Two months since I called Carter and had him get me the hell out of Chicago and away from Frankie. Two months without a word, without hearing her voice. Fine. I can work her out of my goddamn system or die trying. I’m winning my fights, I’m on top of my game, and running on pure adrenaline for these past two months. I’m training like a machine, but not taking care of myself, and I know that my brothers are worried. I have a couple fights coming up back to back, and I’m partying all the time, and for the last month, fucking anything in a skirt just as long as she isn’t blonde. I’m a hot, fucking mess over a woman for the first time in my life and I hate it.
We’re in St. Louis, and tonight's fight will be the last for the next few days. It’s the shortest break I've had in a while, but these last couple haven’t been qualifying fights, so I didn’t have months off in between like I normally would. Four fights in two month’s time isn’t what I’m used to, but I welcome the distraction. Mav left yesterday for home to work on promo shit for the next string of fights, so it’s just Sonny and I, thank fuck, because one of them is more than I can handle right now.
I’m sore as hell. My face is already bruised and puffy. I took more than a few good hits tonight, just good enough to let the physical pain overtake the emotional pain that has been a constant. I welcome it. Anything is better than the mindfuck I’m putting myself through.
I’m slipping my key card out of my back pocket when Sonny swings the door to our suite open to let me in. His eyes narrow as he takes in the bottle of vodka in one hand and the redheaded Amazon in the other. She is everything Frankie isn’t— tall with fake tits, skanky clothes, too much perfume, and no class. All these differences make her perfect. By the barely veiled look of disgust on Sonny's face, I don't think he agrees. “You gonna let me in, brother?” I ask him with a little laugh. He steps to the side, barely.
“Don't you think you should relax a little and put a cold pack on that?” Sonny asks me, pointing at my eye that is swollen completely shut now.
“That's the plan. I'm gonna sit in that chair right there, ice down, have a drink while I let her blow me, and then I’m going to go to bed.”
She giggles at that and flops down on the love seat, sitting there eye fucking the shit out of me while I talk to Sonny.
“Jesus fuck, Deacon, really? Why don't you man the fuck up and call her before it's too late? You keep this shit up and she'll be married while you’re balls deep in some skank you couldn’t give two shits about,” Sonny snarls at me.
I glare at him with my one good eye and snatch the collar of his shirt up in my fist, yanking him in close and tight.
“I call her every. Fucking. Day, Jameson. I call her and she ices me every time. I stopped leaving messages after the first month, and now I just hang up when I get her voicemail. So if you want to come at me with some more of your bullshit, save it, because right now, I don't fucking need it.” Releasing him, I take a step back.
“Deac, I'm sorry. She never mentions you calling, she just asks how you are. I just assumed...I just assumed…” he drifts off, straightening his shirt.
I clear my throat. “You've talked to her? She asks about me?” I ask in a voice so low and gravelly, sounding completely defeated, that I don’t even recognize it as my own.
“Yeah, one of us speaks to her almost daily, just like always,” Sonny reassures me.
I’m relieved that my brothers are in touch with her, and at the same time I’m mad as hell that she’ll talk to them, ask about me, but not pick up the phone when I call.
“That's great. Fucking great. I'm glad she's still speaking to you guys. Now, if you don't mind, I've got company, but you’re welcome to stay and watch…I'm sure she won't mind.”
Ambling over to the freezer to take out two ice packs, I slump into the chair I had indicated earlier. I slap one of the packs on my shoulder, lean my head back and place the other over my eye. Twisting open the cap on my vodka, I pour it right from the bottle down my throat, welcoming the burn. It takes me a second to register the quiet, and I remove the ice pack to see Sonny and Reggie, the head of our security team, standing at the door.
“You staying for the show? If not I'll call you when it's okay to come back. Won't be long, so don't go too far,” I call after them as I settle back in the chair with my ice.
Reggie gives me a little salute over his shoulder, “See you later, you dumb fucker.”
Sonny gives me a final glance with those disappointed fucking eyes of his and slams the door hard enough to rattle the bottles in the mini bar.
“Wow, he's a dick, huh?” the chick asks in a high-pitched, whiny voice that grates on my nerves instantly. She moves to the floor in between my legs and is working on my zipper.
“Nope, I'm the dick. He's my older brother. No more talking, yeah?” I pull my cock free and stroke it firmly. “You know what I brought you here for, right?”
Nodding yes, she licks her lips, watching my hand as I make a pass over the head of my cock.
“Then why the fuck isn’t my dick in your mouth yet?”
Her eyes widen at my gruff tone. I look down at her one more time as she lowers her mouth and swipes her tongue down my shaft. Satisfied that she finally gets the message, I lean my head back and put the ice back over my eye again. This chick is a little slow. It might take her a minute to figure out that this is gonna be all about me, and when I’m finished, she can get the fuck out.
Teeth clenched, I thrust my hips forward as she tries to swallow my length, gagging in the process. She works her way back up, tongue and lips gliding from base to crown. After ten minutes of this, I’m about to just bend her over the fucking couch and pound it out. Grabbing a fistful of hair, I push down hard on the back of her head, forcing her to take me deeper, trying to get this over with. I’m not as close to coming as I want to be when I hear “Fancy” blaring from the phone in my pocket. It takes me a second to realize that it's the ringtone that Frankie programmed for when she calls. I haven’t heard that ringtone in two months. I reach into my pants for my phone, pushing her off my cock in the process. Two months, two fucking months, and she calls now?
Glaring up at me through narrowed eyes, chick on her knees whines, “Are you seriously going to answer that?”
“I seriously am. You can go,” I say, waving her away.
“Oh my God, you really are a dick!” she screeches as she totters to the door, slamming it behind her as hard as Sonny had.
I slide my thumb over the picture of the Princess on my phone just as the chorus of the song is finishing.
“Frankie, I haven't heard that ringtone in so long I didn't recognize it at first,” I blurt with a bitter laugh.
She doesn’t say anything.
“Frankie?”
Still nothing, but I can hear breathing on the line. My pulse spikes. Something is wrong. Forgetting every ounce of pain, I stand and tuck myself back into my pants. “Princess?”
Nothing.
“Francesca?” I shout into the line. “Baby, talk to me!” Every part of my body is in motion before I know where I’m going. I have to get to her.
All I can hear on the line is a wheezing gasp that fades in and out. In a full panic, I rush to the door to look for my brother and Reggie.
“Frankie, answer me!” I scream, stepping out into the hall.
I see Reggie and Sonny ahead and they both stop at the sound of my voice.
“Deacon?” Sonny asks, worry in his voice as he starts walking to me.
I can feel my heart pulsing in every vein of my body. Never in my life have I been so terrified. Never. I look at my brother, waiting, straining to hear something that would tell me what the fuck is going on. I don’t have to wait long before I hear a gurgled, “Help,” a gasp for air, “Deac,” another shallow breath, “Hurt,” in a thready whisper, and then, “Andrew.”
The last was barely audible. I go taut with fear and Sonny must see it because he springs into action. He runs into our room and grabs our bags that we thankfully had already packed in order to catch our early flight time. I start barking orders at Reggie.
“Call the cops. Tell them that she’s hurt, to get an ambulance over to Frankie’s house.”
I don’t know what the fuck happened or even if she’s at home. I hope like hell that’s where she is.
“Then call my dad and have him find Guy. He’s out of town still; it’s going to take him awhile.”
I break out into a jog toward the parking garage, fear spurring me forward. Thank God we are only half a mile from the airport. The phone is pressed tightly to my ear, a cold sweat trickling down my spine with every second that passes and she doesn’t speak.
Sonny and Reggie are right behind me, moving at the same pace, and somewhere along the way we picked up Trent, our other security guy. I’m on autopilot as we move through the hotel. Terrified out of my mind, I never stop talking to Frankie. Swallowing against the bile rising in my throat, I try to sound calm.
“I’m coming, baby. The police are on their way.” Pushing my way through people gathered in the lobby, I move as fast as I possibly can.
“You’re going to be okay. I swear, you’re going to be okay,” I tell her as firmly as I can manage.
Jesus fuck, I hoped that isn’t a lie. Please don’t let it be a lie.
“Where's Mav, Sonny? Get him on the phone; I need him there! If she's at home, he can be there quicker than the cops can.”
I’m striding toward the exit, my mind racing, wondering how long it will take us to get to her, and praying that we will make it in time. The fear causes pressure in my chest, suffocating me.
“I'll call him now. Is she ok?” Sonny asks as he jogs to keep up with me.
I shake my head no, fighting the tears and the panic that are threatening to take over.
“She's okay, she's a fighter. Right?” I ask trying to reassure us all. “Stay with me, baby. We’re coming, we're all coming. We'd never let anything happen to the Princess.” The words tumble from my mouth on a barely contained sob.
I’m trying to sound calm for her, but the reality is I’m about to break. I’ve never felt so fucking useless, so absolutely helpless in my life.
I can hear Trent on the phone with the pilot telling him we are wheels up in twenty, to figure it out or he’s fired.
Sonny taps me on the shoulder. “I've got him— he's in his truck and on his way to her already. He was out, so he'll be there in five minutes.”
“You hear that? Mav is on his way. He'll take care of you until the ambulance gets there,” I tell her as relief washes over me.
At least with my brother there, I’ll know what the fuck is going on. Because the only sounds coming from the other end of the phone are shallow, wet gasps that can’t even be called breaths. Each one of them scaring me more than the last, yet making me pray for the next.
By the time we pile into the SUV and head to the airport, I’m ready to claw out of my fucking skin! I just need to get there. The anxiety of not knowing, the rage at the thought of her being hurt by someone and me not being there to protect her is wreaking havoc on my mind. I can’t wrap my head around any of it. Mav keeps Sonny on the phone with him and I make him swear he won't hang up. He is going to have to be my eyes and ears, my connection to her until I get there, and there's no way I can let him disconnect.
“Mav just pulled up, Deac. He said all the lights are off and the door is locked. Are you sure she’s there?”
“No. Tell him to kick the fucking door down if he has to. I don't care. We need to find out if she’s in there,” I tell Sonny before turning my attention back to my girl. My palms sweating, gripping the door handle, I’m ready to bail as soon as the truck comes to a stop.
“Did you hear him, Mav?” Sonny waits and then nods at me, “He's in.”
I can actually hear Mav now over my connection with Frankie, as he’s calling her name throughout the house.
“You hear Mav, baby? He's there now, there’s nothing to worry about, Frankie.”
My heart drops when I hear Mav yelling. “Oh God, Princess! Oh God! Please, please, please. Oh God!”
My eyes fly to Sonny the same time his meet mine. The fear I felt before is nothing compared to what’s coursing through me now. Paralyzing me.
Holding my breath, I hear Sonny, “Mav, you're scaring us. What’s going on? What’s wrong with her?”
Listening to Sonny yell right next to me and Mav crying— fucking crying—over the phone line. It’s so surreal, like I’m watching it play out from above, like I’m in both places at once. I can also hear Reggie on the phone with the dispatcher letting them know that my brother is in the house with her, giving them Mav’s description so that they won’t shoot first, ask questions later.
I hear the utter despair in Mav’s voice when he says, “Sonny, I don't know what to do, there's so much blood, so much fucking blood. I don't know where to touch her, she's covered in glass, I don't want to hurt her any worse. Her eyes are closed, she hasn't opened them since I've been here, but I can see her trying to breathe. Fuck, Sonny, where are they?” he bites out the last in full out panic mode now.
I’m listening to him and still talking to Frankie.
“You’re scaring, Mav. Go ahead and open your eyes, baby. Tell him to shut up.” I’m rambling complete nonsense, but I can’t stop.
“Be okay for us. Your Loves need you. I need you, Princess.” My head lowered, I shove my hand through my tangled hair.
“I love you, Frankie.” My voice breaks, showing the pain I’ve been trying to hide.
The truck comes to a stop at the airfield at the same time as I hear the police come in and then the medics talking to Mav. One of them is talking to Frankie, telling her his name. That's when he says, “There’s a phone lying over here next to her; let the detectives know.”
He then asks Mav, “Are you who she was talking to?”
Mav must've come closer to them because I can hear him more clearly. “Not me -- my brother. She called him for help. He got you guys and me over here. He’s still on the line.”
“I need you to stand back so that I can try to get her stabilized for transport, sir.”
My eyes squeeze shut at the thought of losing this little bit of connection to her. “Princess, you have to go. They're gonna take good care of you though and I'll be at the hospital soon. I love you, baby. We all do, so much.”
I don’t even know if she hears me because the medic is working on her, talking to her. I can hear them in the background, her phone completely forgotten in their haste.
Sonny hands me his phone as we walk up the stairs to the plane, knowing that I need to be able to speak with Mav. As soon as Mav gets on the line, I lose it. The tears come so quick and hot that I have no control over them.
“Deacon, don't do that, bro, you gotta stay strong because she needs us right now. I promise. I. Promise. I won't leave her side.” I just nod my head even though he can’t see me, taking a deep breath to pull myself together and follow the guys onto the plane.
“What the fuck went on there?” I question.
“I’m not sure. The house is trashed,” he relates shakily. “The dining room table is flipped, there’s broken glass everywhere. I found her in the bathroom. She went through the shower door. The cops are taking pictures and dusting for prints now.” The phone is muffled briefly. “They’re taking her to Rush. I’ll have to follow them.”
We settle onto the couch that runs underneath the windows on one side of the plane, the phone in my hand on speaker. Sonny and I are leaning against each other, and I’m pretty sure if either of us were to move, the other would fall over. I stare ahead as I listen to the inarticulate noises coming from Mav over the phone as he watches them work on her. With every minute that ticks by and every sound he makes, my heart shatters a little bit more. How would I survive if she didn’t? The answer is simple: there’s no fucking way. My Princess? No. Fucking. Way.
I look up at Reggie and notice the tears streaming down his face and I can’t deal. Our Princess. Fighting without us, not only for herself, but for us, even if she doesn’t know it. I snap back to the sounds coming from my phone and my world stops cold when I hear the frantic “She’s crashing!”