Frankie

“The path to paradise begins in hell.”

- Dante Alighieri • Inferno

-The past

-Frankie - (9 years old)

I was nine years old, and I already knew how to shield someone from a beating. That wasn’t a skill any kid should have to learn, but here I was.

The dormitory was cold, the kind of cold that seeped into your bones and made you feel like you’d never be warm again. The thin blanket Noah and I shared did nothing to keep it out. I was half-asleep when I felt him jerk awake beside me, his small body trembling like a leaf in a storm. His breath hitched, and then the crying started—soft at first, but it always grew louder. It was the same nightmare. Always the same.

“Noah, shhh, it’s okay,” I whispered, sitting up and pulling him close. His face was buried in my shoulder, his sobs soaking through my nightshirt. “You’re safe, Noah. It’s just a dream.”

Jamie was already climbing out of his bunk across the room, crouching beside us in the dark. His voice was quiet and gentle, the way Dad’s used to be when he was trying to calm one of us down after a nightmare. “Hey, buddy, it’s just us. You’re here with me and Frankie. No one’s gonna hurt you, okay?”

But Noah couldn’t stop. His cries were raw, guttural, like they were being ripped out of him. “He’s—he’s bleeding! Dad’s bleeding! I can’t—I can’t make it stop!” His words were broken, jagged, and they cut through me every time. He’d been there that night. He’d seen it all. The man with the gun. Dad falling. The blood. The screaming. And now it was all he could see when he closed his eyes.

“Noah, listen to me,” Jamie said, his hands on Noah’s shoulders. “Dad’s not here. That man’s not here. It’s just us. Just us.”

But it was too late.

The dormitory door slammed open.

The warden stood there, belt in hand, eyes bloodshot and filled with rage. He looked like a monster, his hair sticking up, his face angrier than I’d ever seen. The belt in his hand gleamed faintly, and my stomach dropped.

“I told you,” he barked, his voice a low growl that made the other kids in the room shrink under their blankets, “if that boy wakes up the whole damn house again, there’d be hell to pay.”

Jamie was on his feet in an instant, stepping between us and the warden. “He’s just scared. He didn’t mean to wake anyone,” he said, his voice trembling but firm.

The warden didn’t care. He never cared. “Move,” he ordered, gripping the belt tighter.

“No,” Jamie said, planting his feet like a soldier facing down a tank.

The belt whistled through the air, and Jamie took the first hit across his shoulder. He didn’t cry out, but I saw him flinch.

I threw myself over Noah, pressing him into the mattress and shielding his body with mine. I could feel him shaking, his tears soaking into my sleeve. Jamie followed my lead, draping himself over both of us like a shield.

The belt came down again and again, each strike like fire against my skin. I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood, but I wouldn’t let myself scream. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

Noah was sobbing now, his fingers clutching my shirt, his body trying to make itself smaller, his voice muffled against my collarbone. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he kept saying, over and over.

But it wasn’t his fault. None of this was his fault.

The warden didn’t stop until all three of us had marks to remember him by. “Next time,” he spat, panting, “I’ll make sure he remembers.”

The door slammed shut behind him, and the room was plunged into darkness again. Jamie slumped against the bed, his breath coming in short, pained gasps. I could feel the welts rising on my back, hot and angry, but I didn’t care. All I cared about was Noah, still trembling in my arms.

“It’s okay,” I whispered, even though it wasn’t. Nothing was okay. Not since Dad died. Not since Mom. Not since they’d taken everything from us and thrown us into this place where no one cared if we lived or died. “We’re together, Noah. That’s all that matters.”

Jamie reached over, his hand finding mine in the dark, his grip was tight. “We’ll get out of here,” he said in a quiet, strained voice. “One day. I promise.”

I wanted to believe him. I really did. But as I lay there, holding Noah, feeling the ache in my body and the emptiness in my chest, it was hard to imagine a day when things would ever be okay again.

✚✚✚

Welcome to Frankie!

You’re about to dive headfirst into a world of blood, betrayal, and dangerous love.

This ain’t a fairytale. There are no knights in shining armor here, there are only killers, liars, and the people reckless enough to love them anyway.

Frankie is NOT your damsel in distress. She’s ruthless, unhinged, and plays by her own rules. You’ll watch her make questionable choices, stab first and ask questions NEVER. But deep down, under all that rage and ruthlessness, there’s a heart that loves just as fiercely as it fights.

⚠️ Warnings.

This book is packed with violence, murder, and morally gray people. If you’re looking for something soft and fluffy, do yourself a favor and turn back now because this isn’t it. But if you’re here for sharp knives, sharper dialogue, and a woman who will set the whole world on fire for revenge, then, baby, welcome to the chaos.

You’ve been warned. Now, buckle up, because this ride is gonna be crazy.

- Sabrina