Page 47

Frankie killed Monster as soon as he brought us to him. I couldn’t find it in me to feel bad for him. That’s what happens when you try to play games with Frankie.

Dimples would be next if she messed around. She realized that the first time I watched Frankie beat the shit out of her. The moral side of me has pity for her, but the mother in me doesn’t feel an ounce of remorse for what she’s going through.

She brought it on herself for getting tangled up with someone as fucked-up as Frankie. All because she wanted a man who never wanted her.

Each time one of Frankie’s men come at me, I fight with an intensity to my movements that have never been there before. These men are the bullets I step in front of to protect my children so they don’t have to watch something that will scar them for life.

It’s nothing but amusement to Frankie, a sick perversion he gets off on.

If I don’t fight, Frankie threatens the twins.

He wants my blood and with each drop his men pull from me, he becomes more bloodthirsty.

They’ve begged him to let them rape me, but he’s refused. Instead, he offers Dimples to them. She doesn’t fight it. In fact, she seems to get off on watching the shit they’re putting me through.

“You’re the reason I killed him, you know,” Frankie says, his words slurring a bit from the damage Pope did to him.

“Killed who?” I pant, spitting out a mouthful of blood from the hit I took.

“Jonah,” he states, as if I’m supposed to know who that is.

“Who is that?”

Frankie giggles and looks down at the phone in his hand. “Your husband.”

Say what?

“Is that your real name?”

Frankie walks closer, and the kids scream at him to leave me alone. Worried that he’ll turn his anger on them, I give them a smile.

“Mom is okay, guys. I promise. Keep quiet, okay?”

The guy guarding them checks the chains wrapped around their ankles, and I take a step in his direction.

Frankie clucks his tongue. “He’ll kill them.”

Gritting my teeth, I stop moving and turn back to him.

“Good girl,” he croons. “Big Joe, take Dimples to the other room and get your dick wet. No need to traumatize the kids just yet.”

He fiddles with his phone some more, and then a conversation plays through the speaker.

“Come on, Frankie. We took her from him. She’s mine now. She carries my last name. There’s no reason for us to switch anymore.”

My stomach rolls as I listen to Frankie’s voice speak . . . to himself?

Then he turns the phone around and brings it to my face. My eyes struggle to comprehend what I’m seeing.

There are two of him.

“You’ll do as I say, Jonah.”

“I love her, Frankie. I can’t keep letting you hurt her. I can’t keep trying to make what you do to her right, apologizing for your actions. Seeing her watch me with fear kills me inside. She’s my wife. I love you, brother, but she’s my wife. They’re my kids. No more.”

His twin?

What?

Oh, god.

Vomit spews from my mouth as the realization hits.

Frankie’s twin never died.

He pauses the video and stares at me with a weird smile on his face. “Jonah found me when we were sixteen. He was so hungry for a connection with me, he was willing to become me anytime I wanted him to.”

“I’m not married to you?”

It’s the only thing I can think to ask right now.

“Nope. I figured I would be a nice big brother and reward Jonah for everything he did for me.” Then he scowls. “I didn’t expect him to choose you over me.”

“What did you do to Jonah, Frankie?”

He presses play again, and I watch in horror as mirror images of each other face off.

“You choose her over me?” Frankie asks, shocked.

“It doesn’t have to be a choice. Don’t you see that? I love you both.”

“I’m going to fuck her and you’re going to watch this time. She’s a whore. She doesn’t love you. You’ll see how much she likes it.”

“No, Frankie. No more. You don’t get to hurt her anymore. Please, brother. Just let me love her,” Jonah begs.

A calmness rushes over Frankie’s face, and he gives Jonah a smile. “Okay, Jonnie.”

Jonah closes the distance between them with a smile so filled with happiness that he doesn’t see Frankie pull the knife from his sheath.

Jonah wraps his arms around Frankie, closes his eyes, and whispers, “Thank you.”

I want to cry out for Jonah to watch out as Frankie lifts the knife, but it would be useless.

Tears fall from my eyes, and sobs tear from my chest as I watch the betrayal and anguish cross Jonah’s face when Frankie plunges the knife into him repeatedly.

“Why?” Jonah whispers, blood leaking from his mouth.

“You chose her over me.”

“I just chose to love her, too.”

Frankie shrugs, dropping him to the ground. “And now you won’t get to anymore. Now, she’s all mine, and neither of you gets her.”

“Birdie,” Jonah breathes one last time before his heart stops beating.

I fall to my knees, my heart shredding from the agony of having to witness that.

It was Jonah.

All the good that I saw in Frankie was never actually from him.

The sweet times. The laughter. The teasing. The times when sex was soft. The gentle heart I came to care about.

It was all Jonah.

Frankie was the yelling. The anger. The name calling. He was the fists that tore my skin and the feet that broke bones. Frankie was the pain I carried for days and the sex that was stolen from me. Frankie was the heart I hated.

But he’s also right.

Jonah fell in love with me, and Frankie killed him because of it.

I’m the reason Pope doesn’t get the chance to know someone good. Someone like him and like Gavel.

Frankie tosses his head back with wild laughter. “This is more of a rush than beating your ass is. Look at the pain this has caused you. Does it hurt? Knowing that someone loved you so much and I killed them because of it?”

“Fuck you,” I croak, wiping the tears from my eyes.

“Leave her alone, you stupid fucker,” my boy screams. “My dad will kill you. He’ll hurt you so bad.”

“Quiet, Legend,” I order, terrified of what Frankie will do.

“No, Mom. Dad said only pussies hit women.”

I groan.

Fucking Pope.

For someone who was tortured for days, Frankie moves fast as he rushes toward Legend.

And then it happens.

Frankie puts his fucking hand on my kid.

Something inside of me snaps.

I charge him with a roar. He’s not expecting it, so I’m able to take him to the ground easily. My fists are feral as I aim them wherever I can reach. A sharp pain pierces my side, but I just grunt and keep hitting.

Eventually, he gets the upper hand when he slams his knife into my thigh.

Pain steals my breath as it rushes over me in waves.

“Bitch,” Frankie screams, spittle hitting me in the face.

“And you’re a psychotic cunt,” I say with a broken laugh, dropping my head back against the concrete as dizziness has my eyes crossing.

He punches me in the jaw.

I scrape my nails over his face.

He places his palm over my mouth and nose.

I shove my fist into the wound on his side from Pope.

Once.

Twice.

Three times before he releases my face, and I suck in sharp breaths.

The twins cry, begging him to stop, but there’s madness in Frankie’s eyes.

I cough, watching as specks of my blood splatter over his face.

Coldness fills my veins, and I roll my head along the concrete floor so I can see my babies.

“I love you, my babies,” I croak. “Close your eyes, okay? Daddy will be here. He won’t let you down.”

My limbs grow heavy, but I shake my head, fighting to stay conscious even as pain throbs under my skin.

They need me.

He needs me.

I’m not ready to go yet.

Not ready to leave them.

Tears trail down my temples and mix with the blood leaking from me.

My eyes drift closed, and he’s there to meet me.

“I don’t think so, little bird. It’s not your time yet,” Jonah croons, his inked fingers trailing over my face in a gentle caress. “You have too many people who love you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m not. I got two good years with you and the twins.

You didn’t deserve the things Frankie put you through.

I’m the one who’s sorry for being weak with him.

” Jonah leans down and brushes his cool lips over my forehead as a loud roar comes from somewhere around us.

“Now, open those beautiful, multi-colored eyes, little bird. And tell my big brother that I said to make it hurt.”

My eyes flutter open just as a beautiful beast with long hair kicks down the door.

Frankie’s eyes jerk to mine when I choke out a laugh.

“One, two, my beast is coming for you . . .”