Chapter 70: Chapter Seventy

“Are you sure you don’t want me to drive?” Gloria asked as she watched Frankie wince with each turn of the wheel.

Frankie cracked a smile and sent her a wink. “I’m sore, not an invalid, Vixen.”

Gloria rolled her eyes and looked out the window at the passing city. She settled back against the warm leather of Frankie’s bulletproof SUV. The ride was smooth; the engine purred, and bystanders gawked at the impressive vehicle weaving its way through traffic. Frankie ate it up too. He pulled into the alley behind Accardi’s club and parked in the spot usually reserved for his motorcycle. She supposed Accardi hadn’t given Frankie’s replacement the spot yet.

As she stepped out of the car, her gut twisted with the realization of everything Frankie would lose… if he stayed with her. Frankie held out his hand, wincing slightly again as he extended the muscles along his torso to reach out to her. She sent him a shaky smile and took his hand, allowing him to lead her into the club. Gloria’s thoughts shifted from what he would lose if he chose her, to how on earth he expected to stand up to her father, Sergei, and the combined forces behind them both when he could barely lift his hand.

“I thought you said we were going to test out your weapon tonight?” she asked, yelling over the crowd as they walked into the main area where a nasty brawl was drawing the crowd’s attention toward the ring.

Accardi’s club wasn’t exactly what she’d pictured when he’d described his desire to put a new weapon to the test. She’d pictured a concrete room with dummies and guns longer than her arm or a gun range out in the middle of the New York countryside where they could shoot at moving targets. She’d even considered a bunker of sorts where he planned to drop a bomb from Accardi’s private jet that would scorch the earth and light up his grinning face behind the thin slat they could look through to watch the destruction.

Frankie leaned down to whisper in her ear, “That’s exactly the plan, Vixen.” He led her toward the bar and helped her up onto a stool. He kissed her exposed shoulder. “Stay here; I need to speak with Accardi.”

“Don’t leave me here too long or you’ll come back to me falling off this stool,” she said, holding a hand up to Ruby to signal she wanted a drink.

“I wouldn’t get too tipsy, Gloria. You’ll need your wits about you,” he said with a dark chuckle.

She sent him a questioning look, but his back was already turned, heading in the direction of Accardi’s upper-level office.

“Oh my God, oh my God, did I just see what I think I did?!” Ruby squealed, reaching across the bar to snag Gloria’s hand. “Did you snag the last available M&M?!”

“Uh…” Gloria tried to retract her hands, but Ruby’s grip was steel.

“I saw it too!” Teresa said.

“Me three!” Betty chimed in.

Suddenly Gloria was surrounded with three pairs of eyes boring into her. “Hey, guys,” Gloria said with a smile.

“Betty, get the girl a drink!” Ruby commanded, her hold unrelenting.

“On it! We all spill better when we’re loaded,” Betty agreed.

“So, Lilah, tell us. What is it like?” Teresa asked.

“It’s Gloria, actually. And tell you what what’s like?”

Ruby rolled her eyes. “Being with Frankie Donati.”

“Please, we all know what that’s like,” Betty said, pouring a glass of vodka, completely unaware of Gloria’s reaction to her comment.

Gloria’s nails dug into Ruby’s palms as her fists constricted. Ruby finally released her hold and hissed in pain while waving her hands in the air.

“Sorry,” Gloria whispered, though the jealousy in her stomach roared for her to do far more.

Betty looked between Gloria’s irate expression and Ruby’s bleeding palms. Her face turned pale. “I mean, we don’t know, personally or anything,” Betty amended quickly. “Just, you know, everyone knows how Frankie is, and girls talk and…”

“What do they say, exactly?” Gloria asked, sitting forward. She snatched the vodka from the bar and slammed it back.

“You know… uh… he’s a lot of fun but kind of into weird things,” Betty began.

“I heard,” Teresa continued. “He can be a bit into weird kinky things like Sophia said he asked her to fuck Lauren with a strap-on while he watched.”

“I heard that too!” Betty agreed. “Also, it’s hard to keep him satisfied, and he loses interest really quickly and…” Betty trailed off as Gloria’s eyes threatened to sear a hole through her head.

“Get back to work, girls,” Nora commanded from behind the group.

The triplets scattered, thankful for the escape from Gloria’s harsh glare. Nora gave Gloria a once-over and sighed as she poured her another drink.

“Frankie has gotten around. If you want to act like that whenever someone mentions his dick, you’re in for a long life of frustration,” Nora said, sliding the glass into Gloria’s waiting hands.

“I understand Frankie is…” Gloria searched for the right word. Her pause made Nora’s stern expression soften slightly with humor. “Experienced,” Gloria finally decided. She sighed. “I just don’t appreciate people shoving it in my face.”

“Well,” Nora said, picking up a glass to dry with her rag. “If it makes you feel better, I’ve never seen him sleep with the same woman twice.”

Gloria chuckled dryly. “No. No, that doesn’t help,” she said, taking a third shot with a grimace.

“How are you holding up?” Nora asked.

Gloria sighed. “Oh, you know, depends on the day.”

“Sergei?”

“In the wind.”

“What’s the next move?”

“Going after my dad,” Gloria answered with a resolute nod.

“And Frankie? How are things going with him?”

Gloria looked up at the woman who had once saved her. Though Nora was feigning interest in a stain on the bar, she couldn’t hide the curiosity, the grief from the last interaction she’d had with her childhood friend.

“They’re really good,” Gloria said, making Nora’s eyes flick up to judge her authenticity. “Frankie is…” Gloria chuckled and shook her head. “He’s insane, but in the best way possible. He’s fun, caring, and he’ll freaking die for me,” Gloria said with certainty.

Nora smiled. “Good, he needs someone to die for.”

“You should talk to him.”

Nora shook her head. “He crossed a line he promised never to cross. He won’t talk to his parents. He won’t talk about Stephen. So I won’t talk to him.”

“He talked about Stephen with me,” Gloria offered.

Nora shrugged. “I’m glad, but things aren’t great with his parents, Gloria.”

“He has a lot going on right now, and based on what I’ve heard…”

“You don’t know the whole story. You couldn’t,” Nora explained.

“Couldn’t what?” Frankie suddenly asked over Gloria’s shoulder. Frankie reached across her, took the fourth shot of vodka that she had yet to consume, and threw it back. “Gah, I don’t know how you drink that shit, Vixen. Hey, Nora.”

“Frank,” Nora greeted with a pinched face.

“Don’t tell me you’re still pissed about the other day,” he said, leaning across the bar on his forearms and flashing her a smile that, if directed at anyone else, might make Gloria smack the back of his head.

“You mean when you held a gun to my head?” she asked.

“You were trying to steal from me,” he reminded her.

Nora guffawed and crossed her arms. “I was trying to free her.”

Frankie’s smile vanished, to be replaced with a dark grimace that promised violence. “She doesn’t need to be freed. Not from me, anyway.”

“I’m sitting right here,” Gloria interjected. She stood up. “And while I appreciate being fought over, I have enough of it going around to not need it done between the likes of the two of you.”

“See?” Frankie said, as if she’d just proven his point.

“Shut the fuck up, Frank,” Nora said, fighting a smile.

“Ah, there it is. You can’t stay mad at me.”

“I very much can. I assure you. I’ve been mad at you for twenty years.”

“Well, you can be mad at me all you want so long as you do me a favor.”

Nora’s chin dropped, and her eyes narrowed. “What do you want?”

“I need to add a name to the board over there,” Frankie said, nodding his head toward the chalkboard featuring the names of those competing tonight while maintaining eye contact with Nora.

“There’s only one slot open, and it’s against Myers.” Nora eyed him up and down. “And you look like shit. There’s no way you’d stand a chance against him.”

“It’s not for me,” he said with a roll of his eyes.

“Fine,” Nora relented, dropping her rag and heading for the board. She stepped up onto the bar and looked over her shoulder, chalk in hand. “Who am I adding?”

Frankie turned so that he was leaning on one elbow. His eyes moved over Gloria’s figure, and he smirked. “Gloria Rubanov.”