A heavy silence dragged on as I stared at him, begging him to tell me how the future might play out for us. If I stayed here, would he take care of me forever or would the feelings between us slowly cool? If I stayed for him, I could never return to Chicago.
When it came time to devote my undying love to Frankie, I chickened out. “It’s not safe in Chicago until the situation with Greg is settled,” I said rather than admit I wanted to hook up with a front runner of the Maine syndicate.
Frankie’s fingers found their way back to my skin, and he ran them up and down my leg with a softness unmatched by Westley’s response. “Now that I know why he’s gone against the family, I will take out Greg. It will be cleared up for you can catch a plane ride home.”
The idea of returning to Chicago was a heavy one—a mixed bag of emotions. I did my cousin wrong. Part of me wanted to return home to make it better, but I also yearned to take a big leap and do something for myself.
I lifted my head and, for the first time since we sat in the chair, met Frankie’s gaze. He smiled with a little sadness in his eyes. “You telling the truth, Cara Mia?”
I grabbed a deep breath and stilled myself for my cousin’s reaction. It was now or never. “I’m not coming back to Chicago. I don’t want to leave Maine.”
“Are you fucking kidding me? I will come there and kill him myself. Is he forcing you? Did he threaten you? Has he touched you, Shiloh?” Westley’s questions came one after the other, not leaving me time to answer.
Frankie laughed and his carefree expression returned. “Sadly for you, no coercion needed,” he said and then pressed the button on the phone, ending the call.
I reached for the receiver, wanting to call my cousin back. “He’s going to be pissed. You should let me explain.” I didn’t know how, but I’d come up with something.
Westley’s only cousin broke his rules, lied to him, got herself into a fit of trouble, and now told him she wanted to stay in Maine? I wouldn’t be able to return to Chicago for fear he put a hit out on me after all those slights.
“What would you have said?” Frankie asked, his fingers still in on my legs, the heat of them searing through my concerns. “Tell me.”
Could I do it? Tell Frankie the way he made me feel? The way I wanted to spend the rest of my life gathered up in his arms as long as he promised to always keep me safe and love me with the same determination he’d shown the last few days? Did those things last? Did words exist to explain them?
I twisted my fingers together in front of me, putting distance between us.
Frankie gave it a full minute as silence stretched between us and I struggled with what to say so it didn’t come out a big mess. He reached for the phone receiver and my hand darted out, stopping him. “What are you doing?”
He lifted one shoulder in a shrug, a move full of vulnerability. “I’ll call Westley and tell him to come and get you.”
CHAPTER 22
My heart stopped. Literally. For a full three beats, and when it started up again, it felt as if it might pound out of my chest.
“No,” I practically yelled in Frankie’s ear and grabbed his hand so hard it hit the top of his desk.
Frankie dropped his hand, and his other fingers dug into the skin above my ribs. “Make no mistake, Shiloh, I do nothing halfway. If you’re mine, you have to be mine.”
So many unspoken words were left between us. I licked my lips and nodded, understanding what he meant. Mostly. I wasn’t sure he realized it went both ways for me.
“I want to stay.”
He shook his head as if he didn’t believe me. “Do you? If you’re gonna be my woman, you live in my house and wear clothes I buy, and if anyone asks how you feel about me, you respond with a true devotion of love. I’ll make you scream every night, but only for me. Look at me and say that’s what you want.”
His words riled me. “Frankie,” I said, emphasizing his name and not in a great way. “That might have worked in the past, but new-age women don’t want to be bossed around like little toys. And we want equality. If I belong to you, then you belong as much to me and nobody else.”
“Done,” he answered much too quickly.
I shook my head, not accepting it. “No, you don’t understand. I mean no other women. I’ll finish my degree and get a job and do whatever I want. If I see your eyes linger too long on a waitress, I will make you pay.” That’s how it’s done in these family situations. The women were supposed to stay home and be all cute, and the men got to fuck anything that moved. But not in my relationship.
It was the number one reason I said I’d never marry into a crime family. The only loyalty these men had was to each other. Their rules were archaic and not ones I’d play by.
“That’s exactly what I meant when I said done,” Frankie said, agreeing to my demands as easily the second time.
He kissed me in his chair, two of us pushing the rollers back. His lips were firm and demanding, as if he tried to take ownership of me in that moment. But I didn’t go down easily. My relationship had to be equal the entire way, so I kissed him back as forcefully.
I might not have been part Italian descent who grew took over part of a bludgeoning crime family, but I’d never let anyone else touch what was mine. I’d fight for him as hard as I’d fought for everything else in life. And I’d come out the winner.
“Do you promise I’ll be the only girl for your entire life?” I asked, letting a bit of my insecurity slip through.
