Frankie
“Whose heart did you send me yesterday?” I scan his face, seeking the truth, needing him to offer me something here. I’m tied to this now. Whatever horrendous crimes he’s committed have been linked to me, too. We’re still in the hall, him on the wall across from me. The space feels too small with him occupying it right now. He swallows up every bit of oxygen with his presence.
“Myles’,” he states dryly, lacking any sort of emotion or remorse.
My throat tightens. “And Luke? Was that you?” His eyes pierce me, spearing me to the wall. Hot embers burn bright, like I’ve awoken something within him by uttering his name. He nods once, his gaze never wavering, daring me to ask more. “Emmett, too?”
“Yes.”
“Why?” I whisper. My vision clouds with hot tears that flow freely now, each carving a path down my face. Myles was a dick, causing more trouble than he was worth. But I’ve worked with Luke for a while now. His brazen attitude and overt flirting was always a little extreme, but really, that was just Luke. And Emmett? I don’t know what kind of person Emmett was.
He takes a step forward, then another, until he’s inches from me, until his scent consumes me. Linen and leather. He reaches up and cradles my face, tilting my chin so all I see is him. A tender thumb sweeps the tears away. A low whimper finds its way out because it’s been so long, so long since I’ve felt the warmth of another human being.
“Because they touched something that didn’t belong to them.” His tone is resolute, leaving no room for error.
“I don’t belong to anyone.” But I lean into his soft touch even as I say it.
“Frankie baby, you’ve belonged to me since the eighth grade.”
It's strange how interconnected this all is. How everything has come full circle, back to a handmade valentine, only this time, he isn’t cowering in a corner, he has me pushed into one.
“You’re not going to let me go, are you?”
“I can’t.”
A shuddering breath escapes me, and there in the hallway of his home, I accept my fate.
“Will you hurt me?” I rasp.
“Oh, baby, I’d never hurt you in ways you wouldn’t want me to.”
The words equally thrill me and terrify me. God, I’m so fucked up.
“You need rest.” He guides me into the bedroom, pulling back the black covers and motioning for me to crawl into his bed. I want to protest, to fight it, but I’m suddenly exhausted. Following behind him, I climb in, laying my head down on the soft pillows that have his scent all over them. He pulls the blankets up to my chin, tucking me in before picking Cosmos up off the floor and laying him next to me.
“What about the police tomorrow?” I ask. They know too much.
“Let me worry about it,” he says, brushing his thumb against my cheek again.
My heavy eyelids are lowering before he even leaves the room, sleep taking hold and pulling me under.