19. Chapter 19 #3
Frankie smirked, “Yeah, you looked like the fuckin’ Unabomber sittin’ in the back of the bar.”
“Papi told you to come talk to me, didn’t he?”
He hitched his head to the side, “All he told me was his grandson had moved into the neighborhood and didn’t have any friends. I liked Papi—a lot. So, I figured I’d like you, too.”
“Lucky me.”
“Fuck yeah, lucky you,” Frankie bit playfully on his wrist before kissing it. “I’m a goddamned catch.”
Grinning, full of so much fucking giddy emotion, he snapped his hand away and punched his shoulder, making Frankie bark out a laughing growl as he slunk against the pillows, smiling adoringly at him.
“That was the first time you touched me,” Sam continued, reaching for Frankie’s hand now because he could.
He could touch him whenever he wanted, and that was a gift.
“You gave me a hard time about bringing textbooks into a bar, asked about who I was, like I had any fucking clue. Then you demanded I come to the gym with you in the morning. You got up and had the audacity to push my hoodie off and ruffle my hair.”
Frankie chuckled, “I wanted to see what you’d do. And I wanted to see if it was as curly as it looked under the hood.”
He kissed his palm, feeling how warm and strong it was against the softness of his lips. “I think I knew right then that I may have fallen in love with you.”
Frankie stilled.
“But I wasn’t ready for that. I had to learn to trust first. And you touched me all the fucking time. It was like coming up for air after years of drowning in a tiny box. I think that’s why it took me so long to admit my feelings for you to myself. I was just so scared of losing you.”
“What made you finally kiss me?” Frankie asked curiously. “I mean, if I had had a boner for you for years, I would’ve lost my damned mind.”
“Something to thank my crazy mother for then. A high tolerance for denial and suffering.”
He shook his head, “And don’t forget Papi.”
“True. Suffering in silence and grief was certainly modeled for me on what normal was.”
“Normal,” Frankie snorted bitterly. “What the fuck is normal these days? I thought my blinding loyalty to my asshole father was normal—expected even. That he’d take care of me in the end.
Except he didn’t give a rat's ass about me. He never did. He left me with a run-down bar, and debt the size of Mount fuckin’ Everest.”
“Debt?”
Frankie scrubbed a weary hand over his face.
“His love for cards got a little loose towards the end. Made a few bad bets with the wrong fuckin’ person.
Stuck me with the bill when he retired and moved into the home.
Runnin’ away was what that fucker did. Said I could handle it.
” He cursed. “Sure, I can handle Kozlov.”
“Kozlov? From the Zakone gang?” His heart dropped into his stomach. “Frank, please tell me this debt is gone?”
Sam had heard about the Russian gang that was slowly infiltrating Boston and the surrounding cities.
Running gambling halls, brothels, sex workers, drugs, and guns.
Taking over former Italian turf. He had heard stories about a few members of the Zakone gang, and Thaddeus Kozlov was one of them.
They said he could dismember a body in less than an hour, down to the victim's teeth. Which, from Sam’s knowledge of anatomy, was no small feat.
Last he heard, Kozlov was the cleaner, not the fixer.
So, he must have ranked up in the gang to be taking on debts.
“It is. I paid them off two weeks ago. After seeing you, knowing you were comin’ here to celebrate your birthday, I couldn’t have that shit hangin’ over me anymore. I needed a fresh start, and you were my reason.”
Sam kissed his knuckles, relieved. “Were they the ones you sold the cars to?”
He nodded, “Lucky for me, Kozlov likes vintage cars.”
Real lucky.
“But you don’t gotta worry about that. It’s over.”
“You could’ve told me. I would’ve helped.”
Frankie’s smile was soft and tender. “I know, baby. But I didn’t want you to have to do anything for my father.”
He didn’t have to say why he didn’t want him to help his father. Lou Casavani made it clear from day one that he didn’t like his son being friends with someone like him.
Sam shook his head, “Everything I’ve ever done has always been for you, Frank.
You know that. I worked that bar through med school just to be around you—not for your dad.
For someone who likes to take care of everyone, you gotta let those people show up for you, too.
I would’ve paid the debt off in a heartbeat had you told me.
I want to take care of you. Always, if you’d let me. ”
Frankie studied him, swallowing. “Come here, baby.”
He sighed, resting his head on his shoulder, fingers sinking into his warm furry chest. He hadn’t realized how much he would enjoy a man with a little extra fur, with the soothing feeling of Frankie’s fingers tracing slowly up and down his side.
“This is real, right?” he heard himself ask, hoping to hell that this wasn’t a dream.
“What is?”
“You and me.”
“Yeah, baby. And I think the word you're looking for is ‘soulmates’.”