Aftermath by Tracy Brown Read Free Book Online Page B

that his brother was killed. It’s a lot to digest in one night.”
    Camille took a deep breath. She knew that Frankie needed time to sort out everything that was happening. Shit, she hadn’t processed it all herself. But, as she packed a suitcase to take to Dominique’s house, she admitted to herself that it was deeper than just tonight. She knew that things in her family would never be the same again. Frankie had left her for Gillian. Camille was pregnant with his child. Steven was dead. Misa was in jail. And poor Shane had been victimized. In a daze, Camille left her million-dollar home amid the flashing lights of news cameras and the curious stares of her neighbors. As she climbed into Dominique’s MKX, shielding her face from the news photographers, she cried for all of them. This was worse than anything she could have ever imagined.

Reckoning
    The sun had come up, and Gillian had brewed a fresh pot of coffee by the time Frankie returned to her Manhattan home. By then her imagination had gotten the best of her. Last she’d heard, Frankie was running off to the home he shared with his estranged wife—who, incidentally, had just announced that she was pregnant. Gillian had lain awake all night while Danno and Biggs patrolled her home like pit bulls. She wondered what had happened to Steven, wondered why Frankie hadn’t bothered to call. Gillian was worried sick.
    When Frankie came through the door at just after seven-thirty in the morning, Gillian was standing near her floor-to-ceiling kitchen windows gripping a coffee mug. Seeing him enter, she set the mug down on the nearby marble countertop and looked at him expectantly. Her eyes seemed sad, and Frankie almost dissolved in a puddle of tears at her feet. He hated having to burden her with more horrible news. But what had happened to his brother was not something he could keep from her.
    He walked over to her and pulled her close to him. His strong arms overwhelmed her as he inhaled her scent. With his nose nestled in her hair and her face buried in the crook of his arm, Frankie openly cried. Gillian’s hair became damp with his tears and she clung to him, aware that his underlings were still present and that Frankie had never been one to cry in public before. Despite the grimmest of circumstances, he kept a stiff upper lip. But now he openly wept, seeming not to care who saw him fall apart. Finally, he loosened the grip he had on her and she reached up and touched his face, wet with tears. Glancing around she noticed that Danno, Biggs, and Tremaine had had sense enough to withdraw to her study.
    She looked at Frankie, his eyes squeezed shut as if to stop the torrent that was pouring forth. “What happened?” she whispered softly. “Come here.” Gillian kissed Frankie’s exquisite lips and wiped his face. “Tell me, Frankie. What happened?”
    Frankie shook his head back and let out a deep and seemingly calming breath. When he looked at Gillian again, his eyes were red and puffy. She led him by the hand to her living room and got him situated on the couch. Sitting beside him, she squeezed his hand as he began.
    â€œMy brother is dead.” Frankie’s voice was monotone, his eyes distant. “Misa shot him. She…” His voice caught in his throat then. Clearing it out, he clenched his jaw, folded and unfolded his hands, and then went on. “She went to the house while no one was home last night. She had keys.” His voice got louder. “You know what I’m saying? We trusted that bitch with keys to the house ’cuz her son was over there all the time. She let herself in. And she waited for him. And when he came in, she shot him.” Gillian couldn’t believe what she was hearing, but she kept quiet as he continued. “Pulled the trigger six times and then sat there. Camille found her in the dining room.”
    Gillian couldn’t be silent any longer. She almost