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“What? I just had brunch with your mother,” she said, confused.
“I don’t know how much clearer I can make this. You are in danger. There are bad people who want to hurt us because of our last names. I swore to our families I would keep you safe. I am going to uphold that promise, whether or not you like it.”
“Who are these so-called bad people,and why do they want to hurt us? None of this makes sense. In order from most to least important, I’m the least valuable member of my family.”
“No, Francesca,youare the most important member of your family.”
She was beginning to think the youngest member of the O’Brien family was one marble short of a full bag. He was making absolutely zero sense. Maybe the best course of action was to play along until the opportunity presented itself to either escape or call home and have her father send someone to come get her.
“Okay, okay!” She threw her hands up in a surrender motion. “I give up. I really have to go to the bathroom, Shane.”
“The gas is finished pumping. Let me hang it up, then I’ll walk you in.”
Frankie looked around the small gas station, a quiet building. He probably picked this one, the farthest one off of the interstate, on purpose. “Why don’t you grab us some drinks while I use the bathroom?” she suggested.
“I’ll stay with you.”
“You know you can’t go into the women’s bathroom, right?”
“I’m well aware of societal protocol.”
It didn’t stop him from knocking on the bathroom door and when no one answered, walking in.
“Anyone in here?”
“Are you kidding me?” Frankie sidestepped past him. There were four stalls, and all of them were empty, much to her despair. She had been hoping to borrow a cell phone.
“I’ll be right outside. Don’t take too long.”
Finally, she had a moment of privacy. There were no windows in the bathroom, so any idea of escaping was shattered. She did have to relieve herself, that part hadn’t been a lie. Staring in the mirror after, she was shocked to see the amount of dirt on her face, smudged with just the right amount of sweat. Pulling paper towels out of the dispenser, she worked to clean up. Her professional makeup was remarkably untouched underneath the dirt. Apparently, whatever they had used was the good stuff.
The door opened, and a lady walked in, Shane right on her heels.
“Shane!” she hissed.
“Are you about done?”
“Yes, I’ll be right out.”
“Now.”
“I’m coming, just a second.”
He sighed heavily but backed out.
“Are you okay?” The lady looked at her worriedly.
“Can I use your phone? I don’t have a lot of time.”
“Yes, of course, dear. Do you need to call 911?”
“No, I’m going to call my dad.”
“Sure, sweetheart. You can go into that stall, and I won’t let him in.”
“I don’t think that will be necessary.” Frankie took the outstretched cell phone and punched in her dad’s number. It went straight to voicemail, so she called her mom. Voicemail. Emilia’s number rang and rang before cutting off. She was about to try Angelique’s number when the knock came at the door again.
“Francesca.” The warning in his tone sent chills up her spine. She handed the phone back to the lady.
