Boston Blood

Fifteen

"Cillian O'Donovan? You're Paul's son! What the fuck is going on?" She tried to keep calm. He grabbed her by the elbow and pulled her out of the van. She stumbled as she was pushed forward into what must have been some building, landing hard on her knees onto the cold cement. "Be quiet! Stay put, Damien. I'll tell him we're here." Frankie couldn't see a thing and had no idea where she was but she knew this was bad.

Someone's face was next to hers. She could smell the whiskey on his breath as he leaned in and sniffed her hair. She wanted to pull away but she stayed still. She wasn't going to give them the satisfaction of letting them know she was frightened.

"Hmm you smell good." His lips were brushing her ear as his menacing voice sent a shiver of disgust through her body. She could feel his hand on her, then, moving up her stomach. No fucking way. She threw her head back and launched it as hard as she could, connecting with his face. He screamed in pain and frustration; "You stupid fucking bitch!" Frankie's body hit the ground as the sting of his slap radiated through her agonized face. He was on top of her, pinning her down and holding her by the throat. "You're going to regret that!" Frankie couldn't breathe. She struggled against the restraints around her wrists, trying desperately to break free. She felt like the life was being squeezed out of her. She braced herself for whatever was coming but it never came. The weight was pulled off her and she coughed and gasped for air. "What the fuck are you doing, Damien?"

"This fucking bitch just heat butted me, Cillian. She's way too fucking brave. She needed to be taught a lesson." Damien was roaring and Frankie could hear the men arguing but she was still so dazed that she couldn't concentrate. "Go wait in the van. Boss will be down soon." Cillian sounded furious and full of authority. To Frankie's surprise, it sounded like Damien did what he was told.

As she heard a heavy door slam, she felt a pair of hands around her shoulders, pulling her up into a sitting position. She could taste blood. Her lip was cut. Then, the harsh florescent light stung her retinas as the blindfold was gently removed from her eyes. She tried to let her eyes adjust and take in her surroundings. They were in some sort of empty warehouse. There was a single chair beside the window to the right and nothing or no one else.

Frankie raised her head and reluctantly let her eyes meet his. His enormous body was squatting in front of her. His shocking, bright blue eyes looked like they were on fire as he stared at her in silence. Frankie's swollen throat felt tight as she struggled to keep her breathing steady. He reached his hand towards her face but she flinched away from him. "Don't fucking touch me. What the fuck do you want?" He sighed in frustration and used his forefinger and thumb to pull her face towards him. Frankie held her breath. There was a look in his eyes that terrified her. She swallowed, hard, as he let his thumb slide across her bottom bloodied lip. He wiped the blood on his jeans and walked towards the window in the massive room. Frankie was shivering now. Part of her was absolutely petrified but the other part just wanted it to be over. All of it.

She stared at him as he stood with his back to her. She didn't remember much from that night but she did know that this man was a far cry from the handsome, sweet boy she had met fifteen years ago. This man was hardened and cruel. He was dangerous. Frankie sat up straight against the far wall and wriggled her arms. The tape was so tightly wrapped that her hands were completely numb. Then she could feel Cillian's eyes burning into hers. "Look, I don't know why I'm here or what you want but I'm no use to you." She knew nothing she could say would make him let her go. He seemed important but she knew this wasn't his call. Still. She had to try. "I don't have any money or-,"

Cillian's harsh, humourless laugh silenced her. He spun around and stalked towards her. She sat up straighter as he leaned over her and grabbed her face again, much harder this time. "You think you're here because we want money? Jesus, you really have no clue, do you?" He loosened his grip slightly but still held Frankie's face in his right hand. She searched his eyes, silently pleading and questioning. His fierce gaze made her feel uneasy but he also looked sad again, like he pitied her. Then it hit her. Fuck, of course.