A man sits in a hotel room on the couch hands behind his head. His green eyes are mesmerized by the sight before. Just as his guest of honor starts to shed his clothes a knock on the door interrupts him.
"Who the fuck is it!" he yells.
"Room service," a sweet voice replies.
"I didn't order no room service," the man answers.
"It's complimentary on the house for VIP guests," the voice replies quickly.
As the man gets off the couch and heads for the door. The balcony to the room quietly slides open. They were on the first level, so it wasn't much for the figure clad in all black to get in.
A Korean woman enters the room, pushing a crate of food and beverages.
The man closes the door and turns around to see two large guns pointed in his face. The assailant holding the guns has on a full-face mask with nothing showing except their menacing Emerald colored eyes, filled with anger.
The assailant doesn't speak, instead one of their hands raises and cracks the man upside the head...hard, causing him to collapse on the floor.
The assailant motions with one gun for the Korean woman to exit the room through the opened balcony as she clings to the man's companion.
Once they were out of sight. The assailant finally speaks, "So, you like fuckin kids?" The voice rasped.
The man tries to slide back toward the door, but he isn't fast enough as the assailant's booted foot, steps on his hand, crushing it.
"Aahhh...fuck...please!" The man begs raising his free.
"Is that how those kids you raped begged?" The voice snaps.
"I...I…" the man stutters.
"No need to explain yourself to me, Norman. Save it for the devil."
With that said the assailant raises both guns with extended clips and silencers and fills his face and torso full of holes.
The assailant pulls out a burner phone, snaps a picture of the dead man and sends a text.
//: It's done! The bub is safe!
Franky enters her flat, she removes the black leather jacket, tosses it on the couch. Then steps out of her boots and sets them neatly against the wall. She walks back over to the kitchen, grabs the photos off the counter and stands at the sink setting it ablaze with a chef's torch.
Once the photos are ash, she rinses the sink out and turns on the garbage disposal. She enters her bedroom, turns on the light, flops down on the bed and reaches for her cell phone. Seeing that she has several missed calls. She strolls through her messages and only sees one that sparks her interest.
"I see you got my message," the voice says through the phone. She’d picked on the first ring when Franky called.
"I need to work off some steam. How soon can you get here?" Franky asks.
"Just wrapping up a job. I can be there in thirty."
"Perfect, see ya then."
Franky ends the call, heads to her bathroom, and removes the rest of her clothes. As she removes her t-shirt, she notices a dark, crimson colored spot on it. She only needs to sniff it once to recognize the copper smell of her latest target’s blood.
She stares at her reflection in the mirror. Those menacing green eyes glare back at her. She holds the sink with both hands as her mum's voice rang out in her head.
"You're worthless. No one wants you. You'll never be anything but a useless waste. You disgust me…"
Franky blinks to fight the tears threatening to form in her eyes. She shuts her eyes and shakes it off as visions try to flood her psyche.
"I disgust myself, too," she mumbles then heads for the shower.
As the water pours over her head, she reminisces about how she managed to get caught up in the life she's in now.
Rain pours, the wind blows, and the air is crisp.
"Fuck," Franky curses herself for running away from her third foster in the past seven months.
She finds herself in front of Craig's pool hall where she hung out a lot. As soon as she enters Craig notices her strolling in like a wet puppy and rushes to find her a towel.
He approaches her with a new, clean, and dry dish towel. "Another one bites the dust?" Craig jokes handing her the towel. Franky nods as she takes it. "What happened this time?"
"Foster brother tried to kiss me. I punched him and they got mad and starved me. I ain't ate in two days," Franky confesses. "When the foster bitch tried to make me clean up the whole house while everyone else ate pizza and watched the telly I split."
Craig exhales deeply. He'd known this skinny, dark-haired, emerald eyed resilient, kind, yet slightly stubborn kid since she was fourteen. What he loved about her the most was her determination to not let her present situations keep her down. He'd made sure she ate, had a place to sleep and clean clothes plenty of times.
"Why didn't you come here? You know you're always welcomed even if I'm not here. The staff have been briefed on how important you are to me," Craig says.
"Why is that? I never asked that before, but I've always been curious," Franky admits.
"Cause that first day I found you outside staring through my window dying to come in. I knew no one had been looking out for you. You needed someone to step up and take that role," Craig explains. "And there was something different about you." The truth was Craig had been Franky's mum first love. When she spiraled out of control and got involved with the drugs and alcohol, he felt like he failed her. He'd always wanted to make amends. The first time he saw Franky he knew she was Rose and Alan's kid. Then finding out she was a ward of the state. He vowed at that moment to look after her always.
"And all this time I thought you were just taking pity on me," Franky says.
"Nah...never. In fact, I have a job for you if you're interested. You will be ridding the country of waste and making way more than the minimum," Craig says.
"I'll take it!" Franky says excited.
"You don't even know what it is," Craig reminds.
"Don't matter if it gets me off the street on cold, rainy nights and assures that I never be hungry again, I'm all in…"
Two knocks on the bathroom door brings Franky back to the here and now.
"Baby, I'm here," Erica Davidson enters the bathroom and pulls the shower door open.
Franky quickly remembers that Erica has a key to her place even though she doesn't have one to Erica's place because she lives with her male fiancee.
Franky pulls her into the shower fully dressed, heels and all, getting her wet. She presses her against the wall, grabs her neck, holds her gaze, and starts kissing her quick and rough. Normally Erica was all for this, but she could tell Franky was extra antsy tonight and the aggression behind her touch and kiss was a little more elevated.
Erica uses all her strength and pushes Franky off. "You're gutted?" Erica assumes.
"Do you care?" Franky snaps releasing her hold on Erica's neck.
"Maybe we should talk about what's bothering you," Erica suggests.
"Hmmm," Franky scoffs, turns off the shower and steps out. She grabs the towel off the counter and starts drying off.
Erica slowly steps out of the shower.
"What should we talk about Erica?" Franky continues. "The people we just murdered? I know, how about the fact that I gotta burn another t-shirt cause some human's blood got on it. Or the fact that all I see and smell now is blood to the point that I barely get any fucking sleep and when I do sleep, I see dead bodies and wake up in cold sweats."
"Franky, I'm sorry you feel that way. But you knew what this was when you joined the organization," Erica reminds.
Franky nods as she dries her hair. "Yeah, I knew but after so many years…"
"After so many years…what?" Erica frowns. "You want out?"
"Erica don’t you ever get tired of it all? Haven't you ever wanted more? Oh, wait no cos you have everything. You have the fancy lawyer family and fiancee backing you. You could quit today and have no worries. Does daddy Davidson or Vanilla Pearson know that you kill people while you masquerade as a lawyer?"
Erica shakes her head. "No, we keep family and significant others clueless to what we do for a reason."
"Significant other," Franky repeats. "If Mark is your significant other, what am I?" Franky inquires.
"Not this again." Erica throws up her hands and turns to exit the bathroom.
Franky is quickly on her trail. "Nuh, don’t go now. You wanted to talk, remember? So, let's talk," Franky says. "Am I your significant other, too? Or just a bit of rough trade for ya?"
"Franky, I have loved you for years, you know that," Erica says.
Franky shrugs. "And yet you leave me every night no matter what state I'm in to go home to him. I'm starting to think you don't really love me at all. You just love what I do for you. You love being able to release your freaky lesbian fantasy with me. Then you go home to him and pretend to be the perfect little housewife." Franky grabs her hand seeing that she removed her ring. "At least you respected me enough this time not to flaunt ya fuckin ring."
Erica stands in the middle of Franky's bedroom floor, silent, with tears running down her face.
"Nothing to say now, yeah? Be careful what you ask for next time. In fact, get the fuck out I don’t wanna see your face or hear your voice tonight." Franky walks over to her bedroom door and holds it open. "I'm sure Mark will be happy to have you all to himself tonight. I'll call you next time I'm in the mood to fuck. Otherwise, I'll see ya Monday."
Erica knew when Franky was in her feelings, she was like a wounded dog and it was best to bow out gracefully as to not get bit any further. So, she exhales deep and exits the bedroom.
"Oi, leave my keys on the kitchen counter on your way out!" Franky hollers after her.
Erica grabs her purse off the couch, reaches inside, removes the key to Franky's place off her key ring and slams it down on the counter as she exits.
As Always thank you for reading. Feedback greatly appreciated!
Erica enters her bedroom and heads straight past Mark sitting on the couch, to their bedroom. She quickly sheds her wet clothes and heads to the bathroom to wash Franky’s scent off her. As she turns the shower on and is about to step in, Mark storms into the bathroom.
“Who was he?” Mark asks.
“Who was who?” Erica shoots him a confused glare.
“The man you’ve been fucking?” Mark barks. “Don’t lie Erica I know you weren’t working late. I called the office. They told me you left over three hours ago, and this isn’t the first time. So, again who is the man you’ve been fucking?”
Erica laughs hysterically. “Mark, I have had a long day. I’m going to shower and go to bed. Unless you have proof that I’ve been cheating you can back off with the accusations.”
Mark was stomped he didn’t have any proof, only a gut-wrenching feeling. Knowing that reality, it was best for him to back off for the time being. However, he was still not convinced that Erica wasn’t cheating. She’d been different and distant ever since he asked her to marry him. Not to mention she’d used the excuse of working late quite often since they got engaged. If she wasn’t working, and she wasn’t home with him, that only left one other explanation in his opinion. Or was he paranoid and wrongfully accusing his wife to be?
Franky’s alarm blares, she grabs it and looks at the time, 4:15 a.m. She sits up in bed, reaches over on the nightstand and turns on the lamp. She gets out of the bed, and head over to her closet. Franky grabs a pair of black stretch workout pants, a matching black long-sleeve shirt and a brand-new pair of black sneakers. Once she is finally dressed, she pushes her clothes back to the side and taps the wall behind them. It opens to a combination door, she presses in the combination, then double doors expand exposing her own personal arsenal.
Franky removes two black, stainless steel, razor sharp, 5 Hook Blades. She shuts the doors back, grabs a black zip-up hoodie and puts it on, then zips it tight. Lastly, she puts on a black hat and puts the hood of the hoodie over the hat, along with a pair of black leather and suede gloves. Being that it was the winter season in Melbourne she wasn’t concerned about anyone being suspicious of her outfit. She grabs her car keys, her iPhone and her burner phone and exits the bedroom, then the apartment. The sun still hadn’t risen as Franky makes her way to her midnight blue, tinted window Dodge Challenger Hellcat SRT.
Minutes later she pulls up to the Melbourne Jogging Trail, grabs her binoculars from the glove box and searches the vicinity. The target she’d been following for the past two weeks was in the same place as usual. Every morning at exactly 5:00 a.m. he arrived at the Trail, stretched for the first fifteen minutes, then jogged for thirty more which gives Franky a forty-five-minute timeframe. However, she’d already decided how she’d kill him, and she knew his weakness so she would only need forty-five seconds give or take.
Franky pulls her hat further down over her face and exits the car. She jogs toward the trail and stops a few inches away from her target. As she suspected he starts eyeing her tight stretch workout pants and makes his way over to her.
“G’Day, pretty lady nice to you here again,” the target says.
“I’m sure it is,” Franky replies.
“You know you’ve been coming here for a while now and I still don’t know your name,” the target expresses.
“You never will,” Franky snaps.
She stops stretching, stands straight up, removes a blade from her jacket pocket and in a blink of an eye slits his throat from ear to ear. Per her normal routine Franky doesn’t wait for her target to register what happened or for him to hit the ground.
Back in the car, Franky sends a text on burner phone.
//: Target 232 eliminated.
When she returns to her apartment complex, Franky drops the burner phone on the kitchen floor and stomps it until it shatters. Then she picks up the pieces, puts it in the sink and burns it along with the target’s photo with the chef’s torch. As she disposes of the remains in the sink, she receives a text on her iPhone.
//: Gym training with Maxie today. Don’t forget! ~Bea~
Franky finishes cleaning out the sink, removes her gloves and disposes of them, then responds to the text.
//: I’m on it, Red!
Franky takes off her clothes, socks and shoes then adds them to the trash bag to be burned on her way out. She’d always made it a habit to dispose of the clothes and shoes she wore after completing a mission. Now in just her panties, bra, and a tank top Franky heads to her bedroom, picks out new exercise clothes, enters the bathroom, brushes her teeth and takes a quick shower.
When Franky arrives at Maxie’s Local Gym where they get their weekly training session with her personal trainer that she sees three days a week, Maxine Conway. Bea, Allie, Boomer, Kaz, and Doreen are already there and ready to start the session.
“Well…well, look who finally decided to show up,” Allie jokes as Franky makes her way over to her crew.
“Shut the fuck up, Allie Cat,” Franky fires back jokingly. “Unlike you slackers, I had work to do this morning.”
“Another job well done I presume?” Bea asks, Franky nods. “What’s that close to three hundred?”
“Two-thirty-two but who’s counting,” Franky answers.
“They don’t call you, Godfather for nothing,” Boomer says sneaking up on them and hugging Franky from behind, lifting her off her feet.
“Booms, put me down.” Franky laughs for the first time in a week.
Boomer puts her back onto her feet and releases her.
Franky walks over to Maxine and nudges her softly. “Maxie Pad, how’s it going? Good to see ya, yeah.”
“As always, Franky,” Maxine answers. “Can we get to work now. Time is money and I’m sure none of us have that to waste.”
“Keep your panties on, Maxie. I’m ready to work.” Franky turns and heads back over to the mat that had already been laid out for her between Boomer and Doreen.
She’d known all these ladies since she was sixteen. Bea, Maxine and Kaz are older than her and basically the women who’d been recruited to train her to be the bad arse she is today. Allie was younger than Franky and madly in love with Bea. Boomer and Doreen were the same age as Franky and had lived in foster homes with her until she talked the organization overseer to recruit them as well. They were all part of a contracted organization called The Red Right Hand but more so than that they were family.
They begin training, first with stretching, then one-hundred reps of sit-ups, fifty push-ups and one-hundred squats in reps of twenty. For the second round of training everyone gets on the treadmill, the bike, and the stair master, lastly weight training, beginning with the bench, shoulders and finally arms using dumbbells.
As Franky lifts weights for one solid rep, she notices eyes watching her every move and she isn’t the only one. She’d taken off her jacket and long-sleeve shirt, now she sported a black tank-top that showed off her arm tattoos and the blazing dice tattoo on her breast and her hair was pulled back into a ponytail.
“Looks like someone has a secret admirer,” Maxine informs.
Bea and the other girls turn to look at the same time.
“Fifty bucks says she fucks her before we leave,” Kaz predicts.
“Fuck off, Kaz,” Franky replies playfully pushing her. “I’m insulted. What do ya think I am, eh?”
Bea sucks her teeth loud enough for everyone to hear. “Don’t even act like you don’t knock down pussies the same way you knock down missions.”
“Righto,” Boomer adds. “And ya know you wanna go over there, Franks.”
Franky looks over at the woman again, she couldn’t deny that she was fuckin’ hot with a certain mystique and sex appeal about her. She possessed olive colored skin, short cut styled, brunette hair, green eyes, no piercings but she had tattoos on her neck and both arms.
“Defs screams ya type,” Allie critiques.
Franky shrugs and glares at Allie. “Why cos she got tattoos and short hair? She may not even be a dyke, mates.”
“That never stopped you before,” Bea reminds.
“Oi, to shut y’all up, I’ma go over there,” Franky agrees. “If this gets back to Kim or Erica, I’ll kill all ya,” Franky jokes.
Franky turns and saunters over to the woman who’d been eyeing her. “Like to watch, do ya?”
“I like watching you,” the woman admits.
“Straight and to the point, I like that.” Franky smiles.
“You have beautiful dimples,” the woman comments.
“Not the first thing people compliment about me, but I’ll take it,” Franky replies.
“I only say that cos I’m not sure you know it,” she adds.
Franky gives a slow nod. “I do.”
“So, then why don’t you smile more, gorgeous?” she questions getting a rise out of Franky.
Franky is unable to control the blush that stretches across her face.
“See that wasn’t so hard was it?” the woman flirts. “Love your tattoos by the way.”
“I was gonna say the same about yours,” Franky responds. “What’s your name, Firecracker?”
“Firecracker?” the woman repeats.
“Yeah, the way you come off with no fear or hesitation. You’re defs a firecracker,” Franky explains.
“My name is Quinn…Quinn Carlin,” she answers.
“Nice to meet ya, Quinn Carlin. I’m Franky Doyle.”
“Well, Franky Doyle, I’m headed to the locker room to shower and change but I’d like your number before I leave.”
“I have a better idea if you feel like a challenge,” Franky says and whispers into her ear.
She then takes Quinn by the hand and leads her toward the locker room.
Kaz throws up both of her hands. “And just like that two-hundred and fifty dollars richer.”
“How do you even know she’s fuckin’ her?” Allie asks.
“Do you really think she’s gonna leave out of there without tasting the pussy?” Kaz looks around at each of the women.
They shake their heads knowing it was unlikely. They all agree to pay her once they return to the locker room and receive confirmation of Franky’s rendezvous.
“Oh…fuck…fuck…fuck!” Quinn moans and bites her bottom lip.
She tries to be discreet as to not let the entire gym know what going on. But struggles to suppress her moans as her legs are wrapped around Franky’s neck, while Franky has her pinned to the shower wall with little effort and her face buried deep between her thighs, sucking on her clit.
Franky pauses and looks up at Quinn smiling, flashing her dimples. “You like that?”
“Oohhh…yes…yes, baby,” Quinn moans.
“Want me to make ya cum?” Franky teases holding her up with one arm, while using the other hand to slip two fingers inside her soaking pussy. “Cum for me, Firecracker!”
Franky pushes her fingers upward and finger fucks Quinn with precision until her body starts to twitch and shiver. Once Franky feels her knees buckle and her legs tighten around her neck, she knows she has her right where she needs to be and she kisses her once more, slipping her tongue into her mouth while finger fucking her a few more times sending her completely overboard.
Franky exits the shower and finds her crew standing out there, eyes directly on her, laughing.
“Give me my fuckin’ money now,” Kaz demands.
“Femme Fatale, strikes again,” Maxine jokes going into her locker and handing Kaz a fifty-dollar bill.
“That shoulda been your fucking name,” Bea includes following Maxie’s lead also heading to her locker to pay Kaz.
“Guess I got the magic touch after-all, eh,” Franky boasts.
“More like the magic tongue,” Quinn says from behind her. She leans close to Franky and bites her shoulder. Being that they were literally the same height it didn’t take much effort. “I’m for sure gonna need that number now, gorgeous.”
“No sweat, love,” Franky agrees.
By the time everyone leaves the gym, Franky has the number to a new female companion to blow off steam with and Kaz is three-hundred dollars richer thanks to Franky also paying her for losing the bet.
I hope you all had a great Easter Holiday. As always thank you for reading and feedback is always appreciated!
Chapter 4: Chapter Four
After exchanging numbers with Quinn and leaving the gym Franky returns home to find the familiar black envelope with the red iron fist symbol emblazoned on the front and the letters RRH in bold crimson letters underneath.
Franky exhales long and hard as she bends down and picks up the envelope. "For fucks sake," she grumbles as she heads to her bedroom.
She throws the envelope on the bed, then sheds her jacket, shirt and bra, sits down and removes her shoes. As she makes her way into the bathroom, she steps out of her pants and undies.
As she showers, her mind drifts back to the steamy scene at the showers in the gym. She runs her hand down the front of her and plunges her fingers deep inside her already wet pussy. It had been so long since she had an orgasm with the overtime missions, Kim being under the weather and Erica's neglect that she just needed a release, even though she knew self-service could never fully quench her yearning.
After getting out of the shower Franky was still riled up. She sits down on the bed and dials Quinn's number. She opens the gold seal on the envelope and studies her next target while waiting for her to answer.
"You waste no time, eh?" Quinn says into the phone.
"Time is precious, sweetheart," Franky replies. "Anyway, you busy?"
"Just sitting here thinking about you...that magical tongue of yours," Quinn answers.
Franky laughs. "Is that right? Well, I can't stop thinking about you either."
"What you trying to do, gorgeous?" Quinn asks.
"You tell me, Firecracker." Franky bites her bottom lip.
"I was going to grab a bite to eat. You can join me if you like," Quinn replies.
Now that she thought about Franky hadn't eaten since before her mission the night before. This wasn’t unusual for her, because of the adrenaline, then guilt of what she was forced to do, she could go two sometimes three days without eating. Long as she kept her fluid intake consistent, she was okay. Keeping this in mind she was glad to be able to kill two birds with one stone. She would get a decent meal and a chance to see Quinn again.
"Yeah, that'll be cool," Franky answers. "I can meet you in a few hours."
"Great, I'll text you the address where I’ll be."
"Look forward to it," Franky says.
"Oi, Franky, do you have a strap-on or dildo?" Quinn inquires.
Franky blushes and bites her lips again. "What kinda question is that? Course I do!"
"Good, bring it with you. See ya soon," she hurriedly ends the call.
Franky sits on her bed shaking her head and smiling, really enjoying Quinn's boldness.
After moisturizing her skin, getting dressed and flat ironing her hair so that it was straight at the ends. Franky goes into her bathroom and opens the double door cabinet she kept in there next to the linen closet. Inside it was her own personal collection of sex and kink toys. She grabbed one of three strap-ons. The first strap-on was for Erica, the second one was Kim and the third one was for randoms. She grabs a small black duffle bag and fills it with the strap-on, a dildo, a variety of vibrators, massage oils and handcuffs with black, tiger printed cloth around them. Since Quinn obviously wanted to get nasty, Franky wanted to be prepared for whatever scenario she had in mind.
Franky pulls into the dark abandoned alley. She turns on the windshield wipers as the rain starts pouring. As she waits for her guest, she flips on the radio just in time for breaking news.
“If you are just joining us, as reported earlier, Lord Mayor Rayford Bennett’s accountant Larry Haven was found dead on a jogging trail early this morning. His throat was slit from ear to ear. Apparently, there were no witnesses and as of now no suspects. It was reported last month that Bennett fired his accountant for suspicions of money theft. Given this fact, lots of people assume it was someone from the Bennett’s family or business team who killed Larry Haven but with no witness or a confession one can only speculate…”
Franky smiles, the smile wasn’t because of the murder but because it was done successfully without a hitch. She turns the radio off, and her smile vanishes as her guest approaches the car, opens the door, and gets in.
“No names just speak your peace,” Franky instructs.
“I was told by the agency that you come highly recommended?” a dark hoodie covers his face, but Franky can tell that it’s a man and that he’s white.
“I have been labeled one of the best, yes. So, what’s your point?”
“I didn’t think we’d need to have a face to face. I just wanted this done quick and easy,” he replies.
“Nothing is ever easy about death, remember that,” Franky scolds. “Anyway, this is usually not regular protocol. But cos I know the targets I just a need a few extra details from you that wasn’t in the file. What did they do to you?”
“Why does that matter?” he shrugs.
“Cos, that was my last foster home. I ran away when I was sixteen, but before I ran away I endured physical and verbal abuse,” Franky explains.
“Anything sexual?” he fires back.
“Nuh, every time they’d hit me, I fought back. They ain’t like that too much. So, when I split they were fuckin’ glad,” Franky answers.
“Well, you were more fortunate than me and some of the others,” he continues.
“Alright, gotcha.” Franky knew he was referring to the sexual abuses some of the kids suffered at the hands of her last foster parents.
Although it never happened to her, she’d heard stories. Hell, she’d even heard little boys weep at night and the foster’s mother’s husband warn them not to say anything, or they’d suffer dire consequences. As if raping teenage boys wasn’t already punishment enough.
“No further explanation needed,” Franky adds.
“Good. When can I expect it to be done?” he asks.
“Is that abandoned office building still on the corner directly in front of their house?” Franky inquires.
“Yes, why?” he asks.
“And the file said there are no longer any kids in the house. Is that correct?” Franky continues.
“Yes, that is correct. They were banned from ever being foster any children again when accusations about their abuse started floating around the system,” he informs. “How do you plan to do it?”
“If I tell you that I’ll have to kill ya. Matter of fact…”
In a flash Franky snatches his hoodie off his head and jabs him in the neck with the needle she’d been discreetly hiding in her gloved hand before he got in the car. As he struggles in vain, she pushes the liquid through the needle. Then in one swift motion she places a black plastic bag over his head and holds it tight until he fully stops breathing that took under a minute’s time.
She removes the bag and uses her gloved hand to check his pupils. “Sorry, mate, can’t leave nothing to chance,” she says as the opens the door and pushes him out, then backs out of the alley the same way she entered…without a trace.
Chapter 5: Chapter Five
As Franky sits in the local carwash waiting for her car to be completed, she finally receives the text she’d been waiting for.
//: Meet me at the restaurant located in the Melbourne Hyatt Hotel. See ya soon! ~Firecracker~
Franky runs her car through the carwash once more to assure that all traces of fingerprints and any trace of DNA has been scrubbed off. Upon arrival at the hotel, she grabs the duffle bag and the black dress bag that contained a change of clothes from the backseat. Franky knew this hotel very well, when she and Erica started fucking, they pretty much wore out the beds in damn every hotel in Melbourne. So, it took her only seconds to get on the elevator and make her way down to the restaurant.
Quinn sees her approaching and stands up from the table to greet her.
Franky places her bags in the extra chair of the four top and embraces Quinn giving her a full once over. No longer the sweaty woman from the gym. Now she rocked a black Sequin criss-cross mini dress, that accentuated her curves and did a great job exposing her titties, her heels matched the red dress, and her hair has an extra part and spike in it then before.
“Damn!” Franky commented spinning her around. “You’re so fuckin’ hot.”
“Thank you, for a minute there I thought you were standing me up,” Quinn states.
Franky shakes her head. “Never.”
“Okay, shall we sit down and get this night started, then?” Quinn asks and pulls Franky chair out for her.
“Thanks, but I should be the one doing that for you,” Franky replies.
“Why?” Quinn shrugs. “We’re both females who are interested in one another. Why does there have to be some label that says one of us have to be the dominate one?”
Franky sits down then waits for Quinn to take her seat directly across from her. “Okay, two things.” She holds up her hand. “One…” She raises her index finger. “I am always the dominate one in my relationships. It’s how I’ve always been built.” She holds up the second finger. “Two, I’m not sure what you have planned in that freaky little head of yours tonight, but I don’t make love…I fuck! If you’re cool knowing those two things we can continue, if not we should just cut our losses here and now.”
Quinn reaches across the table and grabs her hand. “I’m cool, Franky. I’m not trying to get you to marry me or nothin’.”
“Good! So, Little Miss Firecracker, where you from? Cos I’ve never seen you around before,” Franky questions pulling her hand back and folding them on the table as she locked eyes with Quinn.
“I was born here in Melbourne. But I travel a lot for work, so that’s probably why our paths hadn’t crossed before,” Quinn explains.
“What kind of work do ya do?” Franky asks.
“I model,” Quinn answers a little too quickly for Franky.
“You look like it,” Franky finally agrees. “How long you here for?”
“Not sure I’m currently working an assignment. When it’s over I’ll probably be assigned to one more before I travel again,” Quinn says.
“Well, guess I better get my time in now, eh. Before you leave here and forget all about Melbourne and our little people,” Franky jokes.
“I couldn’t do that even if I tried. Shit, my mum would have a fit if I left and never came back. She has never left Melbourne in all her life. She’s my world, so I come back often. Luckily when I do come home, I get to work and get paid as well.” Quinn smiles. “I’m glad I came home this time when I did cos it opened the door to the opportunity for me to sit here across from you, gorgeous.”
“Keep flirtin’ with me we’re gonna have to go straight to dessert,” Franky warns.
“That would be fine by me, I have a room here,” Quinn replies.
“On second thought we better eat a proper meal. You’re gonna need your energy.” Franky says.
“Okay, well while we’re still waiting what do you do for a living?”
“I’m an exterminator,” Franky answers.
“What do you exterminate?” Quinn asks curious.
“Rodents and any other vermine that causes a problem to our health or livelihood,” Franky informs. “So, how old are you, Quinn?”
“Twenty-eight,” Franky responds.
“Not a bad age, wish I was that age again,” Quinn states smiling.
“Yeah, well, I’m surprised I made it to this age,” Franky confesses.
“Why? You didn’t think you would?” Quinn asks.
“Let’s just say that my life wasn’t always so good. My mum used to beat the shit outta me every day after my dad left…I was ten. When social services took me from her, I was abuses more in foster homes.” Franky explains. “So, I knew that either one of them would kill me or I’d kill them and end up in prison.”
“But you’re not dead or in prison, Franky. You’re here and you should enjoy living your life and thriving,” Quinn advises. “So, how about a smile?”
Franky smiles showing off all her dimples.
At that moment the waiter came over ready to take their orders. “Good evening, ladies,” the bloke says eyeing both women with lust filled eyes. “My name’s Bryan, I’ll be your waiter tonight.”
“G’day, Bryan, put ya eyes away, sweetie. We’re here together…as a couple,” Quinn says blatantly.
Franky nods and smiles confirming Quinn’s statement.
“Uh…um…kay, what can I get you?” Bryan stutters.
"Let me get the lemon pepper Salmon, Rice Pilaf, Asparagus and lots of butter and a dirty Martini," Quinn orders.
"I will take the veggie lasagna, two lemon waters and coffee black with three, " Franky adds.
"Coming right up." Bryan doesn't even bother to make eye contact with the ladies as he walks away.
Quinn waits until he's out of sight, then she busts out laughing, causing Franky to smile.
"What's funny, giggles?" Franky asks.
"How quickly his facial expression changed," Quinn replies. "When he first got over here, he was all googly eyes."
"Sucks to be him," Franky says.
"Now back to you, Francesca. Why hasn't anyone made an honest woman outta ya, yet?" Quinn inquires.
Franky raises her brows. "I could ask you the same thing."
"My job keeps me very busy," Quinn replies.
"So, does mine," Franky replies. "And I make it a personal habit not to fall in love. Falling in love is the worst mistake a human will ever make. It causes the worst kinda pain." Franky adds.
"That's a shame, someone as beautiful as you feel that way." Quinn got this look of pity on her face. She tries to put it away before Franky can notice but has no such luck.
"Don't feel sorry for me," Franky advises. “It is what it is, I'm not your average woman, keep that in mind for later."
“So, you’ve never been in love?” Quinn continues.
“Once…but the bitch strung me along and chose a fuckin’ prick over me,” Franky replies.
Before Quinn can respond Bryan brings out their food. As they eat, Quinn can't help but regret asking that question. She silently vows to release Franky's tension the minute they get back to the room.
Chapter 6: Chapter Six
Quinn slides the key into her room and kicks her shoes off as she crosses the threshold. Franky follows slowly behind her, watching her seductively. Quinn wastes no time stepping out of her dress, while Franky puts the duffle bag and dress bag on the chair.
“Would you like to shower first?” Quinn asks. Standing in front of Franky completely nude seeing as she hadn’t worn a bra with her dress.
“Nuh, but if you feel the need to, I’ll wait. I’m a patient woman,” Franky responds.
“Well, I’ma jump in the shower. Make yourself comfortable,” Quinn says and starts walking past Franky.
Franky grabs Quinn’s waist from behind, pulls Quinn into her and kisses the side of her neck. She tweaks Quinn left nipple with one hand while sliding the other hand down her stomach, inside her panties.
“Pa…patient woman, huh?” Quinn pants as Franky massages her clit to the rhythm that she’s tweaking her nipples, sending shivers through Quinn’s body.
“You like that?” Franky whispers into her ear, biting her earlobe at the same time.
Quinn nods and just as her body starts to tremble from the orgasm bubbling inside her, Franky stops and holds her steady until she catches her breath.
“A little motivation while you’re in the shower,” Franky teases releasing her.
“You are a very bad woman, Franky Doyle,” Quinn says.
“You have no idea.” Franky laughs, then smacks her ass. “Now get your arse in gear woman.”
Once Franky hears the shower come on, she pulls out her cellphone, brings up the camera tool and hurries over to Quinn’s purse sitting on the nightstand. Franky opens Quinn’s purse, takes out her billfold and examines the contents, then snaps a quick picture of her driver’s license. Before finally putting it away Franky searches through everything else, she finds a photo of Quinn hugging an older woman who looks exactly like her but with longer hair.
“Must be her mum?” Franky says to herself. “Pretty good genes.”
Franky searches the rest of the purse for anything suspicious. Finding nothing that sparks alarm, she puts Quinn’s license and billfold back like she found it, then texts the photo to her confidential informant and tech nerd.
//: I need all the info you have on her.
//: Friend or Foe? The responding text asks.
//: Not sure yet.
//: Okay, well like you tell me. Trust no one.
Franky locks her phone screen and puts it in the inside pocket of her jacket hanging on the back of the chair. Then she undresses from the waist down, opens the duffle bag, removes the strap-on and attaches the harness to her waist.
A few minutes later, Quinn emerges from the bathroom, draped in a towel as Franky sits on the bed waiting for her. Franky stands and greets her, then snatches off the towel. “I’m so fuckin’ horny,” she confesses. Franky takes Quinn by the hand and escorts her over to the bed. “Lay on your stomach,” she instructs.
Quinn doesn’t hesitate to do exactly as Franky requests. Franky pushes her knees forward so that she’s on all fours and her ass is raised high.
“Damn, you’re so fuckin’ sexy.” Franky uses the tip of her tongue and licks a trail down her back, sending chills up and down Quinn’s spine.
“Oohhh…” Quinn moans lightly.
Franky places soft kisses on her shoulders one after the other, then moves down to her lower back. She slips two fingers inside Quinn’s opening, while biting both of her ass cheeks.
Quinn gyrates her hips to the motion of Franky’s fingers, causing her pussy to get wetter and wetter.
“God…that feels…uunnhhh!” Quinn moans louder closing her eyes. “Feels so fuckin’ good.”
Franky briefly pauses her seduction. “I’m just getting started, baby,” she boasts.
Franky takes her fingers out of Quinn and licks them tasting Quinn essence. “Um…sexy and delicious,” Franky teases.
Franky slips her tongue inside Quinn’s hole and massages her clit at the same time.
“Shit! Shit! Baby, I’m cumming!” Quinn shrieks.
“Not yet, sexy,” Franky replies. She stops the foreplay and puts lubrication on the strap-on, then places the tip at Quinn’s opening. “If you don’t like something or I get too rough, please tell me,” Franky advises.
Quinn nods and looks back at Franky over her shoulders. “I will, baby. Please just fuck me already.”
“Be careful what you wish for,” Franky warns.
She penetrates her and pushes several inches inside, grabs ahold of Quinn’s shoulders and starts giving her slow, intense thrusts.
Quinn stretches her hands in an attempt to grab something. She settles on the sheets, clutching them tight with her eyes closed as Franky’s thrusts get harder and deeper.
“Franky!” Quinn squeals. “Don’t…don’t’ stop! Harder, baby…harder!” Quinn moans louder.
Franky obliges her request, grabs ahold of her waist and slams the strap-on into her all the way to the hilt causing Quinn to scream in pleasure and pain.
An hour later, Quinn lay in Franky’s arms sweating, panting and unable to move.
“Sorry,” Quinn apologizes for not being able to return the pleasure at the moment.
“No worries,” Franky assures. Honestly, she’d gotten off just from the hard fucking she administered on Quinn. She relished in the power to make a woman break down at her slightest touch or kiss, that alone was the greatest gratification in her book. “I’m sure you’ll make it up to me next time.” She kisses Quinn then eases from behind her, out of the bed.
“What’s with the t-shirt, baby?” Quinn stares at Franky’s black t-shirt. “I meant to ask you earlier but…”
“You were more concerned about getting fucked,” Franky finishes her statement with a laugh. “It’s nothing, Quinn. I just don’t get completely naked with random women,” Franky lies.
The truth was she’d only shown two people her torso that was etched with a cherry blossom tattoo to conceal the scars from when her mum burned her with cigarettes. “I’ma go shower, rest little one.”
Franky grabs her phone, then the dress bag with her change of clothes. Once in the bathroom she sheds the t-shirt, bra, and strap-on. She uses the washcloth and soap to clean the strap-on first and leaves it in the sink as she showers and washes her hair.
A half an hour later, Franky exits the bathroom, fully clothed in a fresh pair of slacks, a black turtleneck, pullover, long-sleeve knitted sweater and black socks. She puts the strap-on back in the bag, then sits on the edge of the bed, being careful not wake a sleeping Quinn.
She puts on her shoes and as she gets off the bed to gather her things, Quinn’s voice rang out.
“So, you fuck me then ghost me, eh?” Quinn accuses propping her head on her hand, staring at Franky.
“I don’t spend the night with women, and I have to be at work first thing tomorrow,” Franky explains.
The first part was true, but the second part was a lie because she didn’t work on Sundays. Sunday was the one day of the week that was officially all about her.
“Wow, after all we just did! You can’t even consider staying for a little while?” Quinn pouts.
“Maybe next time, Firecracker.” Franky walks over and kisses her lips. “I’ll call ya, promise.” Franky quickly heads for the door.
“You’ll learn to trust me one day, Franky Doyle,” Quinn calls after her as Franky exits the room.
As Franky steps on the elevator, she sees a beautiful woman leaned against the wall inside. She was shorter than Franky by a couple inches, with golden blonde hair and mesmerizing blue eyes.
“Someone had a good time tonight, huh?” Franky says smelling the alcohol on her.
“Just sorting some things before the wedding tomorrow,” the woman explains.
Franky’s eyes dart down at her hands.
“Not me, my brother…my younger brother. Both brothers got married before me, and I’m the oldest,” the woman rambles.
Franky smiles flashing her dimples. “Pity…a gorgeous woman like you. What the fuck are women thinking?”
“How you know I’m into…into women?” the woman fires back.
“I am a very perceptive person. The way your eyes wandered to my breasts when I stepped on. The way you crossed your feet and the escalation in your breathing as you thought I was getting close to you. I know you’re a dyke,” Franky concludes.
The woman nods with a smile. “I prefer the term lesbian and yes, I am one. I take it, so are you?”
“Proudly,” Franky comments. “Franky.” She extends her hand.
Bridget shakes her hands, and they hold each other’s gaze for what felt like eternity. “Nice meeting you, Franky…Bridget.”
Just as the conversation and the chemistry gets good the elevator dings and stops on Bridget’s floor.
“See ya around, Franky,” Bridget says moving toward the door.
“Oi, you good to get to ya room? Or you need some help?” Franky questions.
“I’m good…promise,” Bridget says smiling.
“Well, I don’t get a hug, number…nothing?” Franky flirts.
“Don’t think you can give me a hug with those bags and as for my number. You look like you’re leaving a rendezvous, correct?” Franky nods. “So, why should I trust you?”
“Cos, you know you want to,” Franky answers arrogantly.
Bridget’s heart races, her faces flushes and desire dances in her eyes. She holds the door open with her body then puts her hand out. “What the fuck do I have to lose?” she asks. “Give me your phone.
Franky puts the duffle bag down, reaches inside her pocket and passes Bridget her phone.
Bridget inserts her name and number into Franky’s contact list. “If you’re serious call me. If not, your loss.” Bridget hands Franky back her phone and exits the elevator.
Franky was already intrigued by the short, blonde, blue-eyed woman. “Bridget!” she says aloud as she looks at her name and number in her phone. “I’ll be seeing ya, Bridget,” Franky promises as the elevator continues on down to the lobby and she swiftly exits the hotel.
Chapter 7: Chapter Seven
After sex with Quinn and meeting Bridget in the elevator, Franky was too riled up to sleep. She went home, dropped off the duffle and dress bag, then opened her arsenal. She slips on her gun holster, grabs two brand-new Berettas, then secures them inside the holster and puts on her zip up hoodie. She also grabs her camera, binoculars, gloves, and a large flashlight.
Franky pulls up in front of the abandoned office building. She uses her skills to unlock the door and enters the building. It had been abandoned for years and filled with dust, spiders and mice. Franky pays no attention to any of that as she takes the stairs up to the roof. From the roof, she sees the neighborhood and house of her targets clearly.
Franky stares into their bedroom with the binoculars, then uses the zoom zap on her camera to take photos. They were in the bed sleeping with their tanned, Pomeranian asleep at their feet.
“Perfect little old couple, eh?” Franky taunts and sucks her teeth. “Yeah, right.”
Franky takes a couple more photos and was happy that her sniper gun would be able to hit the couple from every angle without detection.
Back home Franky was finally ready to jump in bed and pass out. However, when she opens her door and enters her apartment, Kim is sitting on the couch with her legs crossed.
“I gotta stop giving women keys to my place,” Franky says stepping into the light to get a closer look at Kim.
“Nice to see you, too,” Kim says getting off the couch. “I thought you would have at least come by to see if I was dead or alive.”
Franky raises her brows. “You look alive and well to me.” She chuckles.
“Not funny, Franky,” Kim whines.
“I wanted to come by, Kimmie. But ya know how demanding my missions can get,” Franky explains.
“No excuses, Franky. When I met you, you rambled about Erica breaking your heart and treating you like shit,” Kim recalls.
“Your point?” Franky shrugs.
“My point, Franky…” Kim closes the space between them and wraps her arms around her neck. “Don’t treat me the same way she treated you. I love you, Franky.”
Franky smiles. “I know, Kimmie.” Franky kisses her.
Before Kim can respond about Franky not saying she loved her back, Franky lifts her off her feet without struggle. Kim drapes her arms around Franky’s neck and Franky carries her to her bedroom and lays her down. She pulls her pants and shoes off, then snatches off her panties, shutting her up with every flick of her tongue and stroke of her fingers.
Hours later, Franky awakes to find Kim gone and a note on her pillow. She picks up the note and reads it out loud:
I know I should’ve told you earlier but I’m still a bit under the weather, so I had to go home and take another dose of medicine. I was just aching to see you. And I also left cos I know your rule about women spending the night. I ain’t wanna cross your boundaries. I love you, Franky. Oh, and don’t think I didn’t notice that you didn’t say it back earlier. That’s okay, hopefully you will one day, but if not just know I love you anyway, baby.
Franky rubs a hand through her hair and sighs. She was stressed for Kim because she knew deep down, she could never give Kim the love she wanted and in a way it fucked her up because Kim was such a sweet girl and an even sweeter root.
Franky grabs her phone and pulls up Kim’s number, then texts her.
//: Thank you for coming over. I missed you! Feel better Kim!
Franky added a smiley face, heart eyes emoji with the text.
She pulled up Quinn’s number next and texts her.
//: Thank you for last night. You were amazing. Looking forward to time with you again.
Franky adds a tongue emoji, sweat droplet emoji, peach emoji, and fireworks emoji with the text.
Last but not least she pulls up Bridget’s number.
//: So, this wedding. What is the dress attire?
She sends a smiley face and heart emoji with the text.
As she finishes sending her texts one comes in from Erica.
//: When are you going to stop giving me the cold shoulder. I know it’s only been a day but I miss you, Franky. ~Erica~
//: Fuck off Erica!
Franky sent her a middle finger emoji.
Franky decides to take a relaxing bath while she waits for responses to her texts, especially from Bridget, which was really the only one she was looking forward to. Just as Franky settles in the tub and lays her head back, her phone on the edge of the tub vibrates. She hurries to answer it and smiles from cheek to cheek as the name and number flashes across the screen.
“Did my text wake you?” Franky asks.
“Nah, I get up everyday at five a.m. like clockwork,” Bridget explains.
Franky looks at the time on her phone it is 5:02 a.m.
“Damn and the first thing you did was call me? I feel special,” Franky jokes.
“Awe, hush up.” Bridget laughs. “Anyway, you asked about the dress attire. Why?”
“Just wanted a visual of what your sexy arse will be wearing to get through my day,” Franky replies.
“Well, I’ll be wearing a white dress with a V-cut front, opened in the back with a split up the left side of the dress.”
“In the middle of June?” Franky thought about how cold it gets.
“It’s indoors, mum,” Bridget jokes.
“I’m serious, Bridget, you’re too sexy to be getting sick. I know that flu bug is going around.” Franky thought about Kim briefly.
“I will also have a white jacket in case I decide to step out,” Bridget adds. “But you being so worried is kinda sexy.”
“That dress sounds sexy as hell as well,” Franky replies.
“Thank you,” Bridget comments. “Wish you could see me in it.”
“Me too,” Franky admits. “What time will it be over…the wedding?”
“Let me see it’s starts at eleven thirty. Then there’s the reception which will probably last about two hours. So, you’ll probably hear from me around three or four something,” Bridget explains.
“Okay, I look forward to hearing from you,” Franky says. “I’ll let you get back to whatever it is you do when you get up this early.”
“Why are you up so early?” Bridget asks.
“Couldn’t sleep, but now I think I’ll be able to get a nap in after hearing your beautiful voice,” Franky says.
“See ya, Bridget,” Franky says and ends the call.
She finishes her bath and sets her timer on her phone for 8:00 a.m. while she decides to get a quick nap in.
After her alarm goes off Franky jumps out of bed, all smiles, she’d had the best dream about Bridget. She could only hope one day it would become a reality. She went into her closet and found the best white pants suit and heels. She had kept the many fancy outfits Erica bought or made her buy when they were together.
She went into the bathroom and flat ironed her hair, brushed her teeth, and gargled her. Then moistened and scented her skin and got dressed. She put on lip gloss and dark eyeliner last. As she headed out of the apartment her cellphone rang.
“I finally got your text,” Quinn says when Franky answers. “I’m looking forward to spending time with you, too. When exactly do you think that will be?”
“Not sure, I have something to do right now,” Franky replies.
“You can’t postpone?” Quinn asks, Franky can hear the desperation in her voice.
“I’m accompanying a friend to an event. I can’t flake on her. But I will call ya when I’m done,” Franky responds.
Quinn exhales. “Guess I have to accept that.”
“Have a good day, beautiful,” Franky states.
Franky ends the call, then instantly receives a text from Kim. It was a selfie of her in bed, wrapped in a blanket. After finally leaving the house, her first stop was at the market. She bought a picnic basket, an assortment of herbal teas, lozenges, medicine, popcorn, chips, a heating and cooling pad and lots of her favorite chocolates. The next stop she made was to a flower shop, she bought a variety of rose and lilies. The last stop she made before getting to her preferred destination was at Kim’s house that she shared with her best friend Tina who was also an Assassin.
Franky knocks on the door and waits about two minutes before Tina finally opens it.
“Franky, what a surprise?” Tina says sarcastically.
“Where’s Kim?” Franky gets straight to the point.
“In bed, she’s really sick. I wouldn’t advise going back there,” Tina comments.
“Wasn’t going to, I’m in a hurry. Just make sure she gets this.” Franky hands Tina the basket. “And it’s not for you, so no peeking or stealing.”
Tina takes the basket, smiles and shuts the door.
By the time, Franky arrives at the hotel, she is informed by the hotel clerk that the Westfall wedding had moved to the Banquet Hall for the reception. The reception wasn’t invitation only, so Franky just told the clerk she was a friend of the family and that technically wasn’t a lie.
When Franky enters the Banquet Hall, she is relieved that it’s not too crowded. She spots the groom dressed in a white tux, he was taller than Bridget and had the same blonde hair, and his bride was a tall, slim, brunette. Franky quickly scans the rest of the room until she sees who she’s looking for. Bridget sat at a table in the far, left side of the room, drinking a glass of wine. It’s just Franky’s luck that as she approached the table, the D.J. blares Thinking Out Loud by Ed Sheeran. Bridget turns in that direction and sees Franky coming her way, then smiles and gets up from the table.
“What…how’d you…I didn’t know you were coming,” Bridget stutters having a hard time finding the right words as she closes the space between them.
Franky hands Bridget the flowers. “That’s the point of a surprise, Bridget.”
“These are so beautiful,” Bridget says, smelling the flowers then placing them on the table. “I’m still shocked you’re here.”
Franky replies. “If you don’t want me here…”
Bridget grabs Franky’s hand, cutting her off and leads her onto the dance floor. “Nonsense, we’re dancing.”
“Not yet,” Franky says, twirling Bridget around as she clings to her hand. “Damn, the dress is even sexier than you described.”
The dress Bridget wore really accentuated her curves, ass, and bosom, turning Franky on to the highest extent. But she forced herself to stay composed. Something told her Bridget wasn’t one for being throttled in public like she was known for doing.
“Thank you.” Bridget smiles. “You clean up well, too. What made you decide to come? Was that the plan all along?”
“I just know how it feels to be at someone’s wedding without a mate. I didn’t wanna have you sitting by your lonesome watching everyone else have a good time,” Franky explains.
“I appreciate that, Franky. So, what does this make us now?” Bridget shrugs.
Franky shrugs as well, then flashes a cunning smile. “I don’t know…friends I reckon…with benefits?” she jokes.
Bridget laughs and throws her arms around Franky’s neck. “Let’s start with just friends for now.” Bridget gazes into her green eyes.
Franky pulls her close and softly caresses her waist. “That works for me…for now.”
She exhales taking in Bridget’s scent, the beautiful woman was already driving her crazy. Her breathing increases and her heart rate speed up. For the first time in a long while Franky just revels in the bliss of being in Bridget’s presence. No drama, no sex, no kinky shit, just holding her felt right and for the moment that was enough.
Chapter 8: Chapter Eight
“So, what does Franky stand for?” Bridget asks once she and Franky sat back down at her table.
Franky raises her brows. “Not following.”
“Your name, what is it short for?” Bridget continues. “I know your parents didn’t just decide to name you Franky. I mean if they did, that’s okay.”
“What’d ya think it means?” Franky smiles.
Bridget shrugs. “Don’t know, it could mean a few things. Francine…Frances...”
“Francesca,” Franky cuts her off.
“Francesca,” Bridget repeats. “I like that. Why don’t you use it?”
Franky shrugs. “It doesn’t fit with my job description.”
“And what is it that you do exactly?” Bridget puts a hand on her chin to prop herself up.
“I’ma exterminator,” Franky replies.
Bridget turns her face up in a ‘Yeah right’ expression. “Really…what do you do? Cause I don’t see someone like you chasing rodents around all day.”
“Depends on what kinda rodents we’re referring to, Bridget,” Franky replies. “Basically, I do what I have to do to survive.”
“Ah, I see,” Bridget says and nods her head in understanding.
She knew Franky wasn’t an exterminator in the literal sense and that whatever she really did could land them both in Wentworth prison if Franky disclosed the information at the wrong place and wrong time. So, she decides to leave the conversation alone for now.
“So, how many brothers do you have?” Franky asks.
“Why don’t you come find out?” Bridget waits for no response, takes Franky’s hand and pulls her up from her chair.
Franky becomes tensed and leery as Bridget guides her over to the floor where a group of people are gathered.
“I don’t do parents, Bridget,” Franky says.
“Relax,” Bridget encourages. “They won’t bite, promise and if they do, I’ll protect you.”
Even though this was totally out of character for Franky, she was finding it hard to pull away from the blonde’s lead.
“Baby girl, who do we have here?” A man with a darker shade of blue eyes and peppered colored hair asks.
He was about six feet tall, and Franky didn’t need a rocket science to tell her that he was Bridget’s father.
"Dad this is my friend Francesca," Bridget announces. “Francesca, this is my dad.”
Charles Westfall smiles and extends his hand to Franky. "Nice to meet you, Francesca. Haven't seen my daughter with too many friends lately. So, you must be pretty special?"
Franky shrugs. "I must be, eh?" she teases and nudges Bridget.
"Anyway," Bridget says, not answering the proposed question. "This is my mum, Beverly."
Instantly Franky saw where Bridget got her height from. Her mum looked like she couldn't be more than five feet tall, she too shared the blonde tresses and blue eyes.
Beverly reluctantly shakes Franky's hand. Further confirming why, Franky was opposed to meeting families of women she fancied. One or both always had an issues with her being a dyke with tattoos and she wasn’t one for holding back her feelings or biting her tongue when feeling attacked or disrespected.
"Francesca never heard of or seen you before," Beverly says with a frown. "You look a bit young. How old are you exactly?"
"Old enough," Franky simply responds.
Bridget guides Franky away from the awkward conversation, over to two men and one woman who Franky recognizes as the bride.
"Franky, these are my brothers Brett and Bryan. And this lovely lady is Bryan's wife Hannah.
Bryan and Brett were taller than Bridget, they too had the blue eyes and blonde hair. Bridget and Hannah stood neck and neck in height. Hannah was a brunette with brown eyes.
"Good to meet all of you," Franky extends her hands.
Brett looks at her hand, then closes the space between them and without warning, hugs Franky lifting her slightly off her feet. "Any friend of Bridget's is a friend of mine," he says.
"Thanks, I guess," Franky replies.
Bryan shakes Franky's hand with a smile. "Thank you for coming. I haven't seen my sister smile so much in a while. So, whatever mojo you worked on her. Keep doing it.
Franky just smiles especially seeing Bridget's cheek turn a rose colored red with embarrassment.
"This song is for all the couples in the house. Get your arses on the dance floor!" The D.J.s voice rang out, then Brian McKnight's Back At One blasted through the speakers.
Bridget was relieved for the excuse to walk away and not have to address the comment Bryan made.
"So, your family seems…" Franky pauses trying to find the right words as they stood with their hands still intertwined.
"I am so sorry, I feel so embarrassed," that rose color returns to Bridget's cheeks.
Franky caresses her face and looks into her eyes. "No need to be embarrassed, they're cool...except ya mum. Kinda got the sense she ain’t vibing with me."
"It's not you, she's never fully accepted my sexual orientation," Bridget explains.
"What exactly is your sexual orientation?" Franky asks.
"I'm here with you, right?" Bridget hunches her shoulders.
"That doesn't mean shit, you could be bisexual," Franky says.
"I'ma lesbian," Bridget confirms making Franky do an inward happy dance.
"Good...good cause I already dealt with a woman who liked men and women. Didn't really go over so well," Franky adds.
Bridget nods knowingly. "Now I get it."
"What?" Franky says.
"Why you're so withdrawn," Bridget says. "A woman broke your heart. So, you use sex as a front to not have to let another woman in. That way you don’t get hurt again."
Franky was impressed. "What are you some kinda psychic?"
"No, but I am a psychologist and I'm a very perceptive person," Bridget explains.
"Psychologist, eh that's a step up from my usual dates careers," Franky admits.
"Which are?" Bridget questions.
"If I tell you that, I have to kill ya," Franky jokes but deep down was serious.
"Alright, Francesca, keep your secrets. I won't pry, but one day you're gonna learn to trust me. I guarantee it," Bridget says confident.
"Is that right, Gidget? Plan to work a miracle, eh?"
Bridget liked the name that combined her name and the word gorgeous. It was the first time she was ever referred to like that and she couldn't help but smile.
"I don't need a miracle, I'm not a Game Of Thrones character," Bridget replies. "I just know that under this rough exterior…” Bridget places a soft hand on Franky’s chest where heart is. “There is someone amazing dying to be let out. And no matter what it takes or how long Franky I'ma bring the better part of you to life."
"Come here," Franky takes Bridget's hand and pulls her into her, then without warning or question she puts her lips to Bridget.
As they kiss, allowing their tongues to tangle a feeling like no other that Franky has ever felt before engulfs her and she quickly backs away.
"I'm sorry," Franky apologizes and turns for the exit.
Bridget holds her hand tighter. "That tight feeling in your chest and bubbling in your stomach is good, Franky. Don’t fight it...embrace it."
Franky shakes her head. "I shouldn't have did that."
"I'm glad you did," Bridget admits.
"Yeah, but I don’t wanna give you the wrong idea. Gidget, I like you but...um...I'm not a commitment kinda woman," Franky informs. “I’m not capable of being good to or lovin’ someone like you and I can tell you want that.”
"Yes, you are, Franky," Bridget challenges. "You're just afraid right now and that's okay. It just means that I have my work cut out for me. But I will not give up on you, Francesca."
Chapter 9: Chapter Nine
After a few more dances, a delicious meal, cake and champagne glass filled toasts the wedding was over, but neither Franky nor Bridget wanted to depart from each other’s presence.
“Thank you for today,” Bridget tells Franky, smiling. “I had a great time.”
“Yeah, I did too,” Franky agrees.
“So, when will I see you again, Francesca?” Bridget inquires.
Franky rubs her hand over her chin and tilts her head sideways. “I honestly can’t answer that, right now.”
“Fair enough. How about escorting me to my car?” Bridget requests.
“What about your room?” Franky asks.
“I checked out right before the wedding. I’m headed home, love,” Bridget responds. “How about escorting me to my car?”
“Okay, let’s go, my fair lady.” Franky extends her hand.
As she slowly escorts Bridget out of the banquet hall, through the lobby and outside of the hotel a familiar voice calls out.
Franky looks up and sees who the voice belongs to. “Quinn, hey how are ya?”
“How am I?” Quinn repeats with an attitude. “I’m confused, Franky. I thought you said you were busy today?” Quinn points at Bridget. “I’ll betcha were.”
“What are you on about?” Franky releases Bridget’s hand and walks over to Quinn.
“I wanted to see you today. You could have told me you’d be with another woman,” Quinn fusses as her face becomes red and her nose twitches. “You didn’t have to lie just to be with some other bitch.”
Franky grits her teeth and before Quinn can blink, Franky’s hand wraps around her neck like a vice grip.
Quinn tries to break Franky’s hold on her neck by pulling at Franky’s hand, but she’s too strong.
“I…I…can’t…” Quinn has trouble speaking as tears fill her eyes.
Bridget approaches Franky and slowly touches her arm. “Let her go, Francesca,” Bridget says soothingly.
Instantly, almost as if it was robotic. Franky’s hand drops from around Quinn’s neck. Quinn stands there rubbing her neck with tears falling down her face.
“Do I look like someone you can blatantly disrespect?” Franky barks. “Don’t you ever speak to me or her that way again.”
“I’m sorry, Franky…I…I just…” Quinn tries to explain through her tears.
“I don’t wanna hear it, Quinn. Get the fuck outta my face. Now!” Franky becomes so infuriated her body shivers.
Quinn speeds walks into the hotel as fast as her legs will carry her.
Once she’s out of sight, Franky turns to Bridget. “I’m sorry, she should not have said that to you.”
“And you should not have done that to her,” Bridget chastises.
“I know,” Franky says. “I just…I snapped.”
“I understand that, Franky.” Bridget raises her hands. “But whatever this love squabble is you got going on, I want no parts of it.”
Franky nods knowingly and frowns disappointed. “Yeah, see I knew when it came down to it, you wouldn’t be able to stick around. That’s why I never believe the words out of a person’s mouth. Actions will always speak louder.”
“Meaning what exactly?” Bridget questions.
“Meaning get the fuck away from me.” Franky backs away from Bridget.
She felt like crying but maintain her composure. The woman she thought she could trust to handle her no matter what the circumstances had just become another name on the list of people who’d let her down.
Franky enters her apartment and snatches her shoes and outfit off, then tosses it in the garbage. Franky lays on the bed backward in just her bra and panties and stares up at the ceiling. She couldn’t stop thinking about Bridget and how things went down, but her pride wouldn’t let her make that call or text.
Franky was drifting off to sleep when her phone vibrates next to her. Franky grabs the phone, looks at the name and number and takes a moment to hide her excitement before finally answering.
“Thought you wanted no parts of me?” Franky recalls.
“I didn’t say that, Francesca,” Bridget corrects. “I said I wanted no parts of the drama and I don’t. I dealt with that in my last relationship with my last girlfriend. Which is why we split, after being single for three years I don’t want that kinda relationship again. No matter how gorgeous the woman is,” Bridget explains.
Her explanation softens Franky’s heart a little. “I’m sorry, Bridget, I didn’t know.”
“Of course, you didn’t, a wedding is not the time or place to expose ex lover’s drama,” Bridget replies.
“I shouldn’t have spoken to ya like that. But I was already worked up and…”
“And maniac,” Bridget finishes. “Have you ever been tested for bipolar or anxiety?”
“No, I haven’t,” Franky answers quickly. “Are you trying to psychoanalyze me, Gidget?”
“No, but maybe a session or two wouldn’t hurt,” Bridget offers.
“Nuh, no thanks, I’m a-okay,” Franky declines with a light chuckle.
“Okay, well, do me a favor, Francesca,” Bridget requests as her tone gets more serious.
Franky sits all the way up in the bed and listens attentively. “What’s that?”
“Go to Quinn…make things right with her. Learn to open your heart to her without fear. Let someone in for a change, Franky. Then in a few months come back to me and tell me how it feels,” Bridget instructs.
“And what if I can’t?” Franky questions.
“You’ll never know if you can unless you try,” Bridget continues.
“What if I don’t want to?” Franky adds.
“You will cause you’re no coward, Francesca Doyle. And I know you aren’t the type to back down from a challenge. So, I’m giving you the ultimate challenge that will either make or break the way you deal with relationships moving forward.”
“You are a very devious doctor, Ms. Westfall. But ya know what I’ll do ya little challenge. If it backfires, I’m blaming you, Doc.” Franky agrees.
“And I’ll take that blame, and if it works, I’ll take the credit for that, too. Keep me inform.” Bridget ends the call.
Franky sits on the bed for moment just staring at the phone screen, shaking her head. She couldn’t believe or understand the effect this woman had on her. But there was nothing she wouldn’t do for her, and already that scared her, more than anything had ever scared her in life.
Chapter 10: Chapter Ten
Quinn looked over her neck in the bathroom mirror. She was thankful there was no severe bruising caused my Franky’s sudden actions. She’d just finished showering and was about to moisten her skin when a knock on her hotel door interrupts her. She grabs the robe off the door, slips it on and ties it tight.
“Well, isn’t this a surprise?” Quinn asks after opening the door. “Here to choke me out again?”
“I’m here to apologize,” Franky says softly, feeling bad about what she’d done to Quinn after seeing the slight red marks on her neck. “Can I please come in?”
Reluctantly, Quinn steps aside, allowing Franky entrance. She shuts the door and stands midway the floor with her arms folded. “I’m listening,” she said.
Franky pulls the chair out from under the table and sits down with her hand resting under her chin. “Quinn, I know nothing I say can justify what I did. But I am sorry, I never should have put my hands on you like that.”
“Well, why did ya?” Quinn asks locking eyes with Franky.
“I snapped when you came at me like that and disrespected my friend. I have my moments, but I promise if you forgive me, I will never treat you like that again.” Franky reaches her hand out. “Will you come here…please?” Franky begs.
Quinn exhales hard and long unable to resist the urge. She slowly walks over to Franky and takes her hand. Franky pulls her down onto her lap facing forward.
“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful,” Franky compliments.
“Yeah, scars and all I guess,” Quinn jokes.
“You just had to say that, eh?” Franky states with a slight laugh.
“Couldn’t help it,” Quinn admits. “Anyway, I’m glad you came over to apologize. It lets me know you’re not a complete prick.”
“Oh, that’s what you thought I was?” Franky raises her brows.
“For a small second, yeah, I did,” Quinn confesses.
“Wow…okay, guess I deserve that.” Franky shrugs unable to find anyway to argue.
Instead Franky gently holds her chin and kisses her lips softly.
Quinn pulls back and frowns as she gets off Franky’s lap.
“What’s wrong?” Franky asks confused.
Quinn shakes her head defiantly. “Nah, you don’t get to just waltz in here and fuck me like what occurred today didn’t happen. I need more respect from you than that, Francesca.”
Franky stands up and closes the space between she and Quinn. “I know you do, I agree.”
“So, you’re ready to renegotiate this relationship?” Quinn asks.
“Well, I am ready to try…to try being better to you. Can’t promise I’ll be the perfect girlfriend but if you wanna we can see where this lead.” Franky steps back and sits down in the chair.
Quinn stands there thinking hard about Franky’s offer. She flashes back to the altercation downstairs.
“Two conditions,” Quinn finally speaks. She puts her two fingers up. “One no more lying. Even if you’re with another woman I prefer that you be honest and upfront about it. Two no more putting your hands on me. When you have a problem or you’re angry we talk about it.”
“Fair enough,” Franky agrees. “Now drop that robe so I can see that sexy arse body and come over here.”
Quinn doesn’t hesitate. She drops the robe and quickly walks over to Franky. Franky stands up, takes Quinn into her arm and kisses her while running her hands over her breasts. After a few minutes she breaks the kiss, guides Quinn over to the table and lifts her up on it.
Quinn spreads her legs, propping one of them in the chair.
Franky pulls back from Quinn and kneels, then starts kissing her breasts one after the other as she slips two fingers slowly inside of her.
“Um…aahhhh!” Quinn moans.
“You like that?” Franky asks after removing her mouth from her breasts.
Franky holds Quinn’s gaze as she pushes her fingers deeper inside Quinn’s opening and twirls them upward, hitting her G-Spot.
“Feels good, don’t it?” Franky taunts biting her bottom lip. Quinn nods and shuts her eyes. “I need a verbal response, beautiful.” Franky kneels lower, takes Quinn clit into her mouth and rotates the tip of her tongue around it slowly.
“Uuunnnhhhh…yyy…yeah!” Quinn shrieks. “It…it…it feels good, baby!”
Feeling herself being pushed over the edge, Quinn tries to close her legs. Franky grabs that same leg and places it on her shoulders, preventing her from closing them and spreading them wider.
“Cum for me!” Franky requests smiling and not breaking eye contact. She slips another digit in Quinn’s walls and speeds the pace.
“Ffff…Fran…Franky! Ssss…shit…baby, I’m…” Before she can finish the statement, Quinn’s body starts trembling and she grabs ahold of the table as an orgasm erupts through her core.
Franky continues fucking her center and sucking her clit until she’s completely spent and unable to verbally communicate. When she finally comes up for air, Franky holds onto her legs until she regains her strength and is able to get off the table without error.
“Too bad I didn’t bring my bag of toys,” Franky says as she releases Quinn’s legs.
“I…I may have a few goodies in my stash,” Quinn replies still slightly out of breath.
“Is that right?” Franky questions while grabbing her around the waist and helping her down off the table. “Let me find out you be playing with yourself while I’m not around.”
“Is there a crime against that?” Quinn asks.
“Nope, not at all, but next time you get that urge call me instead,” Franky requests. “Now go get them toys.” Franky smacks her ass as she begins to walk away.
Quinn goes over to the closet, unzips one of her suitcases and minutes later comes back out with a pink and white, cordless vibrating wand massager.
“Oh, one of my favorites.” Franky’s eyes light up like fireworks.
She walks over to Quinn and takes it from her hand. “Lay down,” Franky instructs.
Quinn without hesitation, lays down and spreads her legs wide. “For the record it’s one of my favorite toys, too.”
Franky dives right back between Quinn’s legs, puts her legs over her shoulders and turns on the massager. She places it at the top of Quinn’s clit and plunges a finger deep inside her.
“God…geezzzz…ssshit!” Quinn moans instantly. “Uunnhhh! Unh! Unnhhh! Don…don’t stop…pl…please!” Quinn’s moans louder as Franky continues taunting her with the massager and her fingers simultaneously.
It doesn’t take long for Franky to bring Quinn to a screeching, shaking orgasm. She leans up and kisses Quinn passionately while keeping her finger inside of her and adding an extra digit.
“Can I do you now?” Quinn asks once she’s caught her breath.
“Thought you’d never ask,” Franky agrees with a smile flashing her crystal white teeth and dimples.
For the next hour or so, Franky and Quinn take turns pleasing each other with the massager, having back-to-back orgasms, sending each other completely over the edge.
“So, are you staying or going home?” Quinn asks as they lay naked and wrapped in each other’s arms.
“Well, I didn’t bring any extra clothes. I originally came to apologize, then seeing you naked, looking good and smelling even better got me sidetracked,” Franky explains honestly.
“Well, can you stay until I fall asleep?” Quinn requests.
Franky presses her nose against Quinn and nods. “Yeah, I can do that.”
Franky moves behind Quinn and pulls her into her arms, then plants soft butterfly like kisses on the back of her neck.
“I’m glad you came over tonight, Franky. Cause I really like…like…l…l…”
“Quinn, baby what’s wrong?” Franky asks sitting up, looking down at her.
Quinn’s body starts to convulse, shocking Franky. As she watches her twitch and shake, she realizes she’s seizing.
“What the fuck?” Franky asks and quickly drags Quinn onto the floor.
She briefly leaves her to ride the seizure out then dials a number.
Chapter 11: Chapter Eleven
“You’ve reached Lee Radcliffe. I’m not able to come to the phone right now. If this is an emergency, please hang up and dial triple zero. Otherwise please leave a message and I’ll get back with ya at my earliest convenience.”
Franky ends that call. “Damnit, Radcliffe,” she groans watching Quinn still twitching, as worry seeps through her veins more each second. She dials the next number that comes to mind.
The sweet voice picks up after the first ring. “Hello.”
“I need help!” Franky says, her voice shakes with worry.
“What’s wrong, Franky?” She can hear the urgency in her voice.
“How soon can you be at the hotel?” Franky questions.
“I’m actually here now. My brother needed help preparing for his honeymoon. What room number are you in?”
Franky gives Bridget the room number, then ends the call and kneels down to check Quinn’s pulse. Then she realizes they are both still naked. She grabs the comforter off the bed and covers Quinn with it as her seizing continues. Then she grabs the robe Quinn had been wearing earlier and puts it on just in time for a knock to arise at the door.
Franky steps around Quinn and quickly opens the door, allowing her special guest entrance.
“Thank you so much for coming. I ain’t know who else to call,” Franky says.
“No worries,” Bridget replies. “What’s the problem?”
Franky pulls her over to a still twitching Quinn.
Bridget ignores the familiar aroma of sex permeating the air and focuses on Quinn.
“She’s having a seizure,” Franky states the obvious.
“Take this off her and help me turn her on her side,” Bridget instructs as she grabs the blanket.
“She’s naked, Bridget,” Franky informs.
“I know, Franky, but she needs to be on her side, so she doesn’t choke on her own saliva.”
Franky quickly removes the cover and as she kneels next to Bridget, she can’t help but take a whiff of her perfume.
“Jesus, she smells good as fuck,” Franky says to herself, while helping her turn Quinn onto her side.
“What was that?” Bridget asks slightly hearing bits and pieces of what Franky mumbled.
“I said, what’s next? Now what, should I call triple zero?” Franky quickly answers.
“How long has she been seizing?” Bridget asks.
“She started right before I called ya. So, about two minutes give or take,” Franky answers.
“Okay, if it continues past five minutes, we’ll call ‘em. Right now, you just need to be here with her. Don’t hold her down, don’t put nothing in her mouth,” Bridget instructs. “Grab a pillow off the bed.”
Franky quickly moves to grab the pillow off the bed.
“Put it under her head,” Bridget instructs.
Franky does as she’s told.
“Now what?” Franky continues.
“Now we wait, while we wait you can tell me what she was doing before she started seizing,” Bridget request.
“We were uh…we had just finished fucking,” Franky admits breaking eye contact with Bridget. Suddenly feeling like she’d done something wrong.
“Okay, where’s her purse?”
Franky grabs it off the table and hands it to Bridget.
Bridget searches through it and finds a prescription bottle.
Franky instantly wonders why she didn’t see that the day she rambled through her purse to find her I.D. “What the fuck is that?” Franky eyes the large prescription bottle.
“Carbamazepine five times a day, two-hundred milligrams each,” Bridget reads off the prescription bottle. “She has epilepsy. You didn’t know?”
“Nah, not at all. We’ve only known each other a few days,” Franky confesses.
“Her health should have been your main priority,” Bridget adds.
“I’m sorry, damn, I fucked up. I didn’t think she had any health issues. So, I didn’t ask,” Franky continues.
Bridget holds her face gently and gazes into her eyes. “It’s okay, you’ll get there.”
“Get where?” Franky shrugs confused.
“To the point of being considerate of others and not just focusing on yourself. But for what it’s worth, you did right by her tonight. Cause you coulda just left her here and not looked back,” Bridget explains.
Franky eyes tear up. “Will she be, right?”
Bridget looks over at Quinn. She’d slowed down the twitching.
“Yeah, she looks to be coming out of it.” Bridget looks at the gold watch with the red band on her wrist. “Just under three minutes.”
“How do you know all of this?” Franky suddenly becomes curious.
“My brother Brett has epilepsy. I used to help my mom with him all the time. And when he was sixteen, he moved in with me until he graduated high school. I had to take care of him by myself. Luckily, I was already trained on what to do,” Bridget explains.
“Wow, so I did call the right person.” Franky smiles for the first time since Bridget walked into the room. “Beauty and brains! Where have you been all my life?” Franky flirts unable to control herself.
“Don’t start,” Bridget warns with a laugh. “Your girlfriend is going to need you when she wakes up.”
“She’s not my…” Franky pauses remembering she and Quinn’s earlier conversation. “How bad can this get…her seizures I mean?”
“Well, Brett had one so bad once he fell into a coma and stayed in the hospital for two weeks. But that was after a fight and he was punched in the back of the head. So, it all depends on how stressed or overly exerted they are and how they take their meds. My brother would always have them when he missed doses of his medicine,” Bridget explains. “She probably missed doses of hers, that’s more than likely what brought this on and it also depends on how strenuous the sex was.”
“Well, thank you for being here, Bridget. I mean it, I wouldn’t have made it alone or known what to do,” Franky admits.
Bridget grabs her hand gently. “You’re a good woman, Francesca Doyle.”
Franky wipes her tears. “Well, the jury’s still out on that.” Franky smiles and looks over at Quinn.
“You like her, don’t ya?” Bridget smiles.
Franky shrugs. “Honestly, yeah, I think I do. But not as much as I like you.” She holds Bridget’s chin gently, holding her gaze.
Feeling herself become aroused, Bridget backs away and walks over to Quinn.
Quinn had completely stopped twitching and repositioned herself on her back.
“You can put her back into bed and wrap her up, so she doesn’t catch chill. I’ma go so you can tend to her.” Bridget walks toward the door.
“Hold up,” Franky calls out. “I’ll walk you to the elevator,” she offers.
Bridget shakes her head. “No stay here with her. She needs you. She needs you to take care of her until she’s back to normal. She may need an aspirin or Tylenol for the headache when she wakes, but make sure she’s completely alert and if she has excessive strength or memory loss don’t be alarmed, she’ll also be extremely tired.”
“Thank you again, Bridget. I greatly appreciate it.” Franky hugs Bridget.
“You’re welcome, call me if you need me,” Bridget replies. “Now get your girl off that floor.”
Franky holds the door open for Bridget as she exits, then lifts Quinn off the floor into her arms and puts her in bed. She covers her up snugly, then sits on the side of the bed, running her fingers through her hair, afraid to take her eyes off her.
“What the fuck were you thinking, Bridget?” Bridget asks herself as she gets onto the elevator. “Fuck!” she grumbles, pressing the number four on the elevator pad.
She couldn’t get Franky, standing in that robe, glistening in afterglow off her mind. She secretly wished it was her lying naked in that room with Franky, minus the seizure of course.
She silently curses herself all the way back to her brother’s room. She knocks on the door, enters the room and slouches on the couch.
“Where ya been?” Bryan asks.
“Had to see a friend,” Bridget answers.
“Oh, okay.” Bryan shrugs.
“Are you and Hannah all squared away?” Bridget inquires.
“Yeah, we are,” Bryan replies. “Now what’s got you looking like you did when we lost the family dog?”
“Have you ever advised someone then wished you could take it back?” Bridget questions.
Bryan stretches his arms out. “I’ma doctor, hello. Of course, I have. All you can do is see if you can make it right.”
“Yeah, well, too late. If I go back on my word now it’ll make me look jealous or like a hypocrite,” Bridget explains.
“Well, truthfully, sis. The overall fact is that as doctors we try to do the right thing and be perfect but we’re human and we sometimes get it wrong,” Bryan adds.
“Yeah, well I definitely got this wrong,” Bridget admits and loudly exhales.
“Is this about the dark-haired beauty you brought to my wedding?” Bryan inquires.
“Yes, I told her to make it work with someone she was recently involved with, but now…”
“Now you regret it,” Bryan cuts in.
“Exactly, I wish she’d make it work with me. But oh, well, guess I gotta ride this out and see what the end’s gonna be.”
“Or you can tell her the truth. Lying about your feelings doesn’t help either of you in the long run, sis,” Bryan advises.
“Guess we’ll see what happens,” Bridget adds. “Now that you all are squared away, I’ma head home.” Bridget gets up and heads to the door.
“Sis, thanks for all you’ve done for me. Now go out there and get your girl if you really want her,” Bryan concludes.
It is slightly after 10:00 a.m. the next morning when Franky feels Quinn stir next to her. She’d been up watching over her and plotting the events for her next target, while at the same time flipping through the channels on the telly, browsing the different shows. There wasn’t many that grabbed her interest, so she settled on a show called Doctor Doctor, starring the beautiful Nicole da Silva who’d she’d often been told could be her twin. As she watched her, she was inclined to believe that observation and she liked the show. One thing no one, not even Erica knew about her was that she was a sucker for dramas, love stories and soap opera type stories. She could binge watch them all day when she wasn’t fucking or on assignment.
“Welcome back to the land of the living, gorgeous,” Franky says.
Quinn tries to sit up, but a pounding headache prevents her effort. Franky reaches over on the nightstand and grabs the pack of Tylenol that she’d had the hotel clerk bring to the room the previous night. She pops the pack open, pours the two pills in her hand, then grabs the bottle of water that was surprising still at a cool temperature despite being out of the mini-fridge for the past six hours.
“Here take these and sit up a little,” Franky instructs, helping Quinn lean up by placing a hand on the back of her head.
Quinn puts one Tylenol in her mouth and takes a sip of water, using Franky’s assistance, then repeats the same routine with the second Tylenol.
“How ya feeling?” Franky inquires.
“Sore…like I got hit by a bus.” Quinn lightly laughs.
Franky looks down at her with a scowl on her face. “Not funny, you scared the fuck outta me.”
“I’m sorry,” Quinn replies quickly.
“Why you ain’t tell me you have epilepsy?”
“Hum…when exactly was I gonna tell ya?” Quinn shrugs. “While you was face deep in my pussy at the gym, or on the table last night?”
“You coulda text it to me or something, just so I’d be aware,” Franky continues.
“And also, I didn’t know where this union between us was going. I prefer not to expose that side of my life unless I have to, cos folks get weirded out when they know I have that shit. My last girlfriend couldn’t take it, especially after I had a seizure in the bathtub while were being intimate.”
“Damn, that’s fucked up,” Franky adds.
“Yeah, so, anyway she left me.” Quinn sighs hard.
Franky gently holds her face and gazes into her eyes. “Well, she’s a fuckin’ idiot. And for the record I’m not built weak like that. You can tell me anything.”
Quinn blushes. “That’s a changed tone from before and I see I made you break your rule.”
“Not following.” Franky acts confused.
“Not spending the night with women,” Quinn reminds. “You did say that, didn’t ya?”
Franky smirks and nods. “Yeah, I said that. I usually mean what I say. But I couldn’t leave ya seizing and shit on the floor. I’m not a total arsehole, baby girl.”
“So, you do care about me?” Quinn’s eyes light up.
“Yeah, course I do. Matter of fact, I can show ya better than I can tell ya. I had a friend bring me some change of clothes, I called into work to take a couple sick days off for the first time in four years, and now that you’re up and alert. I’ma order us some room service. So, you just relax, love. I’m not going anywhere till I know you’re better.”
“Wow, I feel special,” Quinn replies seriously.
“I gotta quick question though,” Franky adds.
“Okay, ask me anything,” Quinn agrees.
“Some research into this whole epilepsy issue said you most likely missed or skipped your meds. Did ya?” Franky inquires, she didn’t want to tell Quinn that she’d gotten her information from Bridget, especially after their first encounter with each other.
“Well, my doc changed my meds about a week before I met you. Cos the other meds kept making me light-headed. This one made me nausea and gave me stomach cramps, which is common side effects for a short period, but I skipped doses cos I ain’t want my stomach hurting while I was intimate with you,” Quinn explains.
“You idiot,” Franky states. “Look, I know I’ma good root, but don’t let that fuck with your health.” Franky grabs her chin softly and peers into her eyes sternly. “Promise me you’ll never pull a stunt like that again.”
“I promise,” Quinn replies. “But for the record even with my medication I can still have seizures if things get too intense,” Quinn informs.
“Well, from now on we’ll just have to make sure we don’t let it get too intense,” Franky adds.
“No, don’t do me like that. This is why I ain’t wanna tell you,” Quinn admits.
Franky smiles. “Okay, I promise not to treat you different if you promise to take better care of yourself.”
“Deal,” Quinn agrees kissing Franky’s lips.
Franky holds her in her arms and presses their noses together as the kiss becomes long, slow and passionate. Then before either of them can get too heated, Franky pulls away.
“Now let’s get you cleaned up and get some food in ya. How does a long, hot bubble bath sound?” Franky says.
“Like music to my ears,” Quinn responds. “Can we do the bath, then the room service? I think I wanna sleep some more afterwards.”
“Whatever you want, love.” Franky kisses her forehead and gets up, heading for the bathroom.
Happy Mother's Day to all the mothers, grandmothers, aunts, and Godmothers! I say aunts and Godmothers because they too provide a special role in our kids lives and deserve their flowers as well. Hope you all have a blessed, safe and happy day. Spend time with family, kids and enjoy just do something good for yourself.
Chapter 13: Chapter Thirteen
Hours later, Franky awakens from the nap she’d taken to find Quinn not in the bed. Starting to panic, Franky gets out of bed and searches the room. There is no sign of Quinn, just a note by the TV on the dresser.
Franky reads the letter out loud, “Didn’t wanna wake you! I was feeling better, so I stepped out to the gym.”
Franky folds the note and slides it in her back denim jean pocket, she was still in the clothes that she’d put on after she and Quinn’s bath.
Franky grabs the extra key card and exits the room, she takes the elevator down to the lobby, then heads toward the pool and gym area. Seeing Quinn on the treadmill sweating from head to toe, Franky storms through the glass door and over to the treadmill. She snatches the red safety plug instantly stopping the machine and Quinn’s sprints at the same time.
“W…what the fuck…are you doing?” Quinn asks out of breath.
“Should you be doing that?” Franky asks.
“Please don’t start,” Quinn replies. “I’m not an invalid.”
“Research says you need to rest for at least a few days after a seizure,” Franky recalls what Bridget told her.
“Look I appreciate your concern for me, but I’ve dealt with this my whole life. The best way to get back is by picking up my normal routine. Now if that’s a problem for ya, you can go do whatever it is you do. I don’t need a fuckin’ babysitter,” Quinn explains with a frown.
Franky’s face turns red and her eyebrows raise a few notches, then she backs off with her hands up in the air. “Ah, okay.”
“I’m sorry to be so rude. But I need this,” Quinn calms her tone.
“Understood. I need to go home and get ready for work in the morning anyway. And you’re lucky you’re sexy, I don’t normally let people speak to me like that,” Franky reminds.
“I’m aware,” Quinn says stepping off the treadmill. She walks over to Franky and kisses her. “Thank you being here with me. I promise I’m okay. How about lunch tomorrow…my treat?” Quinn smiles.
Franky bites her bottom lip. “Long as I can have dessert later.” Franky eyes roam over Quinn in her tight, work out pants and an Adidas sports bra with sweat glistening over her tattoos and quickly becomes aroused.
“Gotcha,” Quinn agrees.
“Okay, I’ll text you the location. Be careful, take your medicine and rest…promise?”
“Yes, mum.” Quinn laughs.
Franky laughs a little and kisses her slipping her tongue into her mouth. “Um…let me get outta here,” Franky says after breaking the kiss and turns toward the exit.
An hour later, Franky pulls up to the apartment condo complex, she gets out, pulls the dark hoodie over her head and walks toward the door. She rings the bell and waits a few minutes before the door slides open and the young kid appears, with a smile on his brown face.
“Franky!” he greets cheerful and excited. “Figured I’d see ya sooner than later.” Shane Butler has been Franky’s personal informant and tech guy since he was sixteen. At only nineteen years old he was the smartest person Franky knew and loved.
“You got that for me?” Franky asks and pushes her way inside without waiting for an invitation.
Shane shuts the door without a comment. He was used to Franky’s forwardness and never wanted to be the one to spark her wrath. He’s seen what she can do with a gun, a knife, and her fists. So, he felt it was best to steer clear of causing her any animosity.
Franky sits down on the leather couch and watches Shane while he goes over to his desk, Shane grabs a manila folder and hands it to Franky.
“Quinn Carlin, thirty years old, five-six, one-hundred and thirty-two pounds, single, no kids, never married…that’s all I could find on her, beside a bunch of racy internet photos.”
“Well, she models and doesn’t stay in Australia a lot,” Franky explains.
“That explains it, I spent the last few days searching that name. If there’s anything illegal or sketchy about her, you’re not gonna find it under that name. Now is she friend or foe?” Shane looks at Franky arms folded across his chest.
“Right now, we’re looking around the arena of girl…girlfriend,” Franky comments carefully.
Shane smiles wide. “First time I heard that word come outta your mouth since you started banging the lawyer chick.”
“Fuck off, it’s no biggie,” Franky answers waving him off with her hands.
“It is for you,” Shane corrects. “She is pretty hot, I’ll give you that. Don’t blow it.”
“Shut up. Anyway, I’ma need ya help again in a couple weeks. I’m thinking about a house ya know I never stay anywhere longer than six months, it’s been almost nine…time to relocate,” Franky explains.
“I know your M.O. and I gotcha. You know how to reach me. Always a pleasure doing business with ya.” Shane stretches his hand out.
Franky gets off the chair and bypasses his hand, instead she gives him a hug. “Likewise…love ya, kid.” Franky heads toward the door.
“Oi, you left the file!” Shane calls after her, grabbing the folder off the couch.
“Burn it!” Franky instructs still headed for the door.
The Next Morning…
Franky enters the 410-office building, she passes through the lobby, headed straight for the elevators, and presses the number nine. As she gets on the elevator, she receives a text from Quinn.
//: Is lunch still on for today?
Franky texts back.
//: Okay, see ya at noon.
//: Yeah, meet me at Melbourne track and field park.
//: I’ll be there! 😊
Franky turns her phone on vibrate as the elevator reaches her floor. She walks down a long corridor, until she gets to the last door on the left and enters. She passes the front where Doreen sits behind a desk as the receptionist. On the wall behind her, the red fist symbol is in the middle of the wall, with the words RED RIGHT HAND in big, bold red letters above it.
“Just in time,” Doreen says smiling at Franky.
“What’s going on?” Franky asks walking over to Doreen.
“Business meeting, ya know how it goes,” Doreen answers.
“Yeah, I do know,” Franky says.
“Where ya been anyway?” Doreen asks curious.
“Nosy today, eh, Dors?” Franky laughs. “I wasn’t feeling well.”
“Ah, okay, well glad ya better. You know this place doesn’t run smooth without you here,” Doreen replies.
“Don’t I know it,” Franky concludes and turns away from the desk.
She passes the restrooms, the lounge, the Head Mistresses office and then enters the large conference room where all group meetings were held. Sitting around the large square table were all the veteran assassins, Bea, Kaz, Liz, Boomer, Allie, Erica, Kim, Tina, Rita, Juice, Simmo, Brock and so forth. At the smaller round table were the younger assassins in training, Sky, Jess, Ruby, Judy, Reb, Stella, Kosta and some others Franky hadn’t had the chance to get to know yet. At the head of the table was the Head Mistress, the boss, the Head Bitch In Charge, Joan Ferguson.
She stands and stares at Franky with an evil glare. Everyone in the room remains silent and tenses up. Since Ferguson was almost six feet tall, a sword wielding maniac with OCD, who dressed in all black everyday and wore a big bun in the back of her head and what appeared to always a be a permanent scowl on her face, everyone was shit scared of her except Franky, Bea and Kaz…but Franky especially. Although smaller in stature, Franky was a match to Ferguson when it came down to attitude and bravado, not to mention Ferguson was also a lesbian that Franky always thought secretly wanted to fuck her.
“Francesca, nice of you to join us,” Ferguson says with both hands pressed into the table, locking eyes with Franky.
“It’s nice to be seen, Joanie,” Franky comments.
She looks at the large office window and sees the photos of clients who’d paid for their services and targets with huge red Xs on their faces that meant they’d been successfully eliminated. One of the client’s photos had an X over his face, Franky quickly realizes it was the bloke she had to take out with a syringe full of Heroin to the neck as she suffocated him in her car a few nights prior.
“As I was saying our client Jake Collins was found dead in a dark alley, apparently he had a drug overdose. Isn’t that a coincidence? You wouldn’t know anything about that, would ya Franky?” Ferguson says.
Franky takes her regular seat and looks at the photo and shrugs, then looks at Ferguson with a smirk. “Why would I?”
“Okay, well, the money for the hit has been paid, so you can void the mission or…”
“I’m carrying out the mission,” Franky cuts Ferguson off. “Consider this a personal courtesy.”
“Well, you won’t mind doing it for a courtesy fee, then, am I correct?” Ferguson asks.
“Not that fuckin’ courteous,” Franky snaps.
“Didn’t think so,” Joan adds. “Funds have been transferred into your account.”
“I know it has,” Franky remarks. “You know better than to play with my money, Joanie.”
Everyone around the table laughs. They lived for the back-and-forth antics between Joan and Franky. They also admired how Franky always held her own without breaking a sweat.
An hour later, the meeting ends, and Ferguson exits the conference room. Once she’s in her office with the door shut, Kim runs around the table and jumps into Franky’s lap, facing forward, wrapping her arms around her neck.
“Franky!” Kim shrieks. “I missed you.”
Franky gently pats Kim’s ass. “I missed you, too.”
Kim leans in to kiss Franky’s lips, but Franky turns her face away, avoiding the lip lock.
Kim breaths in her hands. “Is it my breath?”
Franky shakes her head with a slight chuckle.
“Well, I’m not sick anymore if that’s your worry,” Kim adds. “The stuff you brought me really help.”
“I’m glad.” Franky smiles. “But I can’t kiss you.”
Kim recognizes the familiar look of rejection in Franky’s green eyes and gets up, then backs away, hands on her hips. “Is it Erica?”
Franky shakes her head. “Nah.”
“Some new bitch?” Kim accuses and Franky nods. “Of course, the one you used the toys with the other night,” Kim continues.
Franky nods not breaking eye contact with Kim.
“Glad you’re finally being honest. Had you done that weeks ago it woulda saved me time waiting for you. I thought it was cos I had the flu, but the truth is no matter what I’ll never be good enough for you and you’ll never choose me. All I am, is a good root to you…a fuckin’ booty call. Good to know.” Kim fusses fighting back tears.
Franky gets up out of the chair and tries to hold Kim, but Kim snatches away and steps back. “Don’t fuckin’ touch me, Franky.”
“You’re making a scene,” Franky reminds as the other assassins tune into their spat.
“Don’t care,” Kim shrugs like a child.
“Look, I’m sorry, Kim. I didn’t mean to hurt ya,” Franky says sincerely.
Kim raises her hands. “Save it. Pull em, fuck em and dispose em, I was told early on that was your motto. Just wish I’d listened. Hope this new woman sees your true colors before you sack her and break her heart.” Kim turns away and storms out of the conference room.
Bea walks over to Franky and pats her on the back. “And she strikes again.”
“If you call me Femme Fatale, Red, I swear to God,” Franky warns.
“Relax, I’m kidding, but you do have a way with women,” Bea concludes.
“Are you coming onto to me, Red?” Franky teases biting her bottom lip.
“You wish,” Bea answers.
“I kinda do,” Franky remarks honestly.
Although Bea was like a mentor to Franky and several years old, that didn’t stop Franky from thinking she was hot, especially with the red curly hair that she wore in a long, pulled back ponytail with it partially shaved into a slight mohawk on the sides. She was fierce and practically the only other assassin Franky deemed a worthy opponent and ally.
“Fuck off, Franky,” Bea jokes with a laugh and pushes Franky playfully. “Even if I was interested, I would not become another notch on your belt.
Franky put both hands on her heart. “Awe, Red, I’m offended,” she jokes.
“You need to spend less time playing the field and get focused…round two is entering the room now,” Bea said.
Franky looks at the conference room door, seeing that Erica had returned from wherever she’d disappeared to after the meeting, and she was speed walking in Franky’s direction.
“Fuck, not again,” Franky mumbles but not low enough to avoid Bea hearing her.
“That’s why you never mix business with pleasure, my young friend,” Bea advises.
Franky smirks. “Red, don’t you have something you should be doing right about now?”
“I’m going, good luck,” Bea answers and walks away.
“Erica?” Franky acknowledges.
“Why haven’t I heard from you?” Erica asks straight to the point.
Franky got straight to the point as well. “I told you I’d call you when I wanted to fuck. I didn’t call so obviously I wasn’t interested, Erica.”
“Come on stop this nonsense,” Erica begs. “I know you miss me.
Franky laughs. “Actually, I don’t, Erica. I mean, believe it or not you’re not that great of a root.”
Erica’ face drops and she stands there speechless.
“Bye, Erica, I have work to do.”
Franky leaves Erica still shocked and slightly embarrassed not knowing how to rebuttal.
Chapter 14: Chapter Fourteen
Franky sits on one of the bleachers at the track and field park waiting. Since the park was within walking distance from the office buildings, Franky leaves her car and walks, then waits for Quinn to pick her up like she swore she would.
Franky had been waiting only a few seconds when the loud engine revving her way grabs her attention. Franky stands there confused until the driver of the fire red Kawasaki motorcycle stops the bike and removes her matching red helmet.
“Quinn…what the…are you crazy?” Franky stumbles over her words.
“I told you the best way for me to get better…” Quinn starts to explain.
“By doing something crazy?” Franky cuts her off.
“Just wanted to do something wild. You gonna get on or stand there worrying?” Quinn asks.
“Move that arse over, I’m driving,” Franky orders.
Quinn gets off the bike, hands Franky the extra red helmet and waits until she gets on then climbs behind Franky and wraps her arms tight around her waist.
As they drive off neither notices the set of eyes watching them and snapping pictures.
A few minutes later, Franky pulls into the car park of Bleu Café and Cuisine.
“You are a piece of work,” Franky says to Quinn as she sips her glass of fine red wine.
“You are too, Francesca and you’re not as hard as you portray to be. Your concern for me is evidence of that,” Quinn says reaching for her hand and holding it.
“Nah, I promised you I’d be kinder and I’m sticking to that promise, but please don’t ever take my kindness for weakness,” Franky advises.
“No worries, I never will,” Quinn responds.
“Anyway, I gotta tell ya, you’re so fuckin’ sexy today,” Franky compliments.
“Don’t start flirting with me. I’d like to eat before…”
“Before what?” Franky cuts her off again, then kisses the back of her hand. “Before I bend you over this table and eat you out from the back,” Franky teases making stern eye contact.
Quinn feels a twinge between her legs and crosses them under the table. “Cut…cut it out,” Quinn stutters.
“Are you gettin’ heated, love?” Franky asks with a coy smile.
“You are so fuckin’ bad,” Quinn continues, feeling her pussy get wet.
“I am and you love it,” Franky adds.
“G’day, mates, what can I get for you today?” the female waitress says, standing at the table with bright eyes, looking directly at Franky.
“I’ll have the caramelized onions, roasted eggplant and tomato, mushroom Penne with garlic bread, and your house salad,” Franky says.
“I’ll have what she’s having,” Quinn adds.
“Okay.” The waitress smiles and takes the menus. “Would you like a refill?” she asks.
“Water is fine we have to get back to work,” Franky answers.
“Coming right up,” The waitress replies and walks away.
“I think I’m falling in love with you,” Quinn says after the waitress is out of sight.
Franky smiles and looks directly into Quinn’s eyes. “I see how ya might feel that way, but we gotta take things one step at a time, love. I like you and one day who knows…” Franky shrugs.
“I’m not expecting you to return the gesture today, but I had to let you know before we part ways,” Quinn continues.
Franky not knowing what else to say leans over the table and kisses Quinn’s lips. As she sits back down, she breathes a sigh of relief, seeing the waitress coming with their waters.
Franky and Quinn have brief conversation while they wait for their food. Once their food arrives, they flash smiles to each other often between the meal.
“This has been nice,” Franky says as she finishes. “I don’t usually eat at restaurants during lunch, mainly take out or pizza, or a cold sandwich,” Franky admits.
“Well, glad I can give you a change of scenery,” Quinn states.
“Me too. Now, I’ma leave the tip, you pay the ticket and meet me in the ladies room.” Franky gets up and pulls a twenty-dollar bill from her back pocket, then places it on the table, and walks away before Quinn can decline her invitation.
Franky enters the bathroom, luckily there is a couch already provided for added relaxation. When Quinn finally walks in, Franky steps behind her and locks the bathroom door. Then eases Quinn over to the arm of the couch.
“Unbutton your pants and slide them down,” Franky whispers into Quinn's ear then bites her earlobe just hard enough to send shivers through her spine.
“Is that an order or a request?” Quinn asks looking back at Franky seductively.
“That’s an order, sexy,” Franky comments, grabbing her breasts and squeezing her nipples.
Quinn slowly unbuttons her jeans as Franky caresses both of Quinn’s breasts while now biting on the back of her neck.
“Um…” Quinn moans, feeling her hands start to tremble with anticipation.
Becoming impatient Franky helps her slide her jeans down to her shoes, then bends her over and snatches off her black silk panties. Franky spreads her ass cheeks wide and slips two fingers in her pussy slowly slamming them upward hitting her G-spot.
“Unhhh!” Quinn moans a little louder.
Franky bites into her neck and tweaks her breast nipples with one hand as her fingers plunge deep and hard inside Quinn’s juices with the other hand.
Quinn starts slowly moving her body so that she’s twirling her pelvis on Franky’s fingers. Franky pauses the tease on her nipples and grabs her waist stalling her movements. Then she removes her fingers and leans down under Quinn taking her clit into her mouth and twirling the tip of her tongue over it, soft and gentle.
“I love you!” Quinn moans still gyrating her hips on Franky’s tongue.
Franky pauses long enough to respond, “I know you do, now show me how much and cum for me.”
After their rendezvous in the bathroom, Quinn drops Franky back off at the track and field park. Then she arrives at the Melbourne Cemetery, she walks over to the mausoleum and steps inside one with the name BARKSDALE in big, bold gold letters over the top.
A man dressed in black slacks, a leather jacket, and a black Fedora hat, rubs his hand over a grave on the wall that reads:
May 31, 1994-August 29, 2016
Loving Son, Brother, Father & Decorated Hero
Will Forever Be Missed
“My youngest and only brother was killed on the job. Did I ever tell you that?” the man asks as soon as Quinn enters the doors.
“Nah, you didn’t,” Quinn answers.
“Well, I’m telling you now,” the man continues.
“Okay, what does this have to do with this meeting?” Quinn questions sitting down on the benches inside the mausoleum.
“Mark was undercover, trying to take down a drug reign. He was working alongside a dealer who had a meeting with a connect from Singapore. No one knew that the dealer’s partner had put a hit out on him and the connect. As the deal was going down the warehouse was engulfed in flames…blown up to oblivion. My brother and everyone inside the warehouse died. My brother was burned to a crisp, we buried a casket that only had a burned skull and a few scattered and torched remains. When I questioned people about that explosion, I was told it was a contract hit. So, I started asking around about contract killers and one name came up…”
“The Red Right Hand,” Quinn completes the sentence.
The man turns from the tomb and looks at Quinn. “I sent you undercover to investigate The Red Right Hand not to fall in love with the lead killer of the organization.” The man’s face flushes red.
“Elliot, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Quinn lies.
Elliot Barksdale stands 6’2, with green eyes and brunette hair that was obvious from his goatee beard and eyebrows.
“You told me to find a woman in the organization to get close to. That’s what I did,” Quinn responds.
“Yeah, but I said nothing about fucking her.” Elliot fusses.
“How else would a lesbian get close to another lesbian?” Quinn shrugs. “But for the record, I have been with Franky for the past few days and detected nothing that confirms she’s a killer.”
“What did she say she does for a living?” Elliot asks.
“She’s an exterminator,” Quinn replies.
“Exterminator…” Elliot laughs. “You can’t be this fuckin’ naïve or are you just pussy whipped? Whatever your problem is Cartwright pull your head outta Francesca Doyle’s pussy and get your mind right. I will not let a case I have been building for two years be fucked cos you got butterflies in your stomach and stars in your eyes.”
“Well, Elliot, if you had anything on Franky or The Red Right Hand by now, she’d be closer to going to prison. Since you don’t I think maybe we’re on a witch hunt,” Quinn responds.
“Two years ago, I had a young rookie cop undercover with The Red Right Hand. She was almost close enough to getting the truth on Franky Doyle and bringing down the entire organization,” Elliot explains. “She fucked Franky, too. That bitch must have gold plated fingers and a platinum tongue.”
“So, what happened to her?” Quinn asks.
“She was discovered, the organization became outraged, the next thing I know she was washed up on the beach shore an hour away from here. Her body had been so badly beaten she was unrecognizable, and her tongue and eyes had been cut out while she was still alive the coroner said. But no evidence led to her killer to this day.”
“So, she could have been killed by anyone?” Quinn adds.
“You better hope so, cause if not you’re dealing with not only a contract killer but a psycho as well,” Elliot continues. “And God help you if that’s the case and your new love interest ever gets suspicious. Next time you’re with her, ask her about Jodie Spiteri. Until then do something useful for this case instead of just fucking the woman we’re investigating.”
“You mean the woman I’m investigating,” Quinn corrects. “When I have something, if I have something, I’ll let you know.”
“Well, you’re not gonna find it boo’d up in your hotel room. Get her to trust you enough to bring you to her house or her work sight. Get as close as you can to her. So, I guess you have a point about the sex. Keep doing it but be smart about it and be safe. If I need to pull you out let me know. I don’t wanna find your body washed up on some beach shore a few weeks from now.”
“I’m not worried about that. Franky is harmless and I can take care of myself,” Quinn concludes, then gets up and heads for the exits.
“Detective, just keep in mind that the last message Jodie Spiteri received before she was tortured and mutilated was see no evil…speak no evil,” Elliot warns.
Chapter 15: Chapter Fifteen
Quinn leaves the Cemetery with a lot of thoughts on her mind. The first thing she does when she returns to the hotel is Google the name Jodie Spiteri, her murder file came up and just as Elliot said, she was tortured and had her tongue and eyes cut out. Quinn sits on the bed with tears in her eyes, not believing what she was reading or that Franky was capable of doing something so heartless and ruthless.
After leaving The Red Right Hand’s office, Franky goes to the floral shop and scans the different assortment of flowers. She rubs her hand through her hair, confused since she’d never brought flowers before. She pulls her phone from her pocket and sends a text.
//: Do ya like flowers?
She keeps looking as she waits for a response that comes back quickly, a photo is her quick response, it is of white lilies.
Franky smiles and walks over to the area where the flowers that looked exactly like the ones in the photo were located.
//: No worries. Just asking!
A text of a smiley face and heart eyes emoji follows.
Franky purchases a large bouquet of lilies then drives to the address she’d pulled up earlier that morning.
Franky enters the doors of Life Solutions Family Therapy Medicine. She heads over to the receptionist’s desk.
“How can I help you?” the female receptionist asks while on the phone.
“Looking for Bridget Westfall,” Franky replies.
“Take the elevator to the second floor, it’s the first office on the left, when you get off,” the receptionist says never getting off the phone or looking up at Franky.
Franky follows the receptionist’s instructions, when she gets to the door, she sees Bridget through the glass door on the computer. Franky knocks on the glass, instantly grabbing her attention.
Bridget’s face lights up and she jumps out of the leather desk chair and hurries over to the door.
“Oh, my God!” Bridget shrieks. “What are you doing here?” She looks at the large bouquet in Franky’s hand. “Those are beautiful, are they for me?”
“I don’t go outta the way to buy flowers for just anyone, so yeah.” Franky nods and passes them to Bridget. “I wanted to apologize for the other night.”
“Come in,” Bridget offers.
Franky enters the room and takes a seat in the first comfy chair. Bridget shuts the door and pulls down the curtain.
“How did you find out where I work?” Bridget asks.
“You’re not exactly discreet on your social media or your website, Gidget,” Franky informs.
Bridget nods, realizing she’s telling the truth. “So, you said you wanted to apologize?”
“About the other night,” Franky repeats. “I saw how uncomfortable you seemed helping me at the hotel with Quinn,” Franky recalls.
“Franky, you don’t have to apologize for that. I helped you, cos I wanted to,” Bridget says, placing the flowers on the desk.
“And I’m apologizing because I want to. Now, tell me what you’ve been up to, Ms. Westfall?”
Bridget raises her arms and looks around. “Just working and living,” she replies.
“Living, eh?” Franky stands up and closes the space between them, then caresses Bridget’s face. “You’d be living better with me in your life…we both would be.”
Bridget shivers as she becomes transfixed locking Franky’s gaze and enjoying the warmth and gentleness of her touch. She backs away and goes around the desk, sits down, and crosses her legs.
“Too heated for ya, Gidget?” Franky teases.
“A little,” Bridget admits. “So, how are things with Quinn? How is Quinn?”
Franky shakes her head. “Wow, I’m trying to woo you and you’re asking me about another woman.”
“Not just another woman,” Bridget corrects. “Your woman, remember.”
“Okay, you got me there,” Franky confesses. “But she wouldn’t be my woman had you not pushed me into her arms.”
“And how’s it going?” Bridget asks making direct eye contact with Franky.
“Well, she told me she loves me today,” Franky recalls.
“Do you love her?” Bridget asks.
Franky shrugs. “She’s hot and I like her…but love…hard thing to process, especially when I have conflicted feelings for another woman.” Franky flashes a smile exposing all of her dimples.
“I get that,” Bridget says. “If you don’t love her, be careful being intimate with her cos continuing to do so will only increase those feelings.”
“So, what should I do?” Franky questions. “Say, I love her when I’m not sure that I do? And sexually deprive myself while I sort it all out?”
“I’m not saying that, just be careful,” Bridget warns again.
“I wouldn’t need to be careful if you’d stop playing around and just be my girl,” Franky states.
Bridget smiles. “I’m flattered, Ms. Doyle, but not yet, not like this.”
“Yeah…yeah, I know.” Franky gets out of the chair and walks around Bridget’s desk.
Franky spins Bridget’s desk chair facing her and places both hands on the arm rest.
“We’re not here to talk about Quinn. I came here to talk about you. Let’s talk about how your face flushes every time our eyes connect. Or how about how you get chills every time I touch you? Or maybe how you crossed your legs just now when I got close. I know those gestures Bridget and I know what they mean.” Franky bites her bottom lip.
Bridget laughs softly. “Franky…please!”
“How about that lipstick, you’re wearing? It’s a different shade then the last few times I saw you. How does it taste?” Franky teases.
“You really know how to lay it on thick?” Bridget says.
“How about you find out first-hand?” Franky offers.
Bridget swallows the lump in her throat and shifts her crossed legs.
Franky backs away. “Let me lay off before I have to apologize for something else or get accused of sexual harassment.”
“I wouldn’t do that to you,” Bridget confirms. “But I do appreciate your will to suppress your urges cos…”
“Cos it’s too much for ya to handle,” Franky cuts her off and holds that pretty smile. “You have no idea how fuckin’ bad I want you, do ya?”
“I have an idea,” Bridget replies. “And when the time is right, if it’s meant to be, we’ll both know it.”
Franky kisses Bridget’s forehead. “Enjoy your flowers, Spunky and don’t work too hard.”
Back at Franky’s apartment complex, she pulls into the car park and sees Kim standing by her car with her arms folded.
“Not again,” Franky says as she approaches Kim. “How long you been waiting here?”
“Not long, didn’t think you’d be too concerned,” Kim snaps. “I just came to collect the rest of my things that I left here.”
“Alright, come on,” Franky agrees.
Franky opens the door and allows Kim to enter. As Kim rushes around collecting her clothes, shoes, undies, toys and personal hygiene products, the silence is deafening. As she heads for the front door, Franky gently grabs her arm.
“Kim, I’m sorry. I’m just falling in love with someone else. I don’t know how or when it happened…it just did,” Franky explains. “You know I never let myself go there, but I’m tryna be a better person…better woman,” Franky continues.
Kim nods. “Never thought I’d hear that. Just wish you coulda chosen to be a better woman with me.”
“I know and like I said, I’m sorry.”
Kim exits the apartment with tears in her eyes.
After Kim was gone, Franky locks the doors and sends Shane a text.
//: Will be finding a new place this week. Need my arsenal in the apartment knocked out and rebuilt in my new house. Will text you the date of the move.
//: Just say when and where…I’m there! Shane replies.
Franky made a mental note to not give anyone her new address in order to avoid surprise visits from scorn ex-lovers.
Franky showers and changes into all black, then she presses the combination, opens her arsenal, and removes the suitcase that contains her most powerful new toy.
Chapter 16: Chapter Sixteen
Franky eases up onto the roof top, kneels and lays the suitcase flat on the roof’s surface. She removes each piece and attaches her high powered, precision sniper rifle with the sniper scope that allows her to see her target and the impact once the bullets exit the rifle and hits its mark. Although it had an internal magazine of thirty rounds, Franky only needed two.
She sets the sniper rifle onto the roof’s ledge and looks at the time on her stopwatch. It had hit 10:32 p.m. on the dot, she’d watched the couple enough to know their routine. Every night at this time the wife loads the dishwasher while the husband takes the Pomeranian out for a final bathroom break. Franky presses the timer starting the stopwatch, then looks into the scope, just like magic she sees the target.
“Right where I need ya,” Franky says out loud.
Franky waits until the man kneels to take the dog off the purple leash, then places her finger on the trigger and presses it, while never taking her eyes away from the scope. A single shot to the back of the head, splits his cranium like a busted watermelon, blood and brains splatter all over the dog and the lawn. Without blinking, Franky moves the gun to the left and presses the trigger again hitting her second target through the window. One shot straight through the woman’s forehead sends her to the floor, with bloods and brains gushing out.
Franky smiles as she looks at the stopwatch, it reads: 0.0042, she’d eliminated targets 233 and 234 in under sixty seconds like she wanted. She quickly disables her gun, puts it back in the suitcase, packs it up and disappears off the roof undetected and out of sight through the woods behind the office building. She’d parked on the other side of the woods to keep any neighbors from seeing her car in the car park that way there were no witnesses. Thankfully, the neighborhood was like a ghost town that time of night, people were tucked away in their fancy homes, never thinking anything bad would or could happen to them.
Once back in her apartment, Franky sheds her clothes and discards them in a garbage bag along with the gloves she’d worn. She puts the sniper rifle suitcase back in her arsenal and heads for the shower.
After she finishes her shower and is about to sort through her drawer for something to wear, her cell phone vibrates alerting her of a text.
Franky grabs her phone off the bed and pulls up the text from Quinn.
//: Need to see you. How about a night cap at your place?
Franky smirks after reading the text aloud. Franky thinks about it, unsure what to do she dials a number.
“Hello,” the voice answers sounding strange, almost slurred.
“Gidget, did I wake ya?” Franky asks noticing the distress in her voice.
“Nah, I’m…I’m out,” Bridget slurs.
“Where are you?” Franky asks. Because she grew up with a drunk mum, she knew the sound of someone intoxicated.
“At a diner…bar…shit…” Bridget laughs.
Franky pulls up Shane’s number and texts him Bridget’s number.
//: Need a location for this number ASAP. Like yesterday.
//: Coming right up.
As Franky waits for Shane’s text, she hurriedly finds something to wear. She throws on a pair of sweatpants, socks, sneakers and a zipped-up hoodie with no bra or shirt underneath. She grabs her keys and heads out, keeping the phone on even though Bridget had stopped talking, Franky could hear her breathing and the background noise surrounding her. More than likely she was at a bar.
As Franky pulls out of the car park to her apartment, she gets the text from Shane pinpointing Bridget’s exact location. Franky pulls into the car park of Munch’s Bar and Night Club just minutes later.
She receives another text from Quinn. //: So, is that a yes or no?
Franky texts Quinn back. //: Kinda tired…can’t tonight. I’ll make it up to ya, promise!
//: Okay, I will hold ya to that. I love you! Quinn replies.
Franky rubs the brim of her nose not sure what to reply back. Instead, she just texts her a beating heart and smiley face emoji.
She puts her phone on the charger and exits the car. When she enters the bar, her eyes scan the vicinity and lands on Bridget with her head resting on the bar’s counter.
“Are you here to take her home?” the female bartender behind the counter questions as Franky approaches Bridget. The bartender was a brunette with brown eyes.
“Yes, how many did she have?” Franky lifts Bridget off the stool onto her feet and holds her secure and tight.
“About five…six…can’t remember. I took over a shift, she was here when I arrived,” the bartender says. “She was knocking ‘em back, coulda been more. I wasn’t sure what to do, I was gonna let her lay here and sleep it off.”
“No need, I got it from here. Oi, did she say anything?” Franky inquires.
“She rambled something about love and it being her fault,” the woman states.
“Ah, Gidge,” Franky says.
Bridget looks up at Franky, recognizing her barely. “You…you came,” she slurred.
“Yep, I did,” Franky answers leaning her head back not liking the smell of alcohol on Bridget’s breath. “I’m getting you outta here, babe.”
As Franky guides Bridget out to her car, Bridget kneels over and vomits in the car park. As she does, Franky holds her steady with one hand and keeps her hair out of her face with the other. Once she finishes spewing, Franky puts her in the passenger seat of the car.
Back at Franky’s place, Franky lays Bridget down on the end of the bed and starts undressing her, starting with her shoes. As she gets to Bridget’s jeans and starts undoing her belt buckle, Bridget looks at her and smiles.
“You…you trying to…to root me?” Bridget slurs barely above a whisper.
Franky shakes her head. “Nah, she answers.
Despite the strong sexual urges bubbling inside of her at that moment, it was always a rule for Franky to never fuck a woman under the influence for two very important reasons. One because she never wanted a woman to feel as if she took advantage of them. She’d been on the receiving end of her mum’s wrath several mornings after she awoke from an intoxicated state, realized she’d had sex and was unsure who the bloke was. She could remember many days being violently dragged behind her mum as she marched on foot to the free clinic to get tested for diseases and to make sure she wasn’t pregnant with another child that she’d hate. Reason number two was because when she fucked a woman, she wanted them to remember every touch, kiss and stroke she blessed their bodies with.
Finally, naked, Franky lets Bridget lay there while she puts Bridget’s clothes in the washer. Then she runs her bath water, with Shea Butter and Coconut scented bubbles.
“It was all my fault,” Bridget mumbles as Franky lifts her off the bed and escorts her to the bathroom. Franky don’t need much strength to lift her into the tub of water and bubbles.
“Ssshhh…it’s okay, Bridget,” Franky tells her, caressing her face.
“Are you gonna…gonna fuck me?” Bridget asks again.
“You are really pissed, eh?” Franky kisses Bridget’s forehead. “Just relax and let me take care of you.”
Franky looks at Bridget with affection and passion as she starts slowly running water and bubbles over her smooth cream skin with the white cloth.
“You are fuckin’ beautiful.” Franky slowly kisses her shoulders. “And skin so soft.” She kisses her neck, then her lips.
Bridget rests her head on the back of Franky’s tub and enjoys the feel of the water and Franky’s touch, as she closes her eyes and starts nodding off to sleep.
About fifteen minutes later, Franky lifts Bridget out of the tub and dries her off. Now seeing Bridget in all her glory really has Franky’s arousal steering. She exhales deeply and turns her neck to the right then to the left, snapping the muscles in it as she fights even harder than before to keep her arousal under control while she moisturizes Bridget’s skin, then dresses her in a pair of pajamas and a large t-shirt. Franky puts her in the bed, covers her up, climbs in behind her, and cradles her tight while inhaling the scent of her skin.
“For the record, pretty lady, I love you too,” Franky whispers in her ear.
Franky was torn between hoping Bridget heard her words and being glad that she’d probably more than likely not recall those same words when she awoke and was sober again.
Chapter 17: Chapter Seventeen
Sorry for the delay, my daughter had finals the past week and May 31st was my birthday so I got sidetrack on the release. Anyway hope you all enjoy! I appreciate every last one of you and your support!
Erica walks into the office of her friend Laurence Wilkes, he was a private investigator who was once a lawyer at his parent’s firm until he decided to go into business for himself.
Erica approaches the receptionist desk. “I’m here to see Laurence Wilkes,” Erica says to the brunette receptionist.
The receptionist takes one look at Erica and recognizes her. “Go on back, Ms. Davidson.”
“Thank you,” Erica tells the receptionist and heads back toward Laurence’s office.
As she enters Laurence’s office, he gets up from behind the desk and greets her with a big hug while purposely pressing his sudden hard-on into her crotch.
“Erica, what do I owe the pleasure?” Laurence was about six-two, olive colored skin, with short cut, low trimmed, dirty blonde hair and icy blue eyes.
“First, you can back up off me.” Erica tries to wiggle out of his embrace.
Laurence backs away from Erica with both hands raised. “I see ya still wearing that engagement ring. So, you and Mark still going strong or is it someone else now? You know I can never keep up with your random love affairs.”
“We’re still together, Laurence. Now as I told you on the phone last night. I need a favor. So, are you going to help me or not?” Erica snaps, getting an attitude.
“What exactly is it that you need?” Laurence finally speaks in a more serious tone.
“I need information on someone,” Erica says and goes into her purse to grab her phone.
“Do you have a name?”
“No, but I do have pictures,” Erica replies.
“And what exactly do I get outta this?” Laurence smiles deviously.
Erica reaches into her purse and pulls out a wad of money that was folded with a gold money clip. “I knew you’d ask that.” She tosses the cash onto the desk. “Are you gonna help me or not? Cos, our days of fuckin’ been over.” Erica puts her hand on her hips.
“Alright text me the pictures. I need to run a facial recognition through my computer tech equipment,” Laurence says, then grabs the money and counts it out one bill at a time. “I’ll have the info you need by the end of the day. Meet me at our special spot, I’m sure you remember where it is?”
“Nah, meet me at Melbourne Dog park,” Erica instructs.
“You got a dog now?” Laurence shrugs.
“No, but that is the least suspicious place that I am willing to meet ya arse at. And they ain’t got no fuckin’ cameras out there,” Erica explains.
“Gotcha.” Laurence nods.
Erica turns to exit the office.
“By the way, Erica if you ever need a reminder of the good times…the good sex we had, I reckon you know how to reach me?” Laurence calls after her.
Erica throws her middle finger in her air without turning back to him. “Fuck you, Laurence. You better get my information. Bye!”
Franky stands at her granite kitchen counter, wearing red camouflaged boxer shorts and a red sports bra. She takes fresh pineapple and ginger root, mint leaves, and coconut water out of the refrigerator. She puts crushed ice from the refrigerator into the blender, then peels the pineapple and cuts its into small chunks and tosses it into the blender. She cuts a few pieces of the ginger root, peels it and cuts it smaller, then tosses it into the blender.
She grabs two bananas out of the fruit bowl on the other counter. She peels the bananas, cuts them into small slices and tosses them into the blender. Lastly, she drops a few mint leaves in the blender, a few drops of honey and two measuring cups full of coconut water and blends it all together for a full minute. Once it’s ready, Franky pours the smoothie into a glass and grabs a straw.
A whirling sound awakes Bridget from her drunken slumber. She sits up and before it can register that she’s in strange territory, a feeling rush over her. She looks around and sees a trash bin next to her side of the bed. She leans over and lets everything out into the trash bin.
Just as she lifts her head from spewing, Franky enters the bedroom carrying the glass.
“Was gonna ask how ya feeling? Guess I got my answer,” Franky says making eye contact with Bridget’s beautiful blues. Franky walks over to the bed and sits down on the end of the bed. “Here drink this, it’ll help with your hangover headaches…vomiting…and all that shit.”
“What is it?” Bridget inquires with her nose scrunched.
“Don’t worry about it, just drink it, Gidge,” Franky says with a little more authority in her tone.
“Okay, bossy,” Bridget says taking the glass. As she takes a sip of the drink, the frown on her face, quickly turns into a slight smile. “Not bad, I taste banana and pineapple.”
“And ginger, honey, mint and coconut water,” Franky confirms.
“Where you learn to make this?” Bridget stares at her.
“We’ll get to that later, right now, though I need to know how long you been drinking like this?” Franky folds her arms and eyes Bridget sternly.
“Not long…” Bridget starts and stops.
Franky smirks not convinced. “Don’t fuckin’ lie to my face.”
Bridget can see that Franky is serious from the scowl on her face and the way her eyes changed from the bright, vibrant green to the cold and menacing green.
“I’m not an alcoholic, Franky,” Bridget defends as she takes another drink from the straw of the smoothie.
“I didn’t say you were an alcoholic,” Franky corrects. “But last night you were pretty tanked,” Franky informs.
“How’d ya find me anyway?” Bridget asks.
“I called you to talk about something, but you were so out of it you couldn’t even hold a conversation. So, I drove around looking for ya until I found you. I ain’t want you driving so I brought ya here to my place,” Franky explains leaving out Shane’s involvement cause that would have led to more questions about her job description.
“I’m sorry you had to do that,” Bridget apologizes with sadness in her eyes.
Franky shakes her head. “Nah, I don’t mind being the white knight saving your pretty arse. That’s why I asked, how often does this happen? And don’t lie cos when we met, you were tanked. So, that leads me to believe that this is a regular occurrence.” Franky shrugs.
“I don’t always get fucked up drunk like I was last night or the night of my brother’s wedding. I do, however, have a glass or two of wine after work…”
“Every night?” Franky asks.
“Probably three nights a week or so,” Bridget explains now as shame floods her face.
Franky nods. “Okay.”
“Is that a problem for you?” Bridget asks seriously as she finishes the drink.
Franky rubs her hand through her hair and holds Bridget’s gaze. “Ya know I told ya my mum was abusive. But I’m not sure if I told ya that she was an alcoholic. She did drugs and shit, too. But it was when she was tanked that she did all kinds of fucked up shit to me including these…” Franky stands and for the first time Bridget notices her toned, muscular, tatted physique.
“Damn…” Bridget let’s slip and bites her lip, as her eyes roam over the tattoos on her arms and down to the full torso tattoo.
“What’s that?” Bridget questions unable to take her eyes off Franky’s stomach. She appreciates Franky’s perfectly, muscular stomach.
“It’s a cherry blossom tattoo. That’s why I stood up to show ya. I chose to get this tattoo to hide the burns that cover my abdomen. Every time mum got tanked, she’d burn me with her lit cigarettes until I wailed out with tears and had permanent scars. Ya know I can still smell that shit sometimes…” Franky pauses and exhales, trying to fight back the tears forming in her eyes.
“I’m sorry you had to go through that, Francesca,” Bridget says sadly.
“Nah, don’t feel sorry for me,” Franky corrects. “Cos, I worked hard to overcome that shit. But I still have fucked up memories and I hate knowing that someone as beautiful as you drink that shit.”
“It’s not an excuse but my job is stressful then I come to an empty house every night,” Bridget confesses. “And I take a few drinks to compensate.”
“I get that shit. We all have fucked up shit to deal with. But you gotta find more positive ways to deal with it. Like me I fuck, and smoke weed. For a while until I met you, I didn’t realize how much my sexcapades were hurting women. I’m working hard to change that, but I still hit the weed from time to time. Anyway, the moral of the story, you gotta find a balance, babe. I don’t want nothing to happen to you and if we were to someday have a future, I can’t have a drunk for a partner.” Franky holds her gaze seriously.
“So, what ya need me to do?” Bridget questions seriously.
“The same way you’re testing me by pushing me on Quinn. Who I really like by the way. So, thanks for that. Anyway, I gotta test for you,” Franky proposes.
“I’m scared to ask what it is,” Bridget admits.
“They say it takes thirty days to break something. So, I challenge you to go the next thirty days without a drink or at least cut it down to one drink a week,” Franky says.
“Can I think about it?” Bridget requests sitting the now empty glass on the nightstand next to the bed.
“You didn’t give me time to think, did ya?” Franky reminds.
“Fair enough,” Bridget agrees.
Franky moves closer to Bridget and holds her hand. “You are too beautiful, smart and important to me to be doing that shit. And I don’t want anything to happen to you, that’s the truth. If we’re really being upfront on shit, I’m falling for you…I been falling for you since the day we met in that elevator.”
Bridget exhales and instead of responding she leans in and kisses Franky’s lip. Thankfully, the smoothie masked the taste of vomit that would have normally been on her breathe. Franky lays Bridget back, grabs a hold of her neck and holds her gaze. Fire instantly sparks inside Bridget then her heart races and her pussy get wet as she and Franky kisses passionately. While continuing to kiss her, Franky slides her other hand into Bridget’s pajamas, she slides two fingers inside Bridget’s warm and wet center, causing Bridget to close her eyes and release a pleasurable moan.
Chapter 18: Chapter Eighteen
Franky fingers Bridget hard and deep as their tongues wrestle and they kiss passionately.
“Uunnhhh!” Bridget moans after breaking the kiss and starts gyrating her pelvis to the motion of Franky’s fingers. “God…sss…” Fire erupts through her veins and her legs start shaking.
Just as Bridget is on the verge of reaching her peak, Franky removes her hand off Bridget’s neck, stops kissing her and takes her hand out of her pajamas.
Bridget looks up at her panting uncontrollably.
Franky stands up and looks at Bridget with a smirk.
“W…why…why’d you stop?” Bridget asks as tears fill her eyes.
“I gotta girlfriend, remember?” Franky replies with a sly grin.
“Wow…” Bridget says shaking her head. “That is so unfair.”
Franky shrugs. “Well, you wanted me to be with her.”
“Yeah, you’re right I did.” Bridget reluctantly admits. “But is it wrong for me to admit that I want you so bad, right now?”
“Nah, it’s not wrong,” Franky answer. “But if we acted on it that would be wrong. Because even though you say you want me, you’d never let me live it down if I cheated on my girl. And eventually you’d throw it back in my face.”
“Damn, what can I say to that?” Bridget says realizing Franky was right.
“Well, like you always say if it’s meant to be, it will be. We just have to wait it out,” Franky responds. “I’m trying to do right for a change. And you have no fuckin’ idea how hard that is, especially with your sexy arse in my bed right now.”
“So, now what?” Bridget asks.
“I can give you a ride back to your car,” Franky offers.
“I guess we can do that,” Bridget says. “But after the way you touched me, I have a feeling I’ma be fucked up all day…shit all week.”
“Sorry for that, but eh, you started kissing me first,” Franky reminds.
Bridget nods. “That’s right I did, and I don’t regret it.”
“You’re gonna make me have to put hands on my girlfriend again,” Franky jokes. “If she finds out you spent the night with me and you’ve been kissing all over me and shit, she’s gonna arc up,” Franky explains.
“You better keep your hands to yourself, Franky,” Bridget instructs.
“I know, I know, I was just joking about that part. I learned my lesson last time. But seriously I do need to go see her.”
“Okay, I’m ready whenever you are,” Bridget replies.
“Let me grab your clothes,” Franky says and steps out of the room.
She walks into the living room and grabs Bridget’s clothes off the couch. She’d washed, dried and ironed them.
“Here you are, princess,” Franky teases placing the clothes on the bed next to her.
Bridget gets out of bed and grabs her clothes, as she’s about to walk toward the bathroom, Franky calls out to her.
“Oi! You ain’t gotta hide from me,” Franky teases looking at Bridget with lust filled eyes.
“Well, unless you’re trying to finish what we started, I suggest you let me go handle my business,” Bridget replies.
“Point taken,” Franky agrees. “Go get dressed, Spunky. I’ma pack a few more boxes while I wait.”
“What’s with the boxes anyway?” Bridget questions.
“I’m moving soon, my lease is almost up,” Franky replies.
“Where are you looking to move?” Bridget inquires.
“Not sure yet, somewhere quieter. Somewhere I ain’t gotta worry about hearing my neighbors when they get into squabbles,” Franky answers.
“Okay, that’s understandable.” Bridget nods. “Let me know if you need help.”
“Think I got it, it’s not my first move.” Franky exits the bedroom.
Franky would have jumped at the chance to have Bridget help her move. However, she couldn’t risk Bridget knowing where she lived at least not until the arsenal and safes were discreetly installed.
When they arrive at the bar, Franky walks Bridget over to her car and opens the driver’s side door for her.
“Don’t forget the deal we made,” Franky says as Bridget gets in and fastens her seatbelt.
“I won’t,” Bridget responds.
“Alright, cos I will be checking in with you for an update.” Franky kisses her forehead, then turns and walks away.
Bridget watches Franky until she finally drives off. “God, I would never pray for a couple’s downfall, but I really want Franky. And I honestly believe it’s my fault that she may or may not be falling in love with this other woman,” She prays out loud. “If it’s not our destiny to be together, then God, give me strength to get over her.”
Quinn sits at the desk in her hotel room, still looking over the Jodie Spiteri news stories. She hears a knock at the door and quickly closes her laptop, then hurries over to the door. She looks out the peephole and smiles. Before opening the door, she makes sure nothing is out of place, especially nothing she didn’t want exposed right now.
“Took you long enough,” Franky says when Quinn finally opens the door. Franky hands her the cup of coffee she’d stop and got. “Peppermint, Mocha Frappe your favorite, right?”
“You remembered, thank you,” Quinn says.
“I woulda brought flowers, but I’m not the flower giving type and plus I didn’t know what you’d like, so…” Franky pauses.
Quinn grabs the bottom of her shirt and pulls her inside the room. “Hush and get in here.” Quinn kisses Franky passionately.
Franky wraps her arms around her waist pulling her close. “Um…you smell good!” Franky breaks the kiss and whispers into her ear while she inhales her scent and bites her neck.
As heat grows between them, Quinn pulls back and puts her hands on her hips. “Before we continue, I wanna know where you were last night.”
Franky throws her head back and groans loudly. “Don’t start arcing up on me.” Franky walks over to the bed and sits down, then grabs Quinn’s waist. “Alright, I’ma be honest with you. Can you handle that?”
Quinn peers deep into her eyes and shrugs. “Did you cheat on me?” Quinn chest tightens and a lump form in her throat.
Franky caresses her chin softly. “I didn’t cheat on you.”
“Okay, then whatever you have to tell me I can handle it,” Quinn assures.
“After I told you I was unable to come see you last night because I’d had a long day. A friend called me for help…”
“The same friend you helped last time?” Quinn cuts Franky off.
Franky nods slowly. “Yeah, but it wasn’t like that, babe, I promise.”
Quinn backs away with a frown on her face. “What was it like? I know you gotta a thing for that bitch!”
“Don’t call her that and stop tripping on me and listen,” Franky requests.
“Sorry,” Quinn apologizes quickly. “Okay, what happened?”
“She was drunk, and I couldn’t let her drive…or leave her like that,” Franky explains.
Quinn exhales deeply. “Okay, guess I can’t be mad about that. I’d be more upset if you hadn’t helped her even if you two do have the hots for each other.”
“I don’t…” Franky starts.
“Yeah, you do,” Quinn cuts her off again. “I saw that in your eyes the first time I met her, when you choked the shit outta me, remember?”
“I shouldn’t have done that,” Franky admits. Franky reaches out for Quinn and pulls her back into her arms. “The old me would have never told you about last night. I’m trying to change baby but you gotta trust me. So, can you just chillax and act like you like me.”
“I love you, Franky!” Quinn says boldly.
“I know ya do, come here.” Franky stretches her arms wider.
Quinn finally walks into them and wraps her hands around Franky’s neck. “You didn’t fuck her?”
Franky shakes her head. “No…no I didn’t fuck her. I wouldn’t lie to you about that.”
“Okay.” Quinn starts kissing her again.
As they kiss Franky lays Quinn down on the bed and straddles her, using her knees to push her legs apart. Since she was still in her silk night gown it wasn’t much for Franky to rip it off.
“Don’t worry I’ll buy you another one,” Franky says as she starts massaging Quinn’s breasts slowly and tweaking her nipples between her index and thumb fingers.
“Uunhhh…” Quinn lets out a soft moan.
“Is this what you wanted last night?” Franky asks sliding her hand inside Quinn panties.
Quinn nods. Franky slips her two fingers inside Quinn’s center and thrust them upward slow at first then fast, hitting her G-spot. As she fingers her faster with one hand, she continues to massage her breast with the other.
“Sshhh…F…F…Franky!” Quinn moans. “Baby, that feels…so…”
“You like that?” Franky taunts.
“Um…huh!” Quinn moans louder. “Fuck me, baby! Fuck me!”
“Don’t worry I plan to.” Franky answers.
She rips her panties off and places her legs over her shoulders as she dives between them and lets her tongue work its magic.
“I was expecting you last night,” Laurence tells Erica as she approaches him sitting on one of the benches at that dog park.
“I had some last-minute files to finish and lost track of time,” Erica admits taking a seat next to him. “I’m here now. What do you have for me?” She looks around making sure no one is paying attention to them. Luckily everyone is occupied by their dogs.
“That photo you gave me provided an instant facial recognition once I had that it was no problem getting her biography.” Laurence hands Erica a file folder. “Meet Arynn Spaulding.”
Erica looks inside the folder and her eyes grow wide and her brows raises. “She’s a cop?”
“Not just any cop. She’s a detective…one of Australia’s most dedicated undercover agents,” Laurence explains. “She has taken down some of the most notorious crime organizations from here all the way to Sydney and back.”
“So, if someone was part of a lucrative organization and currently involved with her what does that mean?” Erica asks.
“I would advise them to get as far away from her as they can. Otherwise they should get their affairs in order. Because if she is involved with someone who’s part of a criminal organization it is not social nor is it for pleasure,” Laurence continues. “You remember the Maroni’s?”
“The drug cartel family?” Erica nods.
“Yep, she took them down. The Knollwood bank jackers, she took them down. Her latest infiltration was with the Bracey Jewel thieves…” Laurence stops briefly.
“Let me guess she took them down, too,” Erica adds.
“Now you’re catching on,” Laurence states.
“Thank you, Laurence.” Erica stands up to walk away.
“Oi, why is this an interest to you?” Laurence asks.
“Someone I care about might be in danger,” Erica states.
“Care to elaborate?” Laurence inquires.
“Nope, but thanks again for your help.” Erica turns and starts walking away.
“Don’t be a stranger, Ms. Sexy Arse Davidson!” Laurence yells after her.
Chapter 19: Chapter Nineteen
“I can stay like this all fuckin day,” Quinn tells Franky, rubbing her hand over Franky’s succulent breasts.
Franky wraps her arm tighter around Quinn’s waist, and gazes into her eyes. “I’m spoilin’ ya already, huh?”
Quinn lightly laughs. “That’s an understatement.”
Franky kisses Quinn, then says, “I’d love to stay, beautiful but I gotta go see what’s happening at work.”
Franky grabs her phone and sees that it’s dead.
“Well, I’ma shower, wanna join me?” Quinn asks.
“Nah, I ain’t bring no clothes this time. Rain check, sexy,” Franky replies. “Can I use your computer to check my email? My phone is dead.”
Quinn nods. “Sure, the passcode is Franky twenty-sixteen.”
Franky laughs and shakes her head. “You got it bad, baby.”
Quinn shrugs with a bright smile. “Can ya blame me?”
“Nah, I can’t,” Franky answers. “You might be rubbin off on me, too, Firecracker.” She smacks Quinn’s ass as they get out of bed.
Quinn blushes thinking about Franky and the times they’d shared and how she feels about her, then shuts the door.
When Franky hears the shower in the bathroom turn on, she sits at the desk where Quinn’s laptop is and opens it, then waits for the screen to pop up. As Quinn stated the computer was pass coded. Franky types in the password Franky2016. The screen lets her in quickly and instantly Franky’s original plan is diverted due to her being distracted by the content on the screen. She scrolls through all the sites, scheming over the information.
“Why would she…” Franky pauses as the news reports get to very intense and viable information.
Franky rubs her hand over her face and sighs heavily. Deciding she didn’t need or want to speak with Quinn about what she saw, she leaves the computer open on the contents, quickly dresses, grabs her phone and storms out of the hotel room.
Quinn gets out of the tub humming, then wraps a towel around her as she heads back into the room. She immediately stops the lovely tune she’d been making when she notices that the room is empty, and all Franky’s things are gone. She sees her laptop open on the Jodie Spiteri information she’d been researching.
“Fuck!” she groans realizing she’d royally fucked up leaving that information open on her computer, then letting Franky use it. Only one thought pops into her mind. She grabs her phone off the nightstand and dials a number.
“Yeah?” the gruff voice says.
“We have a problem,” Quinn says into the phone.
“Meet me at the spot in an hour,” the voice demands and hangs up.
An hour later, Quinn walks into the mausoleum, as usual Elliot sits on the bench in front his brother’s tomb, staring at the words.
“What the fuck did you do, Arynn?” Elliot says.
“Franky found the information I was researching on Jodie Spiteri,” Quinn admits.
“What’d she say when she found it?” Elliot inquires.
“Nothing, she just left, I haven’t heard from her since,” Quinn explains.
“How the fuck did you let that happen?” Elliot hollers. “Let me guess you were face deep in her pussy or was she face deep in yours?”
“That’s none of your business, detective,” Quinn fusses. “I’m starting to think this undercover case is just code for your personal vendetta.”
“Fuck you! That bitch killed my brother. And if I don’t get to her by your slut arse, I’ll find another way.” Elliot gets up and gets in Quinn’s face. “Either way that dyke bitch is going down and if I have to, I’ll take you down with her. And you better pray to God you haven’t blown your cover or fucked up this case.”
“Fuck you, Elliot,” Quinn snaps. “I thought by being on this case, I’d be helping but now I wish I would have never taken it on.”
“Had you not taken it on, you wouldn’t be all lovey dovey with your precious Francesca Doyle, now would ya?” Elliot reminds. “I know you’re fallin in love with that bitch. You’re just like every other thirsty bitch in Melbourne too busy being concerned about your pussy instead of your money,” he rages.
Quinn slaps the detective hard as she can and storms toward the doors, she turns back briefly and glares at him. “Ya know what find someone else to do your dirty work. I’m out!”
Before Elliot can respond, Quinn is out the door.
Franky grabs her laptop and sets it on her bed, then opens it. She types Jodie Spiteri’s name into the search engine and the information comes up. As she starts reading over the new reports slower this time, her phone vibrates with a text alert.
//: I know you saw my computer. I’d like to speak with you about it if you let me. Don’t shut me out. Plus, I have something important to tell you. ~Quinn~
Franky sucks her teeth and leaves the text unanswered. She goes back to reading over the information, the first initial piece of information was that Jodie Spiteri was working undercover for the APF.
“Fuck, Jodie,” Franky grumbles. “Why would Quinn be interested in this shit?” She reads on further and gets to the photos and description of what really happened to her. “Damn, Jodie…damn!” Franky shakes her head and exhales, as she sends the information to her printer.
Franky retrieves the papers from the printer and places them in a file folder from her desk. As she’s puts the folder in her bag, a call comes in on her phone.
“This bitch here, geez,” she says looking at Erica’s name on the caller I.D. she let it go to voicemail.
Franky grabs her bag and storms back out of her apartment. As she starts her car, a voicemail alert comes on her phone. She didn’t need to see caller I.D. to know who it was, she pulls up the alert and puts her phone on speaker, then presses play.
Her veins get cold as ice as Erica’s voice penetrates her car.
“Hey, pretty girl, I know we have issues to sort. But I really need to speak with you seriously. No games…no bullshit. Franky we gotta talk, so call me back with a location or text me that it’s okay for me to come over. I’ll be waiting for some kind of response. Oh, and I still love you!”
Franky shakes her head and exhales, but she sends Erica a text anyway.
//: Meet me at the diner around the corner from my house. I’m headed out so I can give you ten minutes. I need some caffeine to settle my nerves anyway.
//: I’ll be there. Thank you!” Erica texts back.
Franky smiles as Erica enters the diner. Even though, they were on bad terms it was always refreshing to see her. Despite their issues she was still beautiful, and Franky didn’t hate her.
Erica approaches the table where Franky sits sipping on a cup of Peppermint, Mocha Frappe with four shots of Espresso. Across from her sits another beverage.
Franky stands and greets Erica with a quick hug, sending shivers through Erica’s body and making her pussy throb.
“Always a pleasure touching you,” Erica flirts.
Franky turns her lips up. “Sit down.” She backs away from her and takes her seat. “I ordered your favorite. You still like White Mocha Cappucino with extra cream, right?”
Erica nods and sets her briefcase down on the floor. “Thank you, you’re still just as considerate as I remember.” Erica smiles taking her seat across from Franky.
Franky cuts right to the point, “So, what’d ya wanna talk about?”
“Before I say anything just know I’m only trying to protect you,” Erica explains.
“Spit it out, Erica,” Franky remarks a little irritated.
Erica pulls a file folder from her briefcase. “I know you’ve been seeing a new girl. And I can’t deny that I am slightly jealous, however, how well do you know ya new girl?”
“You don’t need to know shit about my girl,” Franky snaps.
Erica ignores her attitude and continues, “Did you look into her background?” Erica looks directly into Franky’s eyes.
Franky knew that was her serious, I’m not playing around glare. “If you have something just give it to me.”
“Okay, promise me you won’t shoot the messenger,” Erica says.
“Erica, your ten minutes is running scarce,” Franky reminds.
Erica slides the folder over to Franky.
Franky opens it and reads the contents, then locks her eyes on the photo. Her chest tightens and her eyes darken, then a deep scowl appears on her face while her eyebrows scrunch up making the feral look very evident and intimidating.
“Well…today has been one of fuckin surprises,” Franky grumbles. “Where’d you get this?”
“A friend who works closely with background checks and UCs,” Erica tells half-truth, she didn’t want Franky to know she’d had a P.I. looking into her girlfriend’s information.
Franky rubs her hand through her hair and massages her temples, frustrated.
“I’m sorry, Franky,” Erica apologizes.
“Yeah, I bet you are. Anyway, since you’re here. What do you know about this?” Franky reaches into her bag, takes the file out and slams it down on the table in front of Erica.
Erica looks over the Jodie Spiteri contents then looks back at Franky. “Wasn’t she one of your girls, too?”
“Oh, you think this is a game, Erica?” Franky fumes.
“No, I don’t actually. I think if you would just stick with me, you wouldn’t keep getting involved with women who want to hurt you,” Erica expresses.
“You mean worse than you did?” Franky fires back.
“Okay, whatever, I was just trying to help you and as far as Jodie Spiteri goes…you need to sort that out with Maxine and Bea. Oh, and because I helped you know the truth about you girl, you owe me. I will be over later to collect that debt.” Erica grabs her briefcase and her coffee. “Thanks for the coffee.” She sashays out of the door with a wicked grin on her face knowing that she’d just put salt in Franky’s happy relationship, and it was only a matter of time before she’d be back in Franky’s bed where she not only longed to be but needed to be as well.
Chapter 20: Chapter Twenty
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
Loud banging on the door interrupts Shane’s intimate moment with his girlfriend Jade.
“Who the fuck is that?” Jade who was seventeen, caramel skinned, with hazel eyes and short styled brown hair questions, looking up at Shane who’d stopped kissing her when he heard the banging on the door.
Shane shrugs. “Don’t know but it must be important.”
“It better not be some other bitch,” Jade responds folding her arms over her exposed breasts.
“Don’t start that shit again,” Shane says grabbing his pants and slipping them on. “Let me get rid of whoever it is, I’ll be right back.”
The knocking gets louder as Shane exits his bedroom.
“Whoever this is better have an important reason to be banging on my fuckin door like this,” Shane grumbles as he walks over to the door. “Who is it?” he yells.
“Open the fuckin door!” Franky yells back.
“Oh shit,” Shane says snatching the door open. “What’s…”
Before he can finish his sentence, Franky pushes the file folder she’s holding into his shirtless chest, as she pushes him back inside the house and slams the door shut.
Shane recognizes Franky’s mood, opens the folder and scans over the contents. “Arynn Spaulding, ooohhh…shit!” he says.
Franky eyes him angrily. “Ooohhh…shit is right,” Franky repeats. “So, what happened? I specifically told you to look into her for me.”
“What happened?” Shane asks.
“The bitch is a fuckin cop!” Franky yells. “But given that you’ve never slacked on your skills, I’m sure you knew that already. So, start talking, Shane!”
“Okay, look can we talk without all the yelling, please?” Shane requests.
Franky walks into the living room and sits on the couch. “I’m listening.”
“Want something to drink?” Shane asks.
“Nah.” Franky shakes her head realizing she can’t drink if she expected Bridget not to drink.
Shane sits next to Franky and exhales as he looks over the photos and information in the folder again. “Okay, look I did know that her real name was Arynn and that she was a detective…” Shane starts.
“What the fuck, Shane!” Franky shouts giving him an angry glare.
“Let me finish, woman, damn,” Shane states.
“Alright, finish,” Franky agrees.
“Alright, I just figured if you were vibing with her then knowing her true intentions before you actually knew the person would put a damper on things. I wanted you to get to know her first without having a reason to end things prematurely,” Shane explains. “I wanted you to at least know what it feels like to build something real for a change.”
“Build something real with someone who’s not real and haven’t been real with me from the start,” Franky interjects. “Do you see the predicament you’ve put me in?” Franky gets up and snatches the folder away from Shane. “You know what I can’t be here right now.” She storms toward the front door.
“I’m sorry, Franky!” Shane hollers after her before hearing his door slam loudly.
“Come on, give me five more,” Maxine coaches Bea who was doing reps with hand weights. “Call em out.”
“One…two…uh…” Bea pauses the reps and exhales deeply. “Three…four…” Bea stops once more as she hears the gym door open.
“Just the two bitches I need to see,” Franky says with anger apparent in her tone.
“Nice to see you, too,” Maxine says turning to Franky.
“What’s with the attitude?” Bea asks referring to Franky as she places the weights back.
Franky walks over to Maxine and hands her the folder with the contents she’d printed about Jodie.
“Where did you get this from?” Maxine inquires.
Franky frowns. “That’s not the fuckin point here. What do y’all know about this? And don’t lie cos someone told me you two were responsible for that shit.”
Bea shakes her head and walks over to Maxine to look at the file folder. “We ain’t kill her, Franky,” Bea says.
“But ya know who did?” Franky assumes.
“Why does this concern you all of a sudden?” Maxine asks. “This happened a few years ago.”
“Three,” Franky adds. “And that’s not the point.”
“Before everyone gets all in their feelings, Franky we did the clean-up, but the killing was done by Joan and one of her clients,” Bea informs.
“Clients? What client?” Franky asks.
“Can’t recall his name but he was a cop who wanted to punish his C.I. for betraying him,” Maxine adds. “I’ll never forget that scene…all the blood…and that tongue and eyeballs…” Maxine shivers at the thought. “Oh my God, Jodie Spiteri, she was your girlfriend at the time, right?” Maxine looks over at Franky who now had tears in her eyes.
Without another word, Franky turns and exits the gym. When she gets back to the car, she punches the steering wheel and breaks down crying. As she tries to get herself together, she remembers something Maxine said. “A cop…a cop?” All kinds of thoughts roam her mind. “So, did she have Jodie killed?” Franky mumbles and shakes it off as she heads to her next destination.
Bridget had wrapped up her last session when her office phone rang.
“Hello,” Bridget answers.
“Miss Westfall, there’s someone here to see you,” her receptionist says. “She says it’s an emergency.”
“Would she happen to have green eyes and raven-like dark hair?” Bridget questions.
“As a matter of fact, she does,” the receptionist confirms.
“Send her back and hold any other calls or visitors that come in for me,” Bridget replies.
The second Franky walks into her office, Bridget can tell something’s bothering her, the anguish on her face is evident.
“Sit down and tell me what happened,” Bridget offers pointing at the chair.
Franky passes Bridget the two folders and sits down, then rubs both hands through her hair.
“Quinn’s name is Arynn?” Bridget asks after looking through the contents in both folders. “And oh my, what they did to Jodie…”
“Jodie was my ex. I was told that she went back home to Perth. I’m just now finding out she was killed…I just feel like everyone around me has been lying and taking my trust for granted.” Franky complains sadly.
Bridget sits in the chair next to Franky and grabs her hand gently. “Ever thought that maybe you’ve been putting your trust in the wrong people?”
Franky sniffles and shoots Bridget a look. “Who should I put my trust in then…you?”
Bridget smiles. “Well, no pressure.”
That gives Franky her first laugh all day. “Seriously, though, how could she lie to me like that and why?”
“Who Quinn?” Bridget asks. “You were falling for her, weren’t you?”
“Yeah, I was but…” Franky sighs hard.
“But now all that’s out the window,” Bridget finishes her sentence.
“She lied to me about…about everything, Gidge. I can’t even bring myself to speak to her let alone be in the same room with her. And what’s worse is I had to find out she was playing me by my ex.”
“Yeah, that sucks and if no one else has said it today, I’m sorry, Franky.” Bridget eyes her passionately.
“Please don’t look at me like that,” Franky pleads.
“Why, are you afraid of what you might do?” Bridget asks.
Franky nods. “What am I supposed to do now?”
“Communication is key, Franky. Talk to Quinn…Arynn, whatever she prefers to go by. Hear her side of the story, you just might be surprised,” Bridget suggests.
“You don’t understand, I may not have that luxury in my profession,” Franky confesses.
“As an assassin?” Bridget says.
This shocks Franky and causes her eyes to bulge.
Bridget nods. “Yes, I know what you really do for a living. I’ve known for a while besides, you don’t look like the type that runs around killing rodents all day, six days a week.”
“And you still have no issue being around me?” Franky asks.
“Nope, cos I see the good in you, Francesca Doyle. Underneath all that darkness you want the world to see is a bright, beautiful light.” Bridget blushes.
Franky squeezes her hand and eyes her lovingly. “Is this a technique that you use with all your clients?”
“Nah, baby that one is just for you,” Bridget answers.
“Well, damn, I must be pretty special,” Franky replies.
“Indeed, you are.” Bridget kneels in front of Franky and caresses her face. “Do me a favor, don’t hurt that girl. I know you say you may not have the luxury, but you control your own destiny, Franky. You can make the choice to change. You once told me that you wanted more. Now’s your chance to act on that and decide what’s next.”
“That easy, eh?” Franky shrugs.
Bridget shakes her head. “Of course not, nothing worth having is ever easy, change…career…love…”
“Love, huh?” Franky mocks. She and Bridget hold each other’s gaze. “Be honest with me, Gidge.”
“Sure, anytime,” Bridget responds.
“Do you love me?” Franky eyes her deeply.
Bridget stands up and leans against her desk with her arms folded across her chest not breaking eye contact with Franky. “I do love you, Franky. But the kind of companionship I desire I just don’t think you’re ready to give me just yet and…”
“And you’re scared I’m gonna hurt ya,” Franky completes her sentence. “I can understand that. So, now what?”
Bridget walks over to Franky and takes her hand in hers, then pulls her up from the chair. “You go home, think about your life, your future, your love and anything else you want and need. I’m always here whenever you need to talk no matter what time or day it is. Oh, and for the record I haven’t had a drink since we last saw each other.”
“Good girl, I’m proud of you,” Franky says. “Anyway, I’m sorry for interrupting your day.”
“No worries, my love,” Bridget says.
“Let me get outta here, I owe someone a debt and I’m sure they’ll be coming to collect on it soon,” Franky says thinking about Erica as she gets up and heads for the door.
“Don’t hesitate to call me, Franky, if you need me. And think long and hard about what I said.” Bridget kisses her cheek and escorts her out of the office.
Chapter 21: Chapter Twenty-One
//: Come by at 8! Let yourself in, the door’s unlocked.
Erica smiles as she reads the text Franky sent her over an hour ago for the third time. “Is she really warming back up to me?” Erica asks aloud as she approaches Franky’s apartment door. “Well, guess I’m about to find out.”
Erica turns the knob to the apartment door, as Franky said it was opened. When Erica enters the apartment is dark with the exception of a light coming from the bedroom. Erica drops her purse on the counter and heads toward the light. When she gets in the bedroom her eyes grow wide at the sight before her.
Franky stands in front of her bed, naked, wearing a ten-inch, black, strap on that was glistening from the lubrication she’d already rubbed on it.
“Someone looks ready to party,” Erica comments with a smile.
“Just lay down so we can get this over with,” Franky replies pointing at the bed.
“Damn, no flowers, candles, music…nothing?” Erica complains.
“Ain’t in the romantic type of mood tonight,” Franky admits. “This is it, take it or leave it.”
Erica shrugs and quickly starts removing her clothes. “Do I at least get the full level of pleasure?”
Franky shrugs. “Guess we’ll have to wait and see.”
Now fully naked, Erica climbs in the middle of the bed and slides to the end.
Franky eases behind her and slowly kisses the nape of her neck. Then kisses her shoulders biting each side hard, purposely leaving passion marks.
“Oohhhh…Franky…don’t mark me…” Erica pleads.
“Too late,” Franky says then continues placing soft kisses from her back on down to her ass.
Franky reaches her hand around the front of Erica and grabs ahold of her clit, squeezing it between two fingers as she bites each ass cheek.
“Um…Franky!” Erica moans shutting her eyes and opening her mouth in ecstasy.
Franky slips the same two fingers inside Erica’s opening then thrusts hard and deep.
“Oooo…God…Franky….sl…slow down!” Erica begs.
“Shush!” Franky instructs. “Just enjoy the ride, babe.”
Franky spreads Erica’s butt cheeks and spits in the crack of her ass, then rubs the strap-on over it and slides in Erica’s opening from the back slow and steady.
Erica reaches behind her to grab Franky’s thigh, trying to keep her from entering too deep to no avail.
Franky grabs her arms and pins them behind her back as she holds tight and pushes deeper.
“Uunnnhhh! Aaahhh! Aahhhh!” Erica moans. “God…fuck…fuck…fuck me, baby!” Erica shrieks.
“You like that, eh?” Franky taunts pushing a few more inches inside Erica and speeding her hips up a little.
“Y…yes…yes!” Erica screams throwing her hips back to the motion of Franky’s strokes. “Don’t… don’t stop!”
Granting her wish, Franky releases her arms and grabs ahold of Erica’s shoulders, then pushes the entire ten inches inside Erica causing her to squeal loudly in pleasure and pain. The more Franky thinks about Quinn lying to her and Erica being the one to expose that lie, the harder her strokes become. She lets go of Erica’s shoulders and grabs her hair into a ponytail, then holds on tights as she slams into her with force and pent-up aggression.
Forty-five minutes or so later, Franky collapses on Erica’s back, sweaty and exhausted, taking a moment to catch her breath. She tweaks Erica’s breasts nipples in both hands and places soft kisses on her shoulders.
Erica was so spent from the back-to-back orgasms she couldn’t say anything. She tried to catch her breath while enjoying Franky’s touch at the same time.
However, that pleasure didn’t last long, once Franky catches her breath, she pulls the strap-on out of Erica and steps out of it, then walks into the bathroom and grabs a wash towel, she wets the towel, and walks into the bedroom tossing it on the bed next to Erica.
“Wipe up and let yourself out. Oh, and lock the door, I know you still have a key,” Franky says.
“That’s it, just like that?” Erica sits up on her elbow where she lay and eyes Franky.
Franky nods. “Yeah, you got what you came for. And our debt is even now. See yourself out.” Franky goes back into the bathroom, shuts the door, locks it, and cuts the shower on.
Realizing she wasn’t joking, Erica uses the towel, wipes herself up and gets dressed. The pain of being rejected yet again by the first woman she ever loved hits her heart like a rocket. Not knowing what else to do, she leaves Franky’s room, grabs her purse, and exits her house. However, she was not satisfied with the way Franky handled her and thoughts of revenge flood her mind.
“Have you talked to her?” the male voice on the end of the phone asks.
“No, I’ve called and text but got no response, yet,” Quinn answers.
Knock! Knock! Knock! Three knocks on her hotel door interrupts her.
Quinn walks over to the peak hole and a smile spreads across her face.
“Let me call ya back.” Before waiting for a reply, Quinn hangs up her cell and opens the hotel door. “Didn’t think I’d see you again.” Quinn seeing the mean scowl on Franky’s face tries to lighten the mood.
Franky ignores her comment, enters the room and flops down in the chair.
“So, you’re just gonna come here and continue to ignore me, without speaking?” Quinn asks sounding slightly annoyed.
Franky scoffs and looks up at her with dark eyes and her nose scrunched. “That depends, who am I speaking to? Quinn or Arynn?” Franky asks lowly with obvious attitude.
Quinn sits down on the end of the bed and rubs her hand over her face, then sighs deeply. “Oh, God…” she mumbles.
“God can’t help you,” Franky replies. “I know your real name and your real career,” Franky fusses.
“Franky…” Quinn starts but is quickly cut off.
“Just tell me one thing, when you were eyeing me at the gym, was it cos you were genuinely interested in me or was I just an assignment for ya?” Franky looks at her and locks her gaze.
Tears quickly flood Quinn’s eyes. “Honestly?” Quinn asks.
“Yeah, for once if you can manage that,” Franky answers.
“Franky, when I came here, I thought my task would be easy,” Quinn admits. “My job was to get close to you and find out who killed my boss’s brother. But after our first encounter, I knew it wasn’t gonna be easy cos you showed me your true self from the start. You turned out to be a great…special woman. I fell for you hard…” Quinn cries harder. “But I never meant to hurt you, Franky. You have to believe that.”
Franky stands up with tears of her own flooding her eyes. “I don’t know what to believe anymore. And you know the fucked-up thing is, I was starting to fall for you too only to find out it was all a lie. And unfortunately, sorry just isn’t gonna be enough to make things right.”
“Franky, please, baby let me explain,” Quinn pleads as Franky heads toward the door.
Franky pauses her stride and eyes Quinn seriously. “What more is there to explain? You lied to me about everything.”
“Okay, like you never lied to me!” Quinn snaps. “With that story of you being an exterminator. That’s code for assassin, right?” Quinn puts her hands on her hips.
“Don’t try to twist this around on me,” Franky fires back. “This is your fuck up, not mine and being that I was a fuckin assignment for you, I’m sure you knew I was an assassin all along. Oh, and for the record the other night when I couldn’t be with you, I was with Bridget. I turned down the opportunity to go the distance with her cos of my desire to be faithful to you. Had I only known then what I know now…” Franky shakes her head and storms over to the door. “Before I go though, just a heads up about your boss, he may have been responsible for the death of Jodie Spiteri. Ya know the woman you were looking into the other day when I was over here.”
This was a shock to Quinn. “Hold on what does that mean?”
“Did you have Jodie killed, Quinn…Arynn or whoever the hell you are? Don’t fuckin lie to me!” Franky yells.
Quinn’s eyes grow wide, and she quickly shakes her head. “No of course not, I never even heard of Jodie until my boss told me about her a few days ago. He had the thought that you killed her when she was outed as a criminal informant,” Quinn explains.
“I would never, she was my girlfriend at the time,” Franky confesses. “I was told that a cop joined forces with my boss to help kill Jodie. If it wasn’t you, all I’ma say is be careful and watch your back around him. In fact, if I was you, I’d consider getting out of town ASAP. I don’t wanna be forced to do harm to you,” Franky advises.
“Nice to know you still give a damn about my well-being. Again, Franky, I’m sorry for lying to you and if I hurt you,” Quinn says.
“If?” Franky repeats but leaves it alone. “Ya know what…fuck it. I can’t be here, right now. I gotta go!”
Franky exits the hotel room without looking back, leaving Quinn with a lot of thoughts roaming her mind and a lot of regret filling her heart. Quinn knew no matter what she’d lost Franky forever and no words were gonna be good enough to change that.
Chapter 22: Chapter Twenty-Two
Good evening, beautiful readers and supporters. I apologize for the delayed post over the past few weeks my daughter and I were very sick with a severe viral infection. I had to just unplug and go off the grid while I focused on me and her recovery. We are still in the recovery process but I felt like writing this weekend and knew that I wasn't going to keep you all waiting too much longer for new content. I hope this chapter is worth the wait if not my apologies charge to my sickness not my heart lol!
“Oi, Franky, how’s it going?” Shane asks after answering the phone on the first ring. “Ain’t think I’d hear from you so soon.”
“Look, I’ve packed what I’m taking from my place. I need you to move my things into a lock up garage and hold onto the key until I come for it,” Franky says grabbing her duffle bag off the bed. “I’m going outta town for a few days to get my head right.”
“Okay and what about Arynn, did you…”
“She’s fine, Shane. I have no intention of harming her,” Franky replies.
“Okay, I’ll get it sorted for you. Franky, stay safe and again I’m sorry,” Shane says.
“No worries, mate. I’ll call you when I get settled and let ya know how I’m traveling.” Franky ends the call.
Franky takes one last look at her surroundings, exhales and exits the apartment with plans of never returning. She goes into her Charger gets out all the things she wanted and needed then walks over to the Midnight blue Mustang GT with dark tinted windows that she purchased the night before. She sets the duffle bag on the back seat next to her arsenal bag, sex toy bag and computer bag. Lastly, pays the tow driver that was there to get rid of her Charger.
“Why are you getting rid of this beauty again?” the tow driver asks.
“Just time for something new,” Franky replies smiling and walks off to her Mustang. “I am so tired of this,” Franky grumbles as she pulls out of the car park of the apartment complex.
A few minutes later she pulls into the car park of the Melbourne Mobile company. “Please let them be open,” she says since it was still fairly early.
Franky breathes a sigh of relief when she sees the open sign light up just as she approaches the entrance. After browsing through the phones for a few quick minutes, Franky settles on a new burner only. Once she’s back in the car, she adds her contacts from her old smart phone to her new burner phone. Then she lays the smart phone on the ground and stomps it twice, she does the same with the old burner phone. Finally, she grabs the large bottle of Gatorade out of the cup holder and pours the liquid over both phones, soaking them. After waiting five minutes she picks the phones up, shakes the liquid off and puts them inside a disposable black plastic bag, then she drives over to the trash can behind the mobile store and throws the bag inside.
An hour later, Franky pulls into the driveway of her safehouse on the beach of Geelong that no one, not even Shane knew about. Franky presses the button on her keychain to open her two-car garage, after parking, she reaches into her glove compartment and removes her new Glock, then exits the car. She opens the door leading into the kitchen from the garage and slowly does a thorough search through the three-bedroom beach home making sure no intruders were on the premises. Confirming all was clear she goes back to the car and removes her bags, then sets them on the chair inside the master bedroom.
She flops down on the King size bed and makes a call.
“That didn’t take long,” Shane says. “I’m at your place right now. I assume as usual you’re leaving the furniture?”
“Yeah, you know when I start over, I start completely over,” Franky replies. “Hoping this will be the last time.”
“So, you’re finally retiring?” Shane asks surprised.
“Don’t know just yet, but I’m seriously considering,” Franky answers. “Anyway, I ain’t call to chit chat, Shane. I need another favor.”
“Name it,” Shane says.
“Keep a close eye on Quinn for me,” Franky requests.
“Don’t ya mean Arynn?” Shane blurts.
“Shut up, ya know who I mean. I’ma give you her number so you can track her phone. I think her boss is shady as fuck.”
“Gotcha, I’ll keep ya informed, Franky.” Shane agrees.
“Shane, don’t let her know you’re watching her or that I ask.”
“Why not, Franky, it’s obvious you care about her,” Shane responds.
“Look it’s complicated alright. Just do it, thanks.” Franky ends the call then makes another call.
“Hello,” Bridget answers.
“There’s that sweet voice I love,” Franky says.
“Franky?” Bridget says surprised. “This a new number?”
“Yeah, it is,” Franky replies. “What ya doing?”
“Heading into work. How about you, how’re ya going?” Bridget inquires since it had been a few days she saw or heard from her.
“Not so good,” Franky admits. “It’s been a shitty week, Bridget. But through it all I can’t stop thinking about you. I need to see you. Can you get away for a few days?”
“You mean like a vacation?” Bridget questions fighting back a smile.
“Well, it’ll only an hour away but if you wanna call it that, be my guest,” Franky says.
“Ya know what let me get through today and I’ll let you know when I get off,” Bridget says.
Franky sucks her teeth, feeling gutted. “Alright, well, I’ma text you the address in case you do decide you can make it. Please don’t share my address or new number with anyone.” Franky puts the phone on speaker and text Bridget her address.
“I would never do that,” Bridget says. “Let me get to work, I’ll call you later.”
“Okay, pretty lady, don’t work too hard.” Franky ends the call.
Arynn enters the AFP office and walks over to the desk.
“Can I help you?” the bloke behind the counter, dressed in a cop uniform asks.
“I have an appointment with Captain Lange,” Arynn replies showing the bloke her badge.
“My apologies, Detective Spaulding, go on back, he’s expecting you,” the officer says pointing her in the direction of the Captain’s Office.
Arynn knocks on Captain Liam Lange’s door.
Captain Lange is in his mid-forties with brunette, peppered hair, blue eyes, and a clean shaved face. He waves Arynn into his office. “Detective Spaulding, I cannot tell you what a pleasure it is to see you. However, I must say I was surprised and bit confused when you called me about Detective Barksdale. That is why I thought it was important that we speak face-to-face,” Captain Lange says taking his seat. “Do you mind telling me how is it that you came in contact with Barksdale?”
Arynn sits all the way up in the chair. “He called my superior at the ASIS, then my superior briefed me about a case concerning a rookie cop who was killed while on duty and his brother a high-ranking detective was looking for someone to go undercover and catch the offenders. So, I met with Elliot, he filled me in, and I was glad to be assisting him. I thought I’d be doing a great service to a fallen comrade as well as my career. Now, I’m beginning to think there’s more to all this than Detective Barksdale told me.”
“You are correct there is more to this story than he’s telling you. Starting with the fact that Barksdale hasn’t been a detective for three years,” Captain Lange says. “Which brings me to my next question, how the hell was he paying you?”
“I assumed the funds came from the AFP or personally from him since it was his case. Either way it goes, I was paid very well and accommodated with full undercover details and hotel expenses,” Arynn adds. “Elliot organized everything.”
“He must have used his pension,” Captain Lange replies. “I’m sorry you were dragged into another one of Barksdale’s conspiracies.
“Why exactly was he let go, if you don’t mind me asking?” Arynn inquires.
“He was let go due to suspicion that he hired professional assassins to murder one of our criminal informants, then turned around and blamed those assassins for his brother’s murder who was killed while on a case during a drug deal gone bad. We could never confirm his involvement but his reluctance to accept his brother’s death and let this case go became too much for the department. In the process he lost his wife, his kids, and his job, he was obsessed, and we couldn’t allow his antics to keep putting everyone else’s lives at risk. When you become an officer no matter what department it’s for you take on the risk everyday of losing your life, it happens unfortunately. So, the AFP made a judgement call that would protect the future lives of other officers, undercovers, and Criminal Informants,” Captain Lange explains.
“You’ve got to be shitting me,” Arynn grumbles angrily.
“Again, Detective, you have sincere apologies. And I will be having a word with Barksdale…”
“No leave that to me,” Arynn demands cutting him off. “He’s mine and the ASIS problem now. We will handle it moving forward. The fact that he’s still running around claiming to be a detective let’s me know that someone in AFP dropped the ball. So, I’ll need all the files you have on Barksdale and any files he compiled regarding Jodie Spiteri and the Red Right Hand.”
“I was certain you’d ask for that and I’ve already organized the files for you. If you need anything else from the AFP, please feel free to let me know. And be careful looking into that supposed assassin company,” Captain Lange warns.
“So, you don’t think the Red Right Hand exists?” Arynn asks confused.
“Oh, no they exist, but see they’re sponsored by people who are way above me, you and the entire AFP and ASIS pay grade. Simply put, their purpose to Australian elites is bigger than us. We don’t have the resources or get paid enough to bring them down. Even if we did bring down one, another will just step up and take that one’s place within a day or two. They do their job, we do ours and we stay out of each other’s way. Unfortunately, I see Elliot still hasn’t learned that.”
Chapter 23: Chapter Twenty-Three
Once back at her hotel room, Arynn realizes she can no longer trust Elliot. So, staying in a hotel under his name and dime was not a good idea. She packs her things and checks out. Minutes later, she pulls into a servo station. As her tank fills, she pulls up hotels on her phone, after browsing through the many options, she settles on the Crowne Plaza that was twenty minutes away in the opposite direction. She programs the address into her GPS, pays for the petrol using her debit card and heads to her next destination.
When she arrives at the hotel, she checks in using a different undercover alias, that not even Elliot was aware of by the name of Yasmine Hardley. She was thankful she was provided I.D.s with all her aliases. It takes less than fifteen minutes for her to check in, pay and get keys to her new room.
Arynn smiles when she enters the room with the double King size beds, there was a large flat-screen TV mounted on the wall, above a long counter with a microwave on top and mini fridge directly underneath. Beside the counter was a desk and a leather desk chair with a lamp on top of it. Over to the side of the suite where the window was located set two blue recliners that matched the comforters and pillowcases on the bed, the curtains to the balcony doors were open. She stepped onto the balcony, seeing that it provided a great view of the city nearby and the pool and jacuzzi area below.
Arynn sets her suitcase on top of the second bed in the room along with her laptop bag. She removes her laptop from the bag and sets it up on the desk, then retrieves the files she received from Captain Lange from the inside console of the bag.
"Now, Elliot, let's see what you've been up to." She started reading and highlighting important information.
Joan Ferguson stands at the large window in her office, staring at her reflection, mouthing inaudible words to herself.
A knock on her office door brings her back to the here and now.
"Yes!" Joan yells.
Doreen opens the door slowly and pops her head in. "There's a copper here name Elliot to see you."
"Send him back," Joan says not turning away from the window. She folds her hands behind her back and impatiently taps her foot.
The doors opens and closes, then before Elliot can say anything, Joan's voice vibrates through the dimly lit room. "Has she contacted you yet?"
Elliot shakes his head. "Not since my informant called and told me she met Captain Lange at the precinct."
Joan exhales hard and runs a hand over her tight bun that sits neatly in the back of her head. "Did you try calling her?"
Elliot nods. "Yes, but apparently her phone is either cut off, she got a new number, or she blocked me. I went by the hotel I put her up in…she's checked out. I have no clue where she is now."
Joan finally turns from the window. "The point of our agreement to hire her in the first place was to bring Francesca down. Now they both know about our involvement in Jodie Spiteri's death and they're both in the wind. How the hell did Francesca blow her fucking cover anyway?" Joan fusses. "When Francesca let her emotions lead her decisions, she wears a veil over her eyes. If Arynn was doing her job that never would have happened. Even if the information did come from Erica. The only way I can see Francesca turning her back on Arynn…" Joan pauses deep in thought, she taps her fingers on the desk then it hits her. "Unless…" she pauses again, then goes over to her locker. She turns the combination, grabs her burner phone, and sends a text.
//: I need to know if Francesca made any calls to other women since she's been off the grid. Put a rush on it!
"What's going on in that head of yours, Joanie?" Elliot asks.
"Dont fuckin worry about me, Elliot," Joan snaps. "Just worry about finding Arynn. She might be our key to getting Franky. Either way if I go down you go down. I'll send your arse up shit creek before I let you destroy this entire organization. The plan was to get Francesca outta the way before she had a chance to know the truth or turn her back on us knowing all the valuable information that she’s know and all the skills she obtains. You fucked us both...royally. Now get the fuck outta my sight."
Bridget knocks on her superior’s door and waits until he acknowledges her.
“Come in,” the bloke’s voice booms through the shut door.
Bridget enters the office and sits in the chair directly in front of his desk. “G’Day, Adam.”
Adam Proctor is white, with green eyes, blonde hair and dresses in slacks, collared shirts, ties and dress shoes daily while on the clock.
“G’Day, Bridget, I thought you’d left already. Did you forget something?” Adam smiles behind his clean, shaved face.
“Nah.” Bridget shakes her head. “I was looking through the roster and saw that I have unused off days.”
Adam shrugs, confused. “Yeah?”
“So, yeah, I’ma need to take a few days off,” Bridget replies. “Kinda a family emergency outta town.”
Adam turns on his computer and pulls up the log of all his apprentices at Life Resolutions. He sees that in the twelve years Bridget has worked there she’s only taken a week of sick days, and three vacation days. He rubs his hands over his face and deeply exhales.
“You’re my best psychologist here, Bridget,” he says and before Bridget can speak, he holds up a hand stopping her. “You’re also the hardest worker. You are the only one who’s used not even half of your vacation and sick days. Hell, you even come in on weekends if need be.”
“Well, I think a lot of that is about to change. So, is that a, yes?” Bridget chimes in.
Adam raises his brows and eyes her closely. “You let someone get inside your pants, didn’t you?”
Bridget smirks. “Maybe…maybe not only time will tell.”
“Yeah, alright. If you say so, in the meantime take all the time you need,” Adam responds. “Just call your clients and let ‘em know.”
“I did that before I came to see you,” Bridget confesses.
“Ah, so, you just knew I’d say yes?” Adam asks.
“I hope you would,” Bridget answers. “But even if you’d said no, I was taking my time anyway. I just asked as a courtesy. I owe it to myself to find out the next step of my life beyond these walls.”
“Ah, yeah, someone definitely has you smitten. I know it’s not a bloke, so whoever the lady is, she’s pretty fuckin lucky.”
“I’ll see ya later, Adam,” Bridget says getting up and exiting his office filled with excitement.
After leaving Life Resolutions, she stops at the local café pub for a brief meeting with an old friend.
“You’re already here,” Bridget comments after entering the pub and finding her friend at a reserved table.
“I’m always on time for meetings especially when one of my good friends wanna talk about one of my bubs.” The brunette, blue eyed woman flashes a smile. “So, have a seat.” She gestures toward the seat across from her.
As soon as Bridget sits down a dark-haired, male waiter approaches their table with alcohol and food menus.
“Nothing for me, thanks,” Bridget declines.
“I’ll take the menus and let ya know when I’m ready to order,” the brunette says.
The waiter places the menus on the table and walks away.
“Okay, now that he’s gone,” Bridget starts. “Why didn’t you tell me, my Franky is the same Francesca you took in at fifteen and mentored?” Bridget asks eyeing her seriously. “Damn, Meg, I thought we were better than that?”
Meghan Jackson also known as Meg-The Terminator was a friend of Bridget’s who she hadn’t spoken to since Meg’s bold decision to retire from the organization.
“How was I supposed know the shy girl I attended boarding school and uni with was into bad girls,” Meg jokes.
“I didn’t know she was a bad girl when we met,” Bridget defends.
Meg nods with a wide smirk. “Yeah, right, mate. Anyone within five feet of Francesca can feel that rough around the edges spark. Shit had I not took her in and raised her like my own daughter…never mind. Anyway, are you really serious about Francesca?”
Without hesitation, Bridget nods quickly with a wide smile. “I can’t answer that right now…not until I speak with Franky first. But I would definitely be opened to exploring a new journey with her, despite her career.”
Meg nods. "That's good to know, I'd hate to have to cut ya." Bridget laughs and Meg continues, "All jokes aside I love that girl. Francesca is like the daughter I always wanted."
Bridget frowns. "If that's the case, when you retired, why you didn't take her with you?"
"Because loving Franky means respecting her boundaries. We had a long conversation about that when I decided I was done. And she made it clear that she wasn't ready to leave," Meg recalls, then adds, "Being that she spent most of her childhood on the streets that money and stability was something she needed."
"Ah, I see. Well, I guess that makes sense?" Bridget replies. "Do you think she's ready now since she's mentioned having something more to me?"
Meg nods. "Yes, I do. In fact I know she is, even though we haven't spoken about it yet. Now since you're ready to take on this journey with her. Let me give you a lesson on loving Francesca Doyle."
"Give it a go," Bridget states smiling, ready to know everything about the woman she was falling in love with more and more with each passing minute.
"Okay, first I'ma warn you that Franky is very guarded. She's been hurt by many people in her life including this recent setback," Meg says.
"I know," Bridget agrees.
"So, don't be alarmed if she snaps on you outta the blue or if her defenses are up. It's how she protects herself from further hurt. Also, hear me clearly when I say this, you will spend a lot of your time reassuring her that your love for her is real. No matter how many times you have to do it just be patient and know that she really needs that to be okay. If you're not up for the challenge I suggest you back out now," Meg adds.
"I'm up for it, I can handle Francesca," Bridget replies with confidence.
Meg gets in the black Cadillac Escalade EXT, with tinted windows and shuts the door. Rain had started pouring and a bad storm was brewing. Meg keeps her eyes on Bridget as she pulls out of the car park.
“What do you reckon?” the bloke in the driver’s seat asks.
“Follow her,” Meg instructs.
The bloke shoots her a confused glare. “Follow her?” he repeats. “Where?”
“Francesca’s safehouse,” Meg replies.
“Did Bridget say that’s where she is?” he asks.
“Nah and I’m sure if Franky gave her the address, she swore Bridget to secrecy. And I didn’t bother asking cos Bridget has stars in her eyes. She’s in love with Franky,” Meg informs.
“How do you feel about that?” the bloke asks. “Being that she’s your best friend and Franky’s your mentee?”
“Honestly, Craig, I think if Franky has decided she’s ready to walk away from the dark world that we got her involved in. Bridget is the absolute best person for her,” Meg explains. “Bridget will help guide her and keep her motivated while loving her all at the same time.”
“Why are we following her then?” Craig asks.
“Cos a storm is brewing and if she’s going to see Franky, I wanna make sure she gets there safely. Let her and Franky have a few days to themselves while we put together a plan to sort out that other issue.”
Rain pours as Bridget pulls in front of her house, having nothing to shield her from getting wet, she exhales deeply and braces herself. She gets out of the car and dashes to the house as fast as she can. Once inside she shakes the rain off, hurries to her bedroom, then her bathroom, grabs a towel and wipes herself dry. Afterward she hurries around the room, grabbing two duffle bags from her closet and starts packing clothes, hygiene products, her laptop, and other necessities. She grabs the umbrella by her door and carries the duffle bags and laptop to the car, then returns to the house to grab the brand-new bottles of wine she’d just brought a few days. She quickly places the bottles of wine in the front seat. As she pulls away from the house, she considers calling or texting Franky but changes her mind.
“Nah, I’ll surprise her instead,” she says out loud and turns on the radio as she carefully makes the journey to her true love.
Chapter 24: Chapter Twenty-Four
Franky lays on the bed with her head propped on her elbows, flipping through the channels on the T.V. with the sound on mute while allowing the pouring rain on the roof top and windowsills to relax and soothe her soul. She had started to drift off to sleep when a knock on her front door awakess her. Confused and paranoid, she grabs the Glock equipped with a noise suppressor off her dresser and slowly tiptoes into the living room.
Having no peephole and refusing to pull back the curtains to the front windows in order to avoid tipping off the intruder, Franky removes the safety, cocks the gun back and grips the handle tight, then turns the knob, and slowly opens the door, aiming the gun with intent to inflict bodily harm.
Bridget stands there holding an umbrella and staring the barrel of a large gun. “Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!” she shrieks. No longer worried about the rain pouring on her, she drops the umbrella and throws both hands in the air.
Instantly recognizing the voice, Franky lowers the gun. “What the fuck!” Franky also shrieks. “Bridget…I coulda killed you! What are you doing here?”
“You…you invited me, remember?” Bridget stutters breathing hard. Her heart was racing from the reality that the barrel of a gun had only been inches away from her nose.
Franky takes the magazine of bullets out of the gun, then clicks it back releasing the bullet in the chamber in her free hand, then clicks the safety back on, and finally places the extra bullet back inside the magazine and sets it on the TV stand.
“Yeah, but when I didn’t hear from you, I assumed you flaked. I was gutted but I brushed it off and decided to go to bed.” Franky motions to her long-sleeve pajama outfit.
“I wanted to surprise you,” Bridget says.
“Geeze, Bridget.” Franky sighs and pulls Bridget into her arm, holding her close. Bridget realizes that Franky’s heart is also racing. “Damn, I coulda killed ya!” Franky says again this time her tone was filled with guilt.
Bridget steps back a little, looks into Franky’s face and sees tears flooding her eyes. She holds Franky’s face and kisses her, then wipes her tears as they start to fall. “It’s okay, it’s my fault, I shoulda called first.”
“No, I’m glad you’re here.” Franky pulls away from Bridget, sniffles and gets serious. “But if you’re here to play games, I’m not in the mood. And you can turn around and go back where you came from.”
Bridget frowns and holds Franky’s gaze. “You really think I’d drive this far in that kinda weather…” She points toward the dark clouds, rain and thunder. “Just to play games with you?”
Franky shrugs. “I certainly hope not. So, where ya bags?”
“In the car,” Bridget says. “I was hoping you could help me get em.”
Franky nods. “Hold this.” Franky places the gun in Bridget’s hand. “Give me your keys. I’ma pull ya car into the garage and get your bags. Make yourself at home and get dry.”
“Nah, I think I’ll wait for you so you can take this thing back,” Bridget says with shaky hands. She’d never in her forty years ever been that close to a gun, let alone held one. She hands Franky her keys.
“You’ll be right,” Franky says, then hurries to the back of the house into her bedroom.
She slips on her shoes, a jacket and grabs her keys to open the garage. Then she dashes out of the house in the rain that starts picking up again. She backs Bridget’s car into the garage, parks it next to her car and notices the bottles of wine in the front seat, she files that in her mind to address later.
Being that Franky was quite strong, she was able to bring the two duffle bags and the laptop bag into the house in one trip. Franky sets Bridget’s bags on the bed in the guest room and finds Bridget standing exactly where she left her, holding the gun like it was a nuclear bomb ready to explode in her hand at any moment. Franky can’t help but laugh at her timidness and innocence.
“Give me that,” Franky says still laughing. She grabs Bridget’s hand holding the gun gently. “You’re so fuckin cute when you’re nervous,” Franky jokes biting her bottom lip, she takes the gun and grabs the magazine of bullets off the TV counter. “You’ve never held a gun before?”
Bridget shakes her head. “My dad and brothers shielded me from those type of things, guns, hunting, camping, bikes all that shit was deemed for blokes according to my dad and brothers.”
Franky smirks. “Wow, okay, that’s something to file away for later.”
“I don’t even wanna know the thoughts swarming in that sneaky mind of yours,” Bridget replies.
“Good cos I ain’t gonna tell you. Now come on so I can get you warm and dry before you catch pneumonia.” Franky takes her hand and guides Bridget to her master bathroom inside her bedroom. “I’ll bring ya bags in here if you like?” Franky offers.
“Yes, please,” Bridget agrees smiling.
Franky brings her bags into the bathroom and decides to run her a nice, hot bubble bath. Franky takes this time to bring up the topic of the wine. “I thought we agreed to cut back on the grog, Spunky?”
Bridget turns facing Franky while unbuttoning her blouse and shedding it. “I haven’t had a drink since that night at the pub, Scouts Honor.”
Franky turns her lips to the side. “What’s with the Shiraz and Pinot in the car?”
“I just brought ‘em in case we need an extra buzz or something, ya know,” Bridget replies.
Franky walks over to Bridget, stands behind her and pulls her into arms, holding her so close and tight Bridget can feel Franky’s pelvis pressing against her backside and the heat rising off her mid region.
“Is this alright?” Franky asks.
Bridget nods unable to form any words, she’d dreamed and fantasized about being in Franky’s arms like this since the first time they met, and the feeling was even better than she imagined.
“Trust me, baby, with my touch and kisses all over this sexy body that’s the only buzz you’ll need while you’re here.” Franky gently bites Bridget’s earlobe and caresses both of her breasts gently as her mouth moves down to Bridget’s neck and starts sucking her sweet spot, sending shivers through her veins and chills up her spine.
“Ummm…” Bridget moans feeling her pussy get wetter than it has been in a long time.
“I can show you, if you like?” Franky says.
As the heat steady rises between the two, Bridget suddenly has a change of heart and grabs Franky’s hand stopping her tease. Then she moves away and turns to face her. “I’m…I’m not…not ready, yet,” Bridget pants already becoming undone by the small intimate touches and kisses provided to her body.
Franky raises her brows and sucks her teeth. “Ya sure cos that’s not what your body says.”
“Franky…I can’t not yet, baby.” Bridget continues and walks over to the tub, where she starts unbuttoning her pants and slips off her shoes.
Franky rolls her eyes. “Alright, well, there are cloths and towels in this cabinet.” She points to the cabinet next to the sink. “I’ll be in the bedroom.”
“Franky, you don’t have to go,” Bridget says.
“Yeah…yeah, I do. If I stay, I’m not sure I’ll be able to control my urges.” Franky responds and turns to exit the bathroom.
As the door to the bathroom closes, Bridget smiles deviously. She has every intention of being intimate with Franky, but she didn’t want to let her know that just yet.
Franky turns the TV off in her bedroom and lays in bed. She exhales deeply and rubs her hair out of her face, she was gutted that she wouldn’t be able to get in Bridget’s pants tonight, but she hoped Bridget couldn’t sense it, she didn’t want to do anything to push her away.
Her intent was to wait for Bridget to get out of the bathroom and at least be able to press up against her warm, soft body as they cuddle and drift into blissfulness. But as soon as she laid her head against the pillow, within minutes she was out for the count.
Bridget smiles as she rubs the new loufa she’d found in Franky’s cabinet over her skin with the scented bubbles Franky added to her water. Bridget hums a little while she enjoys her bath, she was hoping Franky would come back after bringing her bag into the bathroom, but she hadn’t got that wish yet. After realizing Franky wasn’t coming back, Bridget finishes her bath, lotions her skin and sprays on perfume. Lastly, she fixes her hair as neatly as possible, brushes her teeth and gargles, then applies lip gloss to her lips.
She remains naked, then covers herself with one of the robes hanging in Franky’s bathroom. Bridget carries her bag back to the guest room, tiptoes into the master suite where Franky was and opens the door. The room is pitch black, she didn’t need to know what Franky was doing, she could hear her snoring from the doorway.
“Shit!” Bridget grumbles disappointed.
Bridget goes back into the guest room, takes off the robe and removes her gown from her bag. She slips it on, tiptoes back into Franky’s room, then eases in bed next to her. Feeling her body next to her was the greatest feeling besides making love as far as she was concerned and that was enough to help her fall asleep.
When Bridget awakes the next morning, she surprisingly finds Franky still asleep with one arm wrapped tight around Bridget’s waist and her head rested comfortably on her shoulder, which wasn’t hard considering their height difference.
Bridget looks over at the clock on the nightstand it reads 7: 32 a.m. This was the latest she’d ever slept for years. She tries to ease out of bed, but Franky tightens her hold around Bridget’s waist and snuzzles closer, then softly kisses the back of her neck and her exposed shoulders.
“Where ya going, Gidge? Tryna do a runner on me already?” Franky’s voice fills the room.
Bridget shakes her head. “Just going to go see what’s in the kitchen for breakfast.”
“I haven’t gone to the shop yet,” Franky comments now opening her eyes looking down at Bridget.
“Well, you ran me a bath last night, I wanna return the favor. Then I’m going to the market to get some groceries. Anything particular you’d like or not like?” Bridget says.
“I have what I want and like right here…right now,” Franky replies.
“I meant to eat…” As soon as that phrase escapes Bridget mouth, she realizes how it sounds.
Franky confirms her thoughts. “You mean besides you?” Franky bites her bottom lip and gazes at her with lust filled eyes.
Bridget laughs lightly. “I walked right into that one, huh?”
“Yeah, you sorta did,” Franky replies. “So, what do ya say, Gidge? One round to get the day started off right?”
Bridget removes Franky’s arm from around her. “Unfortunately, I won’t be any good without my morning coffee and some food in my system.”
Franky closes her eyes and lightly bangs her head on the headboard. “Come on for fuck’s sake. You gotta be kidding me?”
Bridget kisses her lips gently and holds her gaze. “Baby, just hang in there, I promise when we finally make love, it’ll be worth the wait.”
Franky nods. “It better be! Now let me get dressed so I can go to the shops with you.”
“You don’t have to,” Bridget says.
“I know, but I want to. Do you have a problem with me tagging along or something?” Franky inquires.
“Nah, I just want you to be relaxed and comfortable,” Bridget responds. “So, I’ma run that bath for you and head out.”
Franky finally gives in. “Well, who am I to turn down the royal treatment? Honestly, it’s nice for once.”
This catches Bridget off guard, she looks at Franky with a smirk. “So, you’re telling me all the women you’ve been with no one has ever run you a bath?”
Franky shakes her head slowly. “Nah, but it’s alright. I’ve always been the giver, so that’s why this is all a little weird for me.”
Bridget climbs back over to Franky and holds her face. “Get used to it cos I like to give to my woman just as much as I receive. Now come on.” Bridget takes Franky’s hand, pulls her out of bed and guides her to the bathroom.
She starts removing Franky’s clothes.
Franky grabs her hand stopping her.
“Did I do something wrong?” Bridget asks taking her hand off Franky’s clothes.
Franky shakes her head and looks away then looks at the floor. “I…I…have scars,” she says slowly. “I’m not usually embarrassed but…but…you do something to me that makes me…makes me wanna be my best. I don’t want you feeling pity or disgust…” Bridget stops her words with a kiss.
Bridget lifts her chin and meets her eyes. “Show me,” she requests.
Franky exhales deep, then slowly unbuttons her pajama shirt and takes it off even slower.
Bridget’s mouth drops as her sights set on Franky’s muscular, perfectly toned arms, shoulders and abs, along with her succulent, mouth watering breasts. As if that wasn’t enough the tattoos on each arm and the full torso and side flower tattoo made her even sexier. Bridget can’t really see the red circles that the tattoo hadn’t covered until she gets close and starts fully examining her lover’s flesh. It was at this moment Bridget realizes why women flocked over Franky. The more she stares at her body and runs her hand along her soft, moist, skin, Bridget’s pussy throbs and heat radiates through her entire body.
“Um…um…what happened?” Bridget finally asks, still caressing her skin and circling the bruises.
“My mum burned me with cigarettes before I was taken from her,” Franky replies.
Instead of offering an apology, Bridget holds Franky’s face and stares seriously into her green eyes. “You are beautiful, baby. You are perfect.”
Franky wraps her arms around Bridget and presses her nose against Bridget’s nose. They stay there for quite sometime indulged in the moment. When they finally break a part, Franky has tears in her eyes and Bridget gently kisses them away.
“For a bad ass, serial killer, you are a softie,” Bridget jokes.
Franky pulls her in close and smiles. “First off, not a serial killer. Serial killers, kill people…innocent people for no reason. I am contracted to kill people who has harmed or wronged someone,” Franky explains. “Secondly, I’m only like this around you. I don’t know what it is, Spunky, but you do something to me. Something I haven’t yet been able to put into words.”
“Could that something be love?” Bridget questions.
Franky shrugs. “It could be a number of things. If it is love, just like you’re not ready to go to second base with me yet for your reasons. I’m not ready to let those words slip outta my mouth again so soon. I am very careful about that four-letter word now. In the past when I used it all hell broke loose and I’m still paying the consequences. So, I’ma need a little time.”
“Understood,” Bridget says. “Okay, how about this. We let our hearts lead for the time we have together and see where it takes us. No games…no strings…no holding back.”
Franky smiles and nods. “Agreed.”
“Good! Now take the rest of those clothes off,” Bridget demands then bites her lips. “I wanna see what my potential future wife is working with.”
“Beautiful, bossy, and kinky. Damn, I hit the jack pot,” Franky says and strips naked quickly.
These next few chapters will be of Bridget and Franky getting to know each other and expressing their love for one another and officially becoming Fridget. So, I hope you all don't have an issue or get bored with that. Just want them to have their time together before all breaks looses!
Chapter 26: Chapter Twenty-Six
My Apologies For The Delay. It's been a crazy few weeks...hope y'all enjoy! As Always Your Support Is Much Appreciated!
Franky paces the living room dressed in grey sweats and a matching grey and white sports bra and sneakers. Her hair is layered over her shoulders, her skin is moistened by shea butter and Jasmine perfume floods the air with each step she takes.
"Where the fuck is she?" Franky mumbles.
She sits down on the couch and taps her foot then she grabs her burner phone and calls Bridget's number.
"You've reached Bridget Westfall. I'm not able to answer the phone at the moment. If this an emergency, please hang up and seek medical assistance. Otherwise leave a message and I will call you back at my earliest convenience."
"Where are you? What's taking so long? Please let me know you're okay!" Franky says and hangs up.
Hearing thunder rumble, followed by lightning and pouring rain all sorts of thoughts swarm her mind.
"Fuck this." Franky jumps up and hurries to her room.
She grabs her gun, keys, and an umbrella. Just as she opens the kitchen door to enter the garage, the garage door opens and Bridget's car backs in.
Franky releases a heavy sigh of relief. Then throws up both arms in a what the fuck gesture as she and Bridget lock eyes.
Bridget gets out of her car and opens the back door while Franky stands on the steps still staring at her.
"What's wrong, why are you looking at me like that?" Bridget asks, grabbing two paper bags from the seat.
"I'll get em," Franky says finally moving down the steps. She approaches Bridget and pulls her into her arms embracing her. "I thought something had happened to you. You ain't get my message?"
"I forgot to charge my phone last night and it died. Then on the way back traffic was a little bad. But I'm glad I got back before the storm started," Bridget explains.
"I was worried about you," Franky admits.
"I'm sorry," Bridget replies, seeing the fear in Franky's eyes. "You smell so good by the way." Bridget takes in her amazing scent, getting tingles between her legs.
Franky just smiles at Bridget's comment as she takes the six grocery bags in the house two at a time.
"So, what are we having for breakfast?" Franky asks.
"What do you want?" Bridget questions.
Franky bites her bottom lip and winks. "You know the answer to that already."
Bridget closes the space between them and kisses Franky, then trails her hand over her exposed flesh and the lining of her cherry blossom tattoo sending chills through Franky's body.
"In due time baby...promise." Bridget pulls away from Franky. "In the meantime, why don't you find a movie we can watch, while I get breakfast started?"
"You are such a tease…you're so fucking lucky you're cute." Franky smacks her ass as she walks off.
Bridget takes a moment to gather herself, she crosses her legs to control the heat and moisture radiating through her. She wanted Franky so bad, but she couldn't let her on to that just yet. She wanted Franky to work for it. She was certain that Franky never had to work to fuck anyone she fancied her entire life.
An half hour or so later, Bridget sets a tray of French toast on the dining room table that was set up just for four people along with bacon, link sausages, scrambled eggs and half glasses of apple juice.
Franky had been in the living room trying to watch TV, so she'd stay out of Bridget's way.
After setting up she and Franky's plates across from each other, Bridget enters the living room and walks over to Franky. Franky stays quiet and just gazes into her eyes as Bridget kisses her lips, then pulls her up by her hand and guides her into the dining room.
"Breakfast is served, my love," Bridget says.
"It looks great," Franky says.
Bridget pulls her chair out for her, then goes to her side of the table. “So, what do you want to do after breakfast?”
“You mean brunch?” Franky corrects.
“Yeah, I guess…” Bridget nods.
“I found a show we can watch if you’re keen?” Franky inquires.
“Always, and I might squeeze a quick nap in too. We’ve did have an early start today,” Bridget replies. “We’ll be well rested for dinner…which I’m also cooking by the way.”
“So, you ain’t gonna let me do nothing while you’re around? First the bubble bath, breakfast and now dinner? I could get used to being spoiled like this,” Franky flashes that killer smile.
“I can’t believe they just let her die like that,” Franky says fighting the tears forming in her eyes.
“She didn’t want to renew her contract, so they had no choice,” Bridget explains. “But they could have given us a less tragic ending to such a great character.”
Franky and Bridget spent the past two days binge watching McLeod Daughters and was now on the last episode of season three.
“Are you crying?” Bridget asks looking up at Franky.
Franky cuddles her close in her arms and kisses her forehead. “I’d die if something like that ever happened to you.”
“No worries,” Bridget says.
“Can we sleep now? Cos I’m sorta tired,” Franky says and yawns as if on reflex then pauses the TV.
“I was hoping we could talk first,” Bridget says sitting up on her elbows, eyeing Franky.
Franky smirks and also rests on her elbows, gazing into Bridget’s beautiful, alluring eyes. “What do ya wanna talk about, Spunky?”
“Well, you say this is your safe house, right?” Bridget replies.
“Yeah, that’s right,” Franky answers.
“What do you need to keep safe from and should I be worried?” Bridget moves a strand of dark hair out of Franky’s face without breaking eye contact.
“No, you shouldn’t be worried while you’re here. Hints the word safe house, meaning you’re safe, Gidge, no worries,” Franky answers. “And to answer your other question which I was eventually gonna talk to you about anyway. I was just waiting for the right time, so since you’ve broke the ice, I guess the time is now. I’m leaving the organization. I came here for a few weeks to sort my thoughts and put a plan in motion before telling the organization.”
“So, what exactly are your plans, baby? Do you know yet?” Bridget asks. “Maybe if you tell me I can help?”
“Nah, I have to sort this myself. I’ma big girl and I gotta start acting like it. I just know that whatever I do has to make amends for some of the lives I’ve taken,” Franky replies. “Of course, I’d have to get my HSC first. Then maybe law or social work.” Franky shrugs. “Haven’t made up mind yet.”
“Well, my offer to help is still on the table, just remember that,” Bridget assures.
Franky bites her bottom lip and her eyes fill with lust. “You wanna help, do ya?”
“I do.” Bridget nods.
“Well, you know what I need.” Franky trails her hand along Bridget’s thigh.
Bridget smiles and removes Franky hand off her thigh. “So, about that nap, eh?”
“Right, still playin’ hard to get? That’s two days in a row now,” Franky informs.
“If you hang on a bit, I have a surprise for you later,” Bridget replies.
Franky pulls Bridget into her arms and kisses her passionately. “A surprise, care to share?”
Bridget caresses Franky’s face. “Then it wouldn’t be a surprise, now, would it?”
“Guess not,” Franky agrees, exhaling. “I reckon, I’ma have to work on the patience thing a bit now that I’m with you.”
“I thought assassins specialized in patience?” Bridget inquires.
“Yeah, when it comes to tracking and killing our targets. But other things not so much,” Franky confesses.
“Well, if you wait a little longer, it’ll all make sense, trust me,” Bridget says.
“Guess I ain’t gotta choice, eh,” Franky concludes.
Chapter 27: Chapter Twenty-Seven
Bridget smiles bright as she fills the two champagne glasses halfway with apple cider.
“Perfect,” she says softly.
Bridget goes back into the house, upon hearing noises again Franky stands at the closed bedroom door, then cracks it and peeks her head out.
“Can I come out now!” Franky yells.
“Not yet,” Bridget calls back collecting the remaining items from the kitchen.
Franky sucks her teeth, shuts the door back and sits on her bed, kicking her feet like a spoiled child and pouting.
A few minutes later, Bridget enters the room, seeing Franky sitting on the bed, arms folded, lips pouted and both feet knocking the side of the bed like a child, Bridget can’t help but bust into laughter.
“What you laughing at?” Franky asks pausing her feet.
“You sitting there looking like a four year old who didn’t get the toy they wanted on Christmas.” Bridget laughs harder.
“Oh, you think you’re funny, do ya?” Franky questions getting off the bed, approaching her.
“No, but you are cute when you’re like this, sexy even,” Bridget compliments, holding her face and gaze. “But I am ready now, so close your eyes, in fact put a hand over them,” Bridget instructs.
“Seriously?” Franky shrugs.
“Yes, or you can wait longer. Your choice,” Bridget replies.
“Alright, but it better be worth it,” Franky responds. She closes her eyes and places one hand over them.
Bridget escorts her out of the room with the other hand.
Before Franky can get irritated, she feels the breeze from outside. She decides not to ask any more questions and waits until Bridget reveals her surprise.
Bridget escorts Franky out onto her veranda patio porch and guides her to the middle, then stops. “Okay, you can look now,” Bridget says still holding Franky’s hand.
Franky removes her hand and slowly opens her eyes, then her mouth drops as she scans her patio. Franky stares at the ensemble Bridget has put together and takes in the lovely aroma from the assortment of candles and food.
The patio is decorated with a blue blanket laid flat on it, matching blue and white round and square throw pillows with a large picnic basket in the middle, plates, utensils, and champagne glasses are set and a bottle of Apple Cider along with red and white rose petals scattered about and lit scented candles on the table nearby.
“I know you’re not into sooky stuff and it might now be much but…”
Franky closes the space between them, grabs Bridget by the back of the neck, stalling her words and passionately kisses her while slipping her tongue in her mouth.
“It’s more than enough,” Franky says when they break the kiss. “Wow, can’t believe you did all this for me.”
Bridget stares into her eyes. “Of course, I did, you’re worth it, darling.” Bridget kisses her lips again.
“This is why you were late earlier, isn’t it?” Franky assumes.
“Yes, I wanted to do a beach picnic but as you can see…” Bridget and Franky look up into the dark skies looming close by. “With the weather forecasting rain for the foreseeable future I didn’t want to risk the chance of the picnic being ruined so I brought the theme out here instead.”
Franky nods and smiles. “It’s funny, I’ve had this house for about five years and never once been out here.”
“Well, I’m glad this is one of many firsts we can share together,” Bridget says. “Now let’s sit down and eat before the food gets cold.”
“Good on ya, let’s see what chef Bridget has on the menu for tonight,” Franky agrees.
Bridget guides Franky over to the blanket and they slowly take a seat unable to break eye contact.
Bridget opens the picnic basket and removes a small Tupperware bowl, a medium square Tupperware dish, then finally a medium glass dish, topped with a plastic topping. She removes the tops off each dish revealing a delicious looking lasagna, homemade garlic-breadsticks and marinara sauce. Lastly, she pulls out a bowl with a fresh salad in with Balsamic dressing and croutons.
“That smells great,” Franky comments.
“My favorite four cheese, meat lasagna,” Bridget replies.
“Alright, well, let’s see how it tastes,” Franky suggests.
Bridget uses the spatula she’d brought in the picnic basket and cuts Franky a piece of lasagna, then adds a large cooking spoon full of salad to her plate and two breadsticks and marinara sauce on a separate dish.
For the next half hour, Franky and Bridget eat, feed each other, talk, and laugh together. Franky downs her apple cider in one gulp.
“Ya know what I think I need something stronger. Go pop the cork on that Cav Sav. On second thought, I’ll do it, it’s the least I can do,” Franky offers.
“No, I’ll get it. This is my dinner for you, remember? I’m the host, so let me cater to you my love,” Bridget requests.
“Righto, if you insist,” Franky agrees.
“Besides I need to grab the dessert out the fridge.” Bridget gets up and heads back inside the house.
This gives her the chance to add the final touch to the night’s events. She returns onto the patio a short while later carrying the bottle of wine in one hand and a slice of caramel cheesecake with whipped cream topping in the other hand.
Franky blushes as Bridget passes the saucer to her.
“For me?” Franky asks taking the plate.
“Who else?” Bridget answers smiling.
“I don’t know what I did to deserve this…to deserve you but I can get used to this,” Franky says.
“Think I’ve heard that before,” Bridget answers beaming.
“You’re not having dessert?” Franky asks as Bridget fills their glasses with the red liquid.
“Yes, just not right now,” Bridget answers. “You enjoy yourself, no worries about me.”
Being that cheesecake is her favorite dessert, Franky dives into and upon letting the spoon touch the whipped cream her spoon clangs against something hard and metal. She scoops that portion up and uses her finger to find the hidden treasure.
Franky holds up the silver ring with the square cut emerald diamond and several tiny clear diamonds on each side of the band. “Is this what I think it is?”
“I was wondering where that got to?” Bridget takes the ring from Franky and uses a napkin to wipe the whipped cream off.
Before Franky can say anything else, Bridget kneels before her with a serious look on her face. “This is another reason I was late. I was site seeing in town and when I saw this, I instantly thought of you. I knew this was meant to be yours. Look, Franky, I realize we barely know one another, but I have known that I wanted a future with you since you rocked up at my brother’s wedding and now…” Bridget pauses seeing the frown on Franky’s face. “Did I say something wrong?”
Franky puts the plate down and jumps up. “I need some air,” Franky says. She storms off the patio and sprints toward the beach.
Bridget wants to chase after her but decides against it, figuring she’d give Franky time to sort out whatever was wrong. “Well, Bridget, guess you really stuffed up this time?” she mumbles as she starts cleaning and putting things away.
As the sun went down, the rain started, and Franky hadn’t gotten back it was Bridget’s turn to worry. Bridget sat on the couch, legs crossed, watching the clock on the wall above the fireplace. She grabs the purple velvet box the ring was originally in off the table, opens it and stares at it with tears in her eyes
“Was it too much too soon?” Bridget asks aloud and exhales, then shuts the box back, placing it on the table same as before.
Deciding she couldn’t wait any longer without knowing if Franky was okay. Bridget grabs her red jacket, an umbrella, and her keys. She gets in her car and goes looking for Franky. After driving around for almost twenty minutes and not finding Franky, Bridget heads back. On her way back to the safe house, she sees Franky walking along the road leading toward the beach. Although the rain wasn’t pouring Bridget can tell Franky’s wet and cold. She honks the horn and stops alongside her.
Seeing Bridget’s car, Franky rubs the damp hair out of her face and gets in with a blank stare as she shuts the door.
“You alright?” Bridget asks.
Franky simply nods while fastening her seatbelt.
“You look cold,” Bridget critiques.
Again, Franky nods.
Bridget leaves well enough alone and just drives the rest of the way back to the safehouse. As she drives, she reaches over and grabs Franky’s hand. To her surprise, Franky intertwines her fingers with Bridget’s and holds onto tight. Bridget smiles pleased that Franky didn’t reject her or push her hand away.
“I’m glad I found you, Francesca.” Bridget leaves it at that hoping Franky catches on to her declaration.
Chapter 28: Chapter Twenty-Eight
“You know this is the second time you’ve gotten me outta my clothes since you’ve been here,” Franky says as she stands in front of the fireplace that Bridget had lit in nothing but a matching red bra and panties set and red socks. “Are you tryna tell me something, Gidge?”
“I just wanted to get you dry and warm, so you don’t catch a cold,” Bridget answers.
“So, you say.” Franky teasingly bites her bottom lip.
“So, you’re just gonna act as if earlier didn’t happen?” Bridget looks at Franky with anger in her eyes.
“Not following,” Franky feigns confusion.
“When you ran off earlier,” Bridget reminds. “I was proposing and…”
“And I was saving you,” Franky quickly cuts her off.
This surprises Bridget, she raises her brows. “Saving me?” she repeats as if she’d heard wrong and Franky nods. “Saving me from what?”
“Pain,” Franky blurts.
Bridget still didn’t understand. She grabs Franky’s hand and leads her over to the couch. They both sit down, then Bridget stares deeply into her eyes. “Talk to me, baby, please.”’
“Look, Gidge, you’re great…too great in fact and I’m no fuckin good at relationships,” Franky confesses. “Someone always fucks around and gets hurt.”
Bridget holds Franky face gently. “I realize this is all new…”
Franky cuts her off again. “Not to mention the next few days are gonna be crazy once the organization finds out I’m leaving. I’d hate for you to get caught in the crossfire of anything due to my decisions. I don’t want you harmed in anyway, Gidge.” Franky exhales deeply and fights the growing tears. “I love you so fuckin much it scares the fuck outta me.”
Bridget nods and smiles. “Ah, now I get it. You know in my profession I see a lot of people in your same position. Who were neglected, abused or abandoned as a child and they get to the point where they feel like they don’t know how to love or be loved.”
“I don’t deserve you, Bridget. I’ve always known that,” Franky comments.
“Well, that’s too fuckin bad because I love you, Francesca Doyle. I’m in love with you and there’s nothing you can do or say to change my mind.” Bridget releases her face and kisses her.
“I don’t ever wanna ruin or break something as precious as you,” Franky continues.
“Well, I believe anything worth having is worth fighting for and working hard for. I realized I was for sure in love with you, the night you called me to assist when Arynn had her seizure. Seeing how you took time caring for her as well as me, confirmed that you were worth fighting for. I’m willing to put in whatever it takes to make this work. But I can’t make you want me, Franky, you have to decide that for yourself,” Bridget explains.
Franky holds the back of Bridget’s neck and smirks. “I do want you, I’m just…”
Bridget cuts her off, “Then that’s all that matters. So, how about not focusing on the fear. And we just take things one day at a time.”
“Fine but I hope you don’t look up a year from now and regret this,” Franky says.
“No chance in hell, baby,” Bridget confirms. “Now can I pick up where we left off earlier?”
“You know I never saw myself as the marrying type, but if that day ever came, I always thought I’d be the one popping the question,” Franky explains.
“Does it really matter?” Bridget asks shrugging.
“Nope, long as I know you’re mine that’s all I give a fuck about,” Franky admits.
“Good.” Bridget grabs the box off the table and kneels in front of Franky. “Not gonna do the long speech this time. Francesca, I love you! I don’t know what the future will hold for us. I understand not knowing can be scary, but whatever happens and whatever journeys we take I can’t see myself doing them without you. So, if you’re keen, I’d be honored to become Mrs. Francesca Doyle!”
Franky looks down at Bridget and the beautiful ring. She nods a yes, as the tears she’d been fighting back pours down her face.
Bridget places the ring on Franky’s finger and leans up kissing her passionately. After a few moments she breaks the kiss and steps back. “I have one more surprise for you.”
“All these surprises is gonna make it hard to top Christmas and my birthday,” Franky jokes.
Bridget smiles. “I’m sure we’ll manage,” Bridget replies. “Now come on, baby.” Bridget takes Franky by the hand and leads her back into the bedroom. She pushes Franky down on the bed. “I’ma go change, stay there.”
Franky raises both hands. “Not going anywhere…promise. Do I need to close my eyes this time too?”
“Not yet, I’ll tell you when,” Bridget answers.
“You ready?” Bridget calls from the bathroom about thirty minutes later.
“Always ready,” Franky replies. “Eyes covered and all.”
Bridget emerges from the bathroom and sees Franky with both hands over her eyes. “Okay, you can look now.”
Franky slowly removes her hands and instantly her eyes bulge and her mouth drops. Bridget stands before wearing the sexiest blue lingerie that Franky had ever seen causing every part of her body to heat up.
“God!” Franky is unable to take her eyes off Bridget. “You’re beautiful.” She was about to get off the bed until Bridget’s voice stops her.
“Did I say you could get up?” Bridget snaps.
“Uh…nah.” Franky shakes her head and sits back down on the edge of the bed.
Bridget walks over to her, raises her foot that was adorned with a sexy pair of blue heels, matching her lingerie. She points the tip of her toe gently into Franky’s chest, pushing her further down onto the bed.
Franky massages her legs and looks up into Bridget’s eyes. “Tell me what you want me to do?”
Bridget was glad Franky was still halfway naked, she could see her nipples perking up through the thin fabric of her bra as they grew harder by the second. Bridget drops her foot and leans into Franky kissing her and sliding her tongue in her mouth.
“I want you to make love to me, Francesca,” Bridget replies breaking the kiss.
Franky leans up a bit, grabs Bridget’s neck and stares into her eyes. “You know when you say my name like that it drives me crazy. I’ve never let anyone call me Francesca except you and the boss of the organization, but I love the way you say it.”
“Francesca!” Bridget repeats.
Franky puts her foot down, wraps her arms around Bridget’s waist and pulls her down onto her lap. She stares at her for a few moments, then finally stands up still cradling Bridget in her arms and turns her around, laying her down on the bed. As she uses her feet to push Bridget’s legs apart, she slowly starts kissing her while massaging her breasts through the lingerie top.
“I’ve wanted you for so long,” Franky says and moves down kissing Bridget’s neck. “Hope you’re ready, Spunky,” Franky teases pausing her kisses.
“I am,” Bridget moans.
“Good! Cos, I’ma paint every inch of your beautiful, sexy arse body with as many hickies as I can. Just call me Picasso.” Franky bites down on her bottom lips and Bridget blushes.
Bridget didn’t know which was more intense, Franky’s gaze, her touch, her kiss or her ability to always say the right things at the right times. She was everything Bridget needed, wanted, and desired and sealing their union with intimacy was the best thing for both of them.
After kissing and sucking both sides of Bridget’s neck, leaving passion marks, Franky moves down and snatches off the lingerie and starts sucking one nipple after the other and repeating the process. Feeling Bridget squirm underneath her and close her eyes, then moan, Franky sucks two fingers into her mouth and slips them inside Bridget’s tight, warm, opening that’s so wet her juices leak out on Franky’s hand.
“Um…that…that feels so…so good!” Bridget moans louder, gyrating her hips to Franky’s thrust.
Franky continues kissing Bridget on her stomach, side, hips, thighs, legs, feet and finally back up to where Bridget needed and wanted her the most.
“Geez…you…you were amazing,” Bridget panted resting her head on Franky’s sweaty chest as they recuperate.
“So, were you,” Franky says massaging her hair and kissing Bridget’s sweaty forehead. “You know when I first met you on that elevator, I felt like my heart was gonna explode but I couldn’t let you know that cause I never in a million years thought someone like you would choose someone like me.”
“Why are you always selling yourself short?” Bridget asks looking up into her fiance’s beautiful eyes.
“I just never really date outside the organization and probably cause I’ve killed over two hundred people and…”
“And I still choose you,” Bridget cuts in. “I would still choose you even if you’d killed over two thousand people. You were an orphan, Franky, who did what you had to do to survive. Now you’re a grown woman, who knows there more to you than that. You’re honest, kind, smart, strong, and sexy. Who wouldn’t love that?”
Franky pulls Bridget closer and cradles her. “Now that I have you, I’m never gonna let you go. I adore you, Bridget Westfall.”
“I adore you too, Francesca Doyle. Now how about we do less talking and more lovemaking?”
“No worries, love,” Franky agrees. “Beside I still have the rest of your body to cover with those hickies like I promised.” Franky tickles Bridget causing her to laugh out loud like a schoolgirl. “Before we get started, promise you’ll let me put my cooking skills to the test tomorrow?”
Bridget laughs a little louder and nods her head. “Promise…I’m ready to see how good of a cook Chef Francesca is anyway. If it’s anything like your lovemaking, I’m officially the luckiest woman in the world. Hell, I should have never waited so long to take that next level with you.”
“Well, why did ya?” Franky asks not breaking Bridget’s eye contact.
“Cos, I wanted you to earn it first. I wanted to know that I wasn’t just here for a quick root,” Bridget explains.
“I see another test, like when you kept pushing me back to Quinn to see if I could be monogamous?” Franky questions and Bridget nods. “So, did I pass?”
“With flying colors, baby!” Bridget says. “I also wanted you to know how it felt to be on the verge of an orgasm and have it ended abruptly, like you made me feel that morning after the pub incident,” Bridget confesses.
Franky grabs her and tickles her even harder. “You cheeky little rascal,” she says and presses her nose against Bridget’s. “You’re so lucky you’re cute and I love you.”
“I’m not afraid of you, Francesca Doyle,” Bridget teases running her fingers alongside Franky’s cherry blossom tattoo.
“Yeah, okay, we’ll see about that.” Franky goes back under the cover and without warning maneuvers between Bridget’s legs, lifts one of her legs onto her shoulders and plunges her fingers deep inside her love box, administering long, fast, hard thrusts in and out of her walls.
“Uunnhhhh…sss…shit…Fran…Francesca!” Bridget tries to take her legs off Franky’s shoulder to regain some leverage, but Franky prevents her from doing so, by using her free hand and placing the other leg on her shoulder as well. Unable to take it anymore, Bridget stretches her arms and grabs ahold of the bed post, holding on tight while she’s on the verge of her fifth orgasm for the night and counting.
Chapter 29: Chapter Twenty-Nine
Bridget opens her eyes the next morning and reaches for fiancee but feels an empty space instead. She gets up, grabs the robe Franky gave her and covers her naked body then exits the open door of the bedroom. She smells the fresh scent of brewed coffee and smiles, then looks around and sees the open patio door.
Franky stands on the patio, leaning against the post, holding a cuppa, dressed in a mini flannel robe tied in the front, looking at the slight drizzle coming down.
Bridget eases behind her and wraps her arms around Franky, she massages her abdomen and nuzzles her nose into her neck, then kisses her neck.
"Morning, baby," Bridget whispers in her ear.
"Did I wake you?" Franky asks.
"Nah...but I was hoping to awake to some more of those kisses you're so good at giving." Bridget says.
"Ah, well no worries, Spunky, we'll get to that. Just thought I'd get some food in ya first to help keep your stamina up. Trust me you're gonna need it." Franky says. "It's another rainy day today and I plan to spend it cuddling, fucking and loving on my wife to be and not specifically in that order."
Franky turns finally and kisses Bridget, they gaze into each other's eyes as their noses touch.
Bridget boldly slides her hands inside Franky's robe, loving the fact she was naked underneath, she palms her breasts gently, giving her nipples a little twist.
Shockwaves explode through Franky's core, heating her up all over. She licks her lips and breaths to keep her hormones under control.
"You keep that up, you're gonna make me take you right here on this patio." Franky moans into her ear.
"Is that a threat?" Bridget teases.
"Nah, it's a promise," Franky asserts grabbing her ass with both hands, pulling Bridget into her, squeezing it tight.
"Can I taste you?" Bridget asks. "I didn't get the chance last night."
Franky smiled. "You don't ever have to ask, baby. I love a woman that's not afraid to take charge and return the sexual favors. Matter of fact we can start in the shower and make our way to the bedroom."
"Good!" Bridget agrees. "This may be a stupid question...but do you have anything for deep penetration?"
Franky nods and blushes. "Of course, I never leave home without the proper equipment. No worries, love. You wanna be turned out, just say the word."
Bridget laughs and wraps her arms around Franky's neck staring in her eyes, then kisses her.
"Guess I got my answer," Franky says when they break the kiss.
Franky grips the rack inside the walk-in shower and spreads her legs wider, then closes her eyes and let the warm water cascading down on her mixed with Bridget's sweet, wet tongue take her to ecstasy.
"Oohhh...shit!" Franky moans as Bridget eases two fingers inside her opening, pushing them upward and flicking her tongue a little faster and firmer over her clit. "God! Fuck! Fuck!" Franky bites her bottom lip, stifling a squeal as her body shivers and her knees buckle. "Bridge...Bridget...shit, baby. I'm cumming! I'm...I'm…" Tears fill her eyes and she explodes releasing her juices while Bridget continues toying with her pussy and clit showing no mercy.
Bridget feels Franky's breathing escalate and her body convulse, this motivates her to suck and fuck her lovers sacred place more intensely.
Not wanting to risk Franky collapsing in the shower, a few minutes later Bridget finally let's up. She removes her tongue and fingers at the same time and rises to her feet, staring into Franky's twinkling green eyes.
Unable to speak any word, Franky leans in and kisses her passionately.
Without warning Bridget lathers a cloth and starts washing Franky from her neck all the way down.
"I'm so fuckin in love with you." Franky finally says, watching Bridget's every motion.
"Same here, darling...same here, " Bridget replies.
After rinsing the suds off her body, Franky returns the gesture and washes Bridget from head to toe, placing soft kisses on each body part as she washes it.
Bridget stands by Franky's bed with a towel draped around her, watching as Franky opens the mini black suitcase. Her eyes grow wide as the contents inside are finally revealed.
"You definitely did came prepared, eh?" Bridget says pressing her legs together tightly in an attempt to stifle the heat and moisture forming as she stared at the assortment of toys and lubricant on display.
"These are all new," Franky informs. "So, you can pick as many as you want me to use on you."
Without giving it a second thought Bridget grabs the red, jelly double dildo and runs her hands over each end caressing the tips.
"That's the one you want?" Franky asks noticing the change in Bridget's body language.
Bridget nods. "I was thinking we could start with this and work our way up to the strap on. If that's okay?"
"Fine by me," Franky replies. "So, do you wanna be on top or bottom?"
"Can we rotate?" Bridget asks.
"Absolutely." Franky pulls Bridget into her arms. "I’d love to let you put some work in a bit before I wear that arse out."
Bridget laughs then pushes Franky down on the bed.
Franky remembers the suitcase on the bed, but before she can sit up, Bridget grabs a bottle of lubricant, then closes it and sets it on the floor.
Bridget pops the top on the lubricate and squeezes some on each end of the dildo. She examines both ends, even though it was the same in length one end was bigger than the other end. Bridget decides that the smaller end would most likely be the most comfortable for her. She places the tip of the dildo at her opening and slowly eases it into, her walls contracts and locks around it.
“Are you ready?” Bridget asks.
“Uh-huh,” Franky says.
She slides back onto the pillows and gets comfortable then spreads her legs. Bridget climbs up on the bed, between Franky’s legs and stares down into her eyes. “You are gorgeous.”
“So, you’ve said,” Franky replies not breaking eye contact.
Bridget positions the end of the dildo at Franky’s center and pushes inside her slow and steady. Bridget gyrates slowly and intertwines her hands with Franky’s as they remain locked in each other’s gaze.
“Oohhh…shit…shit…shit, Gid…Gidget!” Franky moans moving her hips to the rhythm of Bridget’s strokes.
Franky had never been on the bottom before, and Bridget had never been on the top, so this was a welcomed challenge for both of them.
“You like that, do ya?” Bridget whispers into her ear, pushing further and stroking harder.
“Y…yes…yes…yes!” Franky moans louder, kissing Bridget’s lips. “Harder, baby…harder!”
Bridget grants her requests and thrust harder sending Franky overboard.
“Ooo…ooohhh…geezzz…Bridget…fuck!” Franky squeals as an orgasm rip through her.
Franky wasn’t sure if it was the powerful orgasms searing through her veins, or the love blossoming between she and Bridget. Whatever the case she was sweating, shaking, crying, loving every minute of it, and praying it wouldn’t end any time soon.