Chapter 11
CORA
The mystery surrounding Louisa’s disappearance deepens.
None of the events of tonight make any sense.
My earlier questions as to why the Grenvilles, who have every single piece of modern technology at their disposal and more than enough money to hire a small army to search for her, don’t simply pool their resources into finding her themselves bubble back up to the surface.
Why do they need Frankie to do the dirty work? None of this is adding up.
I can’t bring myself to leave him.
Once the Grenvilles have unceremoniously dumped Frankie’s unconscious body back into his apartment, I sit with him on the edge of the sofa, counting his breaths.
The brothers had assured me that he would be fine and wake up in a few hours, but it’s hard not to panic.
A horrible black bruise is forming around his left eye, the colour of it so dark compared to his pale skin.
I’m frightened. For him, for me, for Louisa.
What would the future hold for us all now we’re caught in the Grenville’s web?
I smooth a hand over Frankie’s forehead. His eyes snap open at my touch. We stay there for a moment, looking at one another. Then his eyes travel around the space.
I had almost forgotten all about his surprise.
I let my eyes wander with his, looking at my handiwork.
In the short time he’d gone to the boxing club, I'd cleaned (to the best of my ability) and gotten rid of the empty bottles that had been scattered around the room. It still needs a professional touch, but it’s a start.
The warmth of the rising sun peeks through the window of his flat from behind me, basking Frankie in a beautiful orange glow. He looks so tired, so broken.
“Did you do this?” he asks, and my heart breaks at how his voice cracks.
“Yes.” I blush beneath his intense gaze. His hand entwines with mine, the rough calluses against my soft skin make my breath catch.
“Why?” he asks breathlessly.
I frown back at him. I care about Frankie.
I care about him so deeply that I ran away from home and travelled all the way to Birmingham to look after him.
When I saw those pictures in the newspapers, it was like my chest was being clawed apart.
To think of him having to go through all of this death and trauma alone… I couldn’t stand it.
But why is he asking me this? Did he really not know how I felt about him?
Even after everything that happened tonight?
The fight… The kiss… Does he seriously still think that I’m just doing this because I’m some bored airhead that needs something to do?
I meant what I said when I told Zach that I loved him, and I do, but what does that mean for me now?
Where do I go from here?
“Because I care about you. Is that so hard to imagine?” I don’t mean to come across snappy but I’m done dancing around the subject.
“You shouldn’t.” His eyes harden into a deep brown shell once again The Frankie that I know retreats behind the bruises and empty eyes, just like he did when I arrived here. I hold back a sigh.
“No, you’re not doing this. You are not shutting me out just because you think you know what’s best for me. Do you have any idea what I have done to get to this point just so that I could be here with you?”
He flinches at my tone.“I didn’t ask you to come here.”
“Well, I did. And I refuse to let you go back to being whatever the hell you were before I came here.”
“Cora… I’m not good for you. I’m not good for anyone. I lie, and I kill people. If you stay, I’ll only bring you down with me.” His hands slide up and cup my jaw just like earlier. My heart stutters as he pulls my face closer, just a few inches from his.
“It doesn’t have to be this way.” I say, “I can help you get out of all of this, but you have to let me help you.” Frankie closes his eyes and rests his forehead against mine.
“Lou got me out once,” he starts, shadows cast beneath his eyes from his long lashes. “She thought that she could help me too. But there is no getting out of it. Not now that you’re involved and all of my enemies know who you are and what you mean to me.” My breath hitches at his admission.
“Frankie, I don’t care that you’re a drug dealer, and I don’t care that you’re depressed.
For me it was love at first sight, and even though I know that it’s wrong because you’re my friend’s brother, I can’t hide my feelings from you anymore.
I can’t go home and marry the Duke of Devonshire.
I can’t sit and have tea with my friends and pretend that I’m okay because I’m not.
The only time I feel anything other than pain and sorrow is when I’m with you. ”
He stills at the word love, and I wonder if I’ve made a terrible mistake. His eyes open and finally meet mine, I struggle not to drown in them. “No, Cora. You don’t love me.” I hold my breath, “You love the idea of me.”
I fight back the tears threatening to fall. He doesn’t believe me.
“You’re too good for someone like me. But you are right about one thing…
You can’t go home. I can’t protect you there.
” Relief floods me. My eyes sting as the tears finally begin to spill.
“You can stay until you come to your senses, I’ll be the bloke you use to piss off your family.
I’m good at that sort of thing. I’ll be yours for however long you need me to be, and I won’t be pissed off when you leave. ”
How can he think so little of himself? And so little of me. I know what I feel, but perhaps this is the wrong time to express it. He is a broken soul, and I know better than anyone that you need to love yourself first before you can even think about loving someone else.
But what if I fix him and he leaves me high and dry?
“Frankie, I’m not asking for you to be a good person, Whatever it is you think—” He places his finger over my lips to silence me.
“But for now, I’ll pretend that what you said is true. Because to even stand for a moment in your brightness makes all the heartbreak worth it.” Frankie’s eyes flutter closed and his head falls back onto the sofa cushion.
I don’t know what to do or think, so I sit and counted his breaths again. The weight of the world falls from his face as he relaxes into a deep sleep. And I promise myself that I’ll spend every day of the rest of my life showing Frankie that he is worthy of love.
***
There isn’t room on the sofa for an extra person, so I find myself covering Frankie with the duvet from his bedroom and curling inwards on the chair nearest the window.
As the sun rises and floods his flat with light, I think about how fucked this all is and what life might have looked like if we had both been born into a world with no expectations.
I don’t know how long I sat there watching the sun rise above the tall buildings surrounding us, but once it reaches its peak in the sky and my back begins to ache, I guess it’s time to get up and do something… like shower?
My phone buzzes from the inside of my handbag, still perched on top of the kitchen counter.
Back to reality.
With a heavy heart, I walk slowly over to it and pull it out.
As I read the text from Bella, the blood drains from my face. “No, no, no! This can’t be happening!” I frantically start to text her back, but my shaking hands are slowing me down. Just as I’m about to hit send, the phone rings. The name across the screen turns my blood to ice.
Oh fuckidy fuck! This can't be happening! I have been so careful!
Begrudgingly, I answer it, knowing my father will just keep ringing if I decline. “Hi.” I try to keep my cool and think of a good cover story, but my head is empty.
“Corinthia… Do you want to tell me why you’re plastered all over page six this morning?
I told you to say goodbye to your student antics.
Your engagement, your sisters’ matches; it’s all riding on you behaving and not kissing men with tattoos!
” I don’t need to see him face to face to know his skin is purple with rage right now.
I wrinkle my nose and squeeze my eyes shut as if that would make it all go away.
“I— Father, listen to me?—”
“No. Corinthia, get on the next train home. We will discuss this in person. Your mother is hysterical and I must see that she takes her medication.”
The line goes dead. I pull up the link to the article Bella had sent me and read over it again.
CORINTHIA STANLEY, HEIR TO OIL FORTUNE, SPOTTED WITH BENJAMIN GRENVILLE’S brOTHER-IN-LAW DURING A DRUNKEN brAWL
While sporting her usual designer attire, the heiress has finally put rumours to bed on her engagement to the Duke of Devonshire after being spotted in Birmingham with Frankie Garrick JR, Benjamin Grenville’s soon-to-be brother-in-law.
But the controversy doesn’t stop there… Stanley was seen causing mayhem and inciting a brawl between Garrick and a security guard at the questionable establishment.
This comes merely weeks after the devastating news of the Garrick family’s double homicide. Turn to page 6 for the full story…”
“Eurgh, what a fucking mess!” I chuck my phone down on the counter and thread my fingers through my hair.
“Cora?” Frankie’s voice has always done something to me, but hearing him fresh from his sleep, all low and gravelly, sends shivers down my spine.
I glance up towards the sofa to see him sitting up and stretching his arms towards the ceiling.
One of the sleeves to his bloody shirt has been ripped, revealing the tattoos that decorate his arms. He really is a walking work of art.
I’d seen them up close once before; the last time I’d patched him up at the university he’d taken off his shirt completely, but I’d forgotten how truly decadent they are.
“You shouldn’t move too fast, you might have a concussion.” I rush over to him and start trying to force him back down into the cushions.
“If I told you how many times I’d been concussed in my life, you’d have a fucking heart attack.” His brown eyes sparkle a little more than yesterday, and it makes me smile like a stupid love sick fool.
“Well, that’s no excuse. You should be resting. Last night was… a lot for someone to deal with.” I’m dancing around everything, not sure how much he remembers. Plus I’ll do anything to avoid answering questions about the Grenville brothers and their little show last night.
“Honestly I’m fine,” he looks me up and down and frowns. “You didn’t get changed after last night?”
My cheeks burn. I’m still in the silver dress that was splattered with blood. “I… I didn’t want to take my eyes off you, if I’m being honest.”
Then his gaze rakes over my face, so slow and intense it’s like he’s committing my every feature to memory.
God I want to swoon. “You didn’t sleep? Did you bring any other clothes with you?
” He’s asking me questions, but all I hear is “blah blah blah” because his jawline looks exceptional in this light. “Cora?”
I blink several times. “Oh I’m— No, I didn’t sleep, and yes, I did bring clothes but they’re in the apartment I rented out. Like I said, I didn’t want to leave you in case you woke up and needed something.” His face softens.
“You should take care of yourself, darlin’. Look, I’m fine.” He holds his arms open and I try my hardest not to throw myself at him.
“Fine, but at least eat something first, before I go.”
He grins and once again a little sparkle appears behind his eyes. My chest warms.“I’ll cook, because those hands haven't seen a day's graft in their lives!”
My cheeks redden from the accusation, but all thoughts of being annoyed with him disappear as he removes his shirt, revealing more tattoos and scars as he wanders over to the kitchen and searches through his kitchen cupboards. They’re all completely bare.
“I guess neither of us are cooking. I'll go shop and get some bits while you sort yourself out. What do you normally like to eat?”
I bite my lip because what I normally eat, I doubt he would be able to cook. So, stupidly, I say the first thing that comes into my head. “Salad.” I mentally smack my forehead. Salad? Really?
“Salad it is. I’ll go and get changed, then I’ll leave.” He stops halfway to the bedroom and turns back around. “Where are your things?” He frowns and looks around the tidy space.
“I told you: I put my stuff in the apartment I’m renting.”
He looks down at the floor as if he’s trying to remember. Oh no, that’s not a good sign. “Bring your stuff in here.”
My heart thumps loudly beneath my ribs. “Why?” I ask tentatively.
“I told you yesterday, it’s not safe for you around here. I’d send you back but judging by that phone call, you won't be going home anytime soon.” Guilt washes over me, but I don’t argue. I’d rather not be alone with my thoughts anyway.
“Okay.” I manage to say as I think of my sisters and wonder what will happen to their matches now.
“Now, I’m going to get changed, then go get us some food.
When I get back you can start telling me why the fuck the Grenville brothers turned into zombies last night and why you didn’t seem to be surprised.
” His tone is low and deadly, and it makes my feet feel like they're made of cement.
Well, they were the ones that revealed themselves…
Frankie is Louisa’s brother so he deserves to know the truth.
“Fine. I’ll tell you everything.”