Page 22 of The Holy Ghost
Chapter 12
Francesca~
Iwoke up alone the next morning andthank God.
My entire bodyached something fierce and I couldn’t even begin to bring myself to regret it. I hadfolded like a cheap suit and I had no one to blame butmyself.
It wasn’t thatI still wasn’t mad, but I wasn’t so prideful that I couldn’t admit that I missed them. Imissed them, and seeing them again, after all this time, justintensified how much I missed them. I still love them, too. Andthat included Phoenix.
I didn’t wantto examine the possibility that I may have overreacted when I ranaway, but I could admit that I gave in because I missed themmorethan I was mad at them.Hell, maybe I wasn’t even still mad anymore. Still hurt, sure, butmad? I wasn’t even sure anymore.
After Phoenixhad attacked me last night, he had spent the rest of the nightreacquainting himself with my body and all the thingshe remembered I used to love. He hadkissed every inch of my skin before sliding inside me again. We hadshowered where he had immediately gone down on me afterwards. Hehad spent over an hour eating me out and letting his fingers danceall over my lower body. When I could no longer take him, he preppedme and worked me into such a frenzy, it hadn’t taken much for me tobeg him to finally take my ass. After that, I passed out fromexhaustion and nothing existed further until I opened my eyes ahalf hour ago.
A half hour Iused to try to come to terms with everything that’shappened in the pasttwenty-four hours. I knew I needed to talk to my brother, but Ialso knew I needed to decide what I was going to do about Phoenix.Even though it was my fault for faltering at the first sight of hisnaked chest, getting back together wasn’t an automatic full-blownconclusion just yet.
Even if he did havemy name tattooed across his chest.
I heard myphone’s ringtone for Robbie, surprising me, as I had dropped mypurse in the living room whenPhoenix had dragged me to his bedroom last night. But as I lookedaround, I saw my purse and clothes on a chair in the corner, myphone was on the nightstand on my side. Phoenix must have broughtmy stuff into the bedroom while I slept.
Isat up, reached for my phone, andanswered. “Hey.”
“Oh, myGod,Frankie,” she rushed out.“What the hell is going on?”
I let out asmall sigh. I called Robbie my best friend, but I’ve kept this partof my life a secret from everyone in Cedar Creek, her included, and I hated that I had to confessI’ve been lying to her all these years. “It’s a long story,” Ihedged.
“Mona said sheheard you put in your notice,” Robbie divulged. “She said you’renot coming back to Brighton.” Her voice sounded worried, but alsohurt. “What’s going on?”
I wasn’t surehow much to tell her,but Ihad to tell her enough to let her know that I hadn’t abandoned her.“You…you remember that guy I was sitting withyesterday?”
“Yeah. Thedark haired one,” she replied. “The one who looked like Satan’sfavorite son.”
I almostchuckled. She wasn’t wrong.“Yeah,” I confirmed. “He came to tell me about a sick…friend. Orrelative, really. He’s…dying and I came to see him.”
“Oh,Frankie,” she whispered. “I’mso sorry.”
“Thank you,” Itold her. “Anyway, I came to see him, and…well, I also learned thatthe decision was made for meto move back to Morgan City.”
The silencewas loud on the other end of the phone. After a few seconds,Robbie finally said, “Thedecision wasmadefor you to move. Isthat what you said?”
“Yes,” Ianswered, knowing I was going to have to tell her the basics.
“I don’tunderstand, Frankie,” she muttered, confused. “What do you mean,the decision wasmade?”
Icould feel my heart beating in arapid tempo. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust Robbie because I did. Itwas just…a lot to divulge my relationship with Luca, Ciro, andPhoenix. To anyone outside Morgan City they were like ghoststories. They were like mystical legends you tell people to spookthem. You heard about them, but you doubted their existence becausethe stories had to be exaggerated, right?
“The guy whocame to see me yesterday is Luca Benetti, Robbie,” I finallyadmitted.
“What?!”
I winced atthe level of screeching thegirl had reached. “The guy who came to see me yesterday is LucaBenetti,” I repeated.
“I heard youthe first time, Frankie,” shereplied, her voice full of shock and confusion. “Are you talkingabout Luca Benetti?TheLuca Benetti? ThegoddamnFatherof The HolyTrinity? I’m mean, you said you’d tell me what was going on later,when I asked who he was, but…Christ, Frankie, I hadn’t expectedthis!Lucafreakin’ Benetti.”
I grimaced. Ihad heard they referred to theguys as that name, but I had done my best to not hear or talk aboutanything that had to do with Morgan City while I’d been away, so Ichalked it up to rumors and had done my best to mind my ownbusiness. But I knew they referred to Luca as The Father, Ciro asThe Son, and Phoenix as The Holy Ghost, and I didn’t care to learnwhy. Whatever made them earn those titles wasn’t good.
“Yes,” Ianswered.
Andjust when I didn’t think herscreeching could reach higher levels, she caused dogs harmeverywhere with her next realization. “Holy shit.You’re Francesca Mancini,” she cried. “You’re Ciro Mancini’ssister. Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit.”
