CHAPTER 19
Frankie
I poke a long stick at the blaze I’ve got going in the outdoor fire ring. It took only a few minutes to rearrange a circle of rocks around the old pit, and now I’m seated on the stump, enjoying the heat of the hot rancher’s firewood.
Pussy’s asleep inside the cabin, and I’m feeling quite lonely out here in the wilderness, in the almost dark. I sigh. I think I’ve had enough of this cosplaying Tarzan crap. Turns out the great outdoors isn’t all that great. But I do know what would be really, really great right now.
A long, hot shower. A manicure. And a mocha.
And following that, I could really go for a Netflix binge.
I poke at the fire again. I’m out here alone with just the wilderness to keep me company, and I feel more alone than I think I ever have. Turns out the wilderness isn’t much of a conversationalist unless you count the sounds of the forest.
And my cowboy didn’t show up this afternoon like he said he would.
He didn’t come this evening, either.
Hey, I get it. A girl can’t expect to be lavished with nonstop deliveries of survival supplies.
But I really thought he’d follow up on his promise.
I thought he’d be the only man in the world to do exactly what he says he’s going to do, when he says he’s going to do it.
Something about the hot rancher made me believe he was a man of his word.
Was it because he claimed to be a Navy SEAL? Maybe. And maybe that was just another sack of bullshit.
But looking into those otherworldly eyes of his, I swear I saw what looked like decency. And I believed what he told me.
Then MacLaine let me down.
I should know better. At this point, I’m still batting zero when it comes to understanding the opposite sex, no matter what I do for a living. Sure, Fawn—the headliner at Lynx—is a smooth operator when it comes to men.
But Frankie Lyles? Not so much.
I look overhead at the first stars popping through the darkening sky, deciding to ditch the disappointment and focus instead on the decision-making. I need to get myself organized. Plan my next move and the one after that.
I’ve got about twelve thousand dollars in cash.
I have a few friends scattered around the country that Niko doesn’t know about.
Not yet, anyway. But I’ve seen Niko in action.
He gets whatever he wants—money, information, drugs, and women.
He’s got law enforcement on his payroll.
Security camera footage, private medical records, and anything else can be bought and paid for.
For someone as rich and ruthless as Niko, anything can be tracked down. Anyone can be located. And loyalty can be bought with cash or coercion.
I must be out of my damn mind to think I’m the exception, that I’ll be the one thing Niko can’t get his hands on. So what if I escaped Vegas and somehow stayed off his radar for a few days? A few days is not a lifetime. A few days isn’t even a month.
Someday, he’ll catch up with me. But until then, I refuse to give up on myself. I have to at least try.
I toss another log on the fire and watch the embers fly into the evening sky.
I’ve grown less freaked out by the noises of nature and being out here alone in the dark, but I still feel eyes on me here.
I keep my revolver balanced on a nearby log, within reach.
Of all of the predators that MacLaine mentioned, snakes are at the top of my freakout list. I haven’t seen one yet, but if I do, I can’t guarantee I won’t run down the mountain screaming, barrels blazing.
I sniff the T-shirt I’m wearing under the borrowed coat.
I don’t think I stink, but I don’t smell like the perfume counter at Saks, either.
I’ve been washing up with water from the stream and even managed to wash my hair today.
But the water was so cold that I nearly froze my tits off, and if ever make it out of here and back to work at Lynx, I’m going to need those.
I’d definitely like that hot shower sooner rather than later.
I don’t know if I’ll ever make it back to work at Lynx. It may be nothing but wishful thinking at this point. I’ll probably never again get access to even a fraction of my life.
I decide to make a list in my head. I need some kind of forward motion to keep my sanity, even if it’s just jotting down to-do items in my mind.
First, I have to go into town to find a payphone and call Bud, my manager at Lynx.
I’ve never missed a single shift in nearly four years on the payroll, either as a bartender or dancer.
He needs to know I haven’t been kidnapped or stuffed into someone’s trunk—at least not yet, anyway.
Otherwise, my prolonged disappearance might make him call the cops.
I don’t need law enforcement on my tail. They’d just deliver me to Niko , either accidentally or on purpose.
Bud’s a great manager. He’s the best boss I’ve ever had, and I consider him a friend. But if I don’t at least check in, I’ll get my ass fired, no doubt about it.
An owl screeches so loudly that I gasp and slap a hand against my chest. Holy shit, owls can be loud! It sounds like someone’s getting murdered. As the owl continues to scream, I hug myself and shudder, glad I decided to leave Pussy safe inside the cabin.
That could be me, I realize. If Niko finds me, I’ll be the woman screaming.
Take a breath, Frankie.
I force myself to calm down. I hear the owl flap its wings and take off out of a nearby tree.
I tip my head to watch it fly away, but it’s impossible to see anything in the darkness.
But as I raise my gaze, I smile at all the stars.
Up here on the mountaintop, they really put on a show.
I know that in a few hours, the Milky Way will look so big that it’ll seem like I’m swimming in it.
Dad would like it here, I think. He would appreciate the wild beauty of the place.
I wish I could share it with him. I wish he could sit next to me on this huge stump and tell me about the tree that used to stand here.
It must have been a giant, he would say, and then he’d try again to teach me how to make s’mores.
I should have been more appreciative of him when he was alive.
A hot tear rolls down my cheek, and I wipe it away. I’ve wandered so far from the things my father taught me. He wouldn’t be ashamed of my choice of jobs, not at all. He’d be proud of how smart I’ve been with my money, that I’m a homeowner in my twenties. He’d also be proud of how hard I work.
But I have no doubt that Dad would be sorely disappointed in my taste in men, and specifically for bringing Niko into my life. If my dad was alive when I started dating Niko, he would have set me straight and put an end to it before it began.
“Trust your gut, Frank.” He would’ve said, resting his big hands on my shoulders and making me look him in the eye. “You already know what he brings to the table—how much grief and how much goodness. Trust yourself.”
Like all members of The Protectors, Dad had his run-ins with the law. But it was always about shooting straight from the hip for those men, especially Dad.
And defending those they love. That more than anything.
Sure, I would’ve been pissed off at my father for getting involved in my love life, but I would’ve known that I deserved any lecture he unloaded on me. And I would’ve listened to him the way everyone did.
When he died—suddenly and horribly—I was heartbroken. I knew I had to put miles of distance between myself and my memories. Some things can’t be left behind, I learned. Heartbreak is forever. It softens and dulls over time, but it is always there.
I’ll forever be heartbroken that my father is no longer here to encourage me, to assure me that I’m capable of doing whatever I set my mind to.
I kick at the cooling embers and begin to cry. I don’t wipe the tears because no one is here to notice. Only the critters in the woods can see that I’m not as strong as I let on.
For the first time in many years, I give myself permission to fall apart.