Boston, 1990.
"So now you owe this guy money, right? This Antonio fella?" Bill eyed Frankie with sympathy as he took in the young woman in front of him. She looked sick and painfully thin. He handed her the sandwich and watched her devour it as she contemplated her predicament.
"Something like that, yeah."
Frankie played with the last few crumbs on her plate, avoiding the kind man's gaze. She wasn't saying much. She didn't know this man and obviously wouldn't trust him if she told him the truth. She didn't trust anyone.
"Well, I tell you what Frankie. Why don't you tell me how much you owe this fella and I'll see what I can do. I don't have much but I'll help you in any way I can." Bill reached his hand out to touch Frankie's but she pulled away and stared at him with suspicion. What is he doing? I've just broken into his pub and tried to rob it, why the hell would he offer to help me?
Frankie stood up and made her way towards the door. Something didn't feel right. She brushed past him but he gently took her by the shoulders, stopping her. "Let me help you, Frankie." She could feel herself beginning to panic. She couldn't understand why this man was being so kind to her. He must want something.
"Look, I appreciate the offer but I'll be okay. Thanks for the food." Frankie left Bill's office and walked quickly, towards the front door. She rested her hand on the doorknob and waited. She thought he was going to do something. Grab her and call the cops, maybe? But he didn't. She peeked back to look at him. He was standing beside the bar with his hands in his pockets. He looked sad and sorry for her. She felt a pang of guilt cripple her. "Bill. Thank you for not calling the cops. I'm really sorry for what I did, I nev-" Bill held his hand up and she stopped. He walked over to her and smiled. "Don't mention it. Just look after yourself, okay?" He took out his wallet and handed her a hundred dollar bill. "Please take this. It's not much but maybe it can help you get this guy off your back." Frankie resisted the urge to laugh. This guy was too kind for his own good. But she looked at the money and shook her head. "Thank you, Bill, but I can't. You've done more than enough for me, already." Bill sighed and took something else from his wallet. A small white card with "Molly's" on it and his number. "At least take this, just in case." She paused, staring at the paper in his hand then took it. She smiled a small, weary smile and stepped out into the bitter January air.
Frankie shuffled down the street and tried to think of a plan. He would be expecting her any minute. After his two goons left last night they had warned her that she better have the money tonight or they wouldn't let her walk away this time. They had only managed to take around two thousand from the register in the pharmacy. That was a drop in the ocean. It was the drugs Tony was pissed off about. Joe had taken them too and she knew they had a street value worth a lot more. It wasn't the fact that she had lost the money, she knew Tony was furious that she had let Joe take advantage of her. He had warned her to stay away and that he was no good. Just a junkie punk kid who would eventually get them killed. It looks like he was right. He hated that she had been screwing Joe even though Tony, himself was fucking every girl down town, including her. But he was Antonio Russo, he could do whatever the fuck he wanted.
The first night he kissed her she thought she was special. It had taken her a long time to be close to a man. She cared about him and stupidly thought he cared for her. She couldn't have been more wrong. It didn't take long for him to start manipulating and using her. He would make her go on runs downtown and sell to his regulars or break into whatever they could to get funds. And she always did it. She hated herself for how deeply involved she was but she knew there was no way out. This was her life now.
Maybe if I just explain he'll go easy on me? It wasn't my fault. That piece of shit ran off with the haul. Maybe he'll let me live.
She laughed out loud at her naivety. Tony Russo didn't let anyone who fucked up this much get away with it. They always paid, in one form or another.
She jumped onto the bus and headed the sixteen blocks to where Tony's restaurant was. "Vincenzo's" a family style restaurant which acted as a front for his many lucrative side dealings. She was sweating profusely and could think of nothing other than her next high. She longed for the numbness and the escape. She had gone by her stop and jumped up to get off the bus. As she leapt from the steps she tumbled to the ground. The bus driver scoffed and sped down the road, leaving her in a heap in the icy ground. "Fuck!" She screamed in anger as she peeled herself up. She was ashamed and furious. How did she even get here? She had swore to herself that when she left Ireland she would find Michael and start living the life she deserved. The life that was ripped from her fiver years ago. But she was here, in this fucking mess with no way out. Her legs felt like jelly as she approached the door. She wasn't sure if it was her body aching for the drugs or the fear of what Tony was going to do. She could make a run for it and just hope for the best? No he'd find her in a second. He had eyes and ears all over this city and as bad as she knew this would be, running would only make it worse. Maybe I could? Oh God, no! I'd never get away with it! He'd fucking kill me if he ever found out.
She paced up and down the sidewalk, biting her nails. A pay phone rang, ominously, nearby and made her lose focus. She stared at it with uncertainty. It was the only way out of this mess. She had to protect herself. He was going to kill her for fucking up. She walked over to the phone and hesitated. Am I about to do this? Oh fuck.
****
She held the door handle with her trembling hand. She could see the last of the patrons finish their drinks. Couples smiling and suggestively caressing each other's hands or knees. They looked so happy, it made her sick. She took a deep breath and opened the door. The wave of thick cigar smoke hit her first and then the smooth sound of opera in the background as she made her way to the bar. She received several nods of recognition but mostly scowls as she sat on a stool and asked Ronnie for a drink. "Jesus, you look like shit. Boss won't be happy with you coming in here like this." The middle aged white haired man scowled at her as he handed her a whiskey. She sloppily knocked it back and wiped the dribbles off her chin with the sleeve of her coat. "What else is new?" She asked, attempting to sound indifferent. Ronnie smirked and refilled her drink before informing her that Tony was waiting for her out back. She sipped her drink slowly, trying to give herself time to calm down and think of what she was going to say.The sound of Ronnie's voice booming across the bar made her jump. "Okay folks, time to get the hell outta here. We're closed." The noise of disappointed rumbles and the customer's chair scraping across the floor filled Frankie with dread. She had hoped that there would be other people here when she saw him. How fucking stupid of her. He wanted to have privacy so he wouldn't be disturbed. She wiped her face with her quivering hand and stood up from the stool. "Hey, are you okay, Frankie? You look like you're going to pass out." Ronnie hurried to hand her a glass of water but she brushed him off, He was never privy to the details of Tony's dealings and he liked it that way. Plausible deniability and all that. But it's also because Tony had to keep up appearances, even though he had a lot of cops in his back pocket, he still had to make sure his legitimate businesses were clean.
She walked, unsteadily towards the office just past the kitchen and lingered by the door. Her heart was pounding in her chest and dread engulfed her entire body. She knocked on the door with trepidation and his smooth voice answered, pleasantly. "Come in, Frances."
*******************************
Hi everyone! I hope you're enjoying the book. Thanks for sticking with it! So, really curious as to what you think is going on? What is Frankie going to do? How is her past with Russo going to affect her role with O'Shea? What did you think of the party scene? :)
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YOU ARE READING
Boston Blood
RomanceFrances (Frankie) Ryan was no stranger to violence. Her whole life was constant reminder of how being born into a dangerous family never escapes you. After years of trauma, Frankie finally thought she had left that world behind. But her past caught...