Chapter 10
FRANKIE
“It is so, so good to see you, honey,” my mom said as I bent to hug her in her wheelchair.
It felt like I hadn’t seen her in months rather than just days, and we both hugged each other extra tight.
“It’s always good to see you, Mom,” I told her truthfully. “Sorry for the silence. I’ve…been busy.”
“You’re a grown up, Frankie. I just like to be sure that you’re safe.”
It took a lot of willpower not to tell her the full truth. Well, I feel safe with these three guys I’m staying with, against all the odds. But I’m not sure if I should trust that feeling. I still wasn’t used to hiding things from her. I hoped, despite myself, that it would never come naturally.
The worst part was how badly I wanted to tell Mom about the guys. After years of having nothing to report when she asked me about boys, I finally had some experience, unconventional as it was, and it would be so much fun to dish with her about it all.
I always thought it was a waste that a goody two shoes like me was blessed with such a sex-positive, cool mom, and I’d always looked forward to the day when I could finally share the parent-appropriate version of my first time story with her.
Even if I didn’t have to hide the virginity auction of it all, there was no Mom-safe way to tell her about the three men I’d surrendered to.
So instead I smiled, hoping my expression came off as relaxed and normal. “Yeah, Mom. I’m always safe.” Well, I always had been before. “But, um, there is something I wanted to talk to you about.”
I hesitated, catching my reflection in the window behind her. I looked…different.
Softer around the edges, but somehow older, too. It must have been my mind playing tricks, seeming to visualize the new, de-virgined Frankie.
But it felt like something else, too. Like there was a new kind of life in me, one that had nothing to do with the quiet, predictable routines I used to cling to.
“I’m going to be gone more often for a while,” I said finally. “Just…spending time with friends. I’m, uh, trying to be more…well, no, less of a homebody.”
“I’ve always wanted that for you,” Mom said, her tone growing quietly excited even as the guilt showed in her eyes. I took it as a good sign as I went on, even as my own guilt started to gnaw at me.
“I know. So…I might crash at their place sometimes. Not if you need me, of course. But I’m trying to get some new independence, I guess. Since I’m, uh, not staying in school for now, I want some way of keeping myself busy. Feeling like, I don’t know, a real adult.”
Mom blinked at me, surprised for a moment, then smiled. “Oh, honey, that’s wonderful. I’ve been telling you for years you need to get out more. Meet people. Do things that make you happy.”
“Yeah,” I said, with a small laugh. “Something like that.”
It was exactly what Devin had told me to do. Finding the truth in the lies. I did want to come into more of my own life, to step into the fact that I wasn’t a kid anymore. After all the adult fun I’d been having the past couple of days, it felt like the right time.
Mom’s eyes softened, then she surprised me. “You’re glowing. You know that, right?”
I rolled my eyes. “I am not.”
“No, really,” she teased, grinning. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re seeing someone.”
My heart stuttered. “Wh—what makes you say that?”
“Well…” She lifted a hand and tapped her neck meaningfully, smirking. “You might want to check the mirror, sweetheart. Unless you’ve suddenly developed a rash shaped kind of like a mouth.”
Heat flooded my face. I pressed my hand to my neck automatically, mortified. Of course one of them—probably Devin, if I had to guess—had left a mark.
Even after so little time knowing him, I knew that he liked leaving evidence of himself on my body, and that he was just brazen enough to do it then drive me to see my mother without saying anything.
I swallowed hard. Another opportunity for truth in the deceit, if I could pull it off. Edit the real story down to something more easily digestible. “Okay. You caught me.”
“Oh my god.” Mom clapped her hands together. It made her look ten years younger, like her old healthy self before hospitals took over her life a few years back. “My baby is finally dating!”
“Finally? It hasn’t been that long—”
“Who is he? What’s his name?”
I bit my lip, scrambling for an answer that didn’t involve the words, “Well, there are three of them, and they’re maybe criminals, and they’ve been fucking my brains out ever since they bought my virginity at an auction.”
“Uh…a friend of a friend,” I lied. “They’ve—um, he’s been really great, Mom. He’s…strong. Protective. A little intense, maybe.”
Her expression softened even more. “First relationships are always intense. Especially when you find someone who actually makes you feel all the right spicy feelings. Which I can guess you are.” Her eyes flicked down to where the love bite was still visible on my neck.
I nodded, laughing and blushing even as I felt the truth of it deep down. “Yeah. That’s exactly it.”
Mom reached out and patted my hand. “I’m happy for you, sweetheart. Just promise me you’re being careful.”
“Of course,” I said, trying to think of anything besides the feeling of the guys’ naked cocks sliding inside me, the Plan B I’d taken after that first night.
Mom shifted the energy away from anything dirty in a simple sentence, though. “And I hope that he treats you well.”
Of course she wanted my first boyfriend—who she thought of as my first boyfriend, anyway—to be kind to me.
She was my mother, and I was her only child. But there was a deeper reason for Mom’s caveat, too.
My father hadn’t exactly treated her like a queen before they divorced.
Though I never saw or couldn’t remember seeing any kind of violence in our home, I could still feel it in the way she jumped at the tiniest surprise, the way her hands shook when she worried someone would be upset with her, the way she still carried a haunted sadness to this day.
“He does,” I said quietly. Even when they’re punishing me for misbehaving, I love every second of it.
Mom smiled, satisfied, and leaned back in her chair. “Well, since we’re sharing, I guess I should tell you something, too.”
I blinked. “Oh?”
Her smile turned shy. “I’ve actually been…seeing someone, too.”
My jaw dropped. “What? Mom!”
She laughed, a little embarrassed but clearly pleased with herself. “Don’t sound so shocked. I may have some gray in my hair, but I’m not dead.”
“Who is he? Do I know him?”
“His name’s Derek. He’s one of the physical therapists at the clinic. We started talking a few months ago, and he’s been helping me get my strength back. Then he asked me out for coffee, and, well, he’s been really sweet. Nothing serious yet, but it’s made me want to…get back out there, I guess.”
I grinned so hard it made my cheeks ache. “Mom, that’s amazing. I’m so happy for you.”
Her eyes misted a little. “It feels strange, starting over at my age. After everything with your father…”
Her voice trailed off, but I knew what she meant. My father had broken her heart in slow motion over years until finally she’d had the courage to leave.
She’d been sick after that, both in body and spirit.
For so long, I’d thought she’d never really come back to herself. But now, she looked lighter. Hopeful again.
“I think it’s perfect,” I said. “You deserve someone who makes you feel loved. Who shows you how special you are.”
Mom squeezed my hand, eyes shining. “You always say the sweetest things.”
We sat like that for a while—Mother and daughter, two women who’d survived our own storms, enjoying the quiet hum of normalcy between us.
But soon I felt restless, and it seemed a good time to help with any chores before I had to leave again.
I stood and smiled. “I’ll grab the mail for you, okay?”
“Thanks, honey. There should be a package coming for me, too.”
I slipped outside, the air cool and sharp against my skin. The neighborhood was calm—the same sleepy suburb I’d grown up in. Kids’ bikes on lawns.
A dog barking two houses over. I pulled open the old metal mailbox, flipping through a stack of envelopes. Bills, junk mail, a flyer for a new pizza place.
A plain white envelope, no stamp, no return address. My name was scrawled across the front in thick black marker. An ominous, dark call: Frankie.
My stomach tightened.
I glanced up and down the street—no one was there besides Devin, who was still waiting in the car he’d brought me in. He didn’t look at me, and I avoided looking in his direction either, not wanting to alarm him until there was a reason for it.
Still, I couldn’t shake the prickling sensation that I was being watched.
I carried the mail inside, setting everything but the envelope on the kitchen counter. Heart hammering, I tore the message open.
A single sheet of paper slipped out. My hands shook as I unfolded it, looking at the message inside. The handwriting was the same—angry, jagged.
You got involved in something big, little girl. Learn your place or your mother pays the price.
My breath caught.
For a second, I couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. The words blurred and re-formed again and again as I tried to make sense of them.
I swallowed hard, rereading it, hoping I’d misunderstood. But the threat was clear.
Someone knew where my mom lived. Someone knew who she was, who I was.
And surely it was all because I’d gotten involved with the three guys who, despite their apparent shady dealings, made me feel protected.
Panic crawled up my throat. I turned the paper over, but there was nothing else.
No signature. No symbol.
Just that awful warning, as personal and cold as a knife at the back of my neck.
“Frankie?” Mom called from the living room. “Everything okay, sweetheart?”
I shoved the note into my pocket before she could see it. My voice shook when I answered, “Y-yeah, Mom. Just a sec.”
No reason to worry her. If all went well, she’d never have to know she’d been threatened at all. I’d wrap up my visit with her sooner than I wanted, then I’d tell Devin.
He’d know what to do, surely. Even if my involvement with him, Jonathan, and Alex was the only connection I had to the kinds of people who would wish my saint of a mother harm, they were also my only possible defense against it.
I just hoped I could trust them with such a precious life.