Hell's Angel: Devil's Backbone (BK 2)

Karen

Alison's POV
(bellamysgirl)

I sighed, standing in the center of my living room. This is pathetic really. The couch needed to be replaced and the walls spackled over and repainted. The carpet needed replaced from clear back when Dani was shot. I mean, it's like I only just got this place livable and now I have to do it all over again? Better start now. Just pick something and do it. The couch was going to take at least two people to get down the stairs.

So I left it and, instead, gathered up what remained of my coffee table and hoofed it down the stairs. The phone started ringing just as I made it down to the ground floor. With a huff, I dropped the pieces of table by the counter and shuffled over to the phone. I eyed the number. It wasn't one I recognized. Just then, the front door bell chimed. Apparently someone doesn't know what the closed sign on the door means.

I sighed heavily and turned, opening my mouth. But I stopped dead cold when I was it was Frank that walked in the door. I took in a sharp breath. A sudden anger filled my chest and I marched toward him. "Alison, I-" I cut him off with my hand across his face. His head remained to the right a moment, pushed to the side from my hit. I pointed a finger at him. "Don't," I warned, firmly. "You let me believe you were dead, Frank! But, oh, you're okay. You just don't want me around. I had to find out from Dani! How could you do that? After all we've been through?"

"You thought I was dead?" The question was genuine. His head tilted as his eyebrow went up a little, his eyes narrowing curiously. That was all he got from that rant? I nodded once, taking a step back, and he sighed through his nose. "Look, Alison...I never wanted that, okay? I'm sorry it looked like that. That wasn't supposed to happen."

I crossed my arms. "Why'd you throw me over?"

"What, like I was gonna keep you on board, watch you die because you're too stubborn to get out of the way?" He huffed a chuckle at the last bit, obviously trying to lighten the already tense situation here. I saw his point there. My mind went to the boat. The vibration of the explosion from underwater. The incredible emptiness when I got back on land and actually saw the flames.

"I thought...I thought I lost you," I said, trying not to cry. "Don't you get it? I don't want to be alive if you're not."

I looked left, the side of the Café becoming a blurry haze, and I took a deep breath. "Hey...come here." Frank stepped forward and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into his chest. I buried my face in his shirt and the scent of gun powder and week old laundry detergent filled my nose. My whole body flooded with relief, relaxing as his hand slowly moved up and down my back to calm me. I felt his lips press to my right temple.

Then his voice filled my ear, his breath dancing across my skin. "I'm so sorry...I'm right here, you hear me? We're okay," he said, on a whisper. "I'm not going anywhere." My mind was put mostly at ease by that. There was the usual shaky, jittery, can't go a moment without crying that I always have. But anything unnecessary was gone. Though, I wasn't about to tell him that. Being in his arms again felt too good to interrupt it now.

Just one more breath, one more moment, and I'll step back. At least, that's what I told myself. I was able to pull myself away enough to at least raise my head to look at him. His face was still free parking for about a hundred bruises. He looked like he just went through a war. But his muddy brown eyes were softened, shifting to mine. "I would never do anything to hurt you," he said, surely. "Never."

"I know...I know." I managed a small nod, exhaling to try and finish reining it in. He brought up a hand and pushed my hair behind my right ear, then slid his hand down to cup my cheek, his thumb easing across my cheekbone absentmindedly.

"Can I ask you something?" I asked, my eyes flickering up to his.

He nodded. "Yeah."

"Do you have any idea who the real Blacksmith is?" That caused him to sigh through his nose and look away a moment. Normally it would be curious, but I've had a hunch for a while now. He was so passive about it when I asked who shot up my house. I'd filed it away to worry about later but the boat scenario got me thinking. "Yeah, I know who he is," he answered, his shoulders dropping a bit.