Chapter 52: Chapter Fifty-Two

“Frankie!!”

Frankie lurched upward, fists flying as the sound of his brother’s scream echoed around his mind.

“Woah! Woah! Frankie, it’s okay!” a female voice said somewhere in the distance.

A hand brushed his arm, he didn’t hesitate. He grabbed the offender’s wrist and shoved. She gasped as he fell sideways and they landed hard together on the ground. A cold, wet rag fell from his eyes and landed on Gloria’s heaving chest. He had her wrists pinned on either side of her head while her wild eyes stared up at him in shock. He glanced around, his eyes eating up his surroundings. He was home, in his dark living room lit up only by the lights of the city that refused to sleep. He looked back down.

“When did we get here?” he asked, his voice hoarse from sleep.

“A few hours ago. Leo helped me carry you up and I’ve been stitching you up on the couch. You’ve been having nightmares.” She gulped. “You’ve been calling out to Stephen.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to remember what had happened before he’d blacked out. The last thing he recalled was a bloodied fist coming at his face. The fight against Accardi. Right. Frankie sighed and rolled to his right, taking his weight off the girl that was far too small to be subjected to it for much longer. She pushed up on her elbow and looked down at him. Her hand came to rest on his chest and he covered it with one of his own. He sighed.

“Have you eaten?”

“What?” she asked.

Frankie turned his head to look her over. “Have you eaten or just worried over me?”

She smiled. “It wasn’t worry so much as…”

Frankie raised a brow. “Annoyance? Irritation?” He raised both eyebrows. “Lust?”

She smiled wider and shook her head. “Yep, you definitely have a concussion.”

Gloria started to stand but Frankie grabbed her wrist and pulled her back down. She yelped as she landed hard on his chest. Frankie winced and groaned. Gloria immediately sat up and started palpitating his chest for what had caused him pain.

“Why don’t you put those hands somewhere I’m not injured, hm?” he asked, gliding his own hands up her thighs.

Gloria looked up and laughed, making his heart squeeze. “Trust me, I have scoured every inch of your body while…”

“Hmmm, did you now?” Frankie purred, gripping her thighs tighter.

“While,” Gloria continued. “You were knocked out cold and I can assure you there is not a bone in your body that works properly.”

“Oh, really?”

Frankie rolled his hips up, brushing his erection against her ass. Gloria’s eyes widened and she shoved at his head, forcing it back to the floor.

She stood up and he let her. “You’re incorrigible.”

“That’s true, Vixen, I don’t need any encouragement when it comes to you.”

Frankie pulled himself up using the side of the couch. He groaned as he stretched his back and it popped. He raised his arms, moved from side to side and bent to touch his toes.

“Fuck, that hurts,” he hissed as he limped into the kitchen and fell down onto a chair beside the table.

He watched Gloria rummage through the fridge, looking for something to eat. She sighed.

“Did you know the only food you have in this house is some Fruit Gushers and a raw whole chicken?” Gloria asked, peeking from behind the fridge door.

“Aw, come on, it isn’t so bad,” he said, hauling himself up while stifling another groan. “I’ll cut up the chicken and have it cooked up in no time. Scoot,” he said, shooing her away so that he could pull the chicken out and start carving it on the kitchen island.

Frankie pulled a kitchen knife from the drawer and tested the sharpness before administering the first slice: clean, precise and directly through the leg joint.

“Why’d you do it?” Gloria asked.

“Well, you see, Gloria, if you cut the chicken at the joints like so…”

“Why’d you throw the fight?” she elaborated.

Frankie glanced up to see her on the other side of the island with her arms crossed and her expression stern. He sighed and went back to dissecting the chicken.

“He’s the boss and I’m his second. It wouldn’t have looked good, Vixen.”

“You could have beat him. You were one second away from…”

“And what would that have proved?” he asked, looking up. “That I’m a better fighter? That I should be the boss?” He scoffed, going back to his work. “No, thank you. I proved my point well enough. He took a beating. He knows I would have whooped his sorry ass. I like my job. I’m good at being second. The man makes the hard calls. All I have to do is see them through while he handles the fallout. It would have done no good to throttle him in front of his own men.”

Gloria was quiet for a moment as he took apart the thigh and the other leg quarter with ease. “Did you read my contract all the way through?” she asked quietly.

“Yes.”

“And you heard what I said to Sergei about not handing over my father’s business?”

Frankie stopped, put the breast aside he’d just cut out, braced his hands against the counter and met her curious gaze. “Is this twenty questions?”

She smiled. “It could be.”

“That would mean it’s my turn to ask a question.”

“After you’ve answered mine first,” she prompted with a challenging raise of an eyebrow.

“Yes, I read the contract all the way through and yes I know what it means that you don’t want to hand your father’s business to anyone.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

“I thought it was my turn to ask a question?”

“Frankie.”

He smirked and shrugged one shoulder. “Like I said, Vixen. I’m good at being second. Now,” he said, looking down as her face transformed into shock at his nonchalant proclamation. “Speaking of your contract. Is it true about your teachings?”

Gloria’s rare blush coated her cheeks. “Yep, it’s true. I learned all about domestic living. I can iron. I can sew. I can cook a chicken,” she said waving at the nearly dissected bird in front of him.

“Uh, uh, uh,” Frankie tsked as he washed his hands and stalked around the island. “I’m not referring to that section.”

Gloria turned so that she was facing him head on. “You clearly didn’t read it well enough. I was supposed to receive my lessons on…”

“Carnal desire,” Frankie said, mimicking the voice of a man in an ad for cologne.

She rolled her eyes but the heat in her face climbed higher. “Until a week before my wedding. They thought that would keep me from getting too many ideas.”

“And yet,” he whispered. “You seemed to learn so well on your own.”

It wasn’t necessarily a question but the inference was there. She smiled then. “They didn’t put an age restriction on my internet and I have wandering hands.”

“Mmm, yes you do,” he murmured, pulling her flush against him.

“Then there was the art of observation.”

Frankie’s eyes flicked up to meet hers. “Is that what you were doing while you were watching me that night? Getting first hand knowledge?”

“More like seething with jealousy,” she corrected.

Frankie’s eyebrows rose to his hairline. “Is that so? There was no need. I was about to give up on that whore getting me anywhere when I opened my eyes and saw you.”

“I’m utterly flattered,” she said sarcastically, though the color on her face came back and she no longer met his eyes. “Speaking of jealousy,” she said, her voice small.

“Another question?” he teased.

Her honey eyes looked up and snared his gaze. “Asher.”