Up in Smoke (King #8)

“Listen here, Rambo Barbie,” Preppy says, taking a step toward her as we reach the van.

“Children,” King warns.

Nine opens the door, and I place Frankie gently across the seat. She’s fading fast. Everyone heads further into the woods to retrieve their bikes, and Rage her Vespa. Preppy hops in with us, and Nine backs us out and speeds down the road.

“Why did you do this?” I ask Frankie as I haul her across my lap and look down at her beautiful face.

My chest is hurting. My throat burns every time she gasps for air. She winces with every rattling breath.

“You risked your life,” I tell her, and I want to yell at her, throttle her, punish her for putting herself in danger like that. But my need to punish her dies a quick death when her eyes close and her chest shakes. “Why?”

Frankie’s eyes open slightly. She stares up at me. “For you. For the flash drive,” she coughs out. Her head falls to the side. Her eyes close.

This time they stay closed.





Chapter Fifty-Eight





“I’ll love you with everything I have and all that I am. It ain’t much, but it’s yours if you’ll let me give it to you. If you’ll wake up. Please fuckin’ wake up, baby. Wake the fuck up!” I beg Frankie as I carry her in the front door of the club.

I set her down on the pool table in the main office area. I’m gentle for the first time in my memory, careful not to bump her head. I feel like a meteor struck the earth, splitting it in two because my world has been split in two. With the sudden possibility that Frankie may no longer be in that world, it all might as well crumble to dust.

Rage is watching me. I can feel her eyes at my back.

“If you’re going to stand there staring, you might as well fucking help,” I bark.

Frankie let’s out a strangled breath, and for a moment, I think she’s waking up until the sound fades, and nothing is left in its place.

I’ve been shot before. I’ve been stabbed. But nothing, nothing I've ever experienced could compare to the pain of possibly watching the only woman I'd ever truly loved take her very last breath.

“Smoke, I'm not a damn paramedic, I can't put her back together,” she says, her calm voice grates on me like sandpaper across my knuckles.

“Neither can I,” I whisper.

Frankie was the one who had gathered up all the scattered pieces, all the jagged shards of me and painstakingly, piece by piece, put me back together.

My despair turns to anger as my throat closes.

I can't do the same for her.

“Why is that little shit taking so long!” I roar.

I look back to Rage, she's eyeing me cautiously. She's not frantic, but that's not her style. Never was. She twirls the end of her long blonde ponytail between her fingers.

“He's coming. I called him. He knows better than to stand me up.”

There is no doubt in my mind that that's true. Any man, ship, or person would be insane to skip out on Rage. And although I know she's changed in so many ways, I'm glad that she still can command the kind of fear that has men bending to her will.

That fear may very well save Frankie's life. After all the shit that’s gone down with this crew inside of hospitals, they aren’t trusted. Plus, they’ve got the best of the best medics and surgeons on their fucking payroll, so hospitals be damned.

My insides hurt like someone has flayed me open from neck to dick. I’m dying. I know I am. I'm dying right along with her because there is no way I can live if Frankie isn't gonna make it.

I lean down and place my ear against her chest to listen for a heartbeat, and my own seizes when I can’t hear hers over the blood rushing through my ears.

“Here, let me." Rage says, kneeling beside me. She presses the side of her head to Frankie's chest. When she lifts her head, she places her index finger under Frankie's nose. “It's shallow, but it's there."

I take a breath, and suddenly, I can feel the pounding of my heart in my chest, like just knowing Frankie was breathing was also bringing me back to life.

The medic runs in and pushes us aside. He works on Frankie quickly, tearing at her clothes and stabbing her with an IV. It’s all over in a flash. I’m looking over his shoulder because one wrong move and this fucker will be the one needing a coroner.

“Now, we wait. We’ll know more if she wakes up in the next few hours.” He runs out just as quickly as he came.

I rest my forehead on Frankie’s shoulder. She stirs, and I watch without breathing for so long I cough because my heart skips a beat.

I don’t know how long I sit there with her, but it’s a long time.

I assume Rage has been long gone until she speaks.

“You love her?” she points to Frankie who stirs again.

This time Frankie’s eyes flutter open. I’m greeted with a beautiful but strained smile that I can’t help but return. Crouching down, I take her hands in mine and press them to my lips. I don’t take my eyes off her while I answer Rage’s question.

“Yeah, I do. I fucking love her.” I kiss her hand. “So very fucking much.”





Chapter Fifty-Nine





“You got a second to talk?” Nolan asks, knocking on the open door. I knew this was coming eventually, and it might as well be while Frankie’s asleep. I pocket the flash drive and remind myself to ask Frankie about it later.

“I think I’ve had enough talking for a fucking lifetime, but sure, why the fuck not.” I slap my hands on my thighs and stand. I follow him from the room into the courtyard and shut the door quietly behind me so Frankie doesn’t wake up.

I stand in front of Nolan and cross my arms over my chest. I may be bigger than him but our fight isn’t about size. If the fucker wanted to kill me, I’d get it. Fuck, there was a time I’d have handed him the fucking gun.

The man was tied up and beaten and was forced to watch with one non-swollen eye open while I was made to fuck his girl at gunpoint.

“Rage told me about earlier. What her and Frankie did.” He shakes his head. “Those girls. Sometimes, I think Rage’s got bigger balls than me.”

“I KNOW her balls are bigger than yours,” I say.

Nolan adjusts his Wolf Warriors cut. I remind myself to ask Rage later why the fuck she didn’t join up with her man’s MC and joined The Lawless instead.

“I know you’ve kept your distance. I just wanted to let you know I appreciate that. I also wanted to let you know that I appreciate you saving my life. You didn’t owe me shit, but you did it anyway,” Nolan says.

“I did it for Rage,” I correct him.

“I know. And that’s why you don’t have a fucking bullet in your head right now,” he says with a smile.

“Fuck,” I say, taking a step closer. “You’re even starting to act like her,” I can’t help the laugh that escapes me. “You’re doing that thing she does where she says something really fucked up but with a smile on her face like she told you she’s running out for fucking frozen yogurt.”

Nolan glances at the mirror then back to me, dropping the smile. “Fuck, I am doing it,” he says.

We both laugh.

“What happened out there that night? That wasn’t your fault. None of it was,” Nolan says.