Not for hours.
Not even by sunrise.
Just after seven, she came out of the same door they all disappeared into last night. Her hair was tied up on top of her head, and she wore a baggy hoodie over a pair of sweatpants that weren’t hers.
She looked smug. Like someone who’d just had the best night of her life. The two half-wit hockey players followed her back down to the truck. One of them kissed her neck while the other one slapped her ass.
And she smiled—at both of them.
She never fucking smiled at anyone.
They all got back into the truck and pulled out like she hadn’t just shattered the last thread of dignity I’d let her keep.
That’s when I knew.
She was never going to do the right thing.
She was never going to stop being a fucking whore.
So now?
Now I had to fix it for her.
I’d been patient.
I gave her space. Time.
But she wanted to make a spectacle of herself? She wanted to be shared like a toy?
Then she’d learn what it felt like to be broken and thrown away for real.
She was mine first.
And I wasn’t going to let her forget it.
I layin the tiny single bed at the fire station, staring at the dark ceiling. It was the same thing I’d been doing for the last hour, even though I should have been sleeping. Monday nights were notoriously slow for our station, like it was the world’s way of giving us all a break after a chaotic weekend.
I was the lieutenant on staff for the shift, which meant I got the single room, avoiding the common bunkhouse, but part ofme actually wished for the familiar noise and awful smells of that compared to the solitude.
With nothing around distracting me, I couldn’t help but think of Frankie.
Of our perfect night together on Saturday. Of how right it had felt to share her with Travis. Of how much I fucking missed her since then.
She had her kids, and Travis had work, and now it was my turn to work, and it all just felt—meaningless somehow.
Nothing else mattered but her.
And in turn, Trav. God, I was fucked in my head over the whole thing.
I was flat on my back in the dark, one arm under my head and the other still curled around my phone. I’d just finished reading Frankie’s goodnight text for the fifth time when it lit up again.
Incoming Call: Frankie <3
I didn’t hesitate. “Hey,” I answered, voice low.
There was silence on the other end for a beat, then a breath. And something in me tightened.
“Are you okay?” I asked, sitting up slightly.
