7. Chapter 7
Frankie
Why’d I just say that?
For several tense seconds that felt like minutes, they stared silently at one another.
Evan looked as shocked as Frankie felt over the confession.
She couldn’t blame them. Frankie had made a point over the years to not talk about her past, let alone blurt that she’d been a cop to an ex- convict of all people.
Dozens of questions filled Frankie about Evan’s history with the law.
Where had the break-in taken place? Why, and with whom?
And then came more personal questions she was dying to ask.
What was it like for them behind bars? Evan was small and lean and looked like a punching bag more than anything else.
Was prison where they’d broken their nose?
“I’m assuming since it wasn’t a longer sentence, the break-in wasn’t residential?” Frankie heard herself say instead, searching Evan’s eyes for any hint of deceit. “Was anyone hurt?”
Evan shook their head. Their gaze darkened slightly, and the next bite of their burger bordered on anger. “It was a store, and no. Listen, Frankie, hire me or not, b-but I can’t talk about it anymore.”
Frankie studied them, noting how their shoulders had bowed over during their conversation, as if Evan was bracing for the worst. But Frankie wasn’t like that.
She preferred to give the benefit of the doubt, and for some offenders, she believed rehabilitation and change were possible.
She just hoped Evan fell into that category.
“That’s fair.” Frankie got to her feet, brushing her hands over her suit. “Why don’t you finish your meal and then come see me in my office? You can fill out a new employee form and start immediately if that works for you.”
She didn’t wait for a response. It was already later in the afternoon than she would have liked, with so much still to do before she could take off for her class. Frankie accepted a coffee from Andy on the way to her office, giving him her thanks.
“Perfection,” she said after taking the first sip.
She heaved a contented sigh and drifted into the office, thoughts of Evan lingering as she pulled out the proper employee forms. Evan had been on her mind a lot the past few days.
There was something about them, a haunting darkness that reeled Frankie in.
With that realization, she should avoid them like the plague, but it was proving the opposite. She wanted more.
Darkness feeds darkness.
Frankie understood that on a profound level. She kept her demons locked up, subduing them each time she restrained a lover. She’d discovered her power through kink, and with it, Frankie healed a little more each day.
How did Evan cope?
Frankie’s cell phone vibrated at the same moment there was a knock at her door. Evan was standing over the threshold with one hand tucked into their jeans, watching her.
A shiver of awareness went through Frankie. She cleared her throat, waving them inside. “Come in. Have a seat. I’ll be right with you, Evan.” Frankie unlocked her cell phone to see a new message from Natasha.
Natasha: I may have found someone for you. An old friend of mine, Kelsey, lives in your city and is willing to meet you. She’d be familiar with any subs in the area.
Frankie nodded, quickly typing out a reply.
Frankie: I appreciate it, thank you.
“Sorry about that.” She flashed Evan a quick smile as she slipped her phone into her desk drawer.
They were staring at something beyond Frankie, and when she turned to look, she noticed the tablecloth disguising her safe had caught on her spare knee-high boots and ridden up.
“Don’t get excited. I’m still not a drug dealer,” Frankie joked, but it sounded strained even to her own ears.
Reaching to fix the cloth over the safe again, she didn’t miss the way Evan watched her every move.
“It’s got nothin’ to do with me if you were,” Evan deadpanned, as if nothing in life could surprise them anymore.
“I was a cop.” Frankie huffed. There was absolutely no way she’d be into anything illegal.
Evan’s gaze darkened, and the look they sent Frankie seconds before they got hold of themself caused the hairs on Frankie’s arm and the back of her neck to stand up.
“Was a cop,” Evan echoed, slumping into their seat more. They crossed their legs, ankle over the knee, and stared up at Frankie, boredom clear on their face. “And I was a robber. Now I’m gonna work for you. Interesting, isn’t it?”
This is an act. It must be. Two seconds ago, it looked like Evan wanted to kill her for suggesting cops could do nothing but walk the straight and narrow life. Someone hurt you, Evan, and I’m going to find out who.
Evan was still on her mind as Frankie walked into her self-defense class that evening.
During only a few encounters, the jaded butch had somehow crawled their way under her skin and snuck past her defenses.
Frankie wanted to uncover all Evan’s secrets and vow to protect each and every one.
Something integral in Evan’s makeup screamed out to Frankie, sparking her need to protect and possess.
The weariness in Evan’s mismatched eyes as they sat slouched in her office toyed at her memory as she dropped her duffel bag on the locker room bench.
“You look ready to go a few rounds,” Courtney, an acquaintance of Frankie and frequent sparring partner, commented.
She swiped a hand over her damp forehead, pushing loose tendrils of auburn hair away from her flushed cheeks.
It looked as if the younger woman had gone a few rounds of her own already.
A wry chuckle left Frankie. “I’ve got tension, yes.” Nothing a good sparring match or sex won’t alleviate.
“What do you say we give your students something to talk about?”
Frankie smirked as she unbuttoned her winter coat and blazer, hanging them carefully in her locker. “I don’t think either of your lovers will appreciate it if you come home with another broken finger or chipped tooth.”
Courtney balled up her damp towel and threw it at Frankie with a laugh. “Fuck you. It was a sprain, one, and two, the tooth was fixed the next morning. You get one lucky kick, and I never hear the end of it.”
“Luck would be me only winning once in the two years I’ve known you.” Frankie’s lips curled in a satisfied grin. “Sounds like a lot of lucky kicks if you ask me.”
“Whatever. Guess I’ll need to stop going soft on your old ass then,” Courtney said as Frankie picked up her bag to head to the washroom. She never changed with an audience.
“Old? We’ll see who’s old after I’m through with you.
You talk a big game, Ms. Cairns,” Frankie called out, closing the door behind her.
She was smiling as she stripped off her business attire in place of a pair of loose-fitting joggers, sports bra, and ribbed tank top.
She headed barefoot into the studio, tying her hair back as she went.
Several of her students were already there and waiting.
Courtney was off to the side on the floor, stretching out her hamstrings and chatting with Rachel and Maria, a couple of Frankie’s longtime students.
“How is everyone tonight? Toni, it’s great to see you.
We missed you the last few classes,” Frankie greeted the small, withdrawn woman waiting quietly on the floor.
Her head perked up at her name being called, and a tentative, brief smile graced her lips.
Then it was gone. Frankie eyed the bruising on her cheek, Toni’s piece of shit husband already in her mind’s eye. “He do that to you?”
“Oh, no.” Toni averted her gaze and swallowed. “I-I slipped on ice.”
“I see.” Frankie clenched her teeth, turning away before she pushed a conversation she knew Toni wasn’t ready to have.
There was always an excuse. Frankie could teach her students how to defend themselves until there was nothing left to learn, but it didn’t mean a thing if they wouldn’t use their newfound skills in the real world.
It was hard to take back your power, Frankie knew that.
Hell, she understood that better than anyone.
“Courtney has so helpfully volunteered to spar with us,” she explained to the class, and headed to where the thick gym mats were stacked up.
Dragging one back to the front of the dojo, Frankie opened it up and continued.
“I thought it’d be fun this class if we just practiced using the force of our bodies to take our opponent down.
Whoever takes Courtney down first, I’ll gift them a hundred-dollar grocery card.
And the kicker? Courtney won’t fight back. ”
“That is so not what we agreed on,” Courtney muttered, standing a few feet away.
In just a sports bra and tights, her hair in two braids, and tattoo sleeves, no one would have ever guessed she was the Courtney Cairns, heir to the Cairns investment corporation.
Frankie would bet, too, that not many knew she’d disappeared for a year and competed in illegal underground fights.
Frankie shrugged, smirking over her shoulder at Courtney.
The younger woman had her arms crossed, but she didn’t look upset at the idea.
Frankie assumed she wouldn’t; after all, allowing a group of vulnerable women to strike her would quell some of her masochist tendencies constantly brimming to the surface.
“Do you consent? I think a few of the students could really use an escape in this class.” Toni certainly did. Just being able to lash out without fear of repercussion would act as therapy to some. Frankie hoped it worked on Toni.
“Hell yeah. You know I’ll get pampered when I get home.”
Courtney’s two lovers came to mind, and Frankie nodded. One of them, Lexi, was a friend of McCoy’s and a switch in the kink community. She knew as well as Frankie how hard it was at times to scratch desires someone like Courtney often had—like the need for pain.
Frankie stood aside, watching as her students lined up to face off with Courtney.
Doing things this way wouldn’t relieve much of her own stress over Evan, but if it helped Toni realize she had more power than she believed, it would be worth it.
The Evan mystery could wait. With any luck, they wouldn’t leave the city anytime soon.