Undeniable (28 page)

"Been gettin' sloppy fuckin' seconds from this fuckin' asshole for too fuckin' long," Frankie muttered as he shoved my dress up and spread my legs apart.  "Tha
t's gonna fuckin' stop today."

I h
eard his belt buckle open,
the slide of his zipper, then I felt his weight and he began pushing inside of me.  I bit my lip to keep from crying and kept my eyes on Deuce.

His eyes never once left min
e, he kept me with him, held me tight inside his eyes, where it was safe and warm and no one could hurt me.

☼☼☼

He had been beaten within an inch of his life.

He had been strangled, stabbed and shot.

He had shot, stabbed, strangled, beaten and killed.

He'd
been hurt, scared, mad, angry as fuck and homicidally inclined.

Fuck, he had been so fucking pissed off he'd had his old man killed.  His own flesh and blood.

But never, NEVER, had he felt like this.

There wasn’t a name powerful enough to describe what he was feeling, to convey what was happening inside of him.  It was beyond words, surpassed all emotions.

It was living death.

He was living through mother fucking death.

His eyes never left Eva's.  As long as he held her gaze she remained impassive, a little lost even as if she had detached from her body and was taking shelter inside his.  It was all he could fucking give her and it wasn't even close to enough.  This should have never happened.  He'd gotten lax thinking Frankie wasn't a threat anymore.  This was his fault and Eva was paying for it.  He was paying for it.

Frankie wasn't hurting her, not physicall
y.  Emotionally, mentally, yeah
,
but physically he was being gentle, touching her with the sure knowledge of a man who knew how to pleasure this woman, knew what she liked, what would make her come, kissing her bared skin, stroking her relentlessly, making it nearly impossible for her to control her body's reaction to what he was doing.

Worse, t
his wasn’t new to her.  Frankie had raped her befo
re, he was sure of it
. 
His
Eva had become accustomed to forced sex, had taught herself to make the best of it, to fucking enjoy it even because she’d known Frankie wasn’t ever going to let her go.

It was killing him. Every dip of his mattress, every one of Frankie’s grunts, every harsh intake of breath and wh
imper from Eva…was killing him.

Frankie had said he’d been watching them.  He’d known just how much he loved Eva.  And he’d known that this would kill him.  Slowly, day after day, week after
week, year after fucking year.

Chase had gotten off easy.

In his peripheral vision, he saw Frankie get up on his knees and lift Eva’s hips.  His hand snaked around her waist and dipped between her thighs.  Eva lost her battle.  Her breath caught, her eyes rolled back, even as tears streamed down her face.  Her legs quaking, she went face first into the pillow, crying out softly through her orgasm.  Frankie followed her down, groaning loudly, his body jerking.

Then Frankie turned to him.  And grinned.

Living death.

He cried for the first time in forty four years.  He cried exactly three silent tears.  But for him it was a fucking waterfall.

Six thirty eight P.M.

Deuce blinked up at Cox.

"Prez?"  Cox whispered hoarsely staring at his cuffed hand.

"My girls?" He asked numbly.  "Ivy, Danny?"

"With Kami," Cox whispered.  "Where's Foxy?"

"Gone," He said brokenly.  "Frankie."

Cox dropped to his knees and tested the cuffs.  As if he hadn't already.  As if he wasn't missing most of the skin on his hand and hadn't broken all his fingers trying to get out of it.  But his hands were too fucking big.  So now, he was cuffed to a radiator with a skinless broken hand.

"Gotta get Freebird," He said.  "He's the only one who can pick cuffs quickly."

He nodded.

Cox paused at
the door.  "Deuce," He said quietly.  "We're gonna get her back."

He didn't look at him.

"He's a dead man,
Prez
."

No.  Frankie wasn't a dead man. 
Frankie was a dead man.

☼☼☼

Eleven eleven P.M

Frankie's entire body twitched violently, something that always
happened before he went into a violent rage.  I stayed where I was, sitting on the motel bed, watching him closely.

"Can't take much more, Eva.  You fuckin' Chase broke me and then you start fuckin' the horsemen bastard AGAIN, you have his fuckin' baby and I swear to you I almost killed you a million times.  Comin' out of his fuckin' club, playin' with his fuckin' kids in the yard, ridin' on the back of his fuckin' bike.  I stood in a line behind you at the bank holding a knife to the base of your fuckin' spine ready to kill you and your bastard baby.  But I couldn't fuckin' do it!  I couldn’t hurt you!  AND IT FUCKIN' BROKE ME EVA!"

"Baby," I whispe
red, trying hard not to think about
Frankie killing my daughter.  "The cops know you killed Chase.  They're looking for you."

He gave me a look that suggested I was the crazy one in the room.  "Babe.  Who the fuck cares 'bout the
cops?"

Suddenly his eyes bugged out.  "You liked fuckin' him, didn't you bitch?  You liked rich boy cock!"

"No," I whispered, swallowing hard.  "It's what he wanted in return for getting you out."

Frankie laughed.  "Glad I made him eat his own cock.  Fuckin' deserved it."

Unable to get the imagery of what he had done to Chase out of my head my stomach lurched and I began to gag.  Frankie sat down beside me and rubbed circles on my back. 

"That's what he did baby," Frankie whispered and I could hear the smile on his face.   "Gagged and screamed."

My stomach emptied.

☼☼☼

Nine oh three A.M.

Deuce stared at his fucked up hand.  The doctor's at the ER couldn’t give him a cast because of the lack of skin.  They’d had to set each bone and individually splint his fingers, then they treated and wrapped his skinless hand and p
ut the whole fucking mess in a sling.

Now he was back at the club,
drinking a bottle of scotch
,
watching Danny play peek-a-boo with Ivy.  He and his boys had searched for hours for any sign of Frankie or Eva and had come up empty.  They'd had no choice but to involve the cops.  Who hadn't turned up jack shit.

The FBI was g
oing to show up any minute now.

Deuce knew Frankie wasn't going to go back to prison.  Men like him would rather die
than
be behind bars.  And this particular man was so fucked in the head he was going to take Eva down with him.  So she could be with him forever.

Fucking hell.

He was going to lose her to Frankie.  Again.  This time for good.

"Deuce," Kami said, sitting down beside him.  "You need anything for the pain?"

He needed Eva.  She was all he fucking needed.  She was all he had ever needed.

"No," He croaked.

She wrapped her skinny arms around him and he let her hold him because he knew she was hurting just as bad as he was.  And truthfully
he needed the fucking comfort.

ZZ looked over from behind the bar and the stacked security monitors there.  "
Prez
.  Feds are here."

Ripper stepped out of the hallway.  "Prez, go ahead and let
‘em
in. Boys got shit locked up tight."

He lifted his chin in ZZ’s direction.  “Get the kids outta here and let the assholes in.”

☼☼☼

Nine oh seven A.M.

I pulled on my restraints, wincing as the rope chaffed painfully against my skin.  I was on my stomach, all four of my limbs were tied together behind my back, Frankie had even gone so far as to connect my wrists to my ankles and stu
ff a pillowcase in my mouth.

All of this just so he could feel safe leaving me here while he went for food.

He didn't trust me and when Frankie didn't trust someone it never ended well.

With a lot of maneuvering and an incredible amount of pain, I was able to roll onto my side to relieve the pressure on my lungs and stomach.

I should have listened to Deuce a long time ago.  Frankie was beyond saving.  This was who he was, who he had always
been.  Who he would always be.

I had to end this once and for all.

☼☼☼

Nine fourteen A.M.

"So what you're trying to tell us, Mr. West, is that despite your state of the art security system, Franklin Deluva was still able to enter your club entirely unnoticed?"

Deuce scowled at Agent Ricardo Quintanilla.  He was a short, f
at and bald Mexican who wore clothing a size too small for him.  He'd had to deal with him before, many, many times, serving warrants and doing impromptu searches at the club.  He had a new partner.  A sexy little blonde bitch with a tight ass, big perky tits and bad attitude.  Half his boys were eyeing her like she was a piece of fucking cake.  He wanted to stab her in the eye with a screwdriver.

"He musta cased the place for awhile," Ripper sai
d, glaring down at the Quintanilla
.  "Knew what camera's to avoid."

Quintanilla surveyed Ripper's face and grimaced.  "Deluva's handiwork I assume," He said gesturing his cell phone towards Ripper's face.  "Seen it before.  Only those unlucky bastards were all dead."

"Fuckin' great," He growled.  "Let's just keep sittin' round here chattin' about the fucks Frankie buried while he starts choppin' up my fuckin' woman."

"Mmmmmmmm," The blonde bitch hummed, tapping her pen against her lips.  "Don't you mean Franklin Deluva's woman or maybe Chase Henderson's woman?
"

She turned in a circle, doing a survey of the room and all the people in it.  "Have you all had Mrs. Fox-Deluva?  Is she everyone's woman?"

He shot up off the couch and then Ripper and Jase were on him, pushing him back down.

"Say something else bitch!" He roared, struggling against his boys.  "And you won’t live to see another day!"

"Are you threatening a federal agent Mr. West?" She said.  "I'm simply suggesting your woman may have gone willingly with her husband!"

"Marie!" Quintanilla bellowed.

"Willingly?" He roared.  "He made me watch him rape her!  Do you fuckin’ get that?  I was chained to a fuckin’ radiator watchin’ my woman gettin’ slammed by a fuckin’ psychopath and I couldn’t do shit about it!"

He heard a shriek that could have been either Danny or Kami or both.  The rest of the club went silent.

Cox sucked in a breath.  "Prez," He whispered.

He ignored him.  "Listen to me agent cunt," He his
sed.   "I'm way past threatenin’
you.  I'm straight ready to fuckin' bury you so you best hope my boys don't
let me go."

"Don't let him go," Quintanilla said dryly.  He turned to his partner.  "Get the fuck outside."

☼☼☼

Eleven fifty five A.M.

I wolfed down my cheeseburger and fries.  It had been forever since I'd last eaten and I was starving.  Frankie was watc
hing me from the corner of the room near the door, a bottle of vodka between his legs and a blank stare on his face.

"Can I have some?" I whispered, pointing at the half empty bottle.

He glanced down at the bottle then back to me, nodding.

I slid off the bed and slowly walked to
wards him.
S
toppi
ng a few inches from his feet,
I sat down and reached for the bottle.  I had just wrapped my fingers around the neck when Frankie's hand clamped down over mine.

I looked up.

A tear slid down Frankie's cheek.  "Eva," He whispered.  "Can't sleep baby, can't fuckin' sleep.  It's been weeks and weeks and weeks…"

My heart skipped.

"Baby," I said, reaching for him.  "Come here."

Scrambling to his knees, he engulfed me in his arms and buried his face in my neck. Trembling, my heart breaking, I stroked his hair, his back.

"Remember my prom?"  I whispered.  "Remember dancing on the roof afterwards?  We danced and laughed until the sun came up.  It was one of the best nights of my life baby."

His large body sagged against mine and he started sobbing.

"Oh god baby, no." I pulled his head up so I could see his face.   "Frankie," I breathed, wiping his tears off his cheeks.  "You don't have to cry anymore.  I'm here now.  I'm never leaving you, never again baby."

"You can't," He rasped.  "I can't sleep without you and I can’t breathe baby, I can’t fuckin’ breathe.  I feel sick to my stomach all the time."