Undeniable

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE:

Six thirty eight P.M.

Deuce blinked up at Cox.

"Prez?" Cox whispered hoarsely staring at his cuffed hand.

"My girls?" He asked numbly. "Ivy, Danny?"

"With Kami," Cox whispered. "Where's Foxy?"

"Gone," He said brokenly. "Frankie."

Cox dropped to his knees and tested the cuffs. As if he hadn't already. As if he wasn't missing most of the skin on his hand and hadn't broken all his fingers trying to get out of it. But his hands were too fucking big. So now, he was cuffed to a radiator with a skinless broken hand.

"Gotta get Freebird," He said. "He's the only one who can pick cuffs quickly."

He nodded.

Cox paused at the door. "Deuce," He said quietly. "We're gonna get her back."

He didn't look at him.

"He's a dead man, Prez."

No. Frankie wasn't a dead man. Frankie was a dead man.

☼☼☼

Eleven eleven P.M

Frankie's entire body twitched violently, something that always happened before he went into a violent rage. I stayed where I was, sitting on the motel bed, watching him closely.

"Can't take much more, Eva. You fuckin' Chase broke me and then you start fuckin' the horsemen bastard AGAIN, you have his fuckin' baby and I swear to you I almost killed you a million times. Comin' out of his fuckin' club, playin' with his fuckin' kids in the yard, ridin' on the back of his fuckin' bike. I stood in a line behind you at the bank holding a knife to the base of your fuckin' spine ready to kill you and your bastard baby. But I couldn't fuckin' do it! I couldn’t hurt you! AND IT FUCKIN' BROKE ME EVA!"

"Baby," I whispered, trying hard not to think about Frankie killing my daughter. "The cops know you killed Chase. They're looking for you."

He gave me a look that suggested I was the crazy one in the room. "Babe. Who the fuck cares 'bout the cops?"

Suddenly his eyes bugged out. "You liked fuckin' him, didn't you bitch? You liked rich boy cock!"

"No," I whispered, swallowing hard. "It's what he wanted in return for getting you out."

Frankie laughed. "Glad I made him eat his own cock. Fuckin' deserved it."

Unable to get the imagery of what he had done to Chase out of my head my stomach lurched and I began to gag. Frankie sat down beside me and rubbed circles on my back.

"That's what he did baby," Frankie whispered and I could hear the smile on his face. "Gagged and screamed."

My stomach emptied.

☼☼☼

Nine oh three A.M.

Deuce stared at his fucked up hand. The doctor's at the ER couldn’t give him a cast because of the lack of skin. They’d had to set each bone and individually splint his fingers, then they treated and wrapped his skinless hand and put the whole fucking mess in a sling.

Now he was back at the club, drinking a bottle of scotch, watching Danny play peek-a-boo with Ivy. He and his boys had searched for hours for any sign of Frankie or Eva and had come up empty. They'd had no choice but to involve the cops. Who hadn't turned up jack shit.

The FBI was going to show up any minute now.

Deuce knew Frankie wasn't going to go back to prison. Men like him would rather die than be behind bars. And this particular man was so fucked in the head he was going to take Eva down with him. So she could be with him forever.

Fucking hell.

He was going to lose her to Frankie. Again. This time for good.

"Deuce," Kami said, sitting down beside him. "You need anything for the pain?"

He needed Eva. She was all he fucking needed. She was all he had ever needed.

"No," He croaked.

She wrapped her skinny arms around him and he let her hold him because he knew she was hurting just as bad as he was. And truthfully he needed the fucking comfort.

ZZ looked over from behind the bar and the stacked security monitors there. "Prez. Feds are here."

Ripper stepped out of the hallway. "Prez, go ahead and let ‘em in. Boys got shit locked up tight."

He lifted his chin in ZZ’s direction. “Get the kids outta here and let the assholes in.”

☼☼☼

Nine oh seven A.M.

I pulled on my restraints, wincing as the rope chaffed painfully against my skin. I was on my stomach, all four of my limbs were tied together behind my back, Frankie had even gone so far as to connect my wrists to my ankles and stuff a pillowcase in my mouth.

All of this just so he could feel safe leaving me here while he went for food.

He didn't trust me and when Frankie didn't trust someone it never ended well.

With a lot of maneuvering and an incredible amount of pain, I was able to roll onto my side to relieve the pressure on my lungs and stomach.

I should have listened to Deuce a long time ago. Frankie was beyond saving. This was who he was, who he had always been. Who he would always be.

I had to end this once and for all.

☼☼☼

Nine fourteen A.M.

"So what you're trying to tell us, Mr. West, is that despite your state of the art security system, Franklin Deluva was still able to enter your club entirely unnoticed?"

Deuce scowled at Agent Ricardo Quintanilla. He was a short, fat and bald Mexican who wore clothing a size too small for him. He'd had to deal with him before, many, many times, serving warrants and doing impromptu searches at the club. He had a new partner. A sexy little blonde bitch with a tight ass, big perky tits and bad attitude. Half his boys were eyeing her like she was a piece of fucking cake. He wanted to stab her in the eye with a screwdriver.

"He musta cased the place for awhile," Ripper said, glaring down at the Quintanilla. "Knew what camera's to avoid."

Quintanilla surveyed Ripper's face and grimaced. "Deluva's handiwork I assume," He said gesturing his cell phone towards Ripper's face. "Seen it before. Only those unlucky bastards were all dead."

"Fuckin' great," He growled. "Let's just keep sittin' round here chattin' about the fucks Frankie buried while he starts choppin' up my fuckin' woman."

"Mmmmmmmm," The blonde bitch hummed, tapping her pen against her lips. "Don't you mean Franklin Deluva's woman or maybe Chase Henderson's woman? "

She turned in a circle, doing a survey of the room and all the people in it. "Have you all had Mrs. Fox-Deluva? Is she everyone's woman?"

He shot up off the couch and then Ripper and Jase were on him, pushing him back down.

"Say something else bitch!" He roared, struggling against his boys. "And you won’t live to see another day!"

"Are you threatening a federal agent Mr. West?" She said. "I'm simply suggesting your woman may have gone willingly with her husband!"

"Marie!" Quintanilla bellowed.

"Willingly?" He roared. "He made me watch him rape her! Do you fuckin’ get that? I was chained to a fuckin’ radiator watchin’ my woman gettin’ slammed by a fuckin’ psychopath and I couldn’t do shit about it!"

He heard a shriek that could have been either Danny or Kami or both. The rest of the club went silent.

Cox sucked in a breath. "Prez," He whispered.

He ignored him. "Listen to me agent cunt," He hissed. "I'm way past threatenin’ you. I'm straight ready to fuckin' bury you so you best hope my boys don't let me go."

"Don't let him go," Quintanilla said dryly. He turned to his partner. "Get the fuck outside."

☼☼☼

Eleven fifty five A.M.

I wolfed down my cheeseburger and fries. It had been forever since I'd last eaten and I was starving. Frankie was watching me from the corner of the room near the door, a bottle of vodka between his legs and a blank stare on his face.

"Can I have some?" I whispered, pointing at the half empty bottle.

He glanced down at the bottle then back to me, nodding.

I slid off the bed and slowly walked towards him. Stopping a few inches from his feet, I sat down and reached for the bottle. I had just wrapped my fingers around the neck when Frankie's hand clamped down over mine.

I looked up.

A tear slid down Frankie's cheek. "Eva," He whispered. "Can't sleep baby, can't fuckin' sleep. It's been weeks and weeks and weeks…"

My heart skipped.

"Baby," I said, reaching for him. "Come here."

Scrambling to his knees, he engulfed me in his arms and buried his face in my neck. Trembling, my heart breaking, I stroked his hair, his back.

"Remember my prom?" I whispered. "Remember dancing on the roof afterwards? We danced and laughed until the sun came up. It was one of the best nights of my life baby."

His large body sagged against mine and he started sobbing.

"Oh god baby, no." I pulled his head up so I could see his face. "Frankie," I breathed, wiping his tears off his cheeks. "You don't have to cry anymore. I'm here now. I'm never leaving you, never again baby."

"You can't," He rasped. "I can't sleep without you and I can’t breathe baby, I can’t fuckin’ breathe. I feel sick to my stomach all the time."

"Shh," I soothed, stroking his cheeks, battling my own tears. "Make love to me baby. Let me show you how much I love you."

The familiar taste of his tears mixed with vodka flooded my mouth and I let myself go for a little while, tasting Frankie for the very last time. His hands traveled my body, pushing my dress straps off my shoulders and my dress down to my waist.

"Eva," He breathed, cupping my breasts. "My Eva."

“Yes,” I whispered. “I’m yours. Forever.”

I pushed his back up against the wall and went for his belt buckle. He sat down and lifted his hips so I could slide his jeans down his legs. Holding me close, he rocked me backwards and covered me with his body.

"I love you," I cried softly, grabbing his backside and taking him inside of me. “I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember.”

"Fuck baby," He groaned. "I love you, I fuckin' love you, I love you so fuckin' much."

With every thrust he proclaimed his love for me, moving faster and harder each time.

I reached beside me for Frankie's jeans and the serrated blade he kept sheathed on his belt.

"Harder baby," I whispered, needing him distracted. "Give me all that love."

Frankie buried his face in my neck, his tears drenching my hair as his body began slamming into mine.

Gripping the handle of the dagger, I slid it out of its covering.

When I felt him stiffen, felt his orgasm, I ran my hand through his hair and gently tugged. "Look at me baby."

He blinked up at me.

"I'm never going to leave you again baby, you’re with me always now," I whispered, tears streaming down my face. "No more nightmares."

He smiled at me, his lost little boy smile. "You've always made them go away."

I brushed my lips across his.

Then I sunk the blade into the side of his neck and with all my strength, wrenched it sideways and twisted.

☼☼☼

One thirty two P.M.

"We've got a hit," Quintanilla said, holding his cell phone to his ear. "Local uniforms spotted Deluva's plates outside a motel a few towns over."

Deuce didn’t ask any questions, he just kept praying.

"Tell them to hold off," Quintanilla said. "Deluva is undoubtedly armed, extremely dangerous, unstable as all hell and he's got a hostage. I'm going to call a team in right now."

Quintanilla’s eyes went wide and locked on him. He felt his stomach lurch.

She was not dead. She could not be dead. No. God, please god, don’t let her be dead.

“When?” Quintanilla demanded.

Fuck. Fuck him. Fucking Christ. He couldn’t deal. He couldn’t. His kids couldn’t deal. Kami and Devin couldn’t deal. His boys couldn’t deal. This could not happen.

Quintanilla hung up. "Deluva's dead."

He shot to his feet. "Eva?"

"Hysterical, but unharmed."

A violent shudder of relief tore through him.

"How'd they take him down?" Tap asked.

Quintanilla pressed his lips together and made a smacking sound. He looked around the club as if debating on whether to share what he knew.

He sighed noisily. "They didn't. The woman did. Nearly severed his head clean off with a dagger. She came walking out of the room holding it, half naked and covered in blood."

Kami fell to her knees screaming at the top of her lungs. Cox dropped down beside her and pulled her into his arms.

“Fuck…” Cox looked up at him, his boy’s horrified expression mirroring how he felt. “Prez…” He whispered. “Foxy…”

He sat back down and buried his face in his good hand. Mick's arm came around his shoulders and squeezed. "She's okay, Prez. She's alive."

"She's alive," He said hoarsely, "But I can tell you right fuckin' now she sure as shit ain’t okay."