Page 80 of The Billionaire Who Saved My Cat From The Mafia

I know he means it.He accepts each little scrap I give him like it’s a priceless treasure.I can see that every time I open up, it makes him care for me more.It makes me care forhimmore.

What am I doing to this man?To myself?I’m leaving!

“My Dad raised me.He was a really good guy, Special K.He had a huge heart.My mom took off when I was a baby, so he tried to make up for it.He wanted to give me the world.I took swimming and horseback riding lessons.I took dance classes for ten years—ballet, jazz, ballroom, hip-hop.Played soccer and volleyball.And I was surrounded by a kind of informal support network.I felt loved and taken care of.I had it good.”

He nods, waiting for me to continue.

“But I had to leave when I was fifteen after my dad died in a traffic accident.A drunk driver in a pickup truck hit him.Dad was on his Harley and died on the scene of massive injuries.”

He tenses under me.“Fuck.How awful, Frankie.I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”

“Me too.I miss him every day.I loved him a lot.Still do.”

“But… fifteen is so young.Wasn’t there someone else in your family?Your support system?Someone who could step in?Please tell me the drunk driver served time.”

A bitter laugh escapes me.

The last thing I ever wanted to do was drop my sob story on Special K—my sob story of origin or any of the sob stories that followed.But something broke in me back there at the waterfall.I started talking, and now I want to spill my guts.

But I know this is the perfect place to stop.

Special K carries me in silence the rest of the way to the campsite.I hear and feel Pussy purring in the backpack.My cowboy’s steady pace rocks me, lulls me into a deep relaxation.I feel cared for.Like I belong.

If I didn’t have to hold on I would already be asleep.

If I didn’t have a psycho killer after me, I’d allow myself to fall in love with Special K.

I wish things were different.I’d giveanythingto have a life built around this kind of connection and belonging.Around this man.

I close my eyes and turn my head, resting my cheek against his sturdy shoulder.

CHAPTER 39

Special K

My heart is sore.My gut twists for Frankie’s loss.

I set her down on the stump and remove Pussy from the carrier.

“I should take her on a walk,” Frankie says.“She probably needs to do her business.”

“I’ll do it.We’ll be right back.You okay here for a few minutes?”

“Of course.”

“I’ll make us something for dinner when I get back.”I lean down to kiss the top of her head and leave the camp with Pussy, the leash-walking, pig-fighting, dumpster-rescued cat.I wonder how many lives she’s used up and how many she’s got left.

I remember Boots saying that her cat was the only thing she had, that she couldn’t live without her.

Maybe now I understand why she feels that way.It doesn’t make it any less gut-wrenching to hear, though.

Today has been heavy for both Frankie and me.Intense.It’s like we had to clear the air before anything else changes with us.We’ve already gone from zero-to-ninety in the blink of an eye.I think we both knew that whatever’s happening between us couldn’t be allowed to progress unless there was full disclosure.

At least on my part.

I estimate that I’m looking at about thirty percent disclosure on Frankie’s part.She hasn’t even told me her last name But I do worry about much I don’t know, and how the lack of information will impact my ability to help her.

Ugh.