I’d taken more steps from the window than I realized and then raced back to it, freezing a step away, and then running to the screen again.
It couldn’t be.
There was absolutely no way.
We stared at one another soundlessly as I contemplated the odds I was suffering a mental breakdown with visual hallucinations.
“Frankie?” I whispered, wanting so much for it to be true. Could it really be him?
He nodded and pointed to the screen, putting one finger out to his lips and asking for my silence.
My fingers throbbed as I pushed against the metal pieces, pulling them in and loosening the screen. The metal jiggled against the plastic and I froze, trying to go slower to not make noise but also wanting to touch Frankie as quickly as possible to guarantee his realness.
The top of the screen came loose and fell out. I hurried to undo the bottom half as well, making all kinds of noise and not caring.
Frankie grabbed on to the screen as it came free and chucked it behind him, letting it land in the grass. He pulled himself through the window in one moment, and in the next, I found myself in his arms.
He tasted like freedom and forever in our first kiss.
“I’ve come to your rescue,” he said when he pulled back long enough to look into my eyes. He was breathing heavily and dark bruises lined one side of his face. He had a big square Band-Aid above his eye.
I felt his firm arm in my hand, but my heart wasn’t sure I believed the operation. “You’re alive?”
How could it be? The Grandmaster left no one alive. I was already in his arms, but I held on even tighter, squeezing him to make sure he didn’t get away and to guarantee he was a living, breathing person. Grief did weird things to people.
Frankie flinched and sucked in a bit of air through his teeth. Against my screaming heart, I released my hold and took a step back. “You’re hurt.”
He waved my concern away and gathered me back up so we stayed chest to chest. “I’m fine.”
Such a man answer. I shook my head, but then laid it against his shoulder, letting myself feel his warmth through our clothing.
Intense yelling came from downstairs in the log cabin, only the volume and none of the actual words making their way past the heavy wooden door separating Frankie and me from my captors.
I tried to move toward the window, hoping if he found his way to the roof we’d use the same way down, but Frankie didn’t budge.
“That’s our cue, Cara Mia.”
He tried to take a step toward the door, but I held him back. “No, the Grandmaster is down there.”
I never wanted to see my cousin again, and I definitely didn’t want Frankie to go up against him. He’d been in a car accident and obviously taken many blows from my cousin. And just two days earlier, tased. How much more did I expect him to withstand because of me?
I just wanted us to run away together and never look back.
Against my hesitation, Frankie and I made it to the bedroom door. I allowed him to open it and lead us down the hallway and then down the steps to the first floor.
There in the living room, testosterone oozed out of the space. The Grandmaster, Jason, and Damien sat on the same cream couch I had been on earlier in the evening.
They looked about as ticked off about it as I had. A few feet from the couch, a barrage of men all holding guns aimed at the seated men filled up the rest of the space.
“Your guys?” I asked Frankie in a whisper after catching sight of Big Tommy in the living room.
He nodded.
Behind the men holding weapons, even more streamed into the log cabin’s front door, each one carrying a big black duffel bag. They were the same ones loaded down with cash in Frankie’s office and then the back of the black SUV. The new men looked nothing like Frankie’s. They were larger with more muscle in their arms, and each one of them wore a black polo shirt and a pair of jeans rather than the business suit Frankie’s men wore. It had to be more of the football team.
Nine bags came in and then the tenth one landed with a thud on the floor as Ridge—the same man whose house we’d visited when he told Frankie he couldn’t get involved—filled the space of the doorway.
No one spoke until Frankie, with me still wrapped under his embrace, found a spot next to his men. Frankie stood tall and met my cousin’s seething glare without a care. “I’m taking your cousin. She’s mine now.”
