Page 37 of Craving Francesca

“Climb off, baby,” I said gently, peeling her fingers away from the leather when she didn’t move.

Watching over my shoulder, I tracked her as she climbed down and stood next to the bike. There was barely enough room for me to swing my leg off, and she still didn’t move.

Reaching into the purse that hung across her chest, I felt around in the bottom until I found her keys.

“I can get them,” she said flatly just as my finger caught on the key ring.

I handed them to her and followed as she carried them to the door.

I’d gotten her home safe, and there really wasn’t anything left for me to do, but I found myself following her anyway. She left the door wide open as she shuffled into the house. Inside, she hung her purse on a row of hooks by the door and dropped her keys inside without looking. She wasn’t speaking to me or giving any indication she even realized I’d followed her as I trailed her down the hallway to her room.

When she got there, she didn’t hesitate as she moved straight for the bed. Crawling onto it fully dressed, she rolled onto her side and pulled the blankets up to her chin.

I stood in the doorway as her body relaxed inch by inch. Her eyes were wide open, staring at nothing.

“You want me to call Lou?” I asked, crouching next to the bed so I was in her line of sight. “Or Myla?”

“No,” she replied, her eyes finally focusing on me. “They’re both at work.”

“Someone else, then? Bas?”

“No thanks.”

“What do you need me to do?”

“Nothing,” she replied dully. “I think I’m just going to take a nap.”

“Yeah?” I brushed the hair out of her eyes.

“I’m tired,” she replied with a weak smile. “Thanks for the ride.”

Rising to my feet, I moved to the end of the bed and pulled the blankets back. She’d climbed in with her boots on. I gently pulled them off and set them next to the bed before tucking her back in.

She was wearing neon pink socks with cats all over them that saidYou’re Purrfect. The sight of them was a strange juxtaposition from the mood in the room. She’d put them on that morning, probably for a little brightness in her day, and between then and now, something had gone really wrong.

When I moved back to the head of the bed, Frankie’s eyes were closed.

I grabbed the keys from her purse as I left the house and locked the door behind me. Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I opened my contacts and made a call.

“Hey, honey,” my mom answered.

“Hey, Ma. You busy right now?”

“Just sitting in my pajamas working on some stuff for Grandpa,” she replied. “So no, not really.”

“You think you could come pick me up and drive me over to get a friend’s car?”

“I’ll never refuse time with my favorite son,” she joked. “Are you at home?”

“Nah, I’m at Myla’s.”

“Is it Myla’s car?”

“Nope.”

“Hmm. A mystery,” she teased. “Give me about ten minutes.”

“See you then.”

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