CHAPTER 39
Special K
My heart is sore. My gut twists for Frankie’s loss.
I set her down on the stump and remove Pussy from the carrier.
“I should take her on a walk,” Frankie says. “She probably needs to do her business.”
“I’ll do it. We’ll be right back. You okay here for a few minutes?”
“Of course.”
“I’ll make us something for dinner when I get back.” I lean down to kiss the top of her head and leave the camp with Pussy, the leash-walking, pig-fighting, dumpster-rescued cat. I wonder how many lives she’s used up and how many she’s got left.
I remember Boots saying that her cat was the only thing she had, that she couldn’t live without her.
Maybe now I understand why she feels that way. It doesn’t make it any less gut-wrenching to hear, though.
Today has been heavy for both Frankie and me.
Intense. It’s like we had to clear the air before anything else changes with us.
We’ve already gone from zero-to-ninety in the blink of an eye.
I think we both knew that whatever’s happening between us couldn’t be allowed to progress unless there was full disclosure.
At least on my part.
I estimate that I’m looking at about thirty percent disclosure on Frankie’s part. She hasn’t even told me her last name But I do worry about much I don’t know, and how the lack of information will impact my ability to help her.
Ugh.
I can’t even imagine the confusion and fear Frankie felt as a kid. I so wish I could have been there for her then.
I come back and hand the jungle cat over to her owner, wash up, and make us some dinner at the fire ring. I make us dinner outside—nothing fancy, just burgers, but they’re delicious, if I don’t say so myself.
“This is so much better than the marshmallow fluffy stuff,” she says, dabbing her chin with a paper napkin.
“Yeah, I saw your stash inside the cabin. You must have the metabolism of a hummingbird.”
She smiles sadly. “I was in sort of a hurry the night I got here. Just grabbing random crap off the Wal-Mart shelves and throwing it in the cart. I actually thought it was peanut butter.”
Her shoulders stiffen. That was another thing she didn’t want to share.
I don’t want to pry, but I do anyway. “Why were you in a hurry? Who were you running from?”
She looks at me with an expression of horror, fear set in stone. Frozen. The visual sends a jolt of recognition through me. Holy shit. I’ve seen that kind of dread on a woman’s face only one other time in my life.
Before I can stop it, the memory of the young rape victim pushes into my mind. My chest tightens and my breath goes shallow. Frankie’s eyes are empty in the way hers once were. Frankie’s terror is absolute, the way hers was. In both women, I could see that they knew the nightmare had just begun.
That little girl’s face turned to stone. The way Frankie’s just did.
She swallows hard and shakes her head. “You want to know why I’m hiding in a mountain shack with my cat. I know that’s what you want. I totally get it.”
“The thought has occurred to me.”
She looks up at me, then looks away. “And that’s what I can’t tell you. I’m not being coy, Special K. I wish I could tell you everything, but I can’t.”
“Is he your husband?”
She looks up at me again, her mouth hanging open. I think she’s about to lose her temper with me, but she pulls back. “No,” she says, her voice flat. “If I were married I wouldn’t be up here fucking your brains out—no matter what kind of asshole my husband was.”
“Then who is he?”
“I got myself in a real mess, Special K. I’m in deep, and I can’t drag you down with me. Or your family. I won’t tell you any more than that. Please just leave it alone.
”Frankie—”
“I’m poisonous. Radioactive! I came here to disappear, not…” She stops herself, shaking her head. “I’m not good for you, all right? And no matter how much I’d like for you to ride your trusty steed up here, slay my dragon, and rescue me, you can’t. Stop pushing me.”
My jaw clenches. I’m trying, but fuck! This chaps my ass. “So, I’m a Navy SEAL hero but I still don’t have what it takes to help you?”
Her pale blue eyes flash. “I’m nobody’s victim. You understand that? Not once have I asked you for anything! I never asked you for your help!”
She’s right. “But you damn sure need it.”
Frankie squeezes her eyes closed and keeps them tightly shut. Then she sighs deeply and looks at me. “I made a spectacularly poor choice—the worst choice ever. I fell for the wrong man, okay? And by the time I understood just how bad my choice really was, I was already in a shitload of trouble.”
My whole body tenses and my hands ball into fists. “What the fuck did he do to you, Frankie? All I need’s a name. I’ll rip him to shreds.”
She jumps to a stand and points at me. “This!” she yells.
“This is why I don’t want to tell you anything!
Because you’re Captain America! You’re compelled to right all the wrongs and seek all the justice, but that ain’t gonna work in this situation because he’s a soulless, purely evil psycho killer.
He will kill you. Then, he’ll kill your family. ”
I remain perfectly still. My blood’s turned to ice water.
“You want to know more about me, right?
“I do.” My thoughts are racing. I want her to tell me more because, with just a few additional clues, I can figure out who he is. Finn and Declan can hack into every database on the globe and find this douchebag. We can be on his front doorstep in hours.
“Fine, cowboy. Here’s some additional fun facts about me you might like.
I took dressage horseback riding lessons, if you can believe that shit!
I was a straight-A student, right up until my dad was killed, and I’ve always dreamed of going back to school.
Get this—I want to go to business school.
I’m so good with money that my dancer friends call me ‘Tits with Assets.’”
My jaw falls open. She still holds the paper plate in one hand, and she’s shaking so hard that what’s left of her hamburger is about to slide into the dirt.
“You know how I told you that a drunk driver killed my dad?”
“Of course.”
“The driver was my grandfather. He was so out-of-his-fucking-mind high and drunk that he killed his own son.”
I freeze.
“And that’s not all. My grandfather was head of a motorcycle club—still is probably, if he’s alive.
My dad was the second in command. Club members mourned my dad’s death, but they also protected my grandfather.
It’s their code of honor or some other bullshit.
And no, my grandfather was never charged, never spent a day in jail.
He just walked away after killing my dad, his own son! ”
“Frankie, I’m so—”
She shakes her head. “My grandfather hired a private eye to find me. I got a letter from him about six years ago, I think. He apologized, said he loved me and told me that he’d gotten sober.
He sent me a check.” She lets go with a nasty laugh.
“But the things I said to that man after the accident—it’s the kind of shit that can never be taken back.
I lit that bridge on fire and watched it burn to ash.
I’ve never seen or spoken to him—or anyone from home—since. ”
Tears well in her eyes. I stand and walk to her, take her plate, and pull her onto my lap as I sit down on the stump.
She curls up against me and rests her head on my shoulder.
This is all I want from her—to lean against me, trust me. I want her to understand that I am a protector. That she can count on me. I’m made for it. I want her to believe that I can handle whatever she’s struggling with and keep her safe.
But I don’t think she’s there yet. She has to tell me who she’s running from and why she believes it’s a life-or-death proposition. But she’s not willing to drop her guard and tell me.
We sit like this for several long moments, just breathing, holding onto one another. And then, Pussy jumps into Frankie’s lap and starts purring. I can’t help but grin, since it’s pussies all the way down.
“Now that’s what I’m talkin’ ‘bout,” I say.
Frankie laughs at my unspoken joke, which leads to my completely irrational sense of accomplishment. I just managed to make her laugh, even in this brutally dark moment.
I hold her tight. “Whatever you need, I’ll do it, Frankie,” I tell her.
“There is one thing I need you to do for me.”
I stare up at the sky in gratitude. Finally. “Of course.”
“Promise me that you’ll do what I ask.”
“I promise. I’d be happy to help you disappear.”
“What?” She sits up and stares at me like I just sprouted an extra head.
“I’ll come up with a plan, Frankie. I’ll get you set up where you’ll be comfortable and completely safe. Whoever he is, he’ll never find you.”
“No.” She slaps both her hands on my shoulders and leans in to go eyeball-to-eyeball with me. “What I need is this: go home to your work and your family and your life. Please, Special K. I’m asking you to give me just a little bit of time and space to think. To be alone. Just one night.”
I don’t reply.
“Please.”