Restless, p.20
Restless, page 20
“Apologies for my tardiness, but it takes a while for bank tellers to scrap this together. It would’ve been way faster if you let me write you a check,” she responds with an amount of attitude I’ve never heard from her lips before.
“Okay. What the hell is going on here?” Sorcha asks, her voice booming throughout the club.
“I’d like to know that, too. Care to get us all up to speed, darling?” Gillian joins in on my sister’s demands.
Donatello scratches his chin as Francine hands him the bag.
“Oh, right. Did I forget to mention that this—” he motions to the room around us. “—was fully sanctioned?”
What the actual fuck?
“You approved her vandalizing your property?” I press, completely astonished. If this is true, why the fuck did he call me and my sister here?
“Yes. It was a business arrangement, and I am a businessman firsthand. She got a space to let out her... frustrations, and she offered to pay for the damages—including medical bills—replace the inventory lost and fund the renovations I’ve needed to do with the place.” He opens the bag and starts thumbing through it.
“I may be crazy, but I’m not stupid,” Francine adds before both of them, along with Lorenzo, laugh. “If I came in here and destroyed the place, there would be a lot at risk, including my mother.” She turns her fairy-green gaze back on him before tapping his arm. “You did forget to mention the partnership.”
Partnership?
“Oh, and also, in exchange for paying for the renovations, she’s going to be a silent partner. After she signs the contract, she’ll own five percent of Club Ninety-Nine. It really sweetened the pot when I did my research and found out she’s the heiress to Gray Enterprises. Her father is an old associate of mine, and it better benefits me to be on the side of the future instead of the present.”
Except he’s not her father, but that is not my story to tell. I can’t say shit. She doesn’t even know, and if she did, she’d break into a million fucking pieces and never recover. Francine will never know who truly sired her.
What the hell was Donatello thinking? The request alone should’ve told him that Francine is a loose cannon. Silent partner does mean she has nothing to do with the business—more like an investor who gets a lifelong chunk of the pot.
“Where is the contract?” Francine asks, still refusing to look at me, and on the inside, I’m begging her to even just glare at me to know she even realizes I’m in the room at all.
I’m losing her completely, and it’s driving me mad. I knew at some point she would get fed up with my bullshit, but I didn’t expect it to feel like an anvil compressing my spine, weighing on my lungs as it pushes down my body.
It feels like I’m losing a chunk of my soul as she and Donatello turn toward the stairs.
“Thanks, Lorenzo,” she mutters as she moves over to him, stands on her toes, and plants a kiss on his cheek.
Witnessing it is like pulling staples out of a gushing wound.
She then tugs down the collar of his shirt as he smirks like a cocky bastard.
“Oh, my! You need to get that thing checked out. It looks a bit inflamed,” she feigns concern, but he doesn’t seem the least bit affected.
“I kind of like the pain, dollface.” Then, he has the balls to wink at her, undressing her with his eyes.
That’s it. He’s a fucking dead man.
“Crazy man,” she mutters while shaking her head, following Donatello to the stairs.
“Whatever you say, vampire girl.”
***
I barely managed to leave Donatello’s club without killing Lorenzo, but as I walked out, the urge became too great. I decked him, then threatened to chop off his balls and hand-deliver them to his mother if he ever touched Francine again. Not much scares him, but the malicious intent in my words drove him to silence, and the lack of retaliation was enough to say he knows I’ll follow through with my threat. Like any red-blooded male on the face of the earth, he’s rather attached to his balls.
Donatello was not happy I attacked his heir, but I did warn him on Halloween that no one was to lay a hand on Francine.
I make it up to my room and lock the door so everyone knows to give me my space for the rest of the day.
Eoghan has started getting on my ass about leaving all electronic devices at home when dealing with Donatello or doling out punishments. Apparently, they can be used to track our steps if ever subpoenaed by the courts.
Because I left my cell in my room, it’s no surprise that the red light blinks on it. I grab the device and put in my code to see a text from Donatello with a link.
Donatello: Part of my deal with your girlfriend is to make sure you see this. Just don’t attack my son over it again.
I have a feeling I know what it is, but curiosity killed the cat for a reason. It touched the hot stove that already had steam coming off of it.
I press the link, and a video pops up: the security camera footage from the club, but it’s empty. That is until Francine walks in wearing her Harley Quinn costume and starts to trash the place. It starts slowly, knocking one glass after another off the counter, but it gradually turns into a tidal wave of destruction.
My stomach drops when Gillian shows up, and I listen in on their brief conversation. Francine is on edge, especially when she mentions that she knows me, but the tension in her shoulders... it’s jealousy. That gives me a semblance of vindication. Even though nothing is or ever will be going on between me and Gillian, Francine’s reaction speaks volumes. What the hell is she thinking, though? Gillian is old enough to be my mother—literally—and I have no MILF tendencies. Not that there’s a problem with Gillian. She’s hot as fuck and, if I were twenty years older, maybe, but no one gets my dick hard like my psycho ex-girlfriend does.
Gillian leaves after giving a dagger to Francine, who then resumes fucking up the joint. I’m a bit impressed that she does so much damage in such a short amount of time. For the most part, it’s surface damage, as if she was consciously aware that she would be paying for every cent that would go into cleaning up her mess. If I wasn’t dissecting her behavior, I might think she was just losing her shit. No, she wasn’t. Everything she does is methodical.
That is until the three stooges—also known as Donatello’s sons—arrive to break it up.
My cock thickens in my jeans as I watch her saunter over like she’s the innocent party and takes them by surprise. The attack is quick and to the point. She knocks out Luca and Orion fairly quickly, which is quite impressive.
I know I’m pretty fucking sick in the head, but when Francine charges Lorenzo and knocks him on his ass, I couldn’t think of anything better than rewarding her with my cock.
It’s not normal for security cameras to come with audio, but this one does.
“Hey, sug,” she says as she presses the dagger against his throat, and I see red when his hand shoots around her throat.
I’m going to fucking kill this prick.
I watch as she leans down, and, like a completely unhinged individual, she licks up the blood as it trails down his throat. My dick is a steel rod in my jeans. Holy fuck. Blood play has never been my forte but watching her lick up the drops has me wanting to slice open my chest so she’ll lick up each bead off of my own skin.
Lorenzo says nothing, and he doesn’t move an inch, even as she tries to entice him with her bright red lips, the stain smudged on her fair cheeks.
I force my gaze away, praying for the strength to watch the whole thing, to give her control over my punishment like she wanted, but then my attention is back on the video.
She fucking grinds down on him with a smile on her face to show how truly fucked up she is in the head. “Ohhh, someone is excited by a little violence and... spoiler alert, it’s not me.”
That’s a fucking lie. She gets off on violence, too. It took her weeks to admit that she got wetter than The Nile by slaughtering Martin the Pedo, and that’s why we nearly had sex that night.
“You’re one crazy bitch,” he rasps.
“You’ve got that right. I am very crazy, and I’m a bitch, but I don’t think this big boy has gotten the message. He seems very interested.” She kisses him and keeps doing it until he returns it and starts grinding back against her.
I know exactly what she’s doing. She’s seducing him the same way she has tried to do to me, but anytime she has, it ended with my cock down her tight, pleasuring throat and spanking her ass until it was covered in welts for days. It’s the same way she always challenged me until I took control.
She’s going after what she wants, and the image of him below her fades into the background. My focus is completely on my girl being a seductress.
“What’s your name?” she asks on a breath. His response is quick, and she smirks. Francine officially introduces herself and tries to enlist his assistance, but he’s hesitant.
“And if I refuse?”
What she says next sends me into a rage full of jealous energy that refuses to leave my veins. “Oh, Daddy, don’t do that,” she pouts. “I like you, and I’d hate to have to kill you. It’s just a small favor, and if you do it, I’ll make it worth your while.” She leans into his ear and whispers something so low I can’t hear what she says, but his reaction confirms that I probably don’t want to hear it.
“Take off your clothes then.”
I should turn off the video. I should silence it and put the phone face down so I don’t have to watch, but my eyes are stuck on her as she strips down until she is bare. She straddles his waist again and presses the knife back to his throat as he thrusts into her.
I nearly black out from desire as I see the pleasure on her face. She throws her head back, and though she doesn’t actually say anything, I see the single word she mouths to herself.
Finn.
It clicks like a bomb imploding. She’s fantasizing that the fucknut screwing her is me. Like that, my attention is solely on her face, her cherry pink nipples, and her bare cunt. I have no control as I rip down my zipper and pull out my cock, jerking it roughly to match her moves.
I’m fucking pissed as hell at her for the shit she pulled today, but I know all is not lost. She has given me enough to confirm that, and tomorrow, I’m getting my woman back.
Chapter Eighteen
Her
My phone rings several times with texts, phone calls, and Facebook notifications, but I completely ignore it. It doesn’t matter who it is. I just want to be alone.
I want to disappear into nothingness.
Duncan makes it better with his understanding and carefree nature, but this morning changed that. I still want us to be together, but if he wants us to wait until I’m over Finn... well, you know where that goes.
The color drains from my world when he’s not around, and now darkness is stealing away the gray and white tints of the world, engulfing me in total blackness.
***
I stayed in bed the rest of Sunday, and I doubt my mom even noticed my absence. She's dealing with her own issues.
I drive to school and walk inside, not even trying to plaster on a fake smile. What's the point? I'm dying on the inside.
"Hey, are you okay?" Duncan comes over to me as I reach my locker. "I tried calling you yesterday."
I toss my bag in my locker and pull out one binder, hugging it to my chest.
"Francine? Hey, talk to me. What's wrong?" He presses for me to give him something, but I don't even have the energy to open my mouth.
Even with Duncan standing here, the darkness is creeping up on me.
"Franny, what's wrong?" he pushes again, but I still can't force myself to speak.
The bullshit with Finn Friday night, then Duncan rejecting me yesterday, has strained my very soul.
"Nothing," I force the single word past my lips. It takes so much energy to do it my head starts to spin. The only thing my eyes can focus on is seeing Finn down the hall, staring back at me.
I realize he's not just staring at me, but he's charging over here like a man on a mission.
Then I lose all feeling as my body gives out, and I feel my head crash against the ground. The darkness takes me captive once again, but I hear a parade of voices yelling for me.
Only one sticks out amongst the crowd.
"Come on, babygirl. You have to wake up. Open your eyes, and everything will be okay. Francine, please." Finn sounds just as broken as I feel, and a part of me wants to hug him and tell him not to worry. "You can do it, babygirl. Let me see your beautiful green eyes."
Oh, Finn.
I don't want to open my eyes, though. I want to stay locked in my prison of darkness. Here, no one can hurt me. Here, I'm safe from how unloved I feel and how insignificant my existence seems to those who matter most to me.
I eventually open my eyes when I hear a soft whistle after everything has gone quiet. The lights are blinding, but I'm not on the floor anymore. No, I'm lying in a bed, and a constant beeping annoys me.
I'm connected to I.V. tubes and a heart monitor. What the fuck did they do to me?
Am I in a hospital?
I yank the stickers from my chest, groaning as they rip out tiny hairs and leave a rash on my skin.
"Uh-uh. Don't even think about it, Princess," Finn growls as he stands up from the chair beside me.
I didn't even notice him there.
"What the hell are you doing here?" I sneer at him. "Why the fuck am I in the hospital?"
"Chill out, Annie Cresta," he taunts. "You fainted at school and banged up your head pretty bad. The doctors are worried about a concussion," he says as he grabs one of the stickers I ripped off my chest and puts it back on.
"I don't have a fucking concussion." I'm perfectly fine, physically, anyway. I don't need a hospital or I.V.'s. I just need everyone to leave me the fuck alone. "What the fuck are you doing here?" I say again.
"I'm making sure you don't go all psycho on the doctors and nurses for doing their jobs like you did on my bike or Donatello’s club. Nice handiwork, by the way," he says with a playful smirk on his face.
"Fuck you," I growl at him.
Suddenly, he leans over me and presses my arms against the bed.
"Listen to me, Princess. Either you're going to sit here and let the doctors do what they need to, or I'm going to bend you over the side of this bed and fuck you until you can't feel your body anymore. Which is it going to be?" he demands possessively.
Fuck.
Why does he do this shit to me?
Why does he keep sending me all these mixed signals? One minute, he's fire hot, and the next, he's glacier cold.
"Neither. You can go fuck yourself, but you sure as hell are not fucking me," I hiss while scowling at him.
I. Do. Not. Yield.
"Is that so? You were begging me to fuck you on Saturday, saying you needed my cock. You were starving for it," he says, desire clear in his eyes.
"Delusional as ever. Did the number I did on your bike not send a clear enough message? I want nothing to do with a narcissistic asshole like you."
"Your eyes tell a different story, babygirl," he grumbles as he runs his tongue over my bottom lip. "Your eyes say you want me to kiss you."
I snap my teeth at him, barely missing his tongue as it retreats. "Then, you're blind."
How the fuck can he read me so well?
When he's not around, I'm strong. I can say screw Finn and be a strong, independent woman. When he's here, all of that goes out the window. Did my message from Donatello and Lorenzo not scream loudly enough? He either needs to completely dedicate himself to me or stay out of my presence. This is neither of those things. It takes every ounce of willpower I have not to kiss him.
No wonder Duncan rejected me. I'm stuck on Finn, no matter how much I don't want to be.
"I know you want me to kiss you, Princess. Just like I know, as soon as you left my house, when I didn't fuck you, you went to Malloy's house and let him taste what's mine," he growls.
My thoughts freeze, stunned.
Did Finn just say he knows I had sex with Duncan?
"How would you know that?" I ask, caught off guard.
"Because I keep a close eye on you. I always know where you are, what you're doing, and who you're with. You keep forgetting, baby, that I'm a psycho. I don't live by the same boundaries as everyone else. I want something, and I take it. Once something is mine, I never let it go. I don’t play well with others, and you do well to remember that, babygirl.”
I should be appalled by this news. This is an admission of stalking, but it's still Finn. I've always known he's crazy, just like I am. It doesn't change that he's still the man I fell in love with.
"You can't claim I'm yours when you tossed me away," I fight a different point.
He smirks at me with such demented desire. It makes me shiver.
"After how thoroughly I claimed every inch of your body, you can't wash away my claim on you that easily."
I don't have a chance to come up with some rebuttal.
The door opens, and an older doctor steps in wearing a lab coat.
"Hello, Ms. Gray. I'm Dr. Harvey," he says before Finn moves away from me, sitting back down in his chair.
"When can I get out of here?" I ask. "I have classes I need to get back to."
"Our only concern is how hard you hit your head, so let's check it out," the doctor says before walking over to me and pulling out his mini flashlight. He orders me to follow the light, then checks my pupils with it, which burns like a bitch. "Okay, sweetheart. Looks like you don't have a concussion. That’s fantastic news. The last thing you need in your condition is to tack something else on, am I right?"
He's either a quack, or something is going on that I'm completely oblivious to.
"Your fainting spells seem to just be a side effect," he adds.
I stare at him, unsure what he's talking about.
"What condition?"
"Oh," he says, looking at me curiously. "My apologies, but we were under the impression you already knew. Your sister said you already knew," he continues.
