Aftermath by Tracy Brown Page B

mother’s face—Mary Jane Bingham. She was once a beautiful woman, tall and brown, statuesque and ladylike. She was always quiet, had always been shy and soft-spoken. But it had gotten worse over the years, and Mary had remained a scared and beaten-down wife long after her husband was dead.
    â€œWhy didn’t you feel the need to take care of your mother the same way you did for Steven after your father died?”
    Frankie stared at Gillian, having asked himself the same question over and over. “Because my brother had no choice but to stay there and deal with it. He was a kid, you know what I’m saying. But my mother? She could have left whenever she was ready. She could have got us out of there. She was always so fragile, and … maybe I shouldn’t fault her for it.”
    Gillian shook her head. “No, I think I would feel the same way.” She wondered how the news of Steven’s death would affect poor Mary Bingham. “When are you going to tell her? I want to be there with you.”
    He laughed a little. “How do I tell her this shit? It’s gonna destroy her.”
    â€œI don’t know how we’ll tell her. But we’ll figure it out, Frankie.”
    She made it sound so easy, but Frankie knew that it wouldn’t be. He breathed a heavy sigh and sat back against the pillows on the couch. He couldn’t block out the recollection of Steven’s face in his head. He saw his brother lying in the body bag, his eyes frozen in horror as he lay dead. There was no question in his mind that somebody—Camille, Misa—somebody was going to pay for what had been done to Steven.
    Gillian looked at him as if she could read his mind. Frankie realized then how much he loved her. She was all that was good in his life at the moment. In his mind, Camille had held him hostage in a marriage he no longer wanted to be in. He had felt obligated to Camille for all the years of loyalty and love she had given him, but truth be told he hadn’t been happy in years. And now, just as he found the courage to leave her and to live his life doing what made him truly happy, she was pregnant with his child. Camille’s sister had killed his brother and accused him of an atrocity, dredging up years of Frankie’s own childhood nightmares, which he had managed somehow to suppress in order to survive. Now he’d have to face his mother with more bad news in a life that had been riddled with nothing but. His “brother” Baron was laid up in the hospital, responsible for the death of his father figure, Doug Nobles. But as he looked at Gillian sitting there, Frankie felt reassured. She was beautiful, she understood him, she had his back and he was grateful.
    â€œI love you, Frankie. And no matter what, nothing’s gonna change that. We’re gonna get through this together.”
    Frankie kissed her, pulled her close to him. She lay against his chest and he held her, hoping that their bond could indeed stand the trials that loomed ahead of them.

Fingerprints
    It was tight in the back of the squad car as Misa was driven to the police station that night. With her hands cuffed firmly behind her back—the female officer who put the handcuffs on had expressed concern that Misa might slip out of them with her small wrists—she sat uncomfortably as she listened to the two officers in the front seat joke about each other’s mamas.
    Misa thought about the look on Frankie’s face. She tried to block it out as she gazed out the window at the passing motorists. She thought instead about Shane, her sweet boy with his big innocent eyes and his beautiful smile. Misa missed him more than she ever had before. She felt tears stinging at the corners of her eyes as she acknowledged her role in what had happened to her son. Misa hadn’t been there to protect Shane. In fact, she’d been so busy trying to be everything Baron Nobles had ever dreamed of that she