It wasn’t that I still wasn’t mad, but I wasn’t so prideful that I couldn’t admit that I missed them. I missed them, and seeing them again, after all this time, just intensified how much I missed them. I still love them, too. And that included Phoenix.
I didn’t want to examine the possibility that I may have overreacted when I ran away, but I could admit that I gave in because I missed them more than I was mad at them. Hell, maybe I wasn’t even still mad anymore. Still hurt, sure, but mad? I wasn’t even sure anymore.
After Phoenix had attacked me last night, he had spent the rest of the night reacquainting himself with my body and all the things he remembered I used to love. He had kissed every inch of my skin before sliding inside me again. We had showered where he had immediately gone down on me afterwards. He had spent over an hour eating me out and letting his fingers dance all over my lower body. When I could no longer take him, he prepped me and worked me into such a frenzy, it hadn’t taken much for me to beg him to finally take my ass. After that, I passed out from exhaustion and nothing existed further until I opened my eyes a half hour ago.
A half hour I used to try to come to terms with everything that’s happened in the past twenty-four hours. I knew I needed to talk to my brother, but I also knew I needed to decide what I was going to do about Phoenix. Even though it was my fault for faltering at the first sight of his naked chest, getting back together wasn’t an automatic full-blown conclusion just yet.
Even if he did have my name tattooed across his chest.
I heard my phone’s ringtone for Robbie, surprising me, as I had dropped my purse in the living room when Phoenix had dragged me to his bedroom last night. But as I looked around, I saw my purse and clothes on a chair in the corner, my phone was on the nightstand on my side. Phoenix must have brought my stuff into the bedroom while I slept.
I sat up, reached for my phone, and answered. “Hey.”
“Oh, my God, Frankie,” she rushed out. “What the hell is going on?”
I let out a small sigh. I called Robbie my best friend, but I’ve kept this part of my life a secret from everyone in Cedar Creek, her included, and I hated that I had to confess I’ve been lying to her all these years. “It’s a long story,” I hedged.
“Mona said she heard you put in your notice,” Robbie divulged. “She said you’re not coming back to Brighton.” Her voice sounded worried, but also hurt. “What’s going on?”
I wasn’t sure how much to tell her, but I had to tell her enough to let her know that I hadn’t abandoned her. “You…you remember that guy I was sitting with yesterday?”
“Yeah. The dark haired one,” she replied. “The one who looked like Satan’s favorite son.”
I almost chuckled. She wasn’t wrong. “Yeah,” I confirmed. “He came to tell me about a sick…friend. Or relative, really. He’s…dying and I came to see him.”
“Oh, Frankie,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.”
“Thank you,” I told her. “Anyway, I came to see him, and…well, I also learned that the decision was made for me to move back to Morgan City.”
The silence was loud on the other end of the phone. After a few seconds, Robbie finally said, “The decision was made for you to move. Is that what you said?”
“Yes,” I answered, knowing I was going to have to tell her the basics.
“I don’t understand, Frankie,” she muttered, confused. “What do you mean, the decision was made?”
I could feel my heart beating in a rapid tempo. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust Robbie because I did. It was just…a lot to divulge my relationship with Luca, Ciro, and Phoenix. To anyone outside Morgan City they were like ghost stories. They were like mystical legends you tell people to spook them. You heard about them, but you doubted their existence because the stories had to be exaggerated, right?
“The guy who came to see me yesterday is Luca Benetti, Robbie,” I finally admitted.
“What?!”
I winced at the level of screeching the girl had reached. “The guy who came to see me yesterday is Luca Benetti,” I repeated.
“I heard you the first time, Frankie,” she replied, her voice full of shock and confusion. “Are you talking about Luca Benetti? The Luca Benetti? The goddamn Father of The Holy Trinity? I’m mean, you said you’d tell me what was going on later, when I asked who he was, but…Christ, Frankie, I hadn’t expected this! Luca freakin’ Benetti.”
I grimaced. I had heard they referred to the guys as that name, but I had done my best to not hear or talk about anything that had to do with Morgan City while I’d been away, so I chalked it up to rumors and had done my best to mind my own business. But I knew they referred to Luca as The Father, Ciro as The Son, and Phoenix as The Holy Ghost, and I didn’t care to learn why. Whatever made them earn those titles wasn’t good.
“Yes,” I answered.
And just when I didn’t think her screeching could reach higher levels, she caused dogs harm everywhere with her next realization. “Holy shit. You’re Francesca Mancini,” she cried. “You’re Ciro Mancini’s sister. Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit.”
“Robbie, calm-”
“Oh, my God, Frankie,” she went on. “You’re the freaking Church.”
Church?
“The what? What are you talking about?”
“Oh, my Sweet Jesus,” she mumbled. “You don’t know, do you?”
“Know what?” I honestly had no idea what she was talking about.
“People call you Church,” she said. “No one believed you existed because no one has seen you in years, but…the rumor is that The Holy Trinity worships the ground
