I turned my head to his shoulders and rolled my eyes, but I didn’t open my mouth and argue.
“Don’t be a moron, Shiloh.” The Grandmaster almost jumped off the couch, his arms outstretched and reaching for me. Big Tommy stepped in between us, his gun aimed at his chest. I placed my hand on Big Tommy’s shoulder. Since Frankie was alive, I’d go back to speaking to my cousin. For now. He’d probably piss me off again, eventually.
I didn’t plan to return to Chicago with him, but I also didn’t want anything bad to happen to one of my last remaining family members.
“I’m sorry, Westley,” I said, making sure I looked him right in the face when I spoke, hoping he’d see the honesty in my words. “But I love Frankie.”
Movement on Frankie’s face caught my attention, and I wheeled back to him as a drop of blood slipped past his eyebrow and ran down his cheek. The cause was a large gash over his eye reaching into his forehead where his skin had split open under a hastily applied Band-Aid. Probably my cousin’s doing. I’d yell at him about it later.
“I brought back your money so we’re square,” Frankie said, motioning to the bags of currency now lining the wall in the log cabin.
“You fucker,” Westley said, his jaw teeth gnashing together, but he didn’t make a move from the couch. “I’ll just steal her back from you.”
My word these men were all morons.
Frankie shook his head and squeezed me tightly. He leaned a little more of his weight on me than I thought he realized—a sign he was worse off than he’d made himself out to be upstairs. “Now, now, Westley. One day soon we’ll be family, and that’s not how you talk to family.”
“Fuck you.”
“Westley!” I yelled and then stomped my foot. When dealing with two testosterone-filled men, the best way to make them see how serious you were was to throw a hissy fit. And if that’s what needed to happen to make sure Frankie and I found our way from the building safely, I’d do it.
Westley stood from the couch and held his hands out in a placating gesture to let the men know he meant no harm. He walked to me, and even though Frankie had a tight hold on me, he didn’t force me away from my cousin.
“You’re really gonna pick the Pokémon?” Westley asked, staring at me like if he looked hard enough, he’d see me make a “help me” motion.
I stared right back, making sure when I answered I left no room for doubt. “Yeah. I choose him.”
He took a deep breath and gave me one last glance, double checking, and then turned to Frankie. “I respect a man who keeps kicking and fighting for what he wants, even when the opposition left you lying face down in a ditch.”
My lips fell into a tight line, and I leaned forward, wanting to reach out and hit Westley, but Frankie held me firmly to his side.
“But know this,” my cousin said, turning back into his Grandmaster persona. “If you ever touch her, I’ll come for you. I left you live this time because of mob retaliation, but it won’t stop me if we meet again. I’ll take your heart out myself. Fuck the New York mob.”
Frankie didn’t move a muscle. He didn’t make so much as a single indication he worried about my cousin’s threat. The only sign he even heard the words was his quick nod. “If I ever hurt her, I’ll do it myself.”
Frankie stepped back, and I followed. My cousin reached out with one hand, placing mine in his and giving it a quick squeeze of reassurance. Then I fell into step beside Frankie. We were out the front door and down the porch, headed toward a barrage of black SUVs, when Frankie’s body jerked. His leg gave out, his knee buckling as his body headed toward the dirt. I struggled to keep him up, taking on most of his weight as he gripped my waist hard.
“Frankie. They hurt you. We need to get you to a hospital.”
“It’s fine. I’ll have one of the guys get me a new Band-Aid.”
CHAPTER 26
“Would you stop fussing over me?” Frankie asked as he tried to move my hand away from the Steri-Strips currently helping the wound above his eye heal.
I didn’t listen and returned to my fussing. “No, if you’re going to get yourself kidnapped by my cousin and beat up on the side of the road, it’s my job to fuss over you.”
Frankie repositioned me on his lap. “Cara Mia, your job is not to worry. A doctor has seen me. Your job is to warm my bed and ride my cock every night.”
I slapped him on the shoulder, knowing he was trying to get a rise out of me. “Be as crass as you want. It doesn’t bother me. I’m still going to fuss.”
He winced as I pulled up the second bandage, wadded them together and threw them away, attaching the new one to the same spot. “You have to keep these things clean.”
“You just changed the bandage this morning,” he argued.
Frankie may have put up with a lot to get me in his bed, and he may have promised to love me forever, but he really had no idea what he agreed to. I might not have been a member of an Italian family, but that didn’t mean I planned to sit around and be a little woman who didn’t take care of her man.
He reached up to move my hands away, and I swatted at them. “I swear to you Frankie, if you don’t let me do this, you’ll regret it.”
