Page 84 of Frank's Felon
“Don’t tell me you’re turning yourself in for Tess, that in some twisted way you think doing so will protect her. Damien can take this treaty and shove––”
She placed her fingers on his lips, silencing him. “No, I mean it finally feels like I can choose my own path. I can leave here or stay.” Her eyes were sparkling and there was a lightness to her step. “I’m free, Frank. I don’t answer to anyone. I’m not beholding to Damien, or even Tess. There’s nothing keeping me here.”
“Not even me.”
“No.”
She hadn’t even hesitated in answering. His heart sank. Free, she had said. That was the declaration of a shifter who didn’t want to be tied to a mate, let alone blood-bonded.
“I told Tess everything. She understood. She cried. We hugged. And it felt good, Frank, really good.”
“I’m glad you were able to tell her. For both of your sakes. That was not a burden you should have had to carry. And Tess is not some flaky shifter.”
“No, she’s not. I’ve underestimated her in a lot of ways over the years, like you’ve underestimated Damien.”
Frank ground to a halt. “This has nothing to do with my issues with Damien.”
“You’re right. They don’t. But you need to face him. You’re angry with him and you’re letting it eat away at you. You’ve done your time, and yet you’re still in prison, aren’t you?”
Was he? No. She didn’t know what she was talking about. She hadn’t been abandoned by her pack. Forgotten, as if she meant nothing. Except she had, before she had left for prison. Her pack hadn’t care about her. They’d used her, and that was worse. Despite Damien’s faults or failures, he had always cared and done his best for the pack. He had accepted Frank back, given him his old position, made him head guard actually, even though he had been away from guard duty for five years, rusty, older. . .not the same shifter as when he had left.
Frank wasn’t the same, and maybe that was the problem. He had somehow expected his life would be the same when he returned, thathe’dbe the same.
His dad had died before he had returned home. There were a few new shifters. A few he had known had left and others had been killed. Frankie had been born and was already four years old when he had returned. He had never seen her as a baby, except for that one photo. He had missed a lot, and he’d never get those years back. He was angry with Damien and himself.
“Promise me one thing, Frank,” Delilah said, her head against his chest. He loved having her pressed against him, leaning on him. He needed her, and she was leaving him.
“I love you, Del. Always have, always will.”
Her hand splayed across his chest as she pushed off and looked at him. “Then promise me you’ll speak with Damien. Say what you need to say, but stop punishing yourself, Frank. Please.”
It wasn’t something he wanted to do, but for her, he’d do anything. Frank nodded and held her tighter. How the hell was he going to survive without her?
Chapter Eighteen
FRANK
Frank was standing in the living room of Tess and Damien’s house. Damien had gone to greet Agent Sloan at the gate by the access road. Tess was upstairs dressing.
Delilah wrapped her arms around Frank’s neck. Warm, luscious lips pressed to his. Her tongue gently glided along his lips, and then explored his mouth, as her hand sifted through the hair at the back of his head.
His wolf inside growled and clawed, not understanding why she was leaving. Just the thought of Agent Sloan sent Frank’s muscles moving.
“Stop that,” Delilah said. “No shifting. And no frowning.”
“Don’t expect me to smile.”
She gave him another quick kiss. “I could get you to smile,” she said waggling her brows. “Though this isn’t the time or place for it, I suppose.”
“You’re wicked.”
Another kiss from her, and he smiled despite himself.
“I have to go speak to Tess for a bit. You’ll be okay down here?”
“I won’t murder Sloan if that’s what you mean. Not yet, at least.”
“Close enough. And don’t forget your promise to me. You’ll speak to Damien at some point. Maybe not today, but soon, okay?”
