Losing Francesca (10 page)

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Authors: J. A. Huss

BOOK: Losing Francesca
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There's no way I can go to college here now because regardless of what happens this summer, the result will most definitely be my face plastered all over the TV. So far they've kept me secret, no one has tried to exploit me, they figure it's a bargaining chip, probably. But it won't stay that way.

"I'm sorry, Francesca. You're the one who needs help, not me. I'm sorry."

I bring my attention back to Brody and turn my head so I can see him. "You know, if you keep calling me by all these different names, you're going to give me an identity crisis."

He laughs. "Yeah, OK, I'll stop calling you Fee and Fiona."

"Well, that's not what I meant, I just think you should choose one and stick with it. I don't care if you call me Francesca."
It's not even my name,
I don't add. "So call me whatever you want, but just make it the same thing every time."

He smiles but says nothing, leaving me to wonder what name he will give me.

"So your turn, best day of your life?"

"Hmmm," I say, thinking about it. "I admit, I have a lot of them, Brody. It's not that easy because I've had a very charmed life. Up until recently, I mean. But I think I'd pick today as well."

"Yeah, whatever," he sneers. "You gotta be honest, or this won't work."

"No, really. Just listen. See, I've been all over the world, I've been to schools in more than ten countries, so I could not even name them all right now. It would take some serious thinking to come up with all the schools I've gone to. And that doesn't even include my private tutors, and they were around most of the time. So for me, this day is the first time I've ever spent any real time alone with a boy, besides Nic, who doesn't really count because he's just a family friend and it was his job to spend time with me. But my dad is smart." I snicker. "Because my schools, regardless of country or continent, only ever had girls in them."

I stop here to blush furiously and this makes him grunt out a little laugh and my heart skips. "So, Brody Mason, bad boy and bane of the Sullivan family existence, you are the first boy—guy—" I correct myself quickly so I don't insult him. He's far from a boy. His shoulders are broad and his voice is deep and soothing. "You're the first guy I've ever spent time alone with."

His smile makes his eyes shine in the sunlight. "So, you've never been kissed?"

I blush again and shake my head. "No. And it's not like I minded the way I was sequestered. I didn't mind it at all, actually. I enjoyed being babied and taken care of, maybe far too much. So I just want to make it clear that I'm not unhappy and—" I stop and hesitate.

He waves his hand at me to continue talking. "Got it, Fee. You're OK with the past, but—"

I take a deep breath to make the words come out. "But I would like to start that phase of my life soon, you know? The grown-up part. So maybe this is the first day of that grown-up life and you're part of it." I stop and shrug. "It's stupid, I know."

He drags a fingertip down my cheek and moves a stray hair away from my eyes now. "It's not stupid." His eyes search me for a few more seconds. "Can I ask you something then?"

I nod, scared and excited about what it might be.

"Can I take you to the lake again tomorrow?"

The giggle escapes before I can shut it down and I cover my mouth with my hand.

"What? Did I ask the wrong question?" It starts out like a joke, but his piercing eye contact, in combination with his fingertip sliding behind my ear to tuck that stray piece of hair away, makes it the most serious and grown-up question I've ever been asked.

"I was hoping you'd ask to kiss me," I say truthfully, but blushing all the same.

"Oh, I
want
to, don't think I don't. But if you've never been kissed before, I'm sure as hell not gonna make your first one today. Not after all the commotion we started and what might be waiting for us back home. When I kiss you, and maybe I'm being forward to think I might get that chance this summer, but if it happens, I want it to be perfect. And this is not even close."

Oh. My. God.
"Brody Mason, I think you might be a gentleman."

"Yeah," he says with some amusement as he gets to his feet and pulls me up with him. "Who knew, huh?"

We walk back to the grassy meadow and pick up the bike just as the grayness of dusk begins to creep up on us. It's a long trek through the woods to go back the way we came, so Brody takes us another way and we come out on a street a few miles outside of town. Woods on the Lake is the name of this place and it's quaint and everything about it screams summer town—a place where some people live all year long, but most come only for a week or two over the summer. It's got a marina, some shops in an old-fashioned downtown, and a bunch of little restaurants and bars. Brody avoids the main street that would take us straight to the Sullivan front entrance, and instead navigates a series of side roads through the woods and we end up at another house.

His house, he announces as we pull in.

"We'll walk back to your house, if that's OK. I don't want them to hear the bike, I'd rather we make a quiet entrance."

"OK by me," I say, rubbing my arms to ward off the chilly night. It's dark now and the lightning bugs are out in force.

He grabs a flannel shirt off a hook in the garage and hands it to me. "You look a little cold, so you can wear this."

I slip the red and tan flannel shirt on and get a whiff of his scent. It's strong, filled with the smell of cars, and dirt bikes, and lake… he smells like a summer day at the lake.

He takes my hand and leads me back down his long driveway and I look back, so I can get a better look at his house. The Mason place is big and rambling, not a farmhouse like the Sullivans', but something far more modern. Sorta like a knock-off of Frank Lloyd Wright's prairie style. It's made of brick and stone, with a low sloping roof line and several levels with a long sheltering overhang over the terraces.

"I like your house," I tell him as he waits for me to turn back. "It's nice, looks very welcoming, really."

When I look back he's smiling, but it's sad. "I love this house. I love this area, to be honest. All my brother Renn talks about is moving away." He pulls on my hand a little and we walk out onto the dirt road that will lead us back to the Sullivan farm. "He's got it in his head that we can do better, but I don't know if I want to do better." He shrugs. "I like it here and if you stayed, I'd never leave."

His honesty about his feelings is both refreshing and alarming. "Are you this way with all the girls? Because Sean has a pretty severe dislike for you." I watch him as we walk, still holding hands. "But I don't see it."

"Well, Sean is an asshole—sorry, since he's your brother. We can't stand each other. But he's right, I'm definitely not someone you'd want your sister dating."

I let that go because maybe it's true and maybe it's not, but one thing's for certain—his love for Fiona is something apart from whatever else he might be. Even I can see this, and I've known the guy one day.

The walk down the dirt road is magical as the lightning bugs illuminate our path. And I almost break the easy silence to argue with him about what he said back on the beach. Because this
is
a perfect day and if he had kissed me back on the beach, that would've been the perfect first kiss as well.

Chapter Sixteen - Francesca

We're turning the corner onto the dirt road that goes past the Sullivan farm when I see the shadows in the underbrush of the woods and stop. Brody keeps walking, pulling me a little before he realizes something is wrong.

"What?"

"Just. Don't. Move." I look up at him and the confusion spreads across his face. "I'm sorry, just don't move and you'll be OK."

The red lights dance along his chest and I watch his expression as he finds the same laser targets on mine as well. "What the—"

"I'd follow that advice she just gave you, Mr. Mason. Or you might find yourself dead from inexplicable circumstances." Some big guys with guns come out from the trees, one of them talking, the others just aiming at us. "And how would those little brothers of yours get along without you?"

Brody says nothing but he stares down at me as he shakes his head.

There's no time to explain because a long black car pulls up, the door opens from the inside and I'm pushed in.

I slide in and then have to scoot all the way over next to the waiting man as the agent from outside pushes me a little. Agent Barker is not amused, because I've seen him amused a few times and this is not what it looks like.

"Miss Sabatini, would you mind telling me just what the fuck you think you're doing?"

I cringe at his language but answer him quickly to keep his anger in check. "Walking home, that's all."

He looks over at me for the first time and lets out a breath. "Walking home after disappearing for an entire day? You were warned about complying with the judge's orders, correct?"

I roll my eyes. "You know I was."

"I could arrest you for this, hold you indefinitely as a terror suspect."

"Don't be ridiculous. I'm an American citizen. You have very little recourse if I want to go for a walk, Barker. I'm playing your game because it's the easy way out. Just sit tight until Fiona's birthday and then walk out of here a free girl. These people were mean this morning and I won't put up with it. Either they treat me nice or my part in this charade is over. You know damn well I'm not Fiona Sullivan, yet you string these people along, making them hope, making them wish I was. And I'm gonna tell you right now, this will backfire, you watch."

I look back as the car pulls off and catch Brody getting patted down and handcuffed. "And if you hurt Brody Mason over this, I'll show you what kind of power I can wield if I really try. I might be a kid, and I might be in a bad situation, but I am not powerless, Barker. I assure you, I am not."

Barker taps his ear and whispers for the men to let Brody go and then looks over at me. "Happy?"

"No, actually. You just cornered us with a SWAT team! What am I gonna tell him the next time we meet?"

"There's no next time,
Francesca
." He says my name with disgust and this almost makes me laugh. "You're here to get to know the Sullivans, not the town asshole."

"The only way there's no next time is if you remove me from the Sullivan farm, because I actually like this guy. He's nice to me, he listens to me, and if I have to be stuck here all summer, I'm gonna find a way to enjoy it."

He keeps his silence as we pull into the farm. Everyone is on the porch—Sean and Frank, both looking very,
very
pissed off, Lindsey and Aimee, looking scared to death, Angela, looking worried, and the twins, who are talking to each other.

"You've upset this entire family, Fiona. Put yourself in their shoes. Stop with the lies." He smiles sweetly at me. "You belong to
them
, you know. Not that man who raised you."

"He's not coming. You're wasting your time with me."

"I know, Fiona. I know. He's left you here to figure it out yourself. Now, I ask you, is that something a father does?"

I feel the heat climb up my neck and spread to my face, that's how much this hurts me, but Sean opens the door and the other guy who was blocking me from escaping scoots out. I look over at Barker one last time and spit out my words. "No matter how many times you say it, it will never be true. He loves me, I am his life, and I will see him again."

I scoot out and don't wait for an answer, and that's a good thing because Sean has a firm grip on my upper arm and is dragging me back into the house. He stops in the foyer and glares at me as everyone else files in behind. "So, you speak English now, huh?"

"Yes," I spit back. "I speak English. I'm not Italian, I'm not your fucking daughter." I scream that part at Frank. "And I want to go home! You're holding me prisoner and I want to go home!"

I try to walk away but Sean grabs me again. "No way, Fiona. You're not leaving like this. You live
here
for the next seven weeks, we're your fucking family, and you will not act out or treat people with disrespect!"

"Disrespect? That's hilarious! I have to be sweet and nice and you guys get to ruin my life? I don't think so."

There is absolute silence in the foyer as we all stare at each other. Aimee is crying and Lindsey is stroking her hair.

"OK," Angela says after letting out a long breath. "Maybe we should all go to bed and talk about this in the morning." She turns to Frank. "Is that OK?"

Frank walks away and never says a word.

Lindsey takes Aimee upstairs. Angela rubs my arm and says, "Goodnight." And then it's just Sean and me.

"You're not my brother," I say cruelly.

He just stands there and stares at me for several seconds before he finds his voice. "I am your brother, Fiona. I
am
your brother. We're not blood related, but we are siblings whether you want to admit or not. And I understand that this is confusing, so I'll leave you alone. But it's not my fault you were taken, it's not Frank's fault you were taken, it's not our fault that this is happening. He stole you, Fiona. He stole you and probably killed our mom. This is all
his
fault, not ours."

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