Chapter 60: Chapter Sixty

A bucket of ice-cold water woke Frankie up the second time. He coughed, sputtered and hissed as the water touched his open wounds. He shook his head, sending water raining from the ends of his hair. He flung his head back to get his hair out his face and groaned.

“Come on guys, I was having such a nice…”

Frankie stopped as his head dropped back down and he realized he was no longer the only one tied to a chair. He was momentarily speechless as he took in the sight of Gloria with her wrists and ankles bound. A cloth was tied around her mouth, her hair fell partially in her face, and blood was flowing from her temple. Around the darkening bruises of her face though, was a cold stare of defiance. She futilely pulled at her restraints, while her gaze swept over his appearance and softened around the edges with worry.

“Vixen… What the fuck are you doing here?” he asked, his fury dulling the pain. What the fuck had Accardi been thinking?

Her worry evaporated at his tone. Her eyes narrowed.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he growled. “This was not the opportunity for you to prove your capabilities. Who the fuck…”

Something hard whacked him across the face and Gloria screamed in anger, the sound muffled by her gag. Frankie spit out a tooth and wiped the blood from the rest of them with his tongue. He glanced around. No Asher or Sergei. Only two dozen of their goons. Frankie laughed and looked at the man who had just struck him. He was beefy, but with chicken legs that showed he clearly didn’t know the meaning of ‘leg day.’ The goon continually hit the two-by-four against his palm, hoping Frankie would step out of line again and give him reason to use it. He took a deep breath to calm himself and looked back at Gloria.

“I’m sorry, Vixen. I was just surprised to see you is all,” Frankie admitted. Gloria continued to glare for a moment before she let out a breath and shrugged as if she understood. Frankie took a moment to look her over more carefully and as he did the anger resurfaced but it was no longer directed at her. “Wanna tell me who did this to you?”

Her eyes cut to the right and landed on a short, shrimpy little boy who couldn’t be more than eighteen.

He looked back at her. “Really? That guy?”

Gloria glared at Frankie with contempt.

He couldn’t help but let out a chuckle that died in his throat the minute his eyes snapped back to the man who had hurt his girl. He leaned forward as much as possible given his restraints. His smile turned sinister as he promised, “I’m going to play with you.”

The little whelp at least had enough intelligence to take a step back out of fear.

“Enough,” Chicken Legs announced, knocking the butt of the two-by-four against Frankie’s temple.

Frankie’s vision blurred and he tried to blink it away so he could glare up at the man. “Your boss know you’ve been knocking his contract around?”

The man looked at Gloria and laughed through his nose as if he didn’t care.

“Where is your boss, anyway? I’ll tell him myself so I can at least have the pleasure of watching him tear you apart piece by piece… maybe he’ll even take a few of my suggestions for which organ to remove first.”

Gloria tried to speak but it was muffled through her gag. Frankie smiled tenderly at her attempt to explain for herself.

“That’s adorable, Vixen, but I have no idea what you just said,” Frankie told her with a wink, making her sigh in frustration and deflate in her chair.

“He’s meeting with your boss,” Chicken Legs explained.

Frankie smiled at Gloria whose eyes crinkled with her own amusement. “Is that so?”

Gloria shrugged one shoulder.

“How long have you been down here?” Frankie asked.

Gloria blinked once.

“I take it that means an hour?”

She nodded.

“Hmm, how much longer do we have left?” he asked.

She only smiled in return. As if she’d been waiting for him to ask. Gloria lifted her right foot as high as she could, brought it back down and shoved. She careened sideways and fell hard against her right side. She groaned as her head connected with the floor.

“Best cover your ears, boys,” Frankie warned.

Not even five seconds later, the first explosion came from overhead. Concrete rained down around them in chunks large enough to crush cars. A plume of dust filled the entire space, creating a cover as effective as if someone had dropped a hundred smoke bombs. The sound of gunshots rang in his ears as bullets sliced through the cloud now surrounding them. While chaos erupted, Frankie kept his eyes on Gloria. Her hands worked behind her back until she was somehow able to get the rope free. She quickly undid her feet and ran in a crouch toward him. One of Sergei’s men met her halfway, tackling her by the waist to the ground. Repelling lines thwacked against the ground and suddenly dozens of men in black combat gear were descending from the crater they’d created.

A pair of boots landed with a thud beside his chair and Frankie looked up at the daunting man wearing a black gas mask over his face. Though he couldn’t see the man’s face, he’d long since learned to spot the Italian Don’s silhouette from a mile away. Frankie jerked his head in the direction he’d last seen Gloria struggling with her attacker.

“Get the girl,” Frankie ordered.

Matteo’s head turned in the direction Frankie signaled. He nodded once as he unclipped his repelling line, pulled out his handgun and stalked forward, unconcerned with the bullets whizzing past.

“Show off,” Frankie muttered.

A stray bullet hit Frankie in the shoulder, knocking him back. He landed hard on his bound arms and inhaled quickly, trying to keep the various pains from making him pass out. He stared up at the gaping hole in the ceiling that revealed the cloudy sky of Chicago. A second man wearing a gas mask leaned over him and shook his head.

“You need some help, little fella?” Leo asked, his voice muffled by his mask.

“Are you kidding? I was just about to take a little snooze,” Frankie mocked.

Leo shook his head again, grabbed Frankie’s shoulders with both hands and hauled him upward. He procured a pair of pliers from his vest, dropped to one knee and cut the razor wire from Frankie’s ankles. He swiveled the chair around to cut the wire around his wrists. The turn of the chair made him dizzy. He’d lost a lot of blood and the methamphetamine had worn off long ago. Dust clogged his eyes and nostrils, further dulling his grip on reality. When Leo got the wires cut, Frankie fell forward on his face.

“Owwww,” Frankie whined, unable to move.

Leo flipped him to his back and started checking over his various injuries. Frankie looked in the direction he’d sent Accardi and found him engaged in hand-to-hand combat with one of Sergei’s men while Gloria continued to fight an attacker of her own.

Fuck, she looked hot. The dust clung to her entire body. It moved through the air around her as she defended herself with practiced precision. He’d never seen a woman fight so well in a confined space. Her jabs were short but impactful, causing her opponent to stumble back with each successful hit. Her face was steel determination, her eyes flicked from one fist to the other as she dodged. A bullet suddenly tore open her opponent’s cranium and he fell to the floor. Gloria dropped her fists, exacerbated. She glared at Matteo who had finished with his own rival and butted in on her fight. Matteo shrugged.

Gloria’s head whipped to Frankie and he gave her a little wave. She started to sprint toward him though several of Sergei’s men continued to open fire. Matteo followed in her wake, his handgun raised and firing on those who were still trying to kill his men. Gloria slid on her knees to get close to him. Her face was stern as her hands tracked over his body. Her lips moved as she mentally noted what she was seeing. Her left hand froze and hovered over the part of his chest that once displayed her name while her right hand covered her mouth.

Matteo appeared over them, and after one last shot the room went quiet. “Gather any ammunition and guns you can find! We move in five!” Accardi ordered.

“Took you long enough,” Frankie muttered. He coughed and blood coated his tongue.

“It’s been ten hours,” Matteo grumbled as he pulled his gas mask off. “Did you get what you wanted, asshole?”

“Heaps of it,” Frankie confirmed with a pained smile.

“He’s been shot in the chest. He’s bleeding internally,” Gloria informed the Don. “He needs a hospital.”

Leo chuckled. “He isn’t going to a hospital in Chicago.”

“Do you expect us to keep him alive for a three-hour plane ride?!” Gloria snapped.

“No, we expect you to keep him alive for a three-hour plane ride,” Matteo told her.

“It’ll be okay, Vixen. I’ve had worse,” Frankie said, patting her hand.

“Frank,” Gloria said, rolling her eyes. “Half of your chest is gone. You’ve been shot, have broken bones and…”

“He’s had worse,” both Leo and Matteo confirmed at the same time.

“Well, if we’re going to move him, then let’s go,” Gloria said, getting to her feet and gesturing for the larger men to get to it.

“She’s headstrong,” Leo said with barely hidden admiration.

“Of course she is,” Frankie groaned as Leo and Matteo hauled him to his feet. He smiled at her. “She’s mine.”

Frankie felt the blood draining from his head and he slumped forward.

Matteo patted his cheek. “It would help if you could support just a bit of your weight.”

“Fuck… y…” Frankie lost consciousness for a moment. His head fell forward and the motion woke him back up. “Accardi…”

“What?” Accardi growled as they moved forward.

“Fucker… in grey t-shirt… whimpy… kid.”

“What about him?”

“Can I take him home with me?” Frankie asked. “He played with my favorite toy… without permission.”

Matteo glanced between Frankie and the blooming bruises on Gloria’s face. He let out a long, annoyed sigh. “Fine. Don’t say I’ve never done anything for you.”

“Tha…” His head slumped forward and this time it didn’t wake him up.