4
Frankie
Jackson laughs from his chair at the station, face in his phone. It’s been a pretty slow night, which is obviously a good thing. Less people needing medical attention and all.
I grab a grape from my bowl and throw it at him. Somehow, he reads my move and the fuck opens his mouth and catches the damn thing.
“You’re pretty good with that mouth of yours, Papa Bear.”
He cocks a brow at me and grins, not even giving me shit about the nickname. He started out as Grumpy Bear, but since he went and fell in love with Derek, it doesn’t fit anymore. The change in Jackson is like night and day. It’s incredible to see him out there living for himself and enjoying his life in ways he hadn’t allowed himself before. And well, being Derek’s daddy and all, I sort of had to find a way to play off that for a new nickname.
“Yeah, that’s what Derek tells me every night,” he replies, and I roll my eyes at him. Like I didn’t see that one coming.
Sliding my feet onto the coffee table, I lean back on the couch. The TV is playing in front of us, but neither of us is giving it any attention. “What are you all smiley about?” I ask before popping a grape into my mouth, even though I basically know what it is. In some way or another, it has to do with Derek. No one makes him smile the way his boy does.
“Apparently, Derek took Evan to the leather shop today.”
That gets my attention. “Your boyfriend is going to corrupt my friend,” I tease. The thought of Evan in a leather store is…surprising. I imagine him blushing, those big hazel eyes of his taking in all the toys, likely in shock. He’s so damn innocent but also curious too. Both of those qualities are two of my favorite things about him. I can see him being a bit scandalized but intrigued just being in the shop at all, and then you toss Derek into the mix… “Tell him not to give Evan too hard a time.”
Evan loves Derek and feels comfortable around him, but I know it took him a while to get used to Jackson’s Bottom Boy—if only because Evan hadn’t ever really allowed himself to get close to many people and Derek can be a lot to take in.
“Aww. Is someone being protective of his boy?” Jackson says, but I don’t bother with a reply. He knows Evan and I are just friends.
“You hook up with him yet?”
I frown at Jackson’s question.
“Aww, come on. Have a little fun, Frankie,” he teases, and I get what he’s doing. As if he can see the recognition on my face he says, “See? Not so fun, is it?” So maybe I was a bit obnoxious after his divorce from his ex-wife, Steph. I might or might not have been persistent in Jackson getting out there and living it up while grilling him every damn day about it. So sue me.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, man.”
“Uh huh. I bet you don’t. Speaking of…got any ass lately? Want me to take you out?”
“I don’t think I was nearly as annoying as you when I said the same shit.”
“You think wrong.”
“Yeah, but the difference is, I didn’t just get out of a marriage. Evan and I aren’t interested in each other that way, and I’m very active on Grindr, fuck you very much.”
“You have to let me get my hits in when I can, though.”
Jackson’s phone beeps. He looks at it right before a big-ass smile spreads across his face. “Apparently, they saw a puppy hood that caught Derek’s attention.”
There’s another beep, and Jackson reads the message. “Well, shit. He said he was going to get it, but he has a feeling Evan’s going to go back for it first.”
“Shut the fuck up.” I have no problems picturing Derek giving Evan crap about a damn puppy hood. The thought of Evan as a pup, wagging his tail is crazy…isn’t it? No way…he can’t be into that kind of kink without me knowing. I sure as shit can’t imagine him doing it with Peter. I have to admit I don’t know a lot about puppy play and have never participated in it myself but from what I’ve heard, a lot of it’s about care. Peter is too much of a selfish prick to care about anyone other than himself.
The image of Evan on his knees, head in Peter’s lap jumps into my head and my arm twitches. No…there’s no way. I would have known. Evan would have told me that shit. He knows he can trust me.
Before I have any more time to think about it, we get a call—a domestic disturbance, one person injured, and Jackson’s eyes immediately clash with mine.
I shake my head, and Jackson and I are out the door, jogging to the bus.
My pulse slams against my skin. My head sweats under my beanie so the second I get in the bus, I pull it off. I hit the siren and jerk out of the parking lot just as Jackson asks, “You good?”
“Fine,” I reply shortly. He knows how much this shit affects me and why.
The police are already on scene when I pull the ambulance up in front of a two-story, white house with a picket fucking fence. We grab the bags, and bed, my heart beating so hard everything else is muffled. I can’t feel my body, but it somehow feels too tight at the same time.
We get into the house and one of the officers is kneeling in front of a woman who’s sitting at the bottom of the stairs. She has a black eye and is holding her right arm close to her body and that quickly, my blood runs cold and my vision swims.
Jackson squeezes my shoulder, but I shake him off and go to her.
“What happened?” I ask as I take the officer’s spot in front of her.
Her words echo in my head as she explains that her boyfriend hit her and shoved her to the floor before taking off. “We’ll take care of you, okay?” I tell her as she cries and nods. “I promise you, we’ll take good care of you. We’ll treat you just like our own.”
I get her arm wrapped up with some support and then clean up her eye. She thanks me, cries harder, and refuses to lie on the gurney, so Jackson and I help her walk to the ambulance. She hit her head when she fell, so I tell her how important it is she gets checked out when she tries to say she’s okay.
Once we get her into the back of the bus, she shakes her head. “I just…I feel so stupid. How could I not have known what a monster he is?”
My stomach drops out, and it takes everything in me not to cry myself. Gently, I put a hand on her shoulder. “It’s not your fault, do you hear me? None of this is your fault. They’re good at what they do…they’re good at making sure you trust them, at giving you no other choices other than them. This is on him, not you. Just like it wasn’t my mom’s fault either.”
It’s not something I talk about much, but I see the relief in her eyes, see that in that moment, I made her feel less alone and that’s all that matters.
The rest of the night goes by in a blur after that. We get her to the hospital, give our report, head back to the station, and clean the bus. Jackson asks me once if I want to talk about it but when I say no, he lets me be. He’s good about that, about giving space.
There are no more jokes or lightheartedness the rest of the night.
It’s a few minutes after six thirty in the morning when I get home. My body is exhausted, but my mind is too heavy to sleep, so instead, I make coffee, pour myself a mug, and sit at the table.
My eyes jerk up when I hear Evan pad into the kitchen. He gets up at seven thirty today. Christ, I hadn’t even realized I’d been sitting here for an hour.
“Morning,” he says rubbing his eyes. Once he looks at me, concern wrinkles his brow. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
“Got a call last night…woman got roughed up by her boyfriend.” There was never a moment where I didn’t realize I would tell Evan. It doesn’t matter that I didn’t want to talk to Jackson about it or wouldn’t have talked to anyone else. I always talk to Evan. This is how we work. We’re there for each other.
“Shit, Frankie. Why didn’t you call me? Or wake me up?”
I shrug, my finger making circles along the top of the coffee mug.
Evan walks over to me, pulls my beanie off and kisses my forehead. I tug him down to my lap and he comes easily, sitting sideways on me. I wrap my arms around his waist and lean my forehead against his shoulder.
“You should have woken me up. I know how hard this is on you.”
“Just needed a few minutes.”
“I get it, but you know I’m here. This is how we work. We’re here for each other.” It doesn’t surprise me that his words echo my thoughts.
It’s strange, the way we connected from that first night. I’ve always had a lot of friends. I’ve never been the type to really keep to myself or anything like that. Still, I’ve never had what I have with Evan. There isn’t a doubt in my mind that he was always supposed to be my best friend and that he always will be.
So, I let go, let myself purge my sadness about the woman tonight and my mom all those years ago. Evan holds me, kisses my temple, and tells me it’s okay while I sit there and cry on him.
There’s no chance I’d open up like this with anyone else, no way I’d let anyone else see me cry this way. Just Evan.
“Sorry,” I say when I finally get it all out.
“Why? You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m sorry that happened, but I’m glad I get to be here for you.” Because as new as our closeness is for me, it’s even more out of the ordinary for Evan. There are days I can’t help but wonder how I got lucky enough for him to trust me the way he does.
“Thanks, Ev.” I grab his sides, and he wiggles on my lap.
“Don’t start that. You’re the ticklish one. I’ll win this war, Frankie, and you know it.”
Laughing, I hold my hands up in defeat. “You win, you win.” Damn Evan and his wandering fingers that discovered my weakness a few months back.
“That’s what I thought.” He winks, then asks, “You’re okay?”
“Yeah, I’m okay.”
“I’ll make you breakfast before you go to bed and I head to work.”
“Thank you.” We talk about his day while he makes French toast. I ask about the trip to the leather store. “And what about that pup hood? I heard you were interested…”
He blushes. “Oh, God. No. Derek is embellishing.”
“Who, Derek? No way.” I figured as much. Evan would have told me by now if he was into that.
We eat together and by the time we’re finished, I can hardly hold my eyes open. “I should hit the sack.” I stand and stretch, my shirt pulling up to show my abs. Evan cocks a brow at me. “See something you like?” I tease.
“Shut up. You know you have a good body. I’m not feeding your ego.”
We laugh. “I’ll do the dishes when I wake up,” I tell him.
Evan nods, stands too and says, “You’re sure you’re okay? I can call in if you want me to.”
His offer makes me smile. “Thanks, but I’m good. You already helped more than you know.” And he truly has.