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As he lay back against the pillows, exhaustion etched deeper lines on his already worn face. “Lucky punch,” he said.
“You promised me,” I said. “You promised me you’d never fight again. The doctor warned you what would happen.” My volume went up even though I tried everything to keep my voice calm. “You fucking promised!”
Frankie’s gaze dropped, a silent acknowledgment of guilt. His hand twitched in mine, a feeble attempt to pull away, but I held fast, unwilling to let go just yet.
“I know,” he whispered after a long pause, his words heavy with remorse.
His gaze locked onto mine with an intensity that had once been reserved for our most intimate moments. Those eyes had not lost their fire despite his pallor. “I have one goal in life. Protecting you. Watching over you. And when I felt that Bones?—”
“Enough!” I snapped. “I’m so tired of the two of you fighting. It’s getting old.”
“I don’t trust him.”
“Well I do. And you trust me. That should be enough.”
Frankie’s jaw clenched, and for a moment, I thought he might argue, but then the fight drained out of him, a weariness in his eyes that went beyond the physical. He nodded slowly, conceding.
“I know,” he said, his voice softened by the pain evident in the furrows of his brow. “It’s just... hard to shake old habits. Especially when they’re about keeping you safe.”
I wanted to scream at him, to tell him that his ‘old habits’ were going to land him in an early grave. But as I looked at him—really looked at him, I saw something else that stopped me. Beneath the façade of the fighter, there was fear. It clung to him like a second skin, cold and unyielding.
“Listen to me,” I whispered as I leaned in closer. “Your way of protecting me isn’t working. It never did. You’ve got to find another way because this”—I motioned around the sterile hospital room—“isn’t it.”
He swallowed hard and looked away from me for a moment, his eyes filled with a new resolve. “I’ll find another way,” he promised.
“Good, because you aren’t going to be lucky enough to die next time. Your luck will be ending up in a fucking diaper needing me to wipe the drool off your chin.”
He chuckled. “Well at least you’re in this future vision.”
“I am,” I said softly. “That’s the thing you need to realize. I’m not going anywhere. But I need to make sure you aren’t going anywhere either.”
“I’m not. I promised your dad.”
“And you promised me, Frankie. You swore you’d be by my side.”
“And I meant it. You’re everything to me, Ari. I know I have a shitty way of showing it sometimes, and I know I can be a real prick. But I’d throw myself down on the sword for you.”
“I know. But you made a promise. You swore you’d give up fighting, and I expect you to keep your word on both.” I stood up and looked down at him. “Get some rest. Doctor says you have to stay the night. I’m going to go close and lock the gym, and then I’ll be back.”
“I’ll be here,” Frankie mumbled as his eyelids began to droop.
I stepped out of the room and into the stark, white corridor. Bones and Lotto were both waiting outside the door, anxiety written on their faces.
Bones was the first to speak, his voice gruff with concern. “How is he? The nurse told us he’s awake.”
I nodded, not trusting my voice as I tried to settle the storm of emotions within me. “Another blow to the head, and he may not be so lucky.”
“I’m sorry,” Bones said. “I had no idea or I?—”
My frustration had me cutting him off with a raised hand. “Whatever battle of dicks you all have going on needs to stop. You’re putting me in a position of having to choose. It’s not fucking fair. Don’t make that happen.”
Bones shifted uneasily, the weight of my words sinking in. Lotto, usually the more vocal and wiser of the two, remained uncharacteristically silent. His eyes, though, were fixed on me with an intensity that spoke volumes.
“He needs to stop attacking me like he’s got something to prove,” Bones said.
“And you need to stop provoking,” I shot back. “I mean it, Bones. Enough is enough.”
“I’m sorry. I snapped. He suspended me from Heathens Hollow?—”
“Yeah, well that isn’t going to happen. You’re fighting, you’re winning, and we’re all going to pretend today didn’t even happen.”
He nodded solemnly, a tinge of regret muddling his stoic façade. Lotto put a hand on Bones’ shoulder—a quiet gesture of solidarity.
“No more fights,” Lotto chimed in. “Not between any of us. You have our word.”
I studied them both for a moment longer, searching their faces for any sign of defiance or false promises. Finding none, I allowed the tightness in my chest to ease just slightly.
