The Inner Struggle: Beginnings Series Book 7 (16 page)

BOOK: The Inner Struggle: Beginnings Series Book 7
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“Ellen will never do it,” Frank stated.

“Yes, she would.”

“Nope,” he disagreed strongly, “I’m telling you. She won’t.”

“And I’m telling you she will. Talk to her tonight.”

“All right.” Frank threw his hands up. “Am I done? I want to go see the kids before the game. I still have the field to set up.”

“You’re done.”

Frank stood up. “You still refereeing?”

“Yes. You boys can’t play nice without me. Don’t forget your clinic stop to John Matoose.”

“I won’t.” Frank moved to the door.

“Frank,” Joe tapped the activity reports, “you forgot these.” He waited until Frank picked them up. “One other thing. Remember what I told you about controlling those fists of yours. You’re usually really good about that.”

“I know.” Frank headed back to the door. “I don’t know what came over me. I lost it.”

“Even if you feel you have good cause, try not to lose it again on some poor unsuspecting soul, especially people you have to live with.”

“I will.” Frank opened the door. “Thanks.” He pulled the door closed, wiggled his jaw, and spoke out loud. “He didn’t say anything about John nailing me. Fuckin Dean.”

“I heard that.” Joe called from his office.

Frank looked puzzled at the door and lowered his voice to a whisper as he walked away. “He heard that? Man, I thought the hearing was the first to go when they get that old.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“Let’s go. You’re out.” Joe tapped Henry on the shoulder as he held the clipboard and pointed backwards to the sidelines of the field.

“No, Joe.”

“Henry you’ve been hit. You took a shot center chest. That’s a deadly hit. You’re dead. You’re out.”

“Joe, that’s not right.”

“Why do you argue with me every game we play?”

“Because Joe, I’m the only one you always send out no matter if they get hit by a corpse or not. Dan shot me. Dan’s been dead for ten minutes, therefore I’m not dead.”

“So therefore you’re out. Get out Henry or you won’t play next game.”

“Aw.” Henry stomped off the field plopping down next to Dan who was covered with red paint. “I hate you.”

Joe stood watching the game. Four men remained and one of them was Frank. He could see Frank darting in and out rolling around acting like such a big kid. Soon he heard the popping gunfire and saw Frank, red paint on his thigh holding Marcus in the air. “We won! I caught him.”

Joe lifted his whistled and blew three times loudly. “Game’s over. Fall in for scores.” He moved across the field to Frank. “Good job.”

“Sixty fuckin miles an hour and I got him.” Frank held out Marcus who looked almost six but was barely one. The pudgy kid with a square head and no hair kicked his legs out and laughed a grunting laugh. “Marcus,” Frank spoke to him, “if I put you down will you go with Joe?”

Marcus grunted and nodded his head.

Frank set him down and bent down to Marcus level. “Good job. Rest up and we’ll do it again.” Frank held out his hand and quickly retracted it. “What did I tell you about that biting shit? Take him, Dad.” Frank stood back up.

Joe reached down for Marcus but stopped. “What is this? Who shot the kid?” Joe indicated to the red paint on his back. “Who killed the trophy?”

From the field, weeds high, Cole held up his hand. “Sorry Joe. I was trying to get Frank.”

“Well that takes fifty points off your score. Come on Marcus, let’s go let Andrea check you out to see if you can play another round.” He held tightly to the little boy’s hand and brought him over to Andrea who sat reading a book. An umbrella shaded her from the evening’s sun. “Check him out, Andrea.”

Andrea set down her book. “Come here, Marcus. Let me look at you.”

“Why are you here today instead of Dean? Marcus is his study.” He watched Andrea examine Marcus.

“Dean’s not feeling well. I think it’s stress.”

“Stress?”

“Joe, you know he has an awful big load to carry on his shoulders with this virus.”

“So do the rest of us, Andrea. I’m trying to keep it out so he doesn’t have to deal with it. I’m not stressed. Do I look stressed?”

“Old. You look old, Joe.”

“Eh.” Joe waved his hand at her. “Where’s he at now?”

“Home. He and Johnny confirmed it today. Robbie’s men have our new virus. They just injected rabbits or something like that to get a grip on it. They said it’s mutated so they don’t know how well the agent they had reaction from will work on it.”

A huffing Frank joined them. “How is he? Is he ready? My men await.”

“He’s fine.” Andrea gave Marcus to him. “Just make sure your men are careful with those paint pellets. He has a small welt on his back.”

Frank stopped walking with Marcus. “No shit?”

“Those things hurt, Frank.”

“Yeah I know but this kid has special skin. Wait until I tell Dean. That’s something he might want to know. He may be able to use that in our defense against them.”

Joe shook his head at his son. “Yeah sure, Frank. When the Army of Marcuses show up, we’ll paint ball them to death.” He laughed in ridicule at his son as he walked away with Marcus. He stopped laughing when the scary fact hit him that Frank may just have had a point. They’ve burned skin samples of Marcus and froze them, but received no reaction so why did something as simple as a paint ball hurt him?

 

<><><><>

 

“You’re sure?” Ellen asked Henry, standing outside of Frank’s house.

“Yes, I don’t understand why you are making such a big deal, El. Really. It was a small drink after the game.”

“Maybe I am overreacting but I’m worried. I just want to stop in and talk to him.”

“I understand.”

Ellen walked to the front door and paused as she grabbed the handle. “You aren’t coming?”

“No, you go on. Call when you’re ready to come home. I want to make some food.”

“Don’t get too engrossed in cooking. I won’t be long. Come and get me in a half an hour.” Ellen smiled and walked into the house. She saw Josh lying on the couch, tossing a ball up into the air. “Hey Josh.”

“Hey El.”

“Finding constructive things to do with your spare time?”

“Um yeah. I’m counting see. Ninety-six . . .” Thump. “ . . . ninety-seven . . .” Thump. “Ninety-eight.”

“I get the point. Where’s Dad?”

“Upstairs folding laundry.”

“You don’t think I’ll get stuck into helping if I go up there do you?”

“Nah.”

“Good.” Taking a breath, Ellen slowly walked up the steps. The upstairs bedroom doors were closed which told her Frank had the kids in bed early. But Frank's bedroom door and the light was on. “Frank?”

“El?” Frank said so surprised as he folded a small shirt. “I was gonna come over to see you after I was done.”

“You were?”

“Yeah.” Frank held up a small green tee shirt. “Check this out. For Brian. Gemma in fabrics made Bri a pair of cammies too, just like Joey's. I figured since he was walking I might as well train him young.”

“He’s one.” Ellen sat on the bed.

“Yeah, but he’s already exhibiting signs of a true Slagel with all that daredevil shit, jumping down the steps.”

“Like I said, he’s one.” Ellen grabbed the tee shirt. “It’s cute though. Did you pull out the other plastic gun?”

Embarrassed like, Frank titled his head, “Yeah, but like everything else it went into his mouth,. So that has to wait. Now Joey,” Frank grinned, “that kid is a natural. He looks the part.”

“He looks just like you, exactly like you.” Ellen lay down sideways on the bed watching Frank. “So, what were you coming over for?”

“You first.” Frank folded the last item, removed the basket from the bed and lay on the bed on his side facing her. “Why are you here?”

“To see how you are.”

“What do you mean?”

“After today, with your lopsided fight with John.” She touched his small red spot on his lip.

“Ow El, war wound.”

Ellen laughed at him. She propped her head up with her hand.

“Can you stay a while?”

“Sounds serious. What’s up?”

“You and I have to talk. We need to talk.”

“Did I do something?” Ellen asked.

“Nope. But I’d like you too.”

“Frank no. I can’t. No. Besides the fact that I physically can’t make love to you, I . . .”

“Whoa.” Frank covered her mouth. “As much as I would like to be close to you and God knows it’s been forever, that’s not what I want you to do.”

“Uh-oh.”

“Now see. I didn’t even ask.” Frank took on a serious look. “First off, let me tell you I’m sorry. I’m sorry for doubting you about John Matoose being in with George.”

Ellen immediately got excited. “You know? You have proof. Yes! Are you gonna beat him up again, Frank? You’re gonna kill him aren’t you. No wait, better yet, drop him off somewhere so he’s stuck outside the walls.” She nodded with a huge grin.

“No, John is going to stay in Beginnings.”

“How can that be? That sucks.”

“But, it’s the only way we can get to George. If he’s working for George on the inside, it is a sure fire way to mislead George and eventually find out all we can about him.”

“I guess in a way that’s smart. What do you need me for? To testify against him? Of course I don’t know where I’m going to . . .”

“El.” Frank halted her. “God, how does Henry deal with the rambling? O.K., John isn’t just going to volunteer his George info. He may have a lot. We don’t know. We have to get close to him. I already apologized for beating him up so he doesn’t think I beat him up because he’s in with George. We have to find out what he does, when he does it, and everything we can about his twelve hours he doesn’t work. Got that? We know he’s communicating with George. We don’t need to prove it. We need to get information on how he’s bringing us down. How he’s planning it. What he’s doing. Are you listening?” He waited for her to nod. “If we bust him and let him know it, George’s plan of action could change. This way if we find out through John, we can beat George for certain at his own game.”

“Frank, you made a rhyme. That’s cute.”

Frank winced. “Thanks. Anyhow, getting close to John is part of the plan. That’s where you come in.”

“Oh this is secret spy stuff. I get to be a spy for you, don’t I, Frank?”

“Yes. You will report anything and everything to me.” Frank told her.

“Everything?”

“No matter how minuscule.”

“Even if it’s he doesn’t wear underwear?”

“El.” Frank closed his eyes. “You know what I mean. Patterns. Hiding places he could have. I’ll check that out.”

“Oh I love this.” Ellen rambled again fast and furiously. “I love playing a spy. Remember when me and Henry were the spies finding that wall. I still remember you called us the misfits of mystery. Boy, were you mean. But who was right Frank? Is that why you’re asking for my help? Is it?”

Frank nodded. “You were right about the wall. And I’m asking you because both my Dad and me think you’re the one who can do it.”

“Yes, Joe’s in on it. It has to be big.”

“El . . .”

Ellen smiled. “I get to follow him around huh?”

“No.”

“Harass him again?”

“No.” Frank shook his head. “I need you to get close to the man, not cause him to kill you.”

“Oh.” Ellen brought her fingers to her lips. “Let me think. Close.” Her hand lowered and a horrified look came over her face. “Oh my God! You want me to sleep with John to get close to him.”

“No!” Frank snapped back.

“Thank God.” Ellen let out a breath. “What other way is there to get close.”

“Not John, Jenny.”

“Oh my God! You want me to sleep with Jenny!”

“El, fuck. No. Not sleep with Jenny, get close to her. Christ I can’t believe you’d even say that. Anyhow.” Frank changed his demeanor. “We think through Jenny, we can inadvertently find out a lot about John. Be Jenny’s friend. Her confidant. Can you do that?”

“I think I’m going to be sick.”

“So you won’t do it.”

“Actually . . .” Ellen smiled. “This can be fun. But how? We hate each other.”

“My dad thought of that. He said go to her for guidance.” He heard Ellen laugh loudly. “El, she’s the female ring leader around here. That’s probably why most of the women don’t like you. In fact, if you get close to Jenny, you'll get close to the other women. Who knows what you’ll find out?”

“I don’t have to type stupid reports do I? Joe gives me enough of those.”

“No, but you do have to report to me on a daily basis. We’ll review progress and anything you learned. So will you?”

Ellen grinned. “Yeah I’ll do it.”

“Thanks.” Frank leaned to her and kissed her quickly. “Wait a day or two until the John getting beat up thing has calmed own, all right.”

“Yes.” She held up her hand. “Can I tell Henry? It would be fun to watch him cringe when he sees me and Jenny being friends. But it wouldn’t be very nice to do. Can I or am I not allowed?”

“You can tell Henry. He has a role to play in this too. I’ll talk to him tomorrow about it.”

“O.K. but let me be the one to tell him about Jenny. Promise.”

“You got it.” Frank let out a long breath as if the burden of the conversation was over.

“Frank?”

Frank looked at her in the silence.

“Thanks.”

“For what?”

“Letting me work with you. I’ve never worked with you before. I’m glad you letting me be a part of it and if it means talking like this all the time, I’d like that. I like when we talk.”

“I do too, El.”

“You know.” Her hand reached to his and her finger tips grazed across his rough ones. “You know, if you ever need to talk to me, about anything, day or night, I’m here.”

“I know this.”

“Do you?” She questioned. “Do you know that if you’re upset you can knock on my door? If things are hard for you, you can come to me to help you? Do you know this? I’d do anything for you, Frank.”

“Why . . . Why are you being all serious all of the sudden? You went from Chatty Kathy to Suzy Serious. What’s up?”

“I’m worried about you.”

“Worried about me? El, why?” Frank spoke softly. “I’ve got my life together. I have my kids. I have a great new son. I have you in my life.” He covered her mouth. “Not as much as I’d like, but I’m working on that.” He let his hand go. “Don’t worry. O.K.?”

BOOK: The Inner Struggle: Beginnings Series Book 7
9.22Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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