Chapter 18
Holden
L eaning back in his office chair, Holden rolled his neck to work out the inevitable crick that came from staring at a computer screen all day.
Getting old sucked.
But for the most part, his teams were solid and the field reports from the morning had all been positive. Smooth sailing on all fronts.
So why the hell was he feeling so damn antsy?
The answer, he was sure, came in the form of a willowy redhead with a personality that matched her hair. It had been hell keeping his hands off her yesterday, and even harder giving her the freedom to spend her day without him. Not that she’d gone far, but just knowing she was in the other room, close but still so damn far out of reach had about killed him. Even harder today, letting her go out on some undefined errands without him, and without even pushing her to tell him what she was up to.
It was the right thing to do, at least that’s what he kept telling himself. But he wasn’t sure how long he could keep her under his roof without breaking his own rules around their relationship. Without pushing her up against a wall, sliding his hand up the the inside of her thigh to her?—
His phone rang, giving him a welcome break from the thoughts torturing him. “Falcon. What’s up?”
“We got some info on the group that’s been hassling your club.” Her tone was excited, if a little smug, and Holden instantly sat up straighter in his seat. “Thought you might like to know.”
“Fucking finally. How’d you manage that?”
“Zach.”
Surprise had Holden’s brows rising to his hairline. “The new guy that looks like he’s still in high school?”
Falcon chuckled. “That’s the one. He’s been flirting with one of the girls—she’s eighteen, we ran everyone we could before sending him in—and last night he managed to get her alone long enough for her to slip up and tell him the name of her church. If you want to call it that.”
“Well, don’t keep me in suspense. Who the fuck are we dealing with?”
“The Prophets of the Sacred Truth.”
Something about the name tickled the back of his mind. “Why does that sound familiar?”
“Because they’re a fucking cult. Feds have been trying to shut them down for years, but they’ve never been able to get any hard evidence about the rumors of child brides and other shit. Up until a few years ago, it was assumed they only operated out west but I guess they’ve been growing.”
“Fucking hell. Are they dangerous?”
“Depends on who you’re talking to.” Despite her calm, fury reverberated in her voice. “If you’re a child in their so-called church, they’re dangerous as fuck. So far, there hasn’t been any evidence of them making trouble for outsiders other than a few protests here and there.”
That was where he knew the name from. A group of them had been making trouble out in Arizona for years now, staging protests outside pretty much any building or event they deemed to be going ‘against God'.
Like Falcon had said, so far they hadn’t made too much trouble. Mostly they just liked to make up ridiculous signs and yell at people from across the street. No physical altercations that he was aware of, but he would sure as hell be digging into them a lot deeper now that he had a name.
“Thanks, Fal. And take Zach out for a drink. If he’s old enough.”
Falcon laughed. “He is, but I’ll be sure to remind him to have his ID on him. Let me know if you need anything else.”
“I’m going to do some digging, but have Zach keep things up with the girl. Maybe we can get her out, get some information from her if we promise to keep her safe. Make sure he feels her out first, so he doesn’t tip his hand too soon to someone who’s all in.”
“He knows how to play it. Kid’s done a hell of a job so far.”
High praise from Ember “Falcon” West, indeed. “Good. Keep me updated.”
Relieved to finally have something to keep his mind off his situation with Frankie, Holden ended the call as he logged into a database only certain security clearances had access to. And got to work.
Frankie
By the time she pulled up in Lottie’s driveway, Frankie was even more of a mess than she’d been leaving the college. The ticket sat heavy in her purse, a constant reminder of exactly how badly she’d fucked up in just one day.
Standing on the front porch, she rang the doorbell until it opened, revealing a familiar face. Abigail, the Duvall’s former housekeeper who Braden had hired on after learning that Lottie’s father had let her go, smiled as she stepped back, holding the door open.
“Miss Frankie. What a lovely surprise. Is Lottie expecting you?”
“Not exactly.” Frankie forced an apologetic smile. “I thought I would surprise her. Is she in?”
“She’s in the living room, Miss Frankie.”
“Thanks, Abby. It’s good to see you again.”
Abigail’s smile widened. “It’s good to be seen.”
Heading for the back of the house, Frankie’s stomach churned as her mind frantically replayed the events of the day. The meeting with the dean, her father’s cruel words, getting pulled over by the cops. Basically, it seemed as though the universe was determined to have as much go wrong in one day as possible.
The universe was a fucking asshole.
“You would not believe the day I’ve had,” Frankie declared with what she felt to be an appropriate amount of dramatics as she strode into the living room.
A familiar brunette head popped up over the back of one of the couches, and Lottie’s blue eyes went wide with surprise. “Frankie! What are you doing here?”
“Shitty day. Needed my bestie.” Flopping down on a couch that seemed to envelope her in soft brown leather, she stretched out with her head on Lottie’s lap.
Immediately, Lottie’s hand moved to Frankie’s hair, her fingernails running gentle, soothing patterns over her skull. “What happened? Did you get in a fight with Holden or something?”
“No, but he’s going to murder me when he finds out I got a speeding ticket while not wearing my seatbelt.”
Lottie let out a low whistle. “Yeah, he probably is. As he should, too. What were you thinking?”
“I was thinking my dad is the world’s biggest asshole and I needed to get away from him.”
“Well, that’s nothing new.”
“No. But him telling me he paid for a baby boy and got me instead, is.”
The fingers in her hair went still, and when she spoke, Lottie’s voice was low and full of venom. “He did not fucking say that to you.”
“He did.” Swallowing the lump in her throat, Frankie spilled the whole story starting with her dad’s phone call the day before, through Holden’s ultimatums, right up to getting pulled over.
Through it all, Lottie mostly just listened, though she did come up with some very creative combinations of profanities Frankie couldn’t help be impressed by.
“Jesus, Frankie. That’s… a lot. How are you holding up? Have you eaten anything today?”
Have you binged your feelings yet? Although it was a more than fair question, Frankie’s hackles still rose a bit. “I had a yogurt for breakfast.”
“That was hours ago. Let’s go see if we can sweet-talk Abigail into making us some of her world-famous peanut butter and banana sandwiches.”
“You know they’re just regular sandwiches, right?” But even though bread and bananas were both on her ‘forbidden’ list, the pull of their shared childhood was enough for her to let Lottie nudge her off the couch. “Abby didn’t actually win any awards for them.”
“Don’t care. They’re comfort food and we could both use some comfort.”
Only then did Frankie notice the pale red rim around Lottie’s eyes. Stopping in the middle of the hallway, she tugged on Lottie’s hand, concern and guilt beating at her breast. “What happened, Lottie-baby?”
Waving a hand as if to swat away Frankie’s concerns, Lottie rolled her eyes. “The same thing that happens at least twice a week. Daddy was being extra bossy this morning and it made me feel extra sassy, and he didn’t appreciate me telling him where he could shove his list of things for me to get done today.”
“Damn, girl. How were you even sitting earlier?”
“The couch is very, very soft,” Lottie said with a laugh.
Only feeling somewhat mollified by the knowledge that Lottie had only been crying because of a spanking, Frankie narrowed her eyes. “Lottie. Be honest with me. Are you still happy with Braden? Because if you feel like he’s being too controlling or whatever, I’ll have you out of here in five seconds flat.”
Love turned the gray of Lottie’s eyes to a deeper blue as she lifted her hands to Frankie’s cheeks. “I love you so much for worrying about me. But Braden is just giving me exactly what I need. I have so much to do with the wedding planning and everything, but I haven't been getting any of it done and it’s stressing me out. So Braden has been making me lists to help me stay organized and to take some of the stress of remembering everything that needs to get done off my shoulders. And, well, a good spanking and a good cry does wonders for my stress levels as well.”
Frankie couldn’t really argue with that, considering how antsy she’d been feeling before the doctor had finally cleared her for spankings. Afterward, she’d felt so light and free of all the weight of her usual worries.
Too bad that weight had come back with a vengeance the next day.
“All right. If you’re still happy, I’m still happy. But I’ve got my eye on him.”
Laughing, Lottie grabbed Frankie's hand and dragged her into the kitchen where Abigail was busy putting dinner together. She looked up from the pot on the stove, her usual smile stretched across her face. “What are you girls up to?”
It was a question she’d been asking them for years, and Frankie shot back the same answer as always. “Making trouble.”
“Nuh-uh!” Just like Abby’s question and Frankie’s answer, Lottie’s denial was part of a time-honored tradition. “We’re being good Abby, I swear.”
“Hmm. Then why are you invading my kitchen, Miss Charlotte?”
“We were hoping you’d make us some of your award-winning peanut butter and banana sandwiches. Please, Abby?”
How anybody could say no when Lottie put on the puppy dog eyes, Frankie didn’t know. She assumed Braden had some sort of superhuman resistance to them, but luckily Abby did not possess those same powers.
“Of course I will. Sit down at the island and I’ll make you a big stack of them. And a glass of milk for each of you.”
Eyeing the hard wooden stools positioned at the island, Lottie blushed. And even though she didn’t comment, Frankie noticed she also didn’t take a seat.
While Abby moved around behind them making lunch, Lottie leaned on the marble top of the island, her expression serious. “So, this deal with Holden. You’re okay with it?”
Frankie jerked a shoulder. “Do I have a choice?”
“You could tell him to piss off and move in here with me and Braden for a while. Since going to your parents’ house is obviously out.”
“I thought about it.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Because he’s right. I need him.” It was the truth, as cold and heartless as it may have been. And if she couldn’t tell Lottie the truth, who could she tell? “As shitty as it sounds, I don't think I can do this again without him, Lottie.”
Lottie slowly nodded her head. “I get it.”
Surprised by Lottie’s answer, Frankie raised her brows. “You do?”
“Yeah. There’s something… steadying about a man like that, isn’t there?”
“There is. And I need steady right now.”
“Are you going to tell him about your dad and the ticket?”
“Ticket, yes. My dad is my own issue to work out.”
Judging by the way Lottie’s lips turned down into a frown, she didn’t approve. “You’re never going to get anywhere if you keep hiding things from him, babe.”
“Maybe I don’t want to get anywhere. Maybe I like where I am.”
Lottie snorted. “Okay. Sure. Whatever you need to tell yourself.”
Two plates appeared in front of them, with two perfectly cut sandwiches on each. For a moment, Frankie simply stared down at the offering. Now that it was in front of her, she wasn’t entirely sure she could make herself put it in her mouth.
But Lottie was watching her, with those big, worried eyes. And if nothing else, she hated to make Lottie worry.
Besides, maybe if she told Holden she ate a sandwich today, he’d go a little easier on her when she fessed up to the speeding ticket.
With that happy if somewhat delusional thought in her mind, she pulled her phone from her pocket and snapped a pic to send him before picking up the sandwich. Then she felt the weight of all that food in her hands and nearly put it down again. But it was mostly fruit and protein, with a little healthy fat on top. The bread was carbs she didn’t need, but if she started picking it apart, Lottie would lose her mind.
So she opened her mouth and bit down into the soft, fluffy bread. And just like that, she was twelve again, hanging out at her best friend’s house without a care in the world. At the Duvall’s, nobody got onto her about track times that weren’t good enough, grades that fell just short of perfection.
It was peaceful. Quiet. Safe.
It was, she realized with a start, exactly how she felt whenever she was with Holden.
And she wasn’t quite sure what the hell to make of that.