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I know Shane won’t let go easily. He wants control and power. To Shane, it has nothing to do with me. He doesn’t love me. He wants control over me and confuses that with love. And now that he doesn’t have either of those things, he’s going to react one of two ways. Let me go, or get revenge.
While Grayson is gone, Frankie follows me around their house like a mother watching her toddler walk for the first time. “Let me take a look at your injuries.”
“I’m fine,” I tell her, sitting on Grayson’s bed. “I’m gonna take a shower. You don’t have to watch me.”
“Can I ask you something and you tell me the truth?”
I swallow, nodding slowly. I’m not entirely sure what to do.
“That day you came into the ER, and I was working. You told me you’d fell, and I didn’t believe you because the bruises on your stomach didn’t match the fall.” She pauses, her face white, her eyes glassy. “They pulled me off your service because we’re family, practically, but I read your chart and I kept it to myself. I knew you’d had a miscarriage, and I waited for you to say something to me. Why didn’t you?”
It takes every ounce of control I have not to burst into tears. “Because I didn’t know how to say anything. I still don’t. I don’t… even know how I feel about it.”
“Did you want to have a baby?”
“With him? No. I didn’t. And the relief I felt having that miscarriage haunts me. I mean, fuck, Frankie. I prayed for it to end and now I feel like the worst person in the world because it did.”
She pulls me into her chest. “You’re not the worst person in the world. You’re one of the bravest people I know. I can’t imagine how hard these last few months have been for you not knowing how to tell any of us.”
Though I’m relieved to have her to talk to about this, it’s fleeting, as with all my emotions, wavering between calmness and hysteria for the unknown.
“I’ll let you shower, but then we’re heading to the station to report this.”
“I will.” The second those words leave my lips, my cell phone rings for the first time in days.
In a moment of anger, I throw it at the wall, knowing exactly who it is. Surprisingly, it still rings. That thing could be bombed and it would still ring if Shane was calling.
Frankie stares at it. “Holy shit.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m impressed with your arm though.” Her eyes find mine. “Do you think it was him?”
“Probably. Who else would be calling me?”
“Grayson?”
My eyes widen and land on my phone. “Do you think it was him?”
“No.” She laughs. “He broke his cell phone a few days ago and hasn’t gotten a new one. I wanted to see your face if I said his name.”
I stare at her, blinking slowly. “Why?”
“Because it’s the only time you relax.”
Breathing out slowly, I smile. “Am I that transparent?”
“Honey, you don’t forget a love like you guys had. You just don’t.”
She’s right. You don’t.
“Grayson would die for you,” she adds. “Hell, even Ethan and I don’t have that.”
I roll my eyes. “Ethan loves you.”
“He does, but not enough to die for me.” She laughs. “Now his Converse, pretty sure he’d save them before me.”
My brother does love his Converse, and his Gibson guitar, but not like he loves Frankie. She doesn’t need me to remind her. She’s joking, but it eases some tension from the conversation and I think that’s what she was going for.