Imaginary Frankie Novels & Stories

“Hey, Frankie! Come over here.” My mouth went dry as the man got up and walked toward us. Frankie was in his forties but looked careworn. Leathery skin covered his thin frame, but his arms were still leanly muscled. The fleur-de-lis he must have bought from Josephine was on a cord around his neck. He looked at me warily as he took the stool beside me. He was covered in scars, and one eye was milky from an injury. “Just so you know,” Frankie said in a gruff voice, “I’m only here because Oscar vouched for you.”

Yet now he could see Erwin Wilson paying quickly. Then Franky James looked at Erwin Wilson happily leaving the net, it took a long time for Franky to regain his composure. He doesn't understand what people with money think? Why can't that much money buy a decent set of clothes to wear? Is it fun to pretend to be a poor person to try to cheat other people's hearts? Franky James actually forgot one very important thing, the first day Erwin Wilson came to the virtual reality network, he really had no money. Otherwise, how could the clothes be torn to that extent?

he said politely, his mind still reeling. “Please, don’t call me ma’am, it makes me feel old. Frankie’s my name.” “Was she lying?” he demanded. Frankie sighed and shook her head, her tight curls barely even bouncing with the movement. “I wish I could say the little cow was spreading lies, but unfortunately it’s true.” “She’s homeless,” he whispered. “Why didn’t she tell me? I could have helped her.”

Once we were there, we went straight to the office. Frankie pushed through the doorway, shoulders tight. “Tell me it was false, brother.” I faced him. “Tommy is a rat. He gave them openings, and he kept going even after the hit. You know what that means.” Frankie looked between us. “He grew up with us. He is not some stray off the street.”

I say softly, still smiling as I watch him be all bashful. “Oh, that wouldn’t have been creepy at all,” he says, rolling his eyes and then returning his gaze to me, making me laugh. “Hi, my name is Frank, I’m your childhood best friend’s mafia lackey, training to be his hitman! I read the private emails you send to him, I think you’re cool!” “Awww,” I say, laughing again, “teenage Frankie sounds so friendly.” “No, he was shy,” Frank says with a short laugh and a long sigh. “But…big fan of yours. And then the reality of you, when we found out it was you that Christian brought home from that club?”

Inside was a dream; tall walls, open space, windows so big you could see everything yet nothing at all. The isolation of the property both excited and scared me, and the longer I walked around holding Armani’s hand, the more I began to feel a little hopeful again. My concerns over the last day felt silly — presumptuous. Though a part of my brain was still very aware that this could turn sour very quickly, I allowed myself to enjoy this simple few minutes with my fake husband and even smile, just a little bit.

I simply enjoyed being single and haven’t met a man that would make me change my mind, and that was it. These past few weeks, contrary to my expectations, went on uneventfully. The chain of crazy broke, thank God. Simon and Abby mentioned nothing about what happened that Monday. They knew me better than that. And the new addition to our team, Frankie, was strained at first, especially after facing Gabriel the morning after trying to rob him, but when there were no surprises in the next days, Frankie relaxed. He turned out to be a diligent worker and was always punctual. His real nature as a cheerful and happy teenager showed, and I was sure I didn’t make a mistake that night. He was at the c

She relaxed into my arms, resting her head against my chest. “You two look so comfy. Would you like me to get you something to eat?” Adam asked. I smiled at him and turned to Lizzy to ask her what she wanted, but as I did so I noticed something in my peripheral vision. Frankie had walked into the canteen and he was staring in our direction. One of his friends was trying to pull him away but he was so angry that he just kept staring at Lizzy and me. “Some Omegas are such whores, they will screw anyone for a chance at a better position in the pack,” He growled.

Frank snapped in annoyance, "Go fuck yourself! It's just been a day, and you're acting like I murdered your parents or something! Can't you wait another few days?!" However, the voice was a machine pre-recorded voice, and as it continued endlessly, Frank made sure to snap long enough before hanging up. And in under ten minutes, someone texted the SIM card that Bojo had given Frank. [Look into Lugh Frankton!] Frank waited for a day before replying: [Whitney Chandler of Chandlerton said that Lugh Frankton has a problem with money and is trying to make a quick buck.] The reply was instantaneous: [How much does he owe?]

Playfully argue about who will find the best 'piece of ass. When we finally stop it's in the parking lot of what appears to be a warehouse. We get out of the car and I pay the fare before turning to look at the building again and the near full parking lot in confusion. "It might not look like much but I promise you it is worth the money.” Patrick states with confidence. "Are you ready to have the night of your life man?" Frank calls out as he comes up to us. Frank and I have become good friends which I was unsure would happen since he is a member of the Guardian Pack.