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I blink the tears out of my eyes, making my decision. “I bought apple crisp tarts today. Can we go home and talk over coffee?”
Hammer
The ride back to Francesca’s place feels longer than it should, but if she’s ready to talk, then I’m going to get us the hell home as fast as I can. In the diner, I saw her holding back the tears. I don’t know what Millie said to her, yet I’m grateful because she made a difference. It’s like a light switch has been flipped on, and I’m not going to wait for it to turn off again.
I sit on the couch waiting for her to start speaking, but Francesca is pacing back and forth, wringing her hands and occasionally glancing at me, clearly stuck on how to start.
On her umpteenth time walking past me, I give her hand a tug, catching her as she drops down next to me. “Babe, you’re making me dizzy. Whatever you’re thinking is probably a lot worse in your own head than it really is. Let’s get past this, then we can enjoy apple crisp tarts and coffee.”
“My mom loved my dad. He died when I was just a baby, and she was lost without him. Obviously, I was too young to remember that, but my grandmother told me when I got older, when I was questioning my mother’s choice to marry Jessop. Jessop saw a vulnerable, sad, lonely woman and said and did all the right things. He wooed her, and my mother really laughed, and I mean a real guttural laugh like she was truly happy. I didn’t like or dislike Jessop, but I didn’t have a choice in the matter anyhow, so I kept quiet. For a while, they were happy. Mom’s family is very, and I mean very, wealthy. Jessop spent money like it was water, but Mom didn’t seem to mind, and again, I ignored it.” She pauses and looks at me like she’s waiting for me to say something.
“Okay. I’m with you. You were a kid. There was nothing you could do.”
She lets out a heavy breath. “I wasn’t always a kid. When I was in high school, I was into myself and my friends. It wasn’t until I was in college that Mom got sick, and that’s when it all started falling apart. Jessop began to miss going to parties and hobnobbing with the rich and famous. He decided that just because Mom couldn’t go, that didn’t mean he had to stay home too. He went without her. He showed his true colors.”
“What a dick!”
“That became apparent. I heard through the grapevine that Jessop told people that Mom insisted he go out because he needed a break from taking care of her in her delicate state. Total rubbish!” she says. “My grandparents, the nurses we hired, and me… We were the ones who took care of Mom. Jessop barely even came to see her. He said it was too painful to see her that way. Then I found out he was seeing another woman. Younger, much younger, and all this time, Mom was dying.” She jumps to her feet, clasping her hands as she walks toward the large window that looks out over the vastness of the land surrounding the property.
“Frankie.”
“Give me a minute,” she whispers. I wait patiently for her to go on. “After Mom died, I went to live with my grandparents.” She spins around to face me. “He let my mother die thinking he didn’t care, and I ignored it. He was sleeping and carrying on with another woman, and I ignored him. I went even further and for the sake of”—she lifts her fingers to do the air quote thing—“‘what are people going to say.’ I pretended to be a good stepdaughter and visited on his birthday and special occasions. I even had lunch with the bastard,” she says vehemently, chastising herself. “Mom left him a lump sum of money, but everything else came to me. When Jessop’s money dried up, he approached the people from the Deleigh stakeholders list and scammed them into investing in a bogus business. Jessop tried to draw the Deleigh corporations into the mix. He had fraudulent documents stating that Deleigh sanctioned his new investment venture.”
I’m doing my best to keep my cool, but watching Francesca unravel before me is pushing me to my limit. I start to get up to go to her, but Francesca lifts a hand to stop me.
“Let me get it all out,” she murmurs. “The media had a field day. Our family name was dragged through the mud. It destroyed my grandparents. We were persona non grata at all the social functions. People who were friends became enemies or sold their story to the press for a quick payday. The worst part is that our companies suffered and the thousands of people we employ were in peril of losing their livelihoods. When my grandparents died, I decided to take a backseat and let the CEOs and board run the day-to-day. I still ultimately own the companies and have majority shares, but fading into the background did wonders for our stock making a comeback.” She goes quiet. Eerily quiet. “I let Jessop tear my family apart, and I did nothing. He’s living in Moldova with his new, young, fake-boobed wife where the courts can’t touch him, and I can’t show my face for fear the whispers will start all over again.”
She stays perfectly still, staring at me helplessly. Her expression is dejected, her lower lip quivering, like she’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. The moonlight streams in through the curtains, creating a ring of light around her, like a halo circling an angel, illuminating her open heart.
“Can I come to you now?” My own voice is rough with emotion. Anger, frustration, and sadness all mix together, leaving me in a volatile state where half of me wants to rush out of here and find Jessop to tear him apart. The other half wants to wrap Francesca in my arms and make her feel safe. I go with my second choice. Francesca comes first.
Without waiting for her response, I go to her. As I envelop her in my arms, she lets out a whimper. “I’ve got you, baby.” Francesca leans into me, slumping against me, defeated and drained. I take a long, deep breath and mentally count to ten slowly. “Nothing you told me scares me. Not a damn thing.”
“This isn’t just about you. Reporters dig and dig. They strip away every layer, like stripping flesh off your bones until there’s nothing left. They won’t just attack me or you, they’ll latch on to Izzy. That leads to Saint and your club. They’ll go after your brothers, digging up dirt wherever they can find it. How will your friends feel about me then? They’ll hate me for bringing them into it.”
“Satan’s Pride doesn’t run from a fight.”
“Ava, Vi, all those wonderful women in the Lady Pride will be fair game. It isn’t fair to put them in that position. The worst part is that I really like them, and I think they like me. Me!” She drops her head onto my chest. “I have to let them go,” she says quietly.
“Frankie, I know you think you’re doing the right thing here, but do you think any of those women are going to let a good woman continue to be beaten down for something she had no control over? Nah, baby. You’re done fighting this alone.”
“I could have?—”
“What? What could you have done?” I pull back to look at her. “You were a kid. A child. It’s not your job to take care of the adults who should be caring for you. Your mother was dying. The attention was where it should have been, on your mother. Unless you have psychic abilities that you haven’t told me about, how were you to know what Jessop was up to?”
“I don’t know.” She shakes her head.
“The Lady Pride deserve to know what’s happening. Choice is a beautiful thing. Give them the facts and let them make up their own minds,” I suggest.
“I have to admit that telling you has lifted a great weight off my chest,” she replies. We move over to the sofa. Francesca drops her head back against the cushion and closes her eyes.
“Thank you,” I say. She lifts her lids, her expression confused. “For telling me the whole story.”
“It’s ugly,” she murmurs.
“It’s the truth, and sometimes, the truth can be ugly. But it’s also real, and I can deal with real,” I say.
NINE
