“No,” she whispered under her breath, “No, no, no,” She couldn’t stop. The singular thought in her head was just “No,” over and over again, whizzing around her brain like a bee, crashing into the side of her skull and leaving a harsh sting.
With shaky hands she reached out to pick up the book again, flipping to the last page. She forced himself to look at what was drawn there, take it in. Her eyes snapped up off the paper when she heard a key in the lock, and she didn’t bother to hide the sketchbook, the anger and confusion curling too hot in her stomach.
“Franks? I’m home!” She heard the familiar yell, but didn’t welcome it as she always did. She wanted to take that yell and push it out her front door and not think about it.
“Mollie,” She said, quietly, menacingly, surprising himself with how cold her voice sounded, hard like steel.
“Babe?” Mollie poked her head around the corner, into the kitchen, a question in her eyes. She had heard Frankie’s tone, but didn’t know what it could possibly be about.
“Mollie,” Frankie spat, and Mollie jerked back, this angry Frankie one she wasn’t used to. She had seen angry Frankie plenty of times, but never livid Frankie. Especially not livid-at-Mollie Frankie.
“What’s wrong, love?” She began cautiously, tentatively. She stepped closer, but paused when she caught the look in Frankie’s eye. She looked mad as hell, that much was obvious. But behind the anger there was something else, and it looked strangely like fear.
“Mollie,” said Frankie for the third time, slowly lifting the sketchbook so Mollie could see she was holding it. “Why did you draw this?” She held it up in front of her chest now, watching as Mollie recognized her work, watching as her eyes widened and a furious blush crept up her cheeks.
“Oh, Frankie…y-you weren’t meant to see that, baby. You were never supposed—”
“Well I did. So explain,” Frankie spit, the venom in her own words shocking her, but she was too angry to let go.
“Franks, please don’t be mad. I didn’t mean anything by it! You weren’t supposed to see, I just needed to get it out of my head! I didn’t think—”
“You didn’t think what? You didn’t think that maybe you would be stupid enough to leave it lying around?” Frankie tried not to let the lump in her throat become noticeable as she watched Mollie’s reaction after insulting her, and soldiered on, “You didn’t think that maybe I would see it, and that maybe I would have a little problem with you drawing my stepfather? Yeah, clearly you didn’t think, Mollie!”
“Frankie,” Mollie voice broke, and for the first time she saw something other than anger in Frankie’s eyes. “Please, Frankie, listen to me. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. It doesn’t mean anything. I was just really angry, okay? I just needed to get it off my chest. I couldn’t have his horrid face swimming around in my head anymore. I had to, please… Please don’t be mad,”
“You expect me to not be mad? I haven’t seen his face for a year and a half, and I was doing just fine! And here it fucking is!”
YOU ARE READING
Vulnerable [Frollie]
RomanceFrankie Sandford grew up as an only child and her father died when she was very young. Her mother went soon afterwards. From a very young age, Frankie's stepfather would sexually abuse her, almost every day, and he would tie her up for days at a tim...