TC Stark: I could not help myself from cranking this chapter out. I told myself I'd work on my other stories, but I couldn't help it. I have had this idea since day one and I needed to get it out there. Thank you everyone for reviewing the last chapter. I do apologize for the last cliffhanger, I hope this chapter makes up for it. I know the subject matter of the last chapter was quite gray, I just wanted to keep the drama of the Lawless genre. I supposed I wanted to build an extreme pain. I always believed you can't know true happiness without going through your fair share of shit. Well, enjoy everyone! I know you will all like the next one!

Disclaimer: I only own Frankie and my ideas!

Chapter Ten

"Did Frankie come home last night?"

It was bright in the light of the morning. It shined brighter than it had in months, waking everyone else who lived in Blackwater Station. It had woken Maggie up. It warmed her body and burned through her eyelids, forcing her to open her eyes and greet the world before her. Her body didn't chill the way it had been during the winter months and she found herself smiling, as she slipped on one of her nice skirts and shirts.

Upon walking downstairs, she saw Forrest was awake. He always awoke during the early hours of the morning. He didn't sleep much. Maggie attributed that to all his near death experiences. Life was precious and he never knew when he was actually going to die. He believed he was immortal. She knew he believed the legend. But, something deep down wanted him to enjoy every second since everything could be taken away so quickly.

Forrest was chewing on the butt of his cigar as Maggie descended from the stairs. Her eyes wandered around, wondering. Howard had gone out already and Jack was in the back pumping gas into his car. He was planning on seeing Bertha that day, even if her daddy would probably have a thing or two to say about it.

It was just them. Forrest's dark eyes picked up as he asked, "She ain't in her room?"

"No," Maggie shook her head while placing her hands on her hips, "I didn't hear her come in last night..." Walking over, she peered outside and sighed, "Her car isn't here."

Forrest noticed the way the redhead paced around. She was worried. He knew that. She couldn't sit still. The man wanted to comfort her. Wanted to let her know that it was okay and that Frankie was okay. But, living the life he did he knew better than to live in the clouds. There was no use in sitting around and hoping things were alright.

Taking another pull of his cigar, Forrest groaned gently while heavily standing up. He was getting older and every attack on him certainly took a toll on his body. But, he was a Bondurant. Forrest Bondurant. He wouldn't lay down and give up. As long as there was air in his lungs, he would continue to fight for his family.

Placing his hat atop his head, he turned towards Maggie and said, "Stay here."

After wrangling up Jack, Forrest stepped inside his car and took off. He knew the boy had been upset about not being able to see Bertha, but he quickly got over that feeling of disappointment upon finding out that Frankie was missing. By that time the New Yorker had become a part of their family. A part of their misfits. They looked out for each other and if she was in danger then damn whoever dared to hurt her.

They had already gone to the club Frankie worked at. Her car wasn't there and the owner had said she had left that night. But, she wasn't there. So, they made their way to town in hopes of finding out where the younger woman had gone off to. It was very odd for her not to come home and Forrest had to come to terms with the fact that something had to have happened to her.

As Jack waited in the car, Forrest entered a local tavern. Some men, who were eating; stopped to look at the larger man. It wasn't often that the Bondurant made his way into town. Besides making deliveries or picking up meat, he didn't leave Blackwater Station much. They all needed to stop and watch warily as the looming figure stepped in.

"Hey, Forrest." The older man behind the bar called out.

Shifting his head over, Forrest headed towards the bartender while darting his eyes all around the bar, "Bobby."

While cleaning a glass, Bobby asked, "That girl lives you, right? Frankie Giller?"

Forrest eyed the older man suspiciously before nodding, "Yes."

"Heard she was in the hospital. Heard she was pretty beat up. Won't tell anyone what happened though."

Taking in a heavy breath, Forrest silently nodded before turning and leaving the bar. Jack was anxiously waiting against the car, taking his hat off as his brother walked towards him, "Well, do you know where Frankie is?"

"Start driving."

Frankie hadn't a clue how long she had stayed on the floor that night. How long she had let her body stay still on the hard cold ground. Her body had felt so stiff for so long. Pain had overpowered her and she couldn't move. Couldn't find the strength to move any muscle. Every bone hurt. Every muscle ached.

It felt like everything had been ripped out of her. The spirit had been torn out of her body. Her very soul felt empty. Everything that had made her want to smile during the day was gone. She was gone. Something, like sex; was supposed to be something beautiful. A dance between two people who if not in love then attracted to each other. It was supposed to be a wonderful act where both parties enjoyed every single moment.

That hadn't happened. Frankie hadn't enjoyed the act. Not one bit. Charlie Rakes hadn't been any kind of man she would even consider having sex with. He had no right to inflict himself on her. To force her to perform in an act that wasn't meant for him. He took something from her that wasn't his. He took her will to even see the sunshine.

When she had finally had felt the energy flow back into her, Frankie trudged into her car and drove to the hospital. She hadn't wanted to tell the doctor what had happened to her. Hadn't wanted to reveal anything. Any names. All she wanted was a bed to sleep on during the night that wasn't at Blackwater Station.

"Ms. Giller?"

Frankie had been lying in bed, when the doctor had come in. She had been lying on her side, knees up against her stomach. She was still in throbbing pain. The nurses had looked at her strangely, when she first trudged in. She had had a bruised face, torn clothes, and blood that had dried on her inner thighs. They had cleaned her up and had asked her what had happened. But, she wouldn't tell.

With her back to the doctor, she murmured, "Yes?"

"You have visitors here."

Visitors? Frankie's heart dropped, as she turned over and watched as Jack and Forrest entered the room. Both boys had their hats off and pressed against their chests. What gentlemen. That certainly wasn't how she wanted them to see her. Once again beaten and helpless. Defenseless. That wasn't the woman she was.

Instantly Jack's eyes widened as he ran over, "Frankie, what happened?"

But, she had no voice. Couldn't speak. Couldn't even fathom speaking the words I was raped. Tightening her lips, she frowned while looking down. She couldn't even look at their sorrowful gazes. Biting her lower lip, she asked the doctor, "Can I go home?"

"Yes, you are cleared to leave," The doctor nodded, while turning to the brothers, "She drove here. Her car is in the back."

"Jack, you drive her home." Forrest commanded.

Jack quickly nodded, as he turned towards Frankie. Her legs were wobbly and she struggled to stand up. The younger Bondurant ran around to help her, but she pulled out of his grip and limped out of the room. She just wanted to put the event in the past. The brothers didn't need to know about what happened. She wouldn't give Charlie Rakes the satisfaction.

"Forrest," The doctor verbally tugged at Forrest's ear, before he could leave, "There's a piece of information I didn't feel comfortable sharing in front of Ms. Giller. I don't feel entirely comfortable now, but I feel someone should know. Maybe...she'll open up to someone because she hasn't opened up to any of us."

Forrest turned and gave the doctor a hard look, as he explained, "She came in last night...she barely could walk. We laid her down, but...it seemed to hurt her to sit. The nurses...they undressed her to clean her up. She had a lot...a lot of dried blood on her inner thighs and upon inspection...she had a fair amount of dry blood near her rectum. She was fading in and out of consciousness, so I tried to exam the area. When I even went close, she jolted up and practically ran off the bed."

Taking the information in slowly, he nodded. It was pretty gruesome details. They were private. He didn't speak ever about a woman's naked body. He didn't dare even think about something so private. To do so was rude and intrusive. He was having a look into Frankie's body. He knew that it had been traumatized and hurt. Badly.

And he knew exactly who did it.

Howard had been home, when the three had trudged through Blackwater Station. Instantly his and Maggie's head shot up; they instantly noticed Frankie's condition. Her eyes however didn't look at any of them. Rather, she shot straight up towards the stairs. Howard looked at her and turned back to his brothers, "What happened?"

"Don't ask, Howard." Forrest spoke simply, while heading back out.

Maggie raised an eyebrow, as she looked up towards the staircase. She frowned. Jack frowned as well, "She didn't say anything on the ride home."

Bowing his head down, Howard unscrewed a jar of moonshine and observed, "We ain't out of the woods just yet."

It had been rude of Frankie not to greet everyone else, but she couldn't bear to even look any of them in the eye. She had positively felt like she had let everyone at Blackwater down. She should have been stronger. Should have fought back. She was given a gun for a reason. Warned for a reason. They had all told her about Charlie Rakes. All had warned her about him. It had been the reason Forrest had given her a gun, so to defend herself.

But, she hadn't been able to do that. Hadn't been able to stop the attack. Now, Charlie held something above her. Had something to hold against her. For the rest of her life, she would live with the knowledge that that man had been inside of her. It was disgusting. She felt dirty and broken. And yet she hadn't the strength to even wash herself.

The door started to creak open. Frankie squeezed her eyes shut. She didn't even want to know who had entered the room. It was probably Maggie. Bless her heart. Even in front of Maggie she felt pathetic. The woman was so reserved. So strong. The redhead had shared her own rape experience with her and yet she knew that her friend had been stronger than she has.

The door closed shut and she heard heavy steps move towards her. Much heavier than Maggie's light footsteps. Perhaps even too heavy for Jack. Frankie's lips trembled as she quietly asked, "Please leave me alone."

"It's alright, Frankie."

Forrest. She knew his voice. Knew it well. Why had he come there? The older Bondurant was so strong. He had been through so much. She felt she could never be that strong. Perhaps it had been a bad decision to move to Franklin. Maybe she should have accepted her fate and gone to the mental asylum. She just felt so weak.

Hugging her own body, she whimpered as she felt Forrest sit down on the other side of the bed. His weight pushing down the mattress. She didn't even want him to see her and in her condition. It was pathetic. She couldn't stop herself from curling up and wanting to give up. She wasn't strong like they all were. She wasn't a Bondurant.

"You don't need to do this alone." He spoke.

Tears began to form in the pools of her eyes as she squeezed them tight and bit back a cry. Heavily breathing, she whimpered, "I didn't even use the gun...I didn't see him coming."

Forrest gulped and tried his best to be as sensitive as possible, "Was it the Special Deputy?"

"Yes," She cried quietly, "He-He just...he just c-came up behind me."

He could see the way her shoulders shook. Could she her body tightening into itself and attempt to provide some sort of protection and comfort for herself. She was breaking down right in front of him and he didn't know what to do. He could see the guilty look upon her face. All he wanted to let know at that moment was there was nothing to be feeling guilty about.

Making a low guttural sound, he spoke, "Frankie, look at me."

"Just go away, Forrest," Frankie pleaded, feeling despair take over her, "I don't want to talk."

"Oh, you're gonna talk. How am I going to resolve this if you don't tell me what happened?"

Frankie had only heard him speak so firmly once before. It was the first time she had been beaten. Turning around, she frowned, "No one said you had to resolve anything for me. I'm just the nuisance around here. Don't pay any mind."

Frowning, Forrest corrected her, "Now, you know that's not true."

"I should have fought him off, I should have been able to stop him," Eyes watering, Frankie hiccuped while trying to contain herself, "He's taken everything from me."

"Don't you let him do that."

There was no stopping the tears that rolled down her cheeks. Frankie bit her lower lip hard and looked away. She tried to contain herself, but her face contorted in pain and sorrow, "He made me just a body. No soul. No life. Just...Just another hole to be filled. I-I've never...I've never been forced upon before. Even with my condition. I-I've never been penetrated anally before...and...and he's taken that," Burying her face in her hands, she cried, "I tried to fight him off, Forrest, but I couldn't. He just...he just kept going and going. He didn't care about my pain, he just...he just used me...as a message to send you. He used himself as a weapon..."

Forrest's chin tilted up as his full lips tightened and his breath flowed through his nostrils heavily. He was stiff and unsure of what to say. Frankie was breaking down and she couldn't contain herself. She was in pain, both inside and out. Charlie Rakes had anally raped her. It was violent and despicable. It was low. It wasn't right. No man had that kind of power over a woman.

Seeing her fall apart before him truly tore at his heart. He felt enraged. Angered. There was murder in his eyes and he would make that little weasel from Chicago pay. He had crossed the line. After everything terrible he had done, raping Frankie had been the worst. He had shown his true colors and proved how much of a little rat he was.

He would be mad. He would exact revenge. Charlie had wanted to send a message and it had been received. He just didn't know that he had signed his death warrant. Should have made sure the son of a bitch was dead the first time around. He had gotten Maggie raped and he didn't accept that. He had wished he had known sooner so that he could have done something sooner. He wouldn't make the same mistake with the blonde girl.

But, he couldn't leave her. Not in the condition she was in. Frankie would only lay in sorrow and cry herself to sleep. She would be taken over by a feeling of loneliness, which there was no cure for. She would only dive deeper into depression and she might never trust a single human being again. She might never be herself again.

Frankie desperately needed comfort. Definitely needed human contact. Needed to feel the warmth of someone who cared and know that it wasn't her fault. Forrest couldn't stand thinking that she would spend her whole day lying trapped within her own mind. She would continue to think about what had happened to her. Continue to live it over and over again.

Reaching over, Forrest touched his large hand upon her back. Instantly, Frankie froze at the male touch. Her body was still traumatized from her rape. He'd suspect she'd be that way for a while. Nervous. Paranoid. Fearful that she would be raped once again. He simply kept his hand there, so to show her she could relax.

Once she did, Frankie dove her face against his chest. Her arms wrapped around his waist and she started to cry. She begged for the comfort of another human being and Forrest sat still as she tucked herself against him. He let her cry against him and take solace in his warmth. He felt the hair atop her head against the bottom of his chin and he felt her arms cling tightly to him. Her legs curved against his hip and he didn't mind.

Gently rubbing his thumb against her cheek, he softly spoke, "Don't let him take all of you."