Trauma At Its Finest (Lip Gallagher X Male Reader)

Ch 27. Frank's Revenge

It's another day for the Gallaghers. They know Frank will come back eventually to screw them over again. What surprises them, though, is how long he's actually stayed gone. While everyone is wary of their father, Y/N views him as nothing more than vermin. Lip knows his fiancé underestimates him—he knows Frank would do anything to get revenge.

As Lip walks out of the house to head to school, he glances back at the front door to say goodbye. However, his eyes lock onto their recently purchased car. Someone had keyed a crude drawing of a dick on the side. The tires are slashed too.

"Fucking Frank..." Lip mutters.

"I'm getting security cameras." Y/N pulls out his phone and walks over to the car, already snapping pictures. "If he keeps doing this, I'm sure I can get a restraining order."

"Like that would stop him." Lip joins his fiancé, standing beside him. "Just be careful. He can do much worse than this."

"Yeah, yeah."

"I'm serious." Lip's voice hardens, wanting to make sure Y/N understands how dangerous Frank can be—even if he himself doesn't know what's coming. "Do I need to remind you how Liam got kidnapped by a gang?"

Y/N whips out the gun tucked behind his back. "I'll shoot him on sight if he enters the house."

Lip knows Frank would be smarter than to just waltz in. "Y/N. He's going to do something. Trust me. Don't underestimate him."

"If you say so." Y/N still doesn't sound concerned, and that only frustrates Lip more. "I'm more worried about tonight's dinner."

Lip sighs, remembering the dinner invite at Isabella's house with the rest of the group and their partners.

"Do we have to go? I don't want to sit through a bunch of women bitching, moaning, and complaining about their lives. One of them literally wants to send us to conversion camp."

"Not really, but it'd be nice for a change to eat someone else's cooking." Y/N pockets his phone after finishing the pictures. "And if we skip, Isabella will just complain about how we didn't come, and I don't want to deal with that either."

"Fine..." Lip gives Y/N a quick peck on the lips before heading toward the train. "See ya."

-

It's another day for Kev and V working behind the bar. Nothing in particular has happened yet. Tommy and Kermit are just sitting there, rambling about whatever's going on with the bar owners. However, the mood soon changes when someone walks through the door.

"Holy shit!" Kev gasps as Frank Gallagher strolls into the bar, looking as sour as usual. "I thought you were dead."

"Of course you did." Frank mutters.

"Where were you?" V asks, just as surprised as the rest.

Frank slumps onto a barstool. "Some Russian guy ran me over and kidnapped me to Russia. I was there for almost a year, and no one even cared enough to report me missing to the cops."

Tommy smirks. "You got that right."

Kev hands Frank a beer. "Got any souvenirs?"

"Yeah. Severe trauma and a passionate hatred of Russians." Frank quickly takes a swig. "Jesus... I missed the taste."

"You didn't drink for almost a year?" Kermit asks, shocked.

"Once those mafia freaks dropped me off in the middle of nowhere, I stole some drinks. But I had to stay sober for months—the worst kind of torture."