42 - Frankie
42
Frankie
—
Three days later, Coast Guardsmen find a submerged boat in the Sitka Sound. The investigation concludes that a damaged hull caused the vessel to take on water, lose buoyancy, and capsize in rough waters.
The boat belonged to Doyle Whitaker.
No body has been recovered.
Doyle is still missing.
But the fingerprints on the dismembered hand confirm what we already suspected.
He will never touch you again.
Doyle’s hand was hacked off with the fillet knife, messily, passionately, without precision or surgical training.
That doesn’t rule out the medical staff at the hospital, but it makes my colleagues a little less suspect.
Of course, the men in my life don’t agree.
Despite their roaring, chest-pounding, overprotective objections, I return to work.
Stepping into the trauma unit in my scrubs feels like emerging from a long, dark tunnel into the blinding light.
The familiar sterile scent of the hospital, the beeping monitors, the hushed conversations of doctors and nurses, all greet me like old friends.
I’ve missed this. The routine, the purpose, the distraction .
The hospital staff welcomes me back warmly, even those I don’t know outside the ER. But there’s an undercurrent of curiosity and pity in their eyes. Everyone knows about my situation.
My captivity was all over the news. And the stalker…well, small towns like Sitka don’t keep secrets.
Doesn’t help that I have security stationed at every entry point and following me everywhere.
Now that we know the stalker dismembers people who touch me, I’m not the only one with personal guards. Leo, Kody, and Monty don’t leave the house without their own armed shadows. Additionally, we all have GPS tracking on our phones and can monitor one another’s whereabouts at all times.
Whispers and sympathetic gazes follow me through the hospital. I ignore it and focus on my tasks, relishing the sense of normalcy.
But normalcy is a fragile thing.
An hour into my shift, I’m standing at the nurses’ station, updating patient records with my back to the door, when a gasp sounds beside me.
“Holy Thor.” Nurse Letty claps a hand to her chest. “Did anyone else just lose their breath?”
I freeze.
Oh, no.
“I’ve died and gone to Valhalla,” another nurse says. “I didn’t know they made men like that anymore.”
No, no, no.
I spin and come face to face with glowing, savage, mismatched eyes.
“What are you doing here?” I glance down the hall.
Every woman in the vicinity stares in our direction.
At him.
If they didn’t have a Viking kink, they have one now. He’s going to cause a damn riot.
Leonid Strakh stands under the fluorescent lights looking for all the world like Ragnar Lothbrok has arrived to conquer Britain.
If Britain was me.
Small, tight braids run from his temples, down behind his ears, and twist into a knot on the back of his head, leaving the rest of his hair tangled around his corded neck. Add the sculpted features, chiseled jawline, and leonine scowl, and the man epitomizes Viking savagery and warrior ethos.
When he notices all the female onlookers, he curls his lip like a carnivore, sending them stumbling back and gasping.
Some of them giggle.
I can’t feel my legs.
A white T-shirt molds to his muscled frame. Those low-waisted jeans should be illegal on his powerful physique. But it’s his eyes that strike terror in the trauma unit. One molten gold, the other icy blue, they burn and freeze simultaneously, exuding a dangerous aura that buzzes the air.
The women in the corridor can’t help but stare. And swoon. If a heart monitor sounded right now, no one would respond. Even the men have fallen under his trance.
“Leo.” Forcing a smile, I stride toward him, grab his wrist, and drag him around the corner. “You can’t be here.”
“Stay there.” He jabs a finger at one of his personal guards and sweeps me into an empty cubicle, closing the curtain.
Pressing against me, he traps me with his body and weakens me with his scent. The dark, masculine aroma of motorcycle exhaust wraps around me, draws me in, makes my pulse quicken, and my breath catch.
And his face. Lord help me, he’s beautiful and fierce. Godlike and predatory. High cheekbones, straight nose, and lips that could tempt the Virgin Queen of England.
My body betrays me, heat pooling low in my belly, a flush creeping up my neck. It takes everything in me to compose myself, to remember where I am and what I’m here to do.
My heart races, but I force a calm I don’t feel, pulling away with practiced professionalism.
“This is ridiculous.” He reaches for me again. “You’re risking your life.”
“So are you. I’m working.” I stop him with a hand on his chest. “I have guards, and you’re supposed to be studying for an exam.”
“I don’t need to study.”
“I don’t need you causing a scene in the ER. Go to the distillery and help Kody.”
His gaze bores into mine, giving me the full force of his arctic animalism. It’s too much, the intensity of those eyes, the way they strip me bare. But I stand my ground, meeting that primal expression head-on.
“It’s my first day.” I square my shoulders, trying to inject authority into my posture. “Don’t fuck this up for me.”
He doesn’t move at first. Then, without warning, he clamps a hand around my nape, fingers tangling in my hair.
“Leo—”
His mouth crashes into mine, and he kisses me with the wild, feral anger that lives inside him. He kisses me like a man starved, as if he waited a lifetime for this moment. His lips demand and bruise, leaving no space for hesitation or second thoughts.
I should push him away, should remind him—and myself—this is neither the time nor the place. But the fire in his kiss consumes me, igniting the desperation between us. I climb his mountainous frame, fingers digging into the muscled slopes of his shoulders, losing myself in his vicious raid.
Time ceases to exist. There’s only the heat of his mouth, the roughness of his touch, the taste of him—his danger and desire. I don’t want this moment to end as he tears us apart and puts us back together again.
Too soon, he pulls back, leaving me breathless and aching. His hand lingers on my neck, fingers caressing my skin.
“Remember that.” He steps back, grinning through his anger.
“Dammit, Leo.” I touch my mouth and straighten my bun. “Does it look like I’ve been making out?”
“Yeah, love. Swollen lips for days.”
With that, he turns and strides out, leaving me dizzy and trembling.
What was I thinking? I shouldn’t have let him kiss me here.
Idiot.
The scent of him lingers, pissing me off as I try to gather the shattered pieces of my composure.
I’m here to do a job, a meaningful one. I can’t afford to let him distract me.
But as I force myself back to my duties, the taste of him still on my lips, I know he didn’t leave. I sense his eyes on me, a burning brand that both comforts and suffocates.
The trauma unit is a whirlwind of activity, but I slip back into my role with ease. My hands remember the motions, my mind the protocols. I’m a nurse, capable and competent, and no amount of time away can change that.
Even with Leo watching and following me like one of the guards.
I see him in the hallway, his eyes locked on me. It’s distracting, infuriating. I can’t do my job with him hovering like this.
Not to mention how often I jump when someone walks up behind me. I’m constantly looking over my shoulder, fighting random shivers, and trying to convince myself I’m not being watched.
But I am being watched. Not just by Leo and security. Someone is out there, a murderer, a stalker, monitoring everything I do.
Hours pass, and I’m engrossed in my tasks, but the atmosphere remains tense.
As I tend to a patient, I struggle with a tricky IV setup. The sterile packaging and intricate components feel foreign in my hands after so long.
Paul, a fellow nurse and an old friend, steps in. “Need help with that?”
“Please. It’s been a while since I’ve used one of these.” I pass him part of the kit.
As he quickly assists me, we exchange a brief smile, a moment of camaraderie.
“Good to see you back, Frankie.” He helps me finish the task, resting a hand on my arm for balance as he leans around me.
“Thanks.” I turn to find Leo storming into the private cubicle.
“What are you talking to her about?” His eyes flare with possessive jealousy, his posture aggressive.
“Just work stuff, man.” Paul steps back. “Chill.”
Leo doesn’t chill. He never chills. His fists clench, and steam rises from his ears. “Keep your hands off her.”
I step between them, flattening a palm on Leo’s chest. “Paul is my coworker, and you’re not supposed to be in here.”
“He’s flirting with you,” Leo snaps, his eyes never leaving the other man.
“Seriously?” Anger spikes, slamming my molars together.
I have a patient lying in the bed two feet away, for fuck’s sake.
“Back off.” Paul stands his ground, refusing to be intimidated. “You’re overreacting.”
The situation escalates in a blink.
Leo shoves Paul, sending him stumbling back. My heart races as the security guards spring into action, separating them and escorting Leo out of the hospital.
“Get your hands off me!” He roars, but the guards outnumber him.
“Leo, stop!” I shout, but it’s too late.
As they drag him away, a cold, nauseous stab of pain pummels through me.
Every instinct urges me to run after him.
I don’t want to send mixed signals, but dammit, I love him. He was thrust into a new world, and he’s still adjusting and adapting. He deserves grace, and I need to find a way to give him that while standing my ground.
Following them outside, I ask the guards to give us space. When they step away, I reach for Leo’s scowling face and guide his forehead down to mine.
“I love you,” I whisper against his warm mouth. “Forever.”
Instead of words, he responds with his body, sliding his arms around me and kissing my lips.
“I’m not going anywhere.” I rake my fingers through his short beard and around to his nape. “I’ll be right here. Safe with my guards.”
“They don’t protect you from all the drooling males in scrubs.”
“Leo.” I lean back to stare at him. “How can we have a healthy relationship if you can’t trust me to work with men?”
He blinks, huffs a frustrated sound, and glances toward the hospital entrance. Turning back, he ensnares me with a look of such ferocious concentration that I take a step backward.
He stays with me.
The intimacy we share is so profound and overwhelming it robs me of breath. I see the same struggle in his gaze, the mutual desire and anguish.
“Frankie.” A breathless whisper. Then he kisses me with a fierce, desperate hunger.
Through it all, our eyes remain open and connected.
“I’ll try,” he breathes against my mouth. “I’ll do better.”
“Me, too.”
Reluctantly, he lets me go.
“Go help Kody at the distillery,” I say.
He inclines his head, and I return to work.
My attempt at normalcy is fucked. The whispers and curious glances from my colleagues sting, but I push them aside and focus on my job.
The rest of the day passes in a blur. I go through the motions, but my mind is elsewhere, replaying the scene over and over. By the time my shift ends, I’m exhausted, physically and emotionally.
The cool night air hits my flushed face as I step outside with the guards. Scanning the lot, I’m not surprised to find Leo waiting for me in the shadows.
“How long has he been here?” I ask Jasper behind me.
“He never left.”
I worked a twelve-hour shift, and he stood in the parking lot.
His devotion makes my chest hurt, deeply and sorrowfully.
He looks as haggard as I feel, leaning against his BMW motorcycle. I wonder how many women passed out when they saw him on that thing.
“Will you be riding to the harbor with Mr. Strakh?” Jasper asks.
“Yeah.”
“We’ll follow you there.”
“Give us a minute.” I stride toward my infuriating snow cabin boy, reminding myself he’s only been in the civilized world for four months.
We’ll have setbacks, and we’ll learn from them. It’s part of the process.
But that fresh crease of pain on his forehead is my doing, and it breaks my heart.
“Leo.” I sigh. “What are you doing?”
“I couldn’t stay away. You’re not safe here.” He reaches for my hand. “I need to protect you.”
“Protect me from working? We talked about this.” My voice rises, drawing the attention of passersby. “I can’t do my job under your constant surveillance.”
“Do you know what it’s like? This relentless, clawing fucking need to shackle you to my side and force you back to safety? It rides me, Frankie. Day and night, it rides me so fucking hard I can’t sleep, can’t think. I can’t breathe without you in my sight.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” I pull in a ragged breath. “But you can get help with this. You can see a therapist.”
He doesn’t argue. He just watches me with those strange, haunted eyes as if he’s losing me on a level that’s making him crazed.
I understand their reluctance to talk to someone. Their childhood abuse is so deep and painful. Reliving it again, exposing it, and dissecting it is terrifying and traumatic. They won’t even open up to me about it.
But until they confront it, their relationship with me will never be healthy.
“Let’s go.” He stuffs a helmet on my head and straddles the bike, firing it up.
I climb onto the seat and lock my arms around his muscled torso. The instant he takes off, I’m transported back to the hills. With the wind in my hair and his body vibrating between my legs, I’m on the snow machine again.
Despite my turmoil, I love it.
I love this man, with his untamed temper, his unconditional loyalty, and even his surly protectiveness.
But we need to find a balance.
Something has to give.
The days that follow are more of the same. I work back-to-back shifts, and Leo shows up at the start of every one, sometimes with Kody in tow.
Each time I step into the hospital, I brace myself for the inevitable confrontation. Leo’s eyes track my every movement. He never seems to sleep, his vigilance unyielding. Kody is quieter but no less present, his brooding figure a shadow in the background.
As I step out for a break during my third shift, I find Monty in the lobby, talking to the head of security.
His icy blue eyes meet mine, and I sag.
What now?
I stride over, my voice tight with exhaustion. “What are you doing here?”
“Just checking on things.” He clasps his hands behind him, his attire all business, from the crisp white shirt and suit jacket to the shiny expensive shoes. “Making sure everything’s secure.”
“Is that really necessary? I have enough security.”
“Clearly, it is.” He glances toward Leo and Kody, who stand a few feet away, glaring back. “I’m trying to keep the peace.”
“This has to stop.” I rub my temples. “I can’t work with all this…drama. They’re going to get me fired.”
“I know.” His expression softens. “I’m trying to help.”
“You want to help? Make them leave. They won’t listen to me.”
“I can instruct security to escort them out and prevent them from entering again.” He quirks a brow. “Is that what you want?”
I shake my head, though I’m not entirely certain. I want them to be able to visit during my breaks or stop by if they need something.
As I turn to head back to the ER, I catch a glimpse of them, their expressions dark and aggressive.
Changing directions, I make a beeline for them and stop just out of arm’s reach.
“A mat placed outside an exterior door for wiping shoes before entering.” I rest my fists on my hips, watching their features twist in confusion. “A person who is physically weak and ineffectual.”
“I don’t understand.” Leo tilts his head.
“What is a doormat?”
“That’s not—”
“Not me? You’re walking all over me and treating me like I have no common sense, self-preservation, or opinions of my own.”
“Keeping you protected,” Kody growls, “does not turn you into a doormat.”
“I love you both. So much. If you love me a fraction as much, please leave until the end of my shift. Or stay outside. I’m trying to do my job, and I’m asking you to respect that.”
Without waiting, I return to the trauma unit.
They don’t leave, and an hour before my shift ends, the tension finally boils over.
I’m in the middle of helping a patient when a brawl breaks out in the corridor. I race out of the room and find Kody pinning Paul against the wall.
“Say it again,” Leo snarls in Paul’s face.
“Get your hands off me.” Paul struggles against Kody’s grip.
“Let him go!” I charge toward them, balling my fists. “Kody!”
“Tell her what you said.” Leo points angrily at me.
The guards rush forward, but I step in their path, holding up a hand.
“Wait. Let me try.” I turn back to Paul. “What did you say?”
“I just said you’re pretty, Frankie.” He bucks against Kody, going nowhere. “It’s true. Everyone knows it.”
I close my eyes and count to three. Then I glare at Kody. “Let him go.”
“He’s been staring at your ass all day.” Kody shoves him before releasing him. “I confronted him about it, and he commented on your looks.”
“Inappropriate, Paul.” I glower at him and shift my glare to Kody and Leo. “Go home.”
They plant their boots and cross their arms.
I see red.
Pivoting on my heel, I stride to the nurses’ station to transfer my patients to the next shift and wrap things up.
Then I leave.
I ride back to the island with the security guards in silence. My mind screams with accusations and ultimatums. But I wait until we’re in the privacy of the estate.
Leo and Kody hover nearby all the way home, stewing in their own thoughts.
They got what they wanted. I left the hospital. I’m returning to my prison.
But I’m not giving up. I refuse to back down. I need to work, to live. And I won’t let them stop me.
When we reach the house, I turn to them, my heart aching.
“This isn’t working,” I say quietly. “This…whatever we’re doing, it’s not healthy.”
“What happened?” Monty steps into the sitting room, taking in the standoff.
I quickly update him on the recent drama and turn back to Leo and Kody. “We need to change.”
“What are you saying?” Leo’s jaw tightens.
“I’m saying you need help. Talk to someone. We can’t keep going like this, smothering each other, fighting over me. It’s tearing us apart.”
“You’re not safe.” Kody’s eyes harden. “Someone is out there, killing people and sending their body parts to you like trophies.”
“Paul is not a murderer.”
“You don’t know that,” Kody says. “I can’t lose you.”
“You’re not losing me.” I reach out to touch his fisted hand. “But we need to find a way to be together that doesn’t destroy us.”
“I don’t know how to do that.” Leo grips his nape.
“You do it by not assaulting every man who looks at or talks to me. You do it by seeking help. There’s so much anger inside both of you, and maybe that kept you alive in the hills. But we’re not in the hills anymore.”
“We shouldn’t have left.” Kody strides from the room. “We don’t belong here.”
“You don’t mean that.”
Leo follows him out without a word, leaving me with Monty.
Turning to him, I don’t expect his help. He’s not here to solve my relationship problems with other men. More likely, he would use the situation to his advantage.
But as he watches me, his gaze deepens. The air thickens.
Our dinner conversation hangs between us. My fantasy. His knowing. That newfound connection pulls us closer and closer together, charged and breathless.
“They need more time,” he says in a caressing tone, meant to soothe.
Because he loves me. He wants me to be happy.
“Time.” I nod.
I’ll hold onto that. I’ll try to hold us all together, but it feels like we’re unraveling too fast.
Every day is a battle, every moment a test of our bond.
I demand change, and they refuse to admit they need help.
They’re a raging storm, wild and uncontrollable, their love for me a fierce, consuming fire.
I can’t help the feeling that something bad is coming, that something terrible is barreling our way. Not just with the stalker.
With us.
My feelings for Monty…I didn’t want to fall in love with him again. I fought it. I clung to my anger for so long.
But I’m no longer angry.
I’m scared.
No matter how this ends, someone gets hurt.
Someone ends up alone.
Part of me wonders if I’m the terrible thing that’s coming.
Am I the one who will tear us apart?
Can I fight my love for Monty? I haven’t admitted it out loud. Not to him. Not to Leo and Kody.
But how does that help?
I don’t know how long I can fight this battle alone.