To say you didn’t like what Frankie was doing was an understatement, you loathed it. Not only was it straight up criminal, but it was dangerous and his life wasn’t guaranteed. You were not ready to send him off to god knows where and watch him never return home. But he left, and there wasn’t much you could do to stop it.

It had been a couple weeks and you were growing restless, you didn’t talk to Frankie at all in any way shape or form since he left and you were worried. You thought you’d enjoy the break from constantly taking care of him and tending to whatever he wanted but you didn’t. The only place you wanted him was home, and not risking his life for money. You two had what you needed, a decent amount of money that’d keep you set forever. So why? The answer is greed.

You were sprawled out on the couch, watching some random sexist slasher. You cringed during every scene, but that’s what made it fun. As you laid in silence, you heard the sound of a key being jammed into your door handle. Your head immediately perked up, and you sprang off the couch and in front of the door. You’d cavort excitedly as the door squeaked open revealing a very tired and very bloody Frankie.

“Frankie?” You utter worriedly, immediately placing your hands on his cheeks which were sticky due to sweat.

He huffs, and kicks the door shut while simultaneously wrapping his arms around you. He pulls you close, and places his chin on top of your head. Little did you know, during his robbery his close friend, Tom had died leaving his whole group devastated and dejected. He didn’t want to talk about it, and he didn’t.