We're back in our girl's Tracey's pov! Lets get to reading :D

Tracey

I awoke suddenly, no slow warming up or sleepiness. I sat up, eyes wide and alert, the last remnants of my dream erased. There was a cast on my arm and neck, my legs were numb, I could barely feel them at all. Everything ached, and a shooting pain throbbed in my stomach, like something was squeezing and yanking at my insides. Crap, it hurt so bad. There were no signs of blood, but my belly was bruised. What happened to me? Where the heck was I?

There were wires all over me, connected to big machines beside me. There was an IV secured into my hand with tape. The cute bohemian dress I borrowed from Franklin's aunt had been replaced with a gown, like those ugly blue ones they give you at the hospital…

I frowned, the realization that I had been admitted into a hospital began to sink in. I bit my lip, my gaze darted about the room. It was like a concrete pen, empty and lonely, the air reeked of disinfectant. I snatched the oxygen tubes out of my nose, and gazed at door. Where was everyone?

There was a bouquet of fresh sunflowers beside my bed, a cute little stuffed animal was propped on the glass vase. It was a panda bear—the one Franklin gave me on our first date! I smiled, and swept the animal into my arms. My heart fluttered. I missed my panda so much. I missed Franklin even more. I needed to see him. I would call him, but I didn't have a phone…

The door swung open. Uncle T appeared, his gaunt, scarred face brightened at the sight of me. "Tracey!" he exclaimed, pulling me into a tight hug. His rough embrace was rather painful, and he stunk of beer and sweat, but I fought through the discomfort, hugging him back. Despite everything, I was glad to see him.

"We fucking did it, kid," Uncle T said, he gave me a playful noogie on my head. "Madrazo is done, he's a thing of the past!"

"Really?" My heart skipped a beat. "He's gone?"

"He's six feet under, gone, dead, in the grave and laid to rest, the slippery fucker didn't get away this time." He smiled. "No more looking over your shoulder, wondering if a little Mexican fucker is going to pop out and shank ya. No more hiding, no more dread—your old man and I settled things with Vagos and the cartel. Your life of being an useless damsel in distress is finally over! How does it feel?"

"Um…" I narrowed my eyes at him. His words sounded too good to be true. "Is he really gone? Did you and Dad kill him?"

"Tracey, the guy is dead, and he ain't coming back. And for a moment there, I thought you weren't coming back either."

"What do you mean?"

"You've been out for almost a week now, kiddo."

I cringed, "Seriously?"

"Yep. Wow, your father is gonna fuckin' lose it when he finds out you're finally awake. Man, the poor sap hasn't been himself since you've been out. All he does is whine and complain—'I ruined my kid's life', 'I'm a terrible father', so much tears and regret…" Uncle T shook his head. "It's pathetic, honestly."

A man in a lab coat strode into the room, his wrinkled face hard and stern. He moved with purpose, gazing at me for only a second before his sight quickly settled on the chart within his gnarled grasp. "Finally awake, Ms. DeSanta?" he asked, his voice was deep and scratchy, as if he had had far too many cigarettes in his lifetime. "How are you feeling?"

"Are you blind, doctor?" Uncle T asked. "Look at her! My niece has just awoken from the brink of death, she's covered in bruises from head to toe, she looks like hell, man. We—I mean, she, needs painkillers! The strongest you got, pronto."

"Sir, I'll need to run some tests first—"

"Fuck your tests, you insensitive little cunt." Hands balled into fists, and muscles tensed, Uncle T glared at the doctor, his tone grew low and threatening. "Go get us the drugs, now."

"O-okay," the doctor cowered, and retreated for the exit.

A wave of nervousness hit me. For a moment, I had forgotten how crazy he could get sometimes…

Uncle T turned to face me, and smiled, his threatening demeanor quickly dispersed. "You know, I just don't get doctors. To be so smart, they ask the dumbest fucking questions. It really grinds my gears—"

"What doesn't grind those deranged gears of yours, T?" Dad's smooth voice filled the room. He stepped through the door, and I beamed at him. I never thought I'd be so excited to hear the click-clack of his fancy shoes as he approached.

"Daddy!" I called out to him.

Dad stopped in his tracks the moment he laid eyes on me, his jaw dropped. "T-Tracey?"

"Hey, Dad," I replied. "Missed me?"

A slow smile building on his face, he rushed to my side, and threw his arms around me. "Are you fucking kidding me?" he his voice cracked with emotion. "My baby girl! You're awake. Jesus Christ, it's been so long. I-I thought you weren't gonna make it."

"I'm fine, Dad."

"Told ya she'd be alright, Mikey," Uncle T said. "She's a tough kid."

"Of course she's tough, she's a DeSanta for crying out loud," Dad said. He planted a kiss on my forehead. "I gotta call your mother and let her know the good news. Man, she's gonna be stoked. I'll be right back, princess."

Dad pulled away, and disappeared into the hall.

I felt the heat of Uncle T's gaze on me. "Nice panda you got there," he said. "And the flowers—where'd it come from?"

"I think it's from Frank," I replied. "Have you seen him lately?"

"Nope, haven't seen your boyfriend since the night you guys had that car accident. I wanted to offer my condolences for the death of his Asian buddy—Hao I think his name was, right?"

"What?" I frowned. "Hao is dead?"

"He died instantly I heard, from the heads on collusion. It was a nasty accident, kid. It's a miracle you and Frank are still breathing."

My heart sank as I took in the news of Hao's demise. I couldn't believe it. It wasn't fair that I was alive, and he wasn't. He risked everything to save my life. But why? He barely knew me. Why did he decided to go to war with Madrazo anyway? It was too late to ask Hao anything now, but maybe Franklin knew.

Tears swelled in my eyes. Where the heck was Franklin? I needed him to be here. "Have you tried calling him?" I asked.

"Plenty of times, but my calls go straight to voicemail. Weird, right? It's not like Frank to avoid his friends, the kid is far too loyal, one of my favorite qualities about him."

"Uncle T," I sniffed. "Can you please help me find my boyfriend?"

"Yeah, yeah, I can do that for you. I'll ask around, kick a few doors down maybe, and see if I get any leads on where he might be. I think I'll make a stop at his auntie's house first, one of the homies in the neighborhood is bound to know something. Be back in a jiffy—"

"Wait." Although it hurt like hell, I managed to climb out of bed to my feet. "Take me with you."

"What?" Uncle T scoffed. "How am I gonna take you anywhere? You got a broken arm, a fucking cast on your neck—you can barely walk, kid."

"I don't care," I muttered, wincing as I took a careful step forward. I wasn't going to get far while hooked up to all these machines, but I didn't care. My legs abruptly gave out. I yelped, Uncle T broke my fall before I hit the floor.

"Jesus! Take it easy, will ya? C'mon, let's get you back to bed—"

"No!" With all the strength I could muster, I rose to my feet yet again. "It might take me years, but I'll find my boyfriend no matter how bad it hurts, whether it's the last thing I do." I gazed at Uncle T. "So are you going to help me find him, or not?"

He smirked. "You got fire in your eyes, kid. You won't take no for an answer, I like that. I was the same way around your age, I grabbed life by the balls and screwed everyone who tried to get in my way. You and I—we're one in the same. You know what? Fuck it, I'm breaking you out of sick, lifeless hole. C'mon, let's blow this joint, and go find the love of your life."

It was a bright, sunny afternoon in the city. Forum Drive was rowdy as usual, dogs barking, children playing tag in the streets, pedestrians strolled along, chatting with one another as they walked. The sun beamed on my face, glistening over the street's pavement, my gaze locked on the blue, cloudless sky. It felt amazing to be out of that concrete pen of a hospital. I didn't need any stupid doctors, I didn't need medication. I could live and breathe off the city's beauty alone.

Uncle T and I made a stop at a Suburban clothing store before we made it to Franklin's old neighborhood. I had to change out of that ugly hospital gown for some real clothes. I threw on the first outfit I saw at the shop—a pair of jean shorts and a white tank top.

Uncle T parked his pickup truck on the side of the road before Franklin's aunt's bungalow. He helped me out of the passenger seat, allowing me to lean on him for support.

"I got something for ya," he reached into the bed of the truck, and handed me a pair of crutches. "I swiped them on our way out of the hospital. Here, this should help you get around, kid."

I smiled at my crazy, awesome uncle, who wasn't really my uncle but I still loved him all the same. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it. Hey, I got about ten missed calls from your father. I gotta feeling he isn't taking our sudden disappearance from the hospital too well, so let's make this quick before the fat fuck has a heart attack, alright?"

I followed Uncle T's lead toward the house. These crutches were going to take some getting used to, climbing the porch steps alone was extremely exhausting. It didn't help that Uncle T was always in such a rush, maintaining my balance in order to keep up with him was a battle itself. However, it was my decision to ditch the hospital and come all this way, and I was determined to see it through.

Uncle T pounded on the front door. "Hello? Anybody home?"

We waited for a minute or so for someone to answer. No one came. I pressed my ear to the door. I couldn't hear a thing on the other side, no footsteps, no voices—nothing.

"I don't think anyone's home," I said.

Uncle T stepped aside and glanced through the window. "Well, would ya look at that? Looks like Frankie's auntie packed up and moved without sending a memo. That, or all of her shit has been stolen."

"What are you talking about?" I took his side and peered through the dusty glass into the living room. Uncle T was right, all the furniture inside was gone. The house was empty from what I could tell, all that remained was cobwebs and dust.

"Hey!" a voice called out from behind us. There was a slender black woman staring at us from the sidewalk. Headphones hanging loosely around her neck, and blue tracksuit soaked with sweat, she bounced up and down in place to the rhythm of her music. Seemed like she was having a good workout. "Y'all looking for Denise?"

"We sure are, darling," Uncle T replied. "Have you seen her?"

She shook her head, the masses of her kinky curls swayed with every movement. "Denise ain't here no more, been gone for about a day now. Just packed up and moved—ain't tell a soul about it."

"Do you have any idea where she went?" I asked.

"Girl, I don't know nothing. But word on the street is, she left her man behind too. Packed her shit while his broke ass was sleepin', and ain't been heard from since."

"Her man?" I blinked. "You mean Lamar?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "Could be. I never got his name."

"What did he look like?" Uncle T asked. "Was he really tall and dumb looking by any chance?"

"Oh yeah, he's a tall, young fella—way too young for Denise, if you ask me. Oh, and he had tattoos, the gangly type, and his hair was real nappy, that boy ain't put a comb to his head since the day he was born."

I glanced at Uncle T. "Sounds like Lamar to me."

He nodded. "The description definitely fits the bill."

"She could do better," the woman continued. "I heard him and her nephew were real close—"

"The jig is up, lady!" Uncle T blurted out, his grating voice echoed through the air. "Does it look like I give a shit what you heard? I'm not here for conversation, I'm not here for gossip. It's obvious you know a lot more than you're letting on. What are you hiding, huh?" Eyes bulging, he took a menacing step forward. "Tell us where the auntie is before things get violent—"

"Uncle T!" I nudged him with the padded end of my crutch. "Can you stop acting crazy for just one freaking second?"

"Hey, watch your tone, young lady," he said. "I don't tell you how to live your life, do I? I'd appreciate the same courtesy in return—"

"What do y'all white folks want with Denise anyway?" the woman asked. "Y'all ain't the popo or the IRS, are you?"

"Stay here and let me do the talking, Uncle T," I grumbled as I carefully hopped toward her on my crutches. Once I finally reached her and we were face to face, I flashed a warm smile. "Hi, my name's Tracey. Sorry about my uncle, he tends to get a little crazy and lash out at unsuspecting strangers when he's worried. You see, he's like, super concerned about Denise. It's not like her to up and leave out of the blue, you know?"

"You need to get your crazy ass uncle some help." She reached into her pocket, and withdrew a pen. "Look, I can give you her new number, but that's the best I can do."

"Perfect!" Uncle T jogged to my side. "What's the digits?"

The woman wrote the number on my arm cast, and swerved past us, resuming her jog.

"Looks like that cast of yours is good for something, huh?" Uncle T smiled.

"That lady has awesome memory," I said. "I suck at remembering phone numbers."

"You and I both. But when I was around your age, I had the memory of a dolphin—true, high precision, photographic memory. It was the type of shit you'd read about in a book or see in a movie—"

"Seriously?"

"Oh, yeah, definitely. I was an amazing kid, well, I'm pretty great now too, but I was even more so back in the day. The sad part is, no one knew, or even cared to notice my greatness. But that's a discussion for another day, we got a job to do, kid. Your boyfriend is missing and somebody's gotta find 'em. We can give my boy Lester a call, trace the auntie's number, and finally get to the bottom of this mystery. If we're lucky, it might lead us to Franklin too."

"Why don't we just trace Franklin's number instead?"

"We'll trace them both. Hell, we'll even trace Lamar's too, just out of curiosity. I like to keep very, very close tabs on my circle of friends—on your father especially. You might not know this sweetheart, but he's a wolf in sheep's clothing. Slippery bastard isn't to be trusted."

"You can tell me all about it after we find Franklin." I whirled around, and set off toward Uncle T's pickup truck. "He might be in trouble. It's not like him to just up and disappear like this."

"It's not Frank you should be worried about," Uncle T took my side. "It's Lamar. If Franklin's auntie really left him in the dust, the poor guy is gonna be in shambles."

"You knew about their relationship too, huh?"

"Of course I knew. I was the first to know, long before he mentioned a word about it to you and Frank. Lamar and I—we're close. We hang out all the time, we have a strong friendship, built on trust, loyalty, and respect."

I shook my head. Lamar and Uncle T hanging out sounded like a recipe for disaster. They were both psychotic, and had a bad habit for getting into trouble. Who knew how much chaos ensued whenever they were together?

Although Lamar was unstable and difficult to understand at times, there was one thing I knew for sure. He had feelings for Franklin's aunt, so much that he was willing to put his life on the line for her. If she really did walk out on him, despite her reasons, I doubt he's handling it well.

Once we reclaimed our seats within the pickup truck, Uncle T wrangled his cellphone from his jean pocket. Although the device was dented, bent out of shape, and the screen was cracked, it still managed to make phone calls. Tapping my feet against the floor, I waited for Uncle T to get his friend on the line.

The phone rang, and rang, and rang. Finally, after what felt like forever, a voice answered, awkward and nasally. "Hello?"

"Lester!" Uncle T shouted. "How ya doing, old pal?"

Lester sighed heavily. "Great, it's you again. What do you want, Trevor?"

"Straight to the point, huh? Okay, so, can you do me a solid? I need you to track a couple numbers for me."

"No. We've been through this already, I'm done spying on people for you—"

"It's important this time. Frank is missing."

"Missing? Something happen to him? How did you and Michael fuck things up this time?"

"Jesus!" Uncle T blurted. "All the fucking questions! Our friend could be rotting in a ditch somewhere, and you're babbling on, wasting valuable time. Can you help us find him or not?"

"Alright, alright, calm down. I'll see what I can do." There was a moment of silence. I crossed my fingers, hoping for good news as I stared anxiously at the phone. "You're not going to believe this, Trevor," Lester snickered.

"Try me," Uncle T replied.

"If my sources are correct, which they are ninety-nine percent of the time… our friend, Frank, is in Sandy Shores."

My eyes widened. What the heck was he doing there? Why on f-ing earth would he go back to the desert?

Oh my god, y'all! Ten chapters down! Thank you so much for staying along for the ride, we've come a long way together lol. It was hard work, but it was worth it. I know the chapters might take a while to update, but I like to take my time when I write, so I can supply you guys with (hopefully) quality content. Please leave a review, fav and follow if you like the fic and want me to continue, I need your support! Thank you so much guys, I love you!