Page 70 of Breaking Storm

At the luncheon, Leo is busy schmoozing anyone he needs to schmooze, and my mother is hanging on some young guy. Her mouth drips of compliments and propositions, which seem to entice the young buck. I choke the bile down and search for my husband, who is in the corner talking to Frankie. His eyes adjust from Frankie to me. Since we arrived in Chicago, he’s made sure I stayed in his sights. It’s possessive. His territorial traits should disgust me, but they don’t. I’m Joey’s and he’s mine. Besides, it’s natural to be cautious with the company we’re keeping at the moment.

My butt finds a chair, and I hold my head in my hand. I’m ready to go home, and when I say home, I mean Michigan. Joey’s Chicago home has too many bad memories. We’ve made an appearance. Joey and I don’t fit the scene anymore. Actually, we never did. Everyone seems to be getting reacquainted or exploring a new angle in the family. Frankie and Joey are clasping a beer and nodding while the other talks. Not long after, Joey comes to me, holds out his hand, and I take it, shuffling behind him. His dominant nature arouses me. Snares me in his sensuality to the point I’d submit to whatever he wants. Joey’s my husband and has become my best friend. My loyalty is to him.

Chapter 27

THE CAR IS PACKED. BEFORE we head home, Frankie and I set up a meeting at his house. My dad and William are gone. It’s the perfect time to relinquish my leadership to Frankie. Normally, it’s passed down to the next generation. Because I’m willingly giving it over to Frankie, the men who wanted me to take over will accept the decision. James and William aren’t around to protest.

The heaviness of the October snow is a sign it will be a tough Chicago winter. Teagan and I are ready to get out of here. I can’t shake this feeling that an impending doom is floating over us. The faster we get out of here, the better off we’ll be.

In the car, I make sure we have the duffel bag of money, IDs, and I secretly sneak in a couple of guns and ammunition. I want to be ready for anything, and since I can’t scratch this anxiousness, these items alleviate the element of surprise. Teagan is in the passenger seat, staring at the house, and I notice she shivers. It could be from the cold, but the house definitely has a creepy vibe.

We drive out to the suburbs where Frankie lives, leaving the Chicago grit and pollution in my rearview mirror. Teagan’s bouncing her left leg. She runs her hands over her thighs and then sits back, gazing out the window.

I place my hand on her leg, which gets her attention, and I say, “We’re almost out of here, Tea. This shouldn’t take long, and then it’s an hour to the Michigan border.”

Her hand covers mine on her leg. “I just want to leave this city once and for all. Seeing Erin was great, but that was it. This city has too many ghosts for my liking.”

“After this, we can move on with our lives. You can finish college and I’ll help Sean and his accounting needs when he starts up his fitness studio.”

From a block away, I notice several cars by Frankie’s house and more men than usual. The car glides to a stop next to the curb.

I’m about to open my door, and Teagan grabs my arm. “Promise me you won’t change your mind.”

I grin at her comment. “Not in a million years.”

Teagan takes my offered hand and steps out of the car. We say hello to the men standing in front of the house, who I don’t recognize. They only physically acknowledge us. I’m holding Tea’s hand, ring the doorbell, and the door opens to another guy, built to intimidate. Without so much as a hello, he guides us toward a nook with chairs outside the office and indicates to Teagan to have a seat. We kiss before she sits, and I knock on the door. Frankie tells me to come in.

I look over my shoulder at Tea, who offers a timid smile. My eyebrows cave in like I find the whole situation weird. The feeling I’ve had regarding an impending doom is hiked up to red alert.

His office wreaks of cigarette smoke and fast food. Frankie stands from behind his desk, offers his hand, and we shake. One thing I notice is he doesn’t look me in the eye. They’re downcast. I scrutinize the room to see who is here and the exits. A guy I didn’t notice when I walked in is standing near the door with his hands folded in front of him. There’s another door to the left of the desk that must lead into another room.

Frankie hasn’t said anything yet. This doesn’t feel right. When we’ve spoken in the past, it was casual and as equals. Now, he’s acting like he’s already taken over the business. The boss. He sits, shuffles through papers, and tosses a pen on his desk. I remain standing, but he gestures to a chair. Glancing behind me and then at Frankie, I ease into it. Still avoiding eye contact, he asks if I want something to drink, and I decline.

Louder than needed, Frankie says, “It’s been good to see you, Joe. How’s Teagan doing?” His eyes dart to the guy behind me.

The hairs on the back of my neck prickle. I pretend to scratch my chin using my shoulder to check out what the guy is doing. He’s in the same position as before.

I clear my throat. “Fine. It’s an adjustment.”

“And Leo’s taking over and will be the boss.”

It’s more of a statement than a question, so I don’t answer.

For the first time, Frankie tilts back in his chair and looks me in the eye. “I’ve always liked you, Joe. You’re a great fighter. Loyal. Never tried to impress anyone. True to yourself.”

“Why does this seem like you’re about to spring something on me?”

He lets out a heavy sigh and drops his gaze. “I’m letting you know what I think of you, that’s all.”

I scoot forward in the chair, brush aside the contents on his desk, and rest my forearms on it. “Then let me tell you what I think of this situation.” Frankie keeps quiet. His focus is on the floor. “I’m guessing one of us has changed from a few days ago, and whatever it is, it makes you uncomfortable. Not because you’re worried about crossing me. No. It’s because you respect me and still plan on deceiving me, even though I supported you when Colin died.”

Finally, he glances up and shakes his head. “Yeah, and still nothing has come of it.”

“Not my fault.”

Frankie coughs into his hand. “This isn’t easy for me, Joe.”

“What isn’t, Frankie? Help me out here.”

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