Draco: The Vampire & The Virgin (BLP Motorcycle Clubs #18)

1. Frankie

A failure.

That is the only way to describe the way I felt entering the pawn shop. The knot in my throat made it hard to breathe, forcing me to expel an exhausted exhale through my nostrils. A spicy blend of cigarettes and cinnamon caused me to lift my glasses and dab my watery eyes. I really wished I had followed through with my plans of coming to the neighborhood hangout on a Monday instead of a busy Saturday, but the final notice from the bank vetoed the idea.

From afar, I saw Mr. Lex busy with other customers, so I kept my head low and glanced at the valuables locked in glass cases. Most of the jewels were too flashy for my taste. I only busied myself with window shopping to keep my mind off the loss I’d take if I couldn’t come up with seven thousand dollars in the next thirty days.

Out of nowhere, the tiny hairs on the back of my neck stood at attention. My frame went lance straight, while my eyes landed on a guitar hanging on the wall a few feet ahead.

“What do you want, Showboat?” I asked before turning around.

“Damn, Frankie. How the hell do you always know I’m walking up?”

The seams of my lips turned up.

“Everyone has a scent, and yours is loud. I recognize scents like most people recognize a person’s walk.”

Showboat narrowed his doe-shaped eyes then shook his head. “That’s weird. You need to get out more. If you’re studying smells, I know you ain’t getting no dick. You’re going to be known as an old cat lady if you keep letting that cat go to waste.”

“Thanks for the words of advice, DJ Quik.” I giggled and pushed his long hair over his shoulder.

Showboat hopped in my face anytime I hopped off the porch. He was a corner boy with a mouth full of gold. A few times, my mom fed the hell raiser when he got into trouble and had to lie low. Years later, he still hadn’t learned his lesson.

“For real, Frankie. Whatchu doing up here? If you need something, you can just ask for help. I can pay you to braid my hair like back in the day.”

“No, thank you. I stopped doing your hair because you don’t know how to keep your hands to yourself. I’m not interested in compromising my dignity for a meal or a few dollars.”

“You’ve been saying that for years, but I’m going to keep trying. We’re supposed to be together, girl.” He patted his right peck. “Can’t you feel it?”

“I feel something for you, but it’s not love.”

I fingered the asthma pump in the pocket of my sweatpants and shifted my gaze to the argyle tile beneath my Vans. Just the sound of the word love rolling off my tongue was unnerving. Sometimes, I was proud to be a twenty-four-year-old virgin who hadn’t allowed a man to use and abuse her like the women in my birth family. Other times, I went back and forth on why I hadn’t found someone who made me feel safe enough to fall into something that mirrored a fairytale.

When I detected some customers had cleared out, I took a deep breath and traveled to the other side of the room.

“Good morning, Mr. Lex.”

“Ms. Frankie! It is good to see you. Are you stopping by to pick up a new comic book? One of those white boys from up North dropped off some vintage horror you might like.”

I scanned my surroundings and then removed a small jewelry box from the top of my socks. A quiver hit my hands as I ushered the heirloom over to the business owner. He held it tight but didn’t examine my offering. He was too busy staring at me with a sympathetic expression. All that did was make me feel even more guilty about being here.

“Your eyes are sad, Frankie.”

“I’m taking it one day at a time,” I replied in a chipper tone. “That’s all a person can do when they’ve lost the only person who loved them.”

“Goodness, baby girl. Those are big words for a little lady who has so much life to live.”

My shoulders crowded around my ears. “There’s no other way to put it. Avoiding the words doesn’t dismiss the facts.”

My adoptive mother, Ms. Green, passed three months ago, and after taking care of her bills and dealing with her kids, who didn’t lift a finger to take care of her during her final days, there was only enough money to stay above water for so long.

“I suppose you’re right, Frankie. Where did you say you got this?” he asked, lifting my necklace to eye level.

“According to Ms. Green, the piece belonged to my birth mother. I’m not really sure of its origin, but I believe it’s vintage. The diamonds in the charm must be worth a few grand on their own.”

Mr. Lex ejected a tight-lipped huff before he pinched his nose. “If you were someone else, I would make you an offer instead of issuing advice, but this is different. Your mother meant a lot to this community.”

I groaned. “Can you please just take the time to really look at it?”

Though Mr. Lex wasn’t the root of my problems, his kind words were like nails on a chalkboard. Typically, I was the person who reminded folks of their blessings when they struggled to see the bigger picture, but nowadays, I couldn’t be a vessel of encouragement. I didn’t want to feel good. I wanted the chance to sit in my grief without pretending it didn’t hurt.

After being hunched over, holding a small magnifying glass up to the eclipse shaped charm, Mr. Lex’s frail chest swelled with an inhale.

“Frankie. I’m sorry, but I can’t give you anything for this.” He dropped it into my palm. “It’s not trash. I just can’t take it. Keep it close. I believe it’s worth more than anything on this planet.”

“Come on!” I whined, no longer concerned with who could hear us. “I heard that too many times from Ms. Green. You can’t tell me it’s not real. She had the stones tested years ago.”

Mr. Lex chuckled as he linked his arms over his chest. “All right, Frankie. I will give you five hundred for the necklace if you’re willing to sell it, but I’m not taking the charm. I can’t.”

“You’ve got a deal!”

Once Mr. Lex scanned my driver’s license and handed me a receipt with my cash, I pulled my hood over my loc ponytail and power walked out of the shop.

I made it halfway down the block before my phone vibrated against my thigh. There were only so many people who called me, and right now, I didn’t want to speak to either of them. Still, I put my attitude to the side and picked up the phone.

“Sammi! What’s up, birthday girl?” I addressed my friend in a jovial cadence, trying to mask the heaviness consuming me. “Are you ready for tonight?”

“Hell yeah! A girl only turns twenty-five once.”

“Ha! In your world, it happened the last two years. You know your secrets are safe with me though.”

“Exactly! You’re loyal. That’s only one of the many reasons I love you.” She giggled. “Where are you right now? I have a nail appointment on Spencer Ave in an hour. Let’s meet up. My treat!”

“Hmm, I have a two-piece set I need to finish crocheting before your dinner. Raincheck on the nails?”

The line went silent, and I prayed Sammi would keep her thoughts to herself. Today was about her, and I didn’t want to ruin that with my drama. If I told her my struggles stemmed from trying to save the house, she would go on a rant about my mom’s birth children.

When Ms. Green became my foster mother, Sammi was already living with her. She was a few years older than me, but anytime she wanted to go out, Ms. Green made Sammi take me with her. I couldn’t recall a time when the ginger-haired rebel ever complained about it. Even after another family adopted her, we stayed close.

“Frankie, I want to call you out for dismissing my offer, but I don’t want to fight on my birthday.”

“Aww. You’re so considerate, pumpkin. Without people like you, where would we be in the world?”

“Probably trapped in one of those scary ass comic books you like to read. I’m not judging you. I’m just happy you learned how to read. Bye, party popper!”

Even though Sammi assumed I was being dishonest about having to work this time, I wasn’t. Out of everything I learned from the woman who took me in, working with my hands was something I turned into a profit. I only put my business on the back burner to take care of my favorite person. Ms. Green’s sickness triggered a possessive spirit in me that preferred to care for her rather than myself.

By the time I made it home, it was close to four. I had a few hours to add straps to the halter top and purse I had been working on, so I got comfortable and got to work. Yarn wasn’t the most difficult material to work with, but it could be tricky. If you moved too fast, you could create a mess. If you moved too slowly, you could lose your rhythm. I used every minute I had to perfect the pieces, and by the grace of God, I added the final touches on the set right as my alarm clock sounded off.

With an hour to get ready, I soaked my bones in hot water then saturated my vitiligo-riddled skin in enough oil to make me resemble a glazed honey bun. Thanks to the warm nights we experienced in Blackstone, I picked a knee-length, backless dress made of yarn to wear. An updo complemented the fit, so I gathered my sister locs into a high ponytail that reached the nape of my neck. I hated I didn’t feel comfortable leaving the house without makeup, yet I was grateful I knew what to do with foundation and a good palate.

The restaurant was about ten minutes from my house, which sealed my decision to walk instead of calling an Uber. I knew Sammi would have a fit, but for safety reasons, I sent her my location as I started down the backstreet on my platform heels.

Most people from my hood avoided Kruger Lane at night since it was wedged between a view of the city and the entrance to the woods, but I preferred the serene atmosphere and its piney aroma. Too many times, I traveled through my neighborhood and had to deal with egotistical men who couldn’t take no for an answer. Despite the scary stories people created, I had been taking the alternate route for ten years and never ran into trouble.

With a tight grip on Sammi’s birthday bag, I hummed, trying to block out the wind’s whispers and the rustle of leaves. Every few seconds, my eyes would glide from the glow of the restaurant less than a mile away then down to my shoes. The idea of a skunk or coyote running up on me wasn’t enough to ruin my night, but the thought of a busted ankle was.

Only a few steps away from the main street, I pulled out my phone to call Sammi, but I froze, stunned by the change in texture beneath my heels.

“What is...”

I slowly reached for the black wallet like I hadn’t heard of the horror stories attached to these types of scenarios. From corner to corner, I traced my finger over the leather material, weighing the options of what to do with it. Scenes from my favorite movies invaded my thoughts, urging my feet to move toward my destination. I may have made an amateur move by grabbing the billfold, but I wouldn’t stand in one spot like a sitting duck.

As I expected, Sways Italian Cuisine had just as many people inside as those that littered the sidewalk. I checked in with the host, and then she escorted me to Sammi’s table in a private room in the back of the building. Weary that someone may have followed me, I checked over my shoulder a few times before plastering on a phony smile.

“Frankie! Finally, you made it! I was seconds from sending a search party through the woods!”

The birthday girl leaped from her seat and rushed over to me with open arms. We exchanged a host of compliments before she led me to a chair next to hers.

There were three ladies at the table aside from Sammi. Troi and Shanice, whom I hung out with previously, but there was an unfamiliar face among the group.

“Sorry for my tardiness, ladies.” I grinned. “I ran into a... dilemma during my stroll up here.”

Sammi tapped the top of my hand. “No apologies needed. I’m just happy you’re safe. I know you like to crawl down dark rabbit holes.”

“Oh, I know who you are,” the only person I didn’t know spoke. “Sammi always talks about her sister-friend that’s obsessed with werewolves, vampires, and serial killers.”

“Yep. That’s me.” I cut my eyes at Sammi. “I wouldn’t say I’m obsessed, but I enjoy a good thriller and paranormal tale, especially around Halloween.”

“Girl, that is the devil’s birthday.”

My gaze latched onto the motormouth who hadn’t offered her name.

“Every day is a day the Lord has made. Unless you can show me a birth certificate, let's just leave it at that.”

“I agree,” Sammi commented. “Frankie, what was the predicament you mentioned?”

I treated the wallet like it was an artifact when I retrieved it from my handbag and placed it on a napkin.

“I found this on the way to the restaurant. I don’t know why I didn’t leave it there?—”

“That’s what I would’ve done,” motormouth chimed in. “It was probably a setup. Haven’t you seen those reports on the news?”

“I mean, that was my first thought, but then I remembered shit happens. Someone may have dropped it by mistake.”

Troi bounced her big curls from side to side. “I agree with you and Jasmine. I would take it to the police. Let’s say the owner was being careless. What type of karma would you bring your way if you keep it?”

“Stop being dramatic.” Sammi pursed her lips. “This could be a blessing. I can see the blue faces spilling over the top. Take the money and mail the license and credit cards to the police station.”

I seized the eyesore from the table and tossed it back into my bag.

“Whatever I do will have to wait until tomorrow. Tonight, we celebrate you, sis!”

Dinner with Sammi and her friends lasted until midnight, and a wave of fatigue hit my bones by the time I walked through my front door. The glasses of wine I had during dinner made me stagger down the hallway, but confusion squared my shoulders when I saw all the lights in my house were on. My mannequin and yarn were also sprawled across the floor.

As quietly as I could be, I went into the coat closet and fished in the back for the double-barrel shotgun I kept on standby. When I said I wouldn’t allow anyone to take my mama’s house from me, that wasn’t limited to the bank.

Housed on bent knees, I journeyed down the hallway with the gun aimed directly at my room.

“If there’s someone here, remember that I have the right to shoot! Seriously! If you’re here to rob the place, just leave me a cup of noodles.”

I laughed at myself, yet the echo of my voice provoked a knot to hold my airway hostage. I couldn’t hear anyone else, but I could feel them.

Like a police officer investigating a crime scene, I wandered through my house, studying every square inch for evidence of an intruder. Other than my crotchet hook, and yarn being out of place, I found nothing.

“Frankie, you are tripping. Go wash your ass and chill out,” I spoke to myself like an impatient parent while going to put the gun away.

Even though I was still leery, I removed my makeup and replaced my dress with one of my mama’s moo-moos. Liquor may have been the last thing I needed, but I grabbed my last spiked lemonade from the fridge and then grabbed the TV remote. I rarely watched it, but the news was like a dose of melatonin, so I turned it on after getting comfortable on the couch.

“Thank you, Sandra. As we reported earlier, the Blackstone police are investigating a bank robbery that happened during the wee hours of Friday morning. At this time, investigators are unsure of how the assailants could have entered the vault, but they’re speculating it was an inside job. A few witnesses have come forward reporting they saw the suspects flee into the woods on Kruger Lane. We’ll provide additional updates as we receive them.”

My eyes swept over to my bag. Quickly, I hopped from my seat. Nervousness made my heartbeat glitch as I opened the wallet, probing for a driver’s license or something with a name on it. Other than the wad of cash, the only thing I discovered was a ring slipped into the space for a card.

The piece of jewelry twinkled in my dimly lit living room. This wasn’t my first time touching diamonds, but something about the piece wrapped me in a trance. That something was the fact that the ring’s infinity design matched the charm Mr. Lex refused to buy. The pieces of jewelry looked like a pair torn apart.

“ Love Binds. Even in Death. ” I read the words engraved into the band before I slipped it on my ring finger. “Aww, somebody’s in love.”

Deep down, I knew there was only one way to handle the finder’s keepers chaos. Even though I wanted to believe I manifested the cash and the diamond ring, I knew better. The only way God would ordain the blessings I prayed for was if I continued to do the right thing when my back was against the wall.

I fought my sleep for as long as I could before my limbs got loose.

I didn’t realize I had fallen asleep until the stench of wet grass and the sound of panting invaded my senses. With slits for eyes, I peered at my phone, yet when the light illuminated my face, my gaze stretched wide at the blurred image of a black, sharp-toothed animal and a tall figure in my living room.

“Aah!”

I jumped back, tucking my feet under my butt. I couldn’t see anything without my glasses, and the lack of light only made it worse.

“Help! Somebody, help me!”

Despite my impaired vision, I detected the figure in the corner didn’t move. It seemed unfazed by the animal’s snarl or my panicked state. Other than a pair of glowing, ocean-blue eyes and diamonds in his ears, I couldn’t make out any distinct details about him or her or… it!

The sharp edge of my glasses rubbed against my fingers, launching me from frozen to over the back of the couch. Once I slipped my eyes on, I looked back and forth between my bedroom and the bathroom, calculating which one I could get to without getting caught. My gun was too far away to grab, and I didn’t have faith I could outrun the beast a few feet away.

“I don’t know what you want, but I have nothing for you to take! Get out! Get out now!”

I got in a squatting position, ready to risk it all, yet an unnatural silence coated the atmosphere. The heavy breathing that directed me from my sleep was gone. The looming feeling of someone in my home had vanished. I didn’t know if I had drank too much or read too many books, but either way, I vowed to fall asleep with my shotgun and Bible from now on.