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The old guy stands, and Frankie looks scared. My eyes flick between the two of them as I make my way over to Frankie and stand next to her in the kitchen. I pull her to me and kiss her cheek, leaving my hand around her waist. It is a possessive move, but I want to make my claim plain to see. I am not backing down, no matter what is going on.
“This is Alf,” Frankie says with a pause, “my godfather,” she finishes, and I am relieved to be meeting someone from her family because perhaps they can help me understand what is going on.
Alf glares at me, so I stand tall and reach out my hand to shake his. “Marco Marshall, nice to see you again, sir,” I say, because I want to show respect. Alf doesn’t say anything in return, and I begin to wonder if he is going to ignore my outstretched arm, but he gives me a small nod, and shakes my hand before he sits back down again and takes a sip of his coffee that Frankie put before him just moments ago.
“Would you like a coffee?” Frankie asks, totally ignoring the elephant in the room, and I nod, still looking between her and Alf, wondering what conversation I interrupted when I walked in. Frankie passes me a mug, and I take it, grateful for the energy hit that I desperately need this morning. She has the best coffee, the proper Italian kind that smells amazing, ideal for waking me up.
“You shouldn’t be here,” Alf finally says, his statement directed at me but he is not looking at me as he says it. Instead, he takes another sip of his coffee, staring straight ahead, not making eye contact with me at all. His accent is strong, clearly Italian, and for an older guy, he looks pretty menacing.
“Padrino,” Frankie says, in a resigned sigh, rubbing her face, clearly exhausted from the week already. I rub her back, silently trying to tell her that I am not going anywhere. I want to be here with her, supporting her, with whatever this is she is going through.
Alf stands. “He will arrive on Saturday. Be prepared because he is not going to be happy,” he says to Frankie as he steps away from the bench. He looks at me, gives me a nod, and I see a hint of respect in his eyes. Looking back to Frankie, he continues, “You can’t leave here. Stay inside until Saturday and then come to the bar and do the evening shift.”
I’m not sure why Frankie needs to stay indoors, and I find myself more confused than ever. I don’t like that he is dictating to her what she should be doing, and I really wish she would just tell me what is going on.
“Okay, no problem. I will stay indoors, out of sight until then,” Frankie says as she walks to Alf and gives him a hug which he returns, and I see his features soften. It is clear they have respect and adoration for each other; it is nice to see.
Alf looks at me. “Lay low,” he grumbles before he turns and makes his way to the door. Frankie follows him, and once he leaves, she locks it and turns to face me.
“Breakfast?” she asks cheerfully as if there is nothing else we need to discuss. She starts walking back toward me and into the kitchen. “I make a great omelet!” she continues, and as she comes closer to me, I put my hands out and stop her. I grab her by the waist and take her lips in mine, in a short, soulful kiss.
Pulling back slightly, our noses nearly touching, I run my eyes over her face trying to capture what it is she is feeling. I know she is frightened. “I think we need to talk, baby,” I say, and I feel her stiffen in my arms. “You don't have to tell me everything because I know you can’t or you don't want to, but there is clearly something going on and you need to give me something. I can’t help you or support you if I don’t know what the problem is.”
I’m confident that my money and connections will be able to sort out whatever issue she is having. I know a lot of people, and being part of one of the wealthiest families in America, it puts me in a position of privilege. I can make anything happen. And I will do it for Frankie. I will do anything for her.
She lets her head fall forward slightly so our foreheads are touching, and she nods ever so slightly. “Come on,” I say and pull her with me as we walk to the living area to sit on the sofa. I am ready for her to lay it all out for me, so once we are sitting, I face her. I want our body language to be open with each other; no more hiding.
“Okay, I want to make this easy for you, so I will ask questions and you can answer the ones you want to or pass on the ones you don’t.” I take both her hands in mine, our bodies facing each other, open, no secrets, no walls between us. I am ready to hear it all.
“Are you in danger?” I ask.
“Yes,” she replies confidently, which I am both happy about because she is responding to me, but also immensely concerned about.
“Are you in serious danger? Is somebody trying to harm you?”
“Yes,” she replies again, confident in her answer. My stomach curls and my heart starts to race. My eyes search her face frantically, wondering who would ever want to hurt someone like Frankie.
“Who is trying to hurt you?”
“Pass.”
“Do they know where you are?” I ask, because if I need to get security surrounding her place, I will have it done in less than an hour. I am sure Jake has connections into the Feds, so we can have them here today as well.
“No, they don’t. Only four people know where I am. You are one of those four.”
“So, is that why you were so upset at the photos? Because they may publicize your location?” Things are starting to make a little more sense now. A few more puzzle pieces are coming together.
“Yes. I can’t be seen, Marco. We can’t go out, we can’t date like a normal couple, at least not at this moment. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have dragged you into this mess. I am so, so sorry.” Her words are full of sorrow and all rushing out together as her eyes well up and she drops her head.
I lean across and grab her hips, and in one quick movement, I pick her up and place her onto my lap. I hold her to me tightly, securely, I never want to let her go.
“Everything will be okay, baby, we will work it out,” I tell her softly.
Even though I now know a little more than I did yesterday, I am not sure that everything will be all right, and for the first time, I am starting to feel like whatever Frankie is mixed up in, must be big.
15
Frankie
