39. Chapter 39
Evan
HOURS EARLIER …
The door to the apartment swung open, its handle bouncing noisily off the stopper on the wall.
Evan looked up from their bowl of cereal to see Frankie standing in the kitchen entrance, dark brown eyes thunderous.
Apprehension filled Evan as she glowered at them.
They froze, spoon overflowing with Cheerios halfway to their mouth.
“What’s wrong?”
“Did you … God, I can’t believe I need to ask this.
” Frankie jabbed ringed fingers through her loose tendrils, and when some of the curls caught, she swore, yanking her hand free.
She was breathing heavily, like climbing the stairs had taken all her energy and then some.
Like she’d faced a steep mountain and not the one flight she was accustomed to.
Evan set the spoon down, slid out of the booth, and took a few steps to Frankie. “Ask anyway. I don’t keep shit from you, not anymore.”
“Have you been stealing from me? The books aren’t adding up and—”
“No.”
“But my safe is cleaned out. I—”
“No.”
Frankie’s eyes narrowed. “Sloane said she caught you stealing from the tip jar. And then her purse—”
“She’s lying.” Un-fucking-believable. Evan’s stomach lurched at that news. Sloane had betrayed them, even after they’d kept her secret. “Whatever she told you, they’re lies.”
“So did you or did you not break into a pharmacy to steal drugs years ago?”
The question felt like a thousand tiny shards of glass piercing Evan’s back at once. It stole the breath from them, bowled them over at the waist, and for a moment, Evan worried they’d be sick.
That bitch.
“Not all lies then, I’m guessing.”
Oh, god. The hurt in Frankie’s voice caused tears to prick Evan’s eyes.
They stared up at her, pleading for her to understand.
“I was gonna tell you, e-eventually. But I swear I didn’t steal from you.
Ever, Frankie, not since Emily’s picture and never before.
Snooped and broke shit, yes. I’ve admitted to that. ”
Frankie studied them for an agonizingly long moment before her shoulders sagged with obvious relief. Her lower lip trembled. “I believe you,” she choked out. Nodding, she pulled Evan into her arms and squeezed them hard. “I believe you.”
“Fuck, thank you. Thank you,” Evan said, their voice muffled from where their face was buried in the crease of Frankie’s cleavage.
Sobs racked their shoulders, gratitude for Frankie making it hard to get the right words out.
Thank you for believing me. Believing in me , was what they’d longed to say. No one ever had before.
“But why would Sloane blame you? It doesn’t make sense.”
Evan grimaced, knowing it was high time for the real truth to come out.
“Because Sloane wants to take the heat off herself.” They first guided Frankie to the breakfast booth to sit down and then explained everything they knew about Sloane’s gambling addiction.
Frankie was shocked at first, and then furious with herself for not catching on before.
An hour later, they were snuggling on the sectional and rehashing ways to trap Sloane.
“I don’t like this plan, little thief. Too many ways it could go wrong.
” Frankie held Evan tighter. “I want to protect you, and regardless that I still know a few guys here from the academy, it feels a lot like I’d be throwing you to the wolves. ”
“How else do you expect to flush her out? Sloane’s guilty conscience will kick in, trust me.
She doesn’t know what she’s doing right now.
” Sloane was grasping at straws, trying not to get caught.
Lying and stealing to feed the beast; Evan knew all about that and how hectic it made your thought process.
“I just … I still can’t believe she’d do this. I trusted her, Evan. More than anyone else in a long time. God, I’m such a fool. I should’ve caught on.”
“It’s because you trusted her that you didn’t.” Evan shrugged, adding sadly, “Love makes us blind sometimes. I spent way too much time trying to win Cecil over, and that prick’s not even my real father. He was just the only one I knew.”
“You deserve a much better life than the one you’ve had.
I hope I can begin to change things for you.
” Frankie leaned in to kiss Evan softly.
They heard a sigh right before she rested her forehead against theirs.
“I do wish that I hadn’t found out from Sloane about your addiction.
I want to know things as you’re ready to tell them. ”
“I know. And I promise that one day, I’ll go into detail about it all. But for now, we need to plan this fake arrest.”
“It’ll need to be convincing.” Frankie’s palm came up to caress Evan’s cheek.
Evan kissed her, grinning against her lips. “So make it convincing, Daddy.”
In the end, Frankie had made it a little too convincing.
Seeing how she’d looked through Evan instead of at them hurt like a bitch.
They’d expected her to act, put on a performance, with words and perhaps some hint dropping that all was well with them.
In the end, Evan was taken away and too stunned to warn Frankie properly about Cecil.
“Let me out. I need to go back,” Evan said, jiggling their arms, “And fuck, why are these still on?”
The taller of the two cops eyed Evan in the rearview. “Frankie asked us to circle the block first to make it look convincing.”
“She also said not to put the cuffs on so tight,” Evan muttered, noting that they were not circling the block.
Unless that was code for taking a scenic route around the downtown area.
They tried not to let their panic swell any more than it already was.
Being back in cuffs in a cop car wasn’t nearly as fun as being restrained by Daddy Frankie and getting spanked.
Yes! Think of literally anything else than what’s probably gonna happen if you don’t warn Frankie in time.
“Frankie needs help. My—” Evan clamped their mouth shut right before accidentally dropping Cecil’s name.
Feeding info to the police was not a smart idea.
There was no way they’d look into Cecil without also discovering how Evan happened to be in Vancouver.
With all the illegal activity they’d gotten up to since arriving in the city, there was a high chance of getting arrested right along with the old man.
But saving Frankie would make anything else worth it. Evan rolled their eyes. Fucking sap, where do you come up with this shit?
“Okay, kid, time to get out.”
The patrol car pulled into a grocery store parking lot, and the shorter man who’d read Evan their rights stepped out.
Evan’s door was opened, and then they were being helped out of the backseat and uncuffed.
Just as promised. Breathing a sigh of relief, Evan acknowledged the service with a thank you.
“You’re welcome. Tell Frankie not to be a stranger,” he said with an easy smile.
“I will.”
Once the patrol car had driven away, Evan glanced around at the unfamiliar surroundings and groaned. What part of town had those two goons dropped them in?
Forty long minutes had passed by the time Evan made it back to O’Rourke’s.
They’d cursed for a good ten of those minutes for not having their wallet in order to flag down a cab.
Talk about an oversight on their part. Now they crept around to the back of the pub like some spy, careful not to let anyone they might know see them.
Prolonging the ruse as long as possible was the only way Evan’s plan would work.
So, for however long it took for Sloane to get in her feelings and pull out the morsel of humanity still left inside her, Evan would be waiting in the apartment.
It bothered them that they were essentially setting Sloane up like she’d done to them, but it couldn’t be helped.
What Sloane had done was infinitely worse.
Hell, if Frankie hadn’t been the type of person she was and asked Evan point-blank if they’d done the shit Sloane accused them of, then Evan really would be sitting behind bars.
But she’d believed them, especially when Evan had reluctantly opened up about what they knew of Sloane.
It felt really, really good to have Frankie’s trust despite, well, all of Evan’s past attempts at trying to sabotage her business.
Evan eyed the fire escape in the rear of Frankie’s building warily, took a deep breath, and jumped onto the ladder.
Shit, don’t fall. That’s all I need. Heights and Evan did not mix.
It didn’t help that the fire escape was made for someone much taller.
And after going down it months ago to sneak into the trunk of Frankie’s car, Evan still had intimate knowledge of just how “slippery when wet” the ladder could be.
Trust that if there had been time to come up with a greater plan, it would have been taken.
The weather had worked in their favor, keeping the steel frame as slick-free as possible, so Evan had no issue ascending the rungs to the small landing above.
When they reached the living room window, Evan checked their surroundings once more before placing their palms against the glass and sliding it open.
They grinned, supremely glad they’d hashed the details out earlier.
“Easy fucking peasy,” they said, carefully climbing through the window one leg at a time.
They landed on Frankie’s soft decorative rug, turning around again to relock the window.
Something hard hit them from behind, slamming Evan’s small frame into the window. Their forehead shattered the glass, and Evan’s vision dimmed.
Then everything went black.
“Who the fuck doesn’t own a dining room chair?
” Evan heard as they slowly came to. They were being dragged across the floor by the scruff of the neck, and didn’t need to see the intruder’s face to know it was Cecil.
Evan groaned, the familiar metallic taste of blood reaching them as they licked their lips.
It was leaking from somewhere, but Evan wasn’t sure where yet.
Their nose, maybe, or their head. Every inch of them hurt in varying degrees.
“Lemme go,” Evan slurred, weakly batting Cecil away. Cecil grabbed their arm and gave it a sharp twist. A bone snapped, and Evan cried out in sheer agony.
“I should’ve known I couldn’t count on a piece of shit like you,” Cecil grunted, hoisting Evan’s limp body up off the ground. Dizziness and pain washed over Evan, and when they blinked away the spots in their vision, blood trickled into their left eye.
“Frankie …” Evan moaned out, vaguely aware she would be due back soon. Fuck, there was no way to warn her …
“Don’t worry, that bitch is gonna get the surprise of a lifetime,” Cecil thundered into Evan’s ear.
One at a time, he grabbed Evan’s arms and shackled them to the bondage frame.
When the injured one was raised above their head, their stomach clenching was the only warning Evan got before they threw up.
“Disgusting,” Cecil spat, and drove his fist into Evan’s gut. As they gasped for air and fought the urge to puke again, remnants of the past crept over Evan’s semi-conscious mind. Striking Evan had always been one of Cecil’s favorite pastimes while Evan was growing up.
“And fucking my son’s killer? How very predictable of you, you disloyal fucking inbreed.”
Strained laughter slipped out past Evan’s bloodied lips, Cecil’s ugly mug finally coming into view. “Have you … looked in the mirror? Caleb took after Mom, thank fuck.”
Another hard punch to the stomach. Evan’s mouth watered as they gagged, and this time, they couldn’t stop their body’s natural urge.
“You make me sick,” Cecil sneered as Evan’s vomit landed close to his boots. “I dunno how you escaped the cops, but this works. I’ll take care of you and that kinky bitch.”
“She’s gonna … kick your ass,” Evan said, grinning through pain and nausea.
“Oh, I’m looking forward to it,” Cecil said, and pulled a folding knife from his back pocket.
Flicking it open, a cruel smile crossed his face as he met Evan’s eyes.
Then he launched forward, stabbing the blade into Evan’s side.
They screamed as more white-hot pain sliced through their flesh.
The living room tilted sideways once more, and as Evan lost consciousness, they heard Cecil’s voice.
“It’s about time she fought a real man again.”