Chapter One Hundred and Twenty-Four

Chapter One Hundred and Twenty-Four
“Gloria! Gloria, hey, hey, Vixen, wake up for me,” Frankie called in the distance. She groaned as she came awake. “Ah, there she is,” he cooed, brushing some damp hair away from her face. “Good at tearing apart regimes, but bad at playing dead. We’ll work on that, just need to find the proper motivation. Maybe liverwurst treats.”

“Frankie?”

“Yes?”

“Shut up,” she groaned again.

“Not til this adrenaline wears off, I’m afraid,” he told her as he lifted her into the air. “I would suggest something else that would put me right to sleep, but I’m not sure your body has the stamina to last.”

“We’re not having sex for another seven years if I can help it,” Gloria grumbled as he dropped to his knees again.

He gasped. “I was talking about running a marathon, you naughty, naughty girl you. Get your mind out of the gutter before you get E. coli.”

“I hate you,” she whispered, keeping her eyes closed as she was lifted weightless into the air.

“I love you too, Vixen,” Frankie responded far above her.

Gloria, too curious to help it any longer, opened her eyes. She was being carried down a ladder by Accardi’s bodyguard, Leo.

“Can you make him shut up?” she asked.

Leo chuckled. “Trust me, if I knew the trick to that, I would have divulged it to you weeks ago.” They arrived down on the ground, and she glanced up to see Frankie descending as quickly as his legs could take him. “He’s just worried,” Leo whispered quietly. “Never seen a man’s face go that white before… When you dropped.”

Frankie jumped the last few feet. “Ta-da!” he said, holding his hands up above his head. “Gimme, gimme,” he said, flicking his fingers at Leo to hand her over.

“Settle first, I don’t want you to break her,” Leo said, handing her over gently.

“Look at her, Leo,” Frankie said, gazing down at her as if she were a porcelain doll, the most prized in his collection. “She’s unbreakable.”

Gloria smiled and reached up to touch his face. He leaned his palm into her hand.

“Unbreakable, but not impenetrable, it would seem,” Frankie amended, straightening up and heading in the direction of the infirmary. “Which way, Conor?” Frankie asked.

Conor winced and gripped his torso with pained eyes. “This way,” he said, pointing.

“What’s wrong with him?” Gloria asked as they walked past him.

Frankie chuckled. “Shot in the chest.”

“Are you serious? Is he okay?”

“Settle down, woman, you’ll get your chance to slice and dice everyone soon enough. First, you need tending to. You know what they say on flights? Air mask on babies first and such?”

“That’s not even close, Frankie. You put the air mask on yourself first before others,” she corrected.

Gloria tried to ignore how Frankie walked as though he were stepping over body after body. She could see some people propped up against walls with others tending to cuts in their foreheads and handing out various medical supplies. She wondered how many had died. How many were wounded? Were her own men of any help? Did they all turn against her the second Sergei’s men turned up?

Frankie’s mouth twisted up even further. “You’re absolutely right. Thank you for proving my point.”

“Jesus,” she said. “Why do I keep engaging?”

“I don’t know, but my name is Frankie, not Jesus. I know you might get confused because of the semi-long hair, good looks, and desire to get down on your knees and…” Frankie stopped, and his giddy expression dropped.

“What is it?”

“Juniper,” he whispered.

“Put me down right now, Frankie,” Gloria instructed.

He didn’t fight her but did keep a hand around her waist to stabilize her as she turned to look at the figure on the bed. She looked just as she and Conor had left her. Her hands were folded neatly on her stomach. A small smile graced her lips. She looked perfectly posed: Snow White under glass. Gloria took a few uncertain steps toward her with Frankie at her side. She pressed a few shaky fingers to Juniper’s cold neck and jerked them away.

“She… She’s gone,” Gloria whispered.

“I don’t see any new wounds, no blood,” Conor observed, just as quietly.

“She died before it all began,” Gloria surmised. “She let go.”

“I’ll go get Thomas,” Conor suggested.

“Yeah, man, that’s a good idea,” Frankie said, patting Conor on the shoulder.

“Thomas is here?” Gloria asked.

“Yeah.”

Gloria cleared her throat as the levee she’d built to hold back her emotions seemed to develop a crack. “She had a son.”

“She did?”

Gloria nodded. “In the city. New York.”

“Nora is certainly good at what she does. I had no idea.”

“She said…” Gloria looked up at Frankie. “She told me he was my brother.”

Frankie pulled her into his chest and let out a long breath. “I’m sorry, Vixen.”

Thundering feet made Gloria step back enough to see Thomas burst through the doorway, then pause.

“No,” he said once. His lips quivered, and tears immediately sprang to his eyes. His mouth opened and closed once, twice. “No,” he repeated, his voice shattered. “No, no, June.” He stumbled into the room and knelt down by her side. He brushed Juniper’s hair back from her head. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her lips, as, like in Snow White, it may bring her back to life.

Frankie gripped Gloria tightly and pulled her back a bit to give Thomas more room to grieve.

Thomas took Juniper’s hand and gripped it tightly. “She was free. She’d made it out,” he said to no one in particular. “I saw her at the apartment building. She told me ‘no’ over and over, but I just kept coming back. I drew her back in. I did this to her.” He leaned forward and bit the knuckles of her hand that he was holding between his own. “God, June, I’m so sorry. I should have… We should have done it.”

“This wasn’t your fault, Thomas,” Gloria told him. “What my father wanted was something only she could give. It had nothing to do with you, or even Accardi. That was only a bonus.”

“She wanted to run away. Move to Arizona.” He laughed and shook his head. “She wanted to be tan all year long, open a motel, call it Dot’s or Velma’s or…”

“Flo’s,” Gloria supplied.

Thomas glanced over at her, and he bit his lip as he nodded, the tears in his eyes making a few appear in her own. “Flo’s,” he agreed. He looked back down at the woman he loved. He smoothed her hair back again and kissed her forehead, his lips lingering on her skin a moment longer than a fleeting glance. He pressed his forehead to hers. “You’re free now. Really free,” he whispered.

“We should give them some time,” Gloria said, urging Frankie back with a light nudge.

At the doorway, Frankie scooped her up again in his arms.

“We can work in what’s left of your dad’s office,” Frankie remarked, his voice taking on a different tone than earlier.

He walked without a word toward her father’s office. Once inside, he laid her gently down on the desk and scrounged what he could from the various drawers to tend to her wounds. One perk of a mafia household: there were bandages and antiseptics in every room. She watched him carefully as he worked. She knew none of her injuries were that serious. They were all close. Another inch here, a different instrument there, and she might not have been so lucky. She stared up at the man she loved who wore an unfamiliar expression with a crease between his eyes.

Gloria reached up and smoothed the furrowed skin with her index finger. “You’re quiet now.”

“Hm,” was the only answer she got, proving her point.

“Frankie… I never thought I’d miss the sound of your voice,” she admitted quietly. She cupped his cheek, and he sighed, closing his eyes. “Talk to me… Please”

He let out another breath and held the wrist of the hand cupping his cheek. He stroked the tendons of her wrist with his thumb. He kept his eyes closed as he said, “I couldn’t get to you, and I was…” Another breath out. He opened his eyes and shook his head gently so as not to dislodge her hand. “I was scared, Vixen.” Tears stung her eyes as she looked at the raw emotion showcased in his expression. “I’ve done this for a long time. I’ve seen a lot of people die. People who were very important to me. Besides, uh, besides Stephen, I’ve never felt so hopelessly…” He closed his eyes again. “Helplessly terrified. I even… I even prayed to God,” he admitted, opening his eyes.

Gloria smiled and ran her thumb across his cheek once. “It’s over now,” she whispered. “I’m safe.”

He nodded and sighed. “You’re safe, for now,” he lamented, and the distinction he made in that statement sent a pit in her stomach, and it was then she realized the full weight of his emotions. What he felt today, he would continue to feel, and that was the trick to get Frankie Donati to stop talking and cracking jokes: fear of the future that lay ahead.