AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I folded a corner of the sub’s wrapper over, fidgeting with the crinkling paper as I worked up my courage. I could tell her more of the truth without telling her the whole truth. “Rissa and I aren’t exactly orphans like we said.”
Frankie chuckled and reached for an apple. “Runaways, huh? I figured it was somethin’ like that.”
I nodded. “Our father is, uh, controlling. To the extreme. It wasn’t a good environment for either of us.”
Her intense brown gaze considered me for a moment. “So, what? You worried he’ll find you here if you fight?” She bit into the apple with a loud crunch.
I blinked. Geez, she was good. “Yes, exactly.”
“I get that,” she said between chews. “My own pops was a real asshole, beat me senseless any chance he got. But you’re adults now. He can’t touch you.”
Except our father most definitely could. A princess’s life was never her own. “Age doesn’t matter in my family.”
Finished with his meal—or at least as much as he could fit into his tiny stomach—Finley waddled over to the edge of the desk. He blinked his pale blue eyes until I offered him my palm, which he used to climb my arm to my shoulder. Tucking his tail around my neck, he curled up and yawned.
Frankie bit into the apple with another crunch and juice ran down her chin. She swiped her forearm across her chin. “I can protect you. Both of you, you know that, especially once this debt is paid off. We got friends in low places.” She winked.
I couldn’t help but smile. That we did. The type of fighting we did here was outlawed for a reason—no rules other than to keep it in the ring. Oh, and try not to kill each other, though accidents did happen.
Frankie might be able to keep us from ending up in jail, but unfortunately, she couldn’t protect us from our father. No one could.
My stomach rumbled as hunger returned with a vengeance.
Frankie nudged the tuna sub back toward me. “Fine. No fight. I need your brains then.”
Picking up the sandwich, I drew my eyebrows together in confusion. Surely, she couldn’t mean…
She groaned at the look on my face. “Not literally, you nerd. First the pickle, now the brain. Lord, help me. I need your help comin’ up with some ideas. Fundraisers, that sorta thing.”
Oh. Duh. That made way more sense than a lobotomy.
“What if we held a charity auction?” I suggested, trying to think outside the shell. “We could ask local businesses to donate items or services and then sell them off to the highest bidder.”
Frankie shook her head. “Tried that a few years back, remember? It didn’t bring in nearly enough money. Also, it ended up causin’ trouble when some of the hot-headed bidders didn’t win the items they wanted.”
“Right, bad idea.” I crossed it off my mental list and took a bite of my sandwich, chewing as I thought. “How about hosting a talent show? People could pay to enter, and the audience would vote for their favorite act with donations.”
“Too many permits and too much organization needed for that,” she said, her voice heavy with skepticism.
My phone buzzed, and I glanced at the screen. Marissa sent a text to say she had a makeup class in the evening, so she couldn’t clean for me today either. I groaned.
Yet again, she was getting away with not living up to her side of the bargain. She knew she could hold her classes over my head, at least until school was over and she officially had her massage therapy license.
“Marissa may be better at this brainstorming thing than I am, she—” I paused as an idea came to me. An amazing idea that would make an evil genius proud. “Actually, Marissa would be perfect.”
“You mean if she were ever here long enough to ask for ideas. I suppose kids her age just chat on one of their electronic dohickeys, right?” She barked out a laugh. “Listen to me. Do I sound old or what?” Her face sobered. “I didn’t use to be this old, Gabs.”
She was the only person in this world I would let call me that. Ever. Anyone else would feel my wrath via a book thrown at their head. A big, heavy, hardcover one, too.
“I meant I have an idea that might just save the gym.” I took another bite of the tuna, chewing and swallowing quickly as my excitement built. “What if we offered massages to fighters and members right here in the gym? We could raise funds without drawing too much attention to ourselves, and Marissa could be the masseuse as payback for not cleaning like she said she would.”
The more I thought about this idea, the more I liked it. If it was successful enough, it could turn into a long-term way of generating extra income for Subliminal. I’d keep that tidbit to myself for now, just in case it wasn’t successful. No sense in getting both our hopes up.
“Since when did you become so devious?” Frankie arched a brow, amused skepticism etched into her weathered features. “You think people would pay for massages in a place like this? We’re not exactly set up for a relaxin’ experience.”
“Oh, it’ll work,” I said eagerly. “We can create posters and flyers to advertise the service, and even offer discounts or package deals to attract new clients outside of gym members. It’ll help pay off the debt, and I’m sure word of mouth will spread quickly.”
Frankie stared at the wall, her eyes unfocused as she considered the idea. “It’s unconventional, but I guess it could work. We’d need to invest in some basic supplies and equipment though. I’m not sure if we can manage it, especially with the current debt.”
