Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 81584 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81584 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
Lou was standing in the doorway by the time we reached the porch, her eyes puffy and red-rimmed.
“I’m so glad you’re okay,” she breathed, catching Frankie around the waist. “I thought—I don’t even know what I thought. No one could find you.”
“I’m sorry,” Frankie whispered, curling her arms around Lou’s shoulders. “I figured you’d be at work and wouldn’t even realize I wasn’t here.”
So, she was still intent on hiding things. The whole reason she’d come to my house was because Lou had been home.
“I had a headache, so I came home early,” Lou said with a groan.
“I’m really sorry I worried you,” Frankie repeated as they pulled apart.
I followed them into the house and found Cian and Myla sitting on the couch.
“What the fuck is going on?” Myla asked, jumping to her feet as she looked between me and Frankie. “Decided on a little afternoon delight and couldn’t answer a single message?”
Shit. I knew before Frankie said a word that shit was about to go sideways.
“So now I need to be available to you twenty-four hours a day?” Frankie asked. “When did that start?”
“Don’t be an asshole.”
“I’m being an asshole?” Frankie laughed humorlessly. “You’re sitting here waiting on my couch to what? Chastise me? For not being home when you thought I should be home? For not answering my phone for a few hours?”
“We were freaked the fuck out,” Myla shot back. “Lou’s been trying to get a hold of you all day!”
“And I already apologized to Lou.”
“She wasn’t the only one who was worried.”
“Well, I’m sorry about that. She shouldn’t have even called you.”
“You should’ve answered your fucking phone.”
“I was asleep.”
“Drop the bullshit,” Myla said flatly, looking over at me. “We all know you weren’t sleeping.”
Frankie practically shook she was so angry. Taking a step forward, I set a hand on her hip to remind her I was there.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Frankie spat at Cian.
“Don’t talk to him like that!” Myla yelled. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“Me? You’re the one who’s ambushing me in my own fucking house after I’ve had a really shitty day already.”
Myla looked at me. “Yikes, that must’ve stung.”
My hand slid further around Frankie’s waist as she took a step toward Myla.
“Since you’re so concerned,” Frankie ground out. “I had a doctor’s appointment this morning, and I needed someone to pick me up, so I called Gray. We got lunch, and then I passed out at his house all afternoon.”
“Why couldn’t you drive yourself?” Lou asked in confusion. I met her eyes and shook my head.
“Good question, Lou,” Frankie said sarcastically. “Because when they give you meds that’ll make you groggy, they won’t let you drive afterward.”
“Why didn’t you call one of us?” Myla asked, gesturing between herself and Lou.
“Maybe because I didn’t want to deal with all of this bullshit.” Frankie threw her hands in the air.
“Oh, your friends caring about you is so hard, right?” Myla spat. “Poor Frankie.”
My jaw tightened, and I looked at Cian. I was all for letting Frankie fight her own battles, but they were reaching a point where I was going to step in. There was only so much she could take in one day.
“Fuck you,” Frankie yelled. “Go the fuck home.”
“I cannot believe this shit!” Myla’s hands curled into fists.
“Myla,” Lou said in warning, clearly picking up on something that Myla wasn’t seeing.
“You shouldn’t put up with this crap,” Myla said to Lou. She turned back to Frankie. “I know we usually let you do it—but you can’t just treat everyone like shit and then expect them to come crawling back for more. When people are worried about you, the correct response is to tell them you’re sorry for making them go out of their minds for hours thinking you were in a ditch somewhere.”
“It’s all about you,” Frankie shot back. “Always about Myla. How Myla feels about things. If it’s going to upset Myla. Well, maybe for once, I didn’t want to worry about your feelings.”
“Great,” Myla replied emotionlessly.
“Baby,” Cian murmured, rising to his feet.
“I’m sorry that I didn’t want my abortion to be about you,” Frankie said, her tone just as flat.
Myla took a step back like she’d been slapped.
“Sorry I didn’t want to talk it over or boohoo about it. I didn’t want to explain how Scott the slimeball was pretending to wear condoms and then taking them off mid-fuck, or how I’d switched birth controls without fucking worrying about it because as far as I knew I was using other forms of contraceptives, or the fact that I had to wait days to find out if he’d given me an STI, and that was after I found out I was pregnant.”
“Frank,” Myla said softly, her face falling.
“No,” Frankie barked. “I’m so fucking selfish? Cool. Get out of my house then. This isn’t the part where we hug and make up. Fuck you.”