Page 41 of Love Lies Bleeding

Even as he said it, I see a shadow of pain move over his face. Dean hadn’t just hurt Frankie, he’d beaten Lexi unconscious, almost strangling her to death. He was the worst human being alive, with Jake the devil a close second.

Any man who can hurt a pregnant woman should be shot in my book, but unfortunately, he can’t be found anywhere. Police had put out an APB, but until then, we’re all on edge and watching our backs. Luckily Hunter is back and he and Lexi seem to be working things out. Another thing Dean had tried to destroy, but I really hope he’d failed. I was team Hunter all the way. I see the way he looks at my friend like she invented the wheel. I swear if she wanted the moon framed in her living room, he’d get it for her. I’m happy for her, but seeing Jake again reminds me of how, once upon a time, I’d thought I had that too.

“Uh oh, someone looks glum.”

“I’m fine, just tired.”

I think I’ve gotten away with my deflection when the waitress comes to take our order, but Frankie is tenacious as hell and as soon as she leaves he pins me with a probing look. “Spill.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Cherry pie, do not make me break out my ABBA routine here in the middle of this fine restaurant.”

I squint at my friend, giving him a look that scares most people away, but he just rolls his eyes and begins to stand. He’d do it too. He has no shame and I love him for it.

“Okay, sit down.” I shoot him a look full of annoyance.

“Oh, please. I’ve been perfecting the bitch face since I was fifteen, and yours doesn’t scare me.”

“Has anyone ever told you you’re annoying?”

“Yes, but not today, so thank you for the compliment. I do try not to hide all this greatness under a bushel.”

My lips twitch with a smile; it’s impossible to be angry with Frankie. I sigh and bang my head on the table and the cutlery jingles from the impact of my despair. Looking up, I see a server looking our way, but he just shakes his head and goes about his business. We’re regulars here at The Atlas, a fresh restaurant that serves food from all over the world. Each week we come here, sometimes with Lexi and my mom, but mostly just me and Frankie, and try a different dish.

“Do you think we’ll like the French Onion soup this week?”

Frankie bangs the table and lifts one perfectly plucked brow. “Stop stalling and start talking.”

“Urgh, fine. Do you remember when I told you about that guy who broke my heart and lost me my place at Harvard?”

“Yes. You were as drunk as a skunk and told me he framed you for stealing exam papers after telling you he loved you. But he was still the best lay you’ve ever had, and ruined you for all men.”

My nose wrinkles at my irritation over his memory of that night being so good. “Yes, well, the asshole is back.”

I watch with some satisfaction as Frankie’s eyes go wide. “No, he is not.”

“Yep, and what’s worse, he’s Hunter’s best friend, so there’s no way I can avoid him.”

“Is he cute?”

My scowl deepens. “Oh my God, is that what you took from that?”

“It’s a valid question.”

“Frankie, focus. He broke my heart and betrayed me. He ruined my life.”

Frankie takes my hand in his across the table. “Do you want me to hunt him down and put itching powder in his pants? Set up a Tinder profile and list some weird kinks he’s into? Maybe go to his office and tell everyone he gave me syphilis?”

“Of course not, although the image of Jake jumping up and down with itching powder around his junk is tempting. Then see how hot he looks with his balls red and scabby.”

“So, he is handsome?”

“Disgustingly so,” I admit with a sigh.

“So like an eight or a nine?”

“More like an eleven or a twelve,” I admit grudgingly, “but his personality puts him at a two.”

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