Frankie’s head shook, “But he’s out there. He’s watching me.”
The chief’s jaw flexed, “Not for long, Elliot was right last night when he said people don’t come into my town and fuck with my people,” Then his tone gentled, “We’ll increase patrols near the rink and by the cabin. You’re not alone in this anymore. I’ll get to the bottom of it, Frankie. I promise you that.”
She clutched my hand with her trembling one, holding on like I was a lifeline as Travis kissed her temple, tucking her into his side, the three of us locked together with fresh hope burning inside of us.
The Sheriff madeit sound easy. A quick signature, some paperwork and formality shit.
Custody papers. Then I would finally get what I deserved, what had been mine all along.
Her kids.
And with them, Frankie.
She could fight, cry, scream all she wanted, but once I had the kids in my hands again, she’d come crawling back. She’d have no choice.
The thought lit me up from the inside, that familiar rush, that power burned, and I was jumpy with excitement. I’d been patient, careful, biding my time. Now, it was all falling into place.
I could almost taste the high I’d get when I pushed into her writhing body again for the first time in almost five years.
Five years without my favorite little fuck doll to play with.
My dick hardened even just thinking about it as I stood at the gas pump, filling my truck to make sure I had everything in place to get the fuck out of this hellhole the moment she was back with me.
I wasn’t going to stick around long enough for the dumb and dumber twins to convince her to fight me in the long game for the kids.
I didn’t have the patience for that; I’d snap and shoot them between the eyes.
Which would complicate things, but I wasn’t against the idea altogether.
They’d get what was coming to them eventually, after I got Frankie locked away and secure.
“Did you hear the big news,” A voice said from the other side of the pump as a woman got out of her car, talking on her phone a mile a minute.
Small towns made my skin crawl, and she was a perfect reason why.
“No,” She went on, popping her gum like a teenage cheerleader, and I rolled my eyes as I leaned back against the truck, watching the numbers rolling on the pump roll even slower as she started pumping her own gas.
Cunt.
“The shitshow that Frankie Blake’s life turned out to be!” She hissed.
My ears sharpened at the sound of Frankie’s name.
Now that—that was a story I could get behind gossiping about.
“I know! The whole town’s buzzing about the rink the other night, but get this—the Chief found creepy shit in her house. Cameras. Like stalker-level stuff! That loser she dated back in high school? Turns out he’s been messing with her the whole time. Wanda said her husband, who works as a cleaner down at the station, told her they tricked him into coming in and they’re planning to nail him.”
My blood ran cold as my heart rate lowered, thumping forcefully in my chest the way it always did right before I snapped and lost control.
“That’s what he gets,” the woman said. “Coming around and screwing with her like that. Shame she wasted her good years on him, but at least she’s finally got herself a real man like Travis now to make up for all that lost time.”
The woman giggled, the noise like nails on a chalkboard as I stared down at the nozzle in my hand. She kept going.
“Well, two men. God, that Elliot—mmh, in that fire gear? I’d set a garbage can on fire just to get him to my place one night.” She chuckled, still running her mouth. “And to think Frankie’s the one underneath both of them each night. Way better than that scrawny skater boy her ex was.”
Scrawny. She was talking about me.
My knuckles whitened around the nozzle, fury and something darker twisting hot in my gut.
