“What do you want, Frank?” I ask.
“Was wondering when I’d see you again, Lyddie. Especially after I found out about what happened to Morrison at home two days ago. I was worried.”
My hand squeezes the napkin in my lap into a ball as I recall that cop walking up the stairs, the sound of Nico’s gun, and the hole in that man’s head.
“You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”
“How could I?” I fight to keep my voice even. “I haven’t been home in seven years.”
“You know it’s a crime to lie to an officer, right? Obstruction of justice and all that.” He leans forward and pats my face before he gives my cheek a hard squeeze that lingers just a little too long.
“Stop it, Frank.” I wince and recoil from his touch, fighting the sudden nausea threatening to overwhelm me, but he doesn’t let me go.
“Your mother misses you, Lyddie.” His voice is oily smooth as he keeps squeezing my cheek. “She wants me to tell you that she’s real sorry she missed your call the other night.”
“Let me go,” I whisper through clenched teeth as tears start brimming at my eyes. “Please.”
I hate that he’s mentioning Mom like this so casually, like he isn’t the fucking reason why I haven’t seen her in seven years.
He clucks his lips as his eyes start sweeping down my legs, lingering too long on my thighs. “Oh, baby girl, don’t be like that. Your mother and I are just worried about you. Come home, Lyddie.”
“Fuck you, Frank.” I hate that he keeps calling me that. “Is my mom alright?”
“She’s alive,” he says.
“That’s not what I asked.”
He gives my cheek one last hard squeeze and then finally lets go. The pain lingers but I don’t reach up to touch it.
“What even is alright when it comes to that woman?” He leans back and crosses his arms. “She’s so fucking high half the time she doesn’t even know who I am anymore.”
“And whose fault is that, Frank?” I snap.
His face darkens, and all pretense of civility evaporates. Before I can respond, he stands up and points a sausage-thick finger in my face. “You shut your fucking mouth, girl. All I’ve ever done is put a roof over your head when the two of you needed one, and the only fucking thing I ask for is a little respect.”
Then, he freezes and his eyes are looking down. At first, I think he’s looking at my chest, but it’s only when I follow his gaze that I realize he’s looking at the ring on my left hand.
“Well.” He reaches down, grabs my wrist, and his voice goes deadly quiet. “Guess that explains how you came into all this money, Lyddie.”
I try to wrench my hand back but he’s too strong. He leans in even closer, and I can smell the stale coffee and cigarette on his breath. “This is your last fucking warning, you little whore. Come home or–”
But I never find out what he’ll do next. One second, Frank’s face is inches from mine. The next, he’s yanked back and I find myself staring up as Nico picks him up by his collar, bellowing.
“Take your filthy hand off my wife!”
11
NICO
I have never wantedto kill a man as much as I want to kill the one with his fingers around my wife's wrist.
Red clouds my vision as I yank him up by the collar and slam him into the wall. A framed picture clatters from the wall. The entire place freezes all at once as eyes turn towards us.
But I don’t notice a fucking thing as my fist cocks back and connects with the cop’s face.
"You dare put your fucking hands on my wife?" The words explode from deep inside as I slam my fist into his face with every word. "You dare to fucking touch her?"
He claws at my forearm as my hand tightens around his throat. His face turns red, then purple, and then blue as he struggles to breathe. I refuse to let go. Blood splatters my fingers. Bone crunches with every blow. The smug shine in his eyes goes glassy and wet. His heels start scraping the floor for purchase they won't get.
