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The plane cuts through the sky, the murmur of the engines a backdrop for her husky response. “We shouldn’t.”
She’s right. This isn’t the time or the place.
Yet her breathing doesn’t slow. Her eye contact doesn’t waver.
She smirks. “But we should totally make out.”
Her words are barely out before my lips crash against hers, a kiss laden with all the hunger, reverence, and raw adoration I feel for Frankie Novak.
6
Frankie
—
That night, I step off the yacht in Sitka and tread across the familiar dock. In the rain. In the dark. In the grip of overwhelming memories.
The stone mansion I shared with Monty looms ahead like a beautiful ghost from my past. Every towering tree and winding path on the island bring back flashes of my life.
Before everything changed.
Kody senses the direction of my thoughts and tenses, turning into an impenetrable shield at my side, as if he can fend off the past with sheer will.
“Need a minute?” The look of concern in his eyes cuts through the rain.
I nod because, dammit, the memories are vivid, too vivid, as I’m thrown back to the night I was bound by rope, gagged, and abducted from my bedroom.
Denver carried me to this dock, tripped, lost his grip, and I plunged into the icy water, the darkness enveloping me.
That chill runs through me now, a shiver that’s part dread, part defiance. I thought I knew fear then, but the horrors that awaited were beyond my wildest nightmares.
“The night Denver took me, he dropped me right there.” I point to the churning black water beside the dock. “My arms and legs were tied. I couldn’t swim. I thought I was going to drown.”
“Fuck this.” Leo paces behind me, a caged animal not suited for the confines of the narrow dock. “We don’t have to stay here. It isn’t worth it.”
His instinct to fight often overrides his logical mind. I don’t fault him for it. His instinct saved my life more than once.
“Frankie.” Monty approaches with caution, trying to erase the gap with words that no longer reach me. “If you need—”
“My needs aren’t your concern anymore.” I straighten, meeting his icy blue stare. “You invited us here, and for that, I’m grateful. But I’m doing this at my pace, on my terms.”
His reaction is subtle, a faint tightening of his eyes, a nod of acceptance that doesn’t quite mask the hurt. He steps back, giving me space, respecting the boundary I’ve drawn.
“We’re here with you.” Kody’s hand finds mine, his fingers strong and reassuring. “For whatever you need.”
Leo stops pacing and looks back at the mansion, then at me. “Whatever you decide.”
With a deep breath, I push forward, the rain a curtain parting as we walk through it. I lead the way, toward whatever remains of the past, ready to fight for a future where fear no longer holds dominion over us.
We advance toward the house, the path slick under the downpour. Kody moves with a predator’s agility, scanning the thick brush and shadowed corners of the estate.
He positions himself slightly ahead, his body angled to shield me, every muscle coiled, ready to spring into action at the first hint of danger.
On my other side, Leo matches his vigilance, his eyes darting to the treetops, the hidden alcoves, and back along the path we just traversed.
Then he freezes, his hand moving to his back, a subconscious check for a rifle he no longer carries.
“What is it?” I follow his line of sight, my pulse redoubling.
