Mikael glared at Backus and ordered, "Get me the whip."
Vince tried to control his fear, because it wasn't Mikael he was afraid of. He'd been tortured before. As the first lash tore through his shirt and flayed his back, instead, he feared Frankie would always wonder what happened to him, thinking he'd left of his own accord, thinking he didn't want him. He feared he'd never get the chance to tell and show Frankie how much the wolf meant to him, how quickly he'd gotten under his skin, and how easy it would be to fall in love with him.
Chapter Ten
Frankie walked into his brother's shop, the bell over the door jingling merrily. Normally, the sound made him smile. This time, he glared at the offending noise. How dare it sound so happy when he felt like his world was falling apart.
"Hey, Frankie," Reb called from where he cleaned equipment. "I haven't seen you since this morning. Too busy fucking your vampire to give me a call?" his brother asked, clearly teasing.
"We didn't fuck," he mumbled, shoving his hands in his pockets.
"You smell like it." Reb finally looked up, a grin on his face. Just that quickly, it disappeared. "Hey, what's wrong? That asshole do something else stupid?"
Frankie opened his mouth to answer, then shut it just that quickly. Dobs hadn't actually done anything. Why had he left again? "I found out Dobs isn't his real name."
Reb gave him his full attention, leaning on the glass case toward him. He shrugged. "So what? At least it's not Debra or something? What gives? His scent is all over you so obviously you enjoy each other. What could be so bad?"
"His real name is Vincent Marché," Frankie said.
His brother still looked confused. "I know."
"Do you know what Dobs stands for?" he asked.
Reb shook his head.
"Doberman. You know why he's called that?"
Again, Reb shook his head.
"Because he hates shifters so much, that when he goes after them, he tears them apart," Frankie muttered, plopping into a chair and crossing his arms.
Reb rounded the counter and sat down next to him. "Awe, Frankie. Who told you that?" he asked gently, wrapping his arm around his shoulders and pulling him into a brotherly hug.
"His friend, Lex. He made it sound like they thought it was cool," he told him. He knew his brother would think he was pouting, but he couldn't help it.
Reb sat quietly for a moment, just holding him as Frankie rested his head on his brother's shoulder. Finally, he asked, "What did Dobs have to say about it?"
Frankie flushed. "I didn't ask," he admitted.
Sighing, Reb asked, "You wanna tell me everything that happened today? Why wouldn't you ask him about it? Were you arguing about something?"
Frankie frowned. "No."
"No, you don't want to tell me or no, you weren't fighting?" Reb asked.
"Um … "
Sighing, Reb shifted and gripped his head. "Look at me," he ordered.
Obeying, Frankie turned and met his brother's gaze.
"Tell me everything … unless you had sex. I don't need specifics on that," he amended.
Frankie told him about his day, from tackling Dobs and forcing him into Nick's living room, to telling him about his injury, to Dobs asking him to go to see Doctor Digby with him. Finally, after twenty minutes, he finished the tale with Lex's story and his decision to head over to Reb's.
He began to get nervous when his brother didn't say anything … for several minutes. Finally, Reb threaded his fingers through Frankie's hair and pulled him close, pressing their foreheads together. It was the position Reb used when he had something important to say, and he hadn't used it in years.
"Frankie, what's the most important thing I told you about having a relationship with your mate?" he asked softly.
Swallowing hard, Frankie struggled to set aside everything that had happened today and think. It took a moment, but finally he replied, "That making a relationship work with your mate is about respect, communication, and compromise."
"Very good. That's right," Reb responded. Frankie smiled at the praise, glad he'd pleased his brother. "Now, Frankie, it sounds like Dobs worked hard to communicate and compromise with you today. Did you offer him the same courtesy?"
Frankie cringed. "I should have talked to him, huh?"
"Yes, Frankie. You really need to talk to him," Reb said. He pulled away and squeezed his shoulder. "The good thing is, it's never too late to communicate. Why don't you give him a call?" he urged.
Nodding, Frankie hung his head. "I feel … foolish."
Reb pulled him into a hug. "Awe, don't feel that way, kiddo," he said. "Everything is fixable." He released him and patted his shoulder. "Head into the office. I'm closing up."
Frankie nodded. As he moved toward the back, he listened to the sound of a bolt sliding into place-Reb locking the door-and the rustle of a plastic laminated card-his brother flipping the open sign to closed. The mundane, everyday sounds calmed him, helping him relax.
He sat down in the desk chair and stared at his phone. He hoped Dobs would forgive him for ditching like that.
Only one way to find out.
Dialing Dobs' number, Frankie waited impatiently for the ringing to cease and his mate to pick up. It didn't happen, instead, he got voicemail. His voice stuck in his throat for several seconds, before he managed to say, "Uh, hi, Dobs. This is Frankie. I, um, sorry I left so suddenly. Lex told me about your nickname and I guess I didn't take it very well. I know now that I should have talked to you, but I'm not very good at relationships, yet. Will you call me so I can apologize?" He paused, then added, "Um, I guess that's it. Bye."
He set the phone on the desk and stared at it, wondering why Dobs hadn't picked up. Maybe he was still talking with Gordon?
"Hey, did you call him?" Reb asked, carrying a tray of tools.
"Yeah, no answer," he said, standing to help.
"I'm sure he'll call back soon," Reb assured. "Give me a hand cleaning these last couple things and then we'll go for a run."
"Oh, I don't know. Maybe I should wait for Dobs' to call back," he said, glancing toward his silent phone, willing it to ring. It didn't.
"Are you sure? It'd get your mind off everything. We won't be out long. Half an hour, an hour tops."
Frankie did enjoy stretching his legs. "Okay, but just a short one."
An hour and a half later, Frankie quickly scrambled back into his clothes. He loved running as a wolf, but sometimes he wished it could be like in the fantasy books he occasionally read-where the clothes on the werewolves magically disappeared and reappeared, making it unnecessary to strip in frigid weather.
Snorting at his thoughts, he pulled out his phone and grinned. Two missed calls. Quickly, he dialed into his answering service. His smile faded as he listened to Lex apologize for saying what he did, and he urged Frankie to give Dobs-Vince-the opportunity to explain. The second message was also from Lex. This time, he apologized for interrupting and since Vince wasn't picking up his phone, he hoped Frankie would have Vince call him. He had information about Mikael.
He handed his phone to Reb and said, "Listen to this. Why would Lex think Dobs was with me?"
Reb frowned as he listened to the two messages. Then he handed Frankie his phone back and advised, "Call Dobs and ask."
Frankie shook his head a moment later. "It's going to voicemail still." Now he started getting worried.
From the look on Reb's face, he wasn't the only one. "Give Lex a call."
Nodding, Frankie called Lex. The vampire answered on the second ring. "Hey, Frankie, sorry I had to interrupt you guys, but-"
"Dobs isn't with me," Frankie quickly cut him off.
"Wait … he's not? But he went looking for you hours ago. Like, ten minutes after you left Doctor Digby's office," Lex said, his confusion coming through the line.
"Well, I went to my brother's tattoo shop, then we went for a run," Frankie said. "I left him a message, but haven't heard from him."
"Oh, shit. I've got a bad feeling about this," Lex muttered. "Seb, Caspian, get over here. Vince is missing."
The last sentence was muffled, but still loud enough for Frankie to hear. He frowned, struggling to keep up with what was going on. Reb grabbed his knee to get his attention. "Ask where he was looking for you."