Undeniable (Undeniable, #1)(69)
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 and his back.
“Remember my prom?” I whispered. “Remember dancing on the roof afterward? 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 f*ckin’ breathe. I feel sick to my stomach all the time.”
“Shh,” I soothed, stroking his cheeks while 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 backward 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 f*ckin’ love you, I love you so f*ckin’ 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 sank the blade into the side of his neck, and with all my strength I wrenched it sideways and twisted.
? ? ?
1:32 p.m.
“We’ve got a hit,” Quintanilla said, holding his cell phone to his ear. “Local uniforms spotted Deluva 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 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 OK, Prez. She’s alive.”
“She’s alive,” he said hoarsely. “But I can tell you right f*ckin’ now, she sure as shit ain’t OK.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The Demons buried Frankie on a cloudy Tuesday, wearing his cut and my engagement ring and wedding ring on his pinkie finger. Deuce stayed by my side, holding me up when I would have collapsed. I was overwhelmed with grief and regret, swamped with guilt, and at the same time, relief so great I felt dizzy from it.
I hoped in death Frankie found the peace he never could find in life.