Turbo shook his head and grabbed hold of Frankie’s hands.
“No, Nate, she means the guy who hurt her back in Chicago. The guy she had to leave her perfect job for and disappear out of fear,” Turbo said.
His brothers all asked “what?” at the same time, and Frankie stared up at Nate in shock.
“You know? How do you know? Pease don’t tell me you called there. Please don’t say he’s coming for me.”
Turbo shook his head.
“I talked to someone in human resources at the agency where you worked. They said you disappeared. They have a couple of paychecks for you. They have no idea where you are and I didn’t divulge any information.”
“I did some investigating myself. We’ll talk about it later. All that matters right now is your safety and recovering from tonight’s events,” Nate told her.
“We’ll make time to discuss it. I was up to my neck in the investigation I’m involved in. Let’s get her to our place and help her to rest.” Turbo wrapped his arm around Frankie’s side and helped her to get into the truck.
He closed the door, and Nate, Rye, and Mike were there, appearing angry and concerned by the grim expressions on their faces.
“What the fuck? You don’t call me or let me in on the fact that you’re investigating Frankie?” Mike asked in anger, pointing at Turbo with Rye right behind him.
“I was at my wit’s end and thought what could it hurt to find out where she came from. I wasn’t expecting to see her name and picture on an advertising firm’s website and to learn she was making her way up in that firm, dressed all professional and sophisticated, fresh out of college, and then disappeared. It didn’t make sense, so I dug a little more and found out about her leaving her job without notice. She left her apartment without paying off the lease, and she withdrew all her savings, closed her accounts, and closed all her credit cards. Everything indicated she was running from something or someone and feared for her life. That’s all I got.”
“So you put two and two together, and this ex-boyfriend, a cop, had something to do with it?” Rye said.
“It’s what I’m thinking, but I didn’t want to search more and red-flag her in case this guy is looking for her. We’ll talk about it later. Maybe now she’ll open up and tell us all about it,” Turbo said and then walked away toward his patrol car.
Rye and Mike got into the truck with Nate and Frankie.
* * * *
Frankie winced as she tried to remove the top they’d given her at the hospital. Her Prestige T-shirt had to be cut off of her as the doctors in the emergency room tended to her injuries.
She moaned softly, trying not to alert the guys that she was trying to look at the damage. Nate had made his way into the emergency room despite the nurses’ efforts to keep him outside. But when they asked if he was her boyfriend, she’d shaken her head despite wanting to say yes. They had him leave the room before they cut off her T-shirt.
The nurse Catalina had been very kind and given her a sheet to cover her bra and chest. She was there to assist with the X-rays and to get on and off the machines. Nate and the others waited patiently for her.
It made her think a lot of crazy thoughts. They acted as if they cared, and she felt they were sincere, but there was still a fear that they could turn out to be like Kevin and could hurt her. But when she thought those things, she winced, feeling guilty and wrong. Nate had saved her and Cassidy from God knows what. He had waited and seen Keith enter the house. If he’d just left without hesitation things could have been very different tonight.
But she had to remember what Turbo had done. He’d looked her up. He’d investigated her to try and find out about Kevin. What if Shemar was still working at Franklin and Hursch? What if she’d caught wind of someone asking about her? Shemar could call Kevin or Carlotto. She thought of Shemar instantly because Shemar was the one person Kevin used to watch Frankie at work. It had taken months to figure out who Kevin knew at the company, but then Shemar had delivered some roses from Kevin and told her Kevin wanted Frankie to meet him for lunch. She wouldn’t put it past Shemar to call Kevin and inform him that a detective called looking for Frankie. That could make matters worse and send Kevin this way. Her stomach clenched, the paranoia taking its toll on Frankie, exhausting her.
She winced and removed the top then turned sideways. She gasped at the sight. Her entire shoulder and upper arm were bruised badly, and there were slit marks and scratches all over the place.
Keith was a monster. He’d beaten Cassidy up, striking her repeatedly. It was all too familiar to Frankie. It reminded her of Kevin and his abusive ways and his demand for control, respect, and order. He was at that breaking point. He would have crossed the line, too, and struck Frankie, beat her like that. He’d promised that she would always be his no matter what and that he would kill anyone who tried to take what belonged to him. The way things had ended he would come after her with a vengeance. But Keith wasn’t Kevin. Kevin had killed before. Kevin had been part of numerous mobster-like murders along with Carlotto, and she knew about them. She’d overheard confessions, plans, and agendas. She was a liability and one handgun wasn’t enough, especially in a sneak attack similar to Keith’s.
She jumped when she heard the knock on the door.
“Frankie, are you okay?” Rye asked.
“Yes. Um, okay,” she mumbled and reached for the shirt she’d dropped. She gasped, and the door creaked open.
“Are you sure?” Rye asked, and when she locked gazes with him, he appeared angry.
“Jesus, baby.”
He walked into the bathroom, placed a hand on her good shoulder, and turned her so he could see the damage.
“Catalina said the ointment would work so your skin won’t scar.” He leaned forward and pressed his lips against her skin. She closed her eyes and gripped the counter.
When she felt Rye’s hands grip her hips then gently move up the center of her back, she nearly moaned.
“Your skin is so smooth and tan.” His lips, warm, firm, pressed against her skin again, moving higher up her spine, over her bra strap, and to her shoulder. He used one hand to move her hair to the side, and then he kissed the nape of her neck.
“Rye.” She whispered his name.
“Yes, baby?”
She slowly turned around to face him. His eyes roamed over her breasts. She completely forgot she was only wearing a bra and her skirt. She was so lost in his touch and the feel of his lips against her skin.
He leaned forward and pressed his lips to her neck then her shoulder and lower.
She held his head with one hand and ran her fingers through the short hair he had spiked in the front. She felt him kiss and suckle her cleavage, and then his tongue rolled under the material and made contact with her nipple.
“Rye.”
“Frankie.”
She gripped his head tighter and felt his fingers unclasp her bra. His mouth suckled her breast, and she felt the bra fall. He pushed it out of the way. He cupped one breast and feasted on the other.
“Oh God, Rye. Rye.” She moaned louder.
His other hand moved down her thigh then under her skirt. She widened her stance, giving him better access to her body and her needy cunt.
“Oh.” She moaned as his fingers pressed under the material of her panties and straight to her cunt. In and out he stroked her pussy, reminding her how good it felt to be stroked down there. She thrust her hips against his fingers, and he pulled her nipple between teeth and tongue.
“Oh God, Rye. Rye, please.”
He released her nipple.
“Come for me. Come for me now,” he ordered her then nipped against her neck, sending her spiraling out of control.
She screamed out and shook as she came. He was relentless in his strokes and in his dirty talk.
“You’ve got my cock so damn hard right now, Frankie. I need inside this tight, wet pussy. Tell me you want that. Tell me,” he demanded to know as he thrust fingers deeper into her pussy.
She gripped his shoulders, and he nipped her breasts.
“Yes. Please, Rye. I want you, too, but…”
“No buts. Just let go and trust us.”
She was shocked to hear Turbo’s voice. He stood there watching her, watching Rye thrust his fingers into her pussy as she remained in place with no bra on.
“Please.” She gasped as Rye removed his fingers then kissed her lips. He gripped her hips and then effortlessly lifted her up into his arms.
“Wait. I’m not sure,” she whispered, holding on to his shoulders, her eyes glued to his.
“We’ll take you upstairs. Let you get showered and put on something comfortable. Then we’ll talk. Take things as slow as you need,” Turbo told her while he caressed her hair and glanced over her exposed breasts. She tried to press them closer to Rye, who chuckled.
“I don’t think that’s going to work, baby. Besides, this sexy body is going to belong to my brothers and me really soon.”
Rye’s words made her pussy leak some more. She acknowledged that she was indeed in trouble here. There would be no turning back, no running from this deep connection surely developing between her and these brothers.
She pressed against Rye and let him carry her from the room while Turbo took her bra and shirt with them and the others followed.