Hey guys! So this chapter was a real bitch to write lol, but its finally done! So let's get to reading!

We used a yellow convertible as our getaway car. I had no idea who it belonged to, but Dad didn't seem to care, and managed to hotwire it rather easily. Uncle T and the others met us outside, stumbling along with stolen ice cream cartons in hand. We ate while on the road, the desert street was an endless river of baked asphalt under the waning moon. It was a starry night, and luckily, we got a clear view of the surreal, twinkling beauty overhead. Luminous and glittering, the star-speckled sky was mesmerizing.

We drove for hours, and Franklin held me close the entire way. I drifted in and out of sleep, my head lolled on his shoulder, our fingers intertwined. During our long drive, occasionally, he'd hand feed me scoops of ice cream, and shower my cheeks in playful kisses—only when my dad wasn't paying attention, of course. Daddy was too busy arguing with Uncle T most of the drive to notice a thing.

Lamar had been fast asleep since the moment his butt hit the car seat. I hope he's okay. He seemed to be handling the fallout between him and Denise well. If only I could be that strong. I wouldn't be able to cope if Franklin left me behind, especially after everything we've been through. I was too attached to him. Despite our arguments and pitfalls, he was my rock, sturdy and strong, he's always there for me when I need him. I'd be lost without him.

It was scary to depend on someone so much, but I couldn't help it.

The sun had begun to rise, streaks of pink and red scattered across the cloudless sky, golden light thwarted the darkness, bathing the earth in warmth. I awoke to the gentle melody of birdsong, and the fresh, sweet scent of early morning dew. My eyes widened at the sight of pine trees lining the road.

We weren't in the desert anymore! No more sand, no more cactuses, no more dry, stale air—we were surrounded by an oasis of green, verdant woodland. The closely-knit trees rose from the damp earth to brush the sky, sun-dappled leaves creating flickering shadows on the ground. Butterflies and moths fluttered close to the wildflowers scattered across the dewy grass, and squirrels darted amongst the fallen leaves in search for acorns. I took in a deep breath, cherishing the wholesome aroma of clean air, pine and sweet cedar.

Dad abruptly pulled over on the side of the road. Hidden within the depths of the forest was a winding footpath between the trees, it was rutted with undergrowth and mud. Pine cones dotted the rarely traveled route, glistening beneath the sun like spilled baubles. Where did the path lead?

Lamar let out a long, drawn-out yawn. "Damn, where the fuck we at?"

"Somewhere Madrazo won't find us," Dad cut the engine, and stepped out of the car.

"So, that's the plan?" Uncle T asked. "We gonna hide out in the forest like a bunch of pussies? Living on squirrel meat and acorns? Taking shits by the creek and using leaves as toilet paper? Sleeping on twigs and dirt for the rest of our lives—"

"Stop jumping to conclusions, T," Dad said. "We're just going on hike, alright?"

"A hike?" Franklin asked, his gaze darted about the surrounding shrubs and trees. "Fuck a hike, dog. Bet you there's mad big ass cougars all over this motherfucker, just waiting to eat my black ass. I rather take my chances in the motherfuckin' desert, man."

"Yeah," Lamar nodded. "I don't know 'bout y'all, but me and Frank don't fuck with no nature. We black, you feel me? Niggas like us stay as far away from the woods, and forests as possible."

"Fuck, you guys complain more than I do," Dad retorted. "No one's gonna get eaten, I promise. Just follow me, everything will make sense soon enough."

Uncle T narrowed his eyes at Dad. "You know I don't like surprises, Porkchop," he warned.

"I got guns stashed out here, lots of 'em. Couldn't leave them in the house with the kids, so I had to get creative. Anyway, we're gonna need all the firepower we can get to take on a pissed off drug cartel." Dad whirled around, and stepped onto the footpath, the mud smudging his fancy shoes.

We all took off after my father, trekking through the moist dirt and wildflowers. Pine needles and twigs crunched underfoot, our steps barely audible beneath melodic birdsong. Franklin and I lagged behind the rest of the group, my arm hooked around his to keep my balance on the uneven terrain. Brows furrowed, and muscles tensed, his wary gaze shifted about the forest frantically. Startled by the most trivial noises of the great forest, he flinched at the slightest unfamiliar sound, the tickling tap of woodpeckers and small animals rooting around in the underbrush had him on edge.

"Not used to nature, are you?" I asked, trying to stifle a laugh. "Are you going to be okay?"

He cackled awkwardly. "I'm good," he stated boastfully, feigning a smile.

"You can drop the false bravado," I nudged him playfully. "I can tell you're out of your element. You've seriously never been camping before or anything? Like when you were a kid?"

"Nah, never considered it. There ain't no local campin' grounds near the hood."

I shrugged. "You could drive. My parents took me and Jimmy camping all the time—"

"Girl, we ain't have no car when I was a kid. My moms couldn't afford it. Bills had to be paid, the lights had to stay on."

"Oh…" Heat rose to my cheeks. "I'm sorry. At least you can afford to go camping now, right?"

"Yeah, but that don't mean I want to, Trace." He swatted his hand through the air, fending off the insects buzzing around his head. "Man, all these motherfuckin' bugs—how do you deal with this shit?"

"Bug spray," I stated. "Hey, what if I wanted you to go camping with me? You'd do it, wouldn't you?"

"No," he answered, quick and without a second thought.

"Pleeeese?" I begged, hugging his muscled arm tight. "You'd let me go camping alone? What if I get attacked by a bear?"

"It ain't my fault if a bear tears the meat off yo' ass, girl. You the one who decided to go campin' alone. It ain't safe out here—"

"Frank…" I whined, my voice high-pitched and pouty. "Pretty please?"

"Nah," he said, his lips pressed into a scowl. "Ain't gonna happen."

Determined to change his mind, and lighten the mood, I bent over and picked a handful of daisies from the grass. "Here," I smiled, presenting him with the flowers.

Franklin's expression softened, a faint rosiness tinted his beautiful brown skin. "Damn, ain't you sweet?" He smiled. "Thanks, baby. "

Lamar popped up beside us and held up a three-leaf clover in front of Franklin's face. "Look what I found, nigga. This supposed to give me good luck and shit, right?"

Franklin replied, "Nah, fool. It's missin' a leaf. Four-leaf clovers are good luck, not three, dummy."

"Oh," Lamar shrugged his shoulders, and tossed the clover aside. "So, where y'all think Michael leadin' us?"

"No fuckin' clue," Franklin said. "But wherever it is, I hope we get there soon."

Lamar's gaze shifted to a sturdy stick lining the path. He swept the solid wood into his grasp, and smirked. "Y'all know all kinds of shit be lurkin' in these forests, right? Bears, wolves, wild boar—I ain't tryna get caught out here slippin, you know what I'm sayin'?"

Franklin furrowed his brows. "And you think that bitch ass stick is gon' save you from a wild ass animal, huh? What you finna do if a bear roll up?"

"Let a bear try some slick shit. I won't kill 'em, 'cause you know, that's animal abuse, and I got a special connection with four legged creatures and shit. But I'll knock a motherfuckin' bear out cold if I got to—put knots all over that fat ass, furry motherfucker's head. Clack, clack, nigga! Bear down, early hibernation, you feel me? He gonna be dreamin' about stealing picnic baskets the whole year through—"

"Bullshit, nigga," Franklin chuckled. "That bear finna tear a hole in yo' scrawny ass, dog."

"Nah, nigga, nah. I could take a bear, easy."

"No, you can't, stupid."

"Yeah, I can, fool. I got this stick, I'm good."

"That stick ain't gonna do shit. A bear could snap that shit in two without even tryin'."

Lamar rolled his eyes. "You know what? Fuck the bear. Keep talkin' shit about my stick, and I'ma lay yo' ass out with it instead."

"Try it, bitch," Franklin retorted with a smirk. "I dare you."

"You know I got the advantage, right? I'm taller, I got mad reach, I'm faster—"

"But I'm stronger, homie."

"So?"

"What you mean 'so'?" Franklin snapped. "Strength makes a difference, nigga."

"No, it don't," Lamar rebuked. "You fat and slow, you won't even touch me, man."

"Man, fuck you."

"You know it's true. You too damn big, dog. Just accept it, motherfucker, and make the change. Go on a vegan diet or some shit…"

As Franklin and Lamar continued to spit insults at one another, arguing about who would win in a fight, I tuned them out, focusing on the route ahead. At the end of the footpath, tucked beneath a cluster of trees and obscured by leafy canopy, stood a redwood cabin. It was stooped low on a grassy hill, as if trying to hide, but the drooping brick roof was too wide to be overlooked. Long vines and wildflowers grew against the mud-chinked logs.

The lodge was undoubtedly built long ago, the wood chipped and dusty, but it held a natural, rustic beauty. It was timeless, still standing despite the isolation and disrepair. It was a small wonder the structure hadn't caved in yet.

Without a care of who, or what lingered within, Dad strode right through the warped door of the cabin. Uncle T, Lamar, and Franklin joined him inside. I considered going in too, until I laid eyes on the worn, makeshift swing. The wooden plank seat had dangled by a rope beside the cabin, abandoned and swaying in the breeze.

Childhood memories came rushing back to me. Dad used to take me to the park all the time, just to push me on the swing. I missed those days. Life was easier back then, carefree and simple.

I trudged over to the swing and sat on the aged wood. The ropes were rough and tattered, but I didn't mind. It was surprisingly peaceful here, a woodland sanctuary of vibrant daisies and emerald green grass. There was no one around to hurt me. I was safe. Free.

A wall of warm, rippling muscle pressed against my back, a strong, calloused hand clasped my shoulder.

"Wassup, girl?" Franklin tucked one of the daisies I gave him gently behind my ear. He tugged on the rope, testing its strength. "Want me to push you?"

Bouncing in my seat, I beamed at my boyfriend. "Yes! Push me!"

Franklin grinned, amused by my excitement, he gave me a tentative nudge. I kicked my feet up, cackling as I swung through the air, a tingling sensation warmed my heart. He pushed me and pushed me, gently, wind ruffled my hair and cooled my skin. The simple activity was just as fun as I remembered it to be. Who needed a phone, or a computer to have fun? Some rope, a board, and an awesome boyfriend was enough to keep me satisfied.

I spotted Dad from the corner of my eyes. A duffel bag hanging loosely from his shoulder, he stalked toward us with his usual purposeful stride. Our fun ended abruptly as Franklin gripped tightly to the rope, stopping my motion. He turned to face my father, feigning a smile. "What's good, Mike?"

"We got the guns," Dad said. "It's time to go. F, you're with me. Tracey, you're gonna stay here for a while. I made some calls, Dave's got some FIB guys heading here now to protect you. Everything's gonna be okay."

My stomach dropped, I gazed at Franklin helplessly. "B-but I don't want to be alone, Dad—"

"The FIB will be here any moment now. They're professionals, Trace. They'll keep you safe." Dad hugged me tight. "Daddy's gotta go take care of business, alright? You'll be fine. No one's gonna bother you out here but squirrels." He pulled away and glanced at Franklin. "C'mon, F. We got a drug lord to kill."

Franklin sighed and gave my shoulder a gentle squeeze. "I'll be back before you know it," he said.

The men turned away, my heart sinking lower and lower into my chest. I grimaced, tears choked my throat, burning as they threatened to spill over. The urge to break down grew stronger and stronger with every step Franklin took to distance himself from me. There was an ache in my chest, a rush of pain welled inside me. My heartbeat came to a slow, and the world melted away. All I could see was my love walking away from me, leaving me behind to fend for myself, our forever fading away into absolute nothingness.

I had an inexplicable feeling in my chest, like a sixth sense, that if he left me now… I'd never see him again.

No! I need him!

My toes curled, my body thrummed with energy, begging me to go after him.

So I did.

I ran like the wind, bolting through the grass. He whirled around to face me, and I leapt into his arms, clinging to him as if he were my lifeline. I sobbed hysterically against his broad chest, my inhibitions stripping away with every teardrop. "D-don't leave me," I stammered tearfully, my desperate blubbering split the calm, serene forest. "Please, I-I can't… I c-can't…" My voice faded to pitiful, incoherent croaks.

Franklin stumbled, his thick brows raised. He stood there, frozen and conflicted, his lips pressed into a fine line. "Trace," he swallowed hard, his gaze shifting between Dad and I. "I don't wanna leave yo' ass either, but…"

"Tracey, baby," Dad said softly, his eyes laced with concern. "Maybe some distance between you and Frank is for the best. It'll give you time to think about what you really want. The life me and F lead, it's dangerous. We're on the FIB's most wanted list for Christ's sake." Dad sighed. "I'm just gonna put it bluntly—Frank ain't the right guy for you. You'll never have the normal life you deserve with him, alright? The strippers, the gangbanging… I know it's hard to hear, but I'm telling you, he's no good for you. He's like a son to me, I love 'em to death but—"

"Really feelin' the love right now, pops," Franklin muttered.

"I want a better life for you, sweetie," Dad continued. "Better than I gave your mother. There's plenty of fish in the sea, you'll find someone new in no time."

Dad couldn't comprehend how much I needed my boyfriend. He didn't understand how much he meant to me, because he didn't care to. He refused to accept our relationship. Trying to talk to him was pointless, he was so stubborn, nothing could get through his thick head.

If words weren't going to work, I had to improvise. My crying intensified, growing louder and unhinged.

Lamar marched out of the cabin with Uncle T at his heels. "My boy Frank is perfect for the white girl!" Lamar shouted. "Why you hatin', dog?"

"Mind your damn business, asshat," Dad snapped. "This is my daughter—"

"Give the kids some slack, Michael!" Uncle T shouted, barreling down the steps of the cabin, storming toward us. "So what if they wanna be together? Who cares, eh? Let them live their lives, damn it." He laid a hand on Dad's shoulder, his voice softened. "Don't you remember what it was like to be young and in love? You were head over heels for a fucking prostitute—a cheap, ugly one at that—and no one could tell you otherwise."

Franklin blinked. "For real? Amanda was a prostitute?"

"No, she wasn't, Frank," Dad scoffed.

"Yes, she was, Frank," Uncle T argued. "She was the biggest whore in the Midwest, Michael. And you fucking know it—"

"Okay, fine! Maybe my wife was a whore, but she did what she had to do to survive. Unlike you," Dad stabbed a finger at Uncle T. "You murder, you lie, you steal, not because you have to—you're just insane!"

"You calling me a 'liar'?" Uncle T laughed, ugly and bitter. "You have some fucking nerve. I rather be a sinner than a hypocrite!"

"Oh, here we go again with this same bullshit," Dad threw his hands in the air, and paced through the grass, fists clenched. "I lied, so what? Cry me a river, T. Get the fuck over it already."

"Forgive and forget, homie," Lamar added. "That's what best friends do."

"Forgive and forget?" Uncle T glowered. "No! Resent and remember! Best friends don't stab each other in the back. Best friends don't lie to one another."

"Crazy Dude got a point," Lamar said. "Me and Frank—"

"I don't give a shit about you and Frank," Dad snapped, glaring at Lamar. "Why the fuck are you even here, anyway?"

"Don't talk to my boy Long Dick like that," Uncle T retorted. "He's my friend, a real friend. He's everything you aren't—"

"Ay!" Franklin blurted. "Would y'all two shut the fuck up? All this motherfuckin' arguing, just for y'all to be best fuckin' friends a second later—it's bullshit." My boyfriend glanced at Uncle T. "Sure, Michael faked his death, had Brad buried in his place, and then ran away to Los Santos. That was some treacherous shit, but what about North Yankton? All the memories y'all made together? Did you forget 'bout all that shit? Just 'cause your homie did a few things wrong, you gonna forget 'bout everythin' he did right? Man, give Mike a break. We all human, ain't we?"

Uncle T sighed. "If it weren't for the shit we've been through in North Yankton, I woulda put a bullet in Michael's skull a long, long time ago. But we got memories. We've been through hell together—we jumped into the flames with our cocks out, fucked the devil and his wife, and somehow, we came out the other side still breathing, dick and balls still attached."

"That analogy sounds all kinds of wrong, dog," Lamar said.

"Agreed," Dad muttered.

"Look, y'all need to get over yourselves," Franklin said, his gaze shifting between Uncle T and Dad. "The past is the past, and ain't shit finna change it. Stop dwellin' on old ass bullshit and think about the here and now. That's the only shit that matters. And right now, Tracey needs us."

Dad gazed at me and frowned. "We shouldn't make this about us, T."

Uncle T nodded. "Finally, something we can agree on, Mikey."

Franklin stroked his fingers through my unkempt hair, his gentle touch soothed me, my panic-stricken sobs quieted down to sniffles. "Michael, I'ma be straight up with you, dog…" He looked my father directly in the eye. "I'm really feelin' your daughter. Our relationship ain't easy, we argue a lot, we fight over stupid bullshit. And it's all on me. I know I'm fucked up, but every day we spend together, little by little, she makes me into a better man, you feel me? I ain't tryna gangbang no more, I don't need no damn strip clubs, just…" He sighed. "Just give me a chance, Mike. I'll spend the rest of my life workin' to be the man she deserves if I got to."

"Tell me the truth, Frank," Dad said, his expression stony. "You in love with my daughter?"

Franklin gazed into my wide, bleary eyes, a soft smile tugged at his full lips. "I love her," he declared. "This shit we got goin' on—it's real."

My heart swelled. I grinned, my cheeks hurting from the big, goofy smile pulling at my mouth. Wow. I couldn't believe it! He said he loved me, in front of my dad! Bouncing on the tip of my toes, I leapt into his arms, my legs wrapped around his waist. He held me in his great, strong embrace, and planted a big kiss on my cheek. I flushed as Lamar clapped his hands together, applauding us. Usually I'd shy away from this kind of affection, especially with my dad watching, but right now, all I cared about was my boyfriend. Nothing else mattered.

Franklin's luminous, golden brown gaze found mine, his natural, flawless brown skin glowing beneath the sunlight. I marveled at his beauty, my fingers skimmed across wide, powerful jawline, his rugged beard ticklish beneath my skin. How did I get so lucky? He was gorgeous. Perfect.

A deep, satisfying sigh slipped through Uncle T's lips. "If that ain't love, Mikey, I don't know what is."

Dad stared at Franklin and I as we held one another tight, refusing to let go. The downcast expression on his weathered face brightened, rising into a smile. He took a step forward and laid a hand on Franklin's shoulder. "You know what? Why don't you stay behind with Tracey, kid? I think she needs you a lot more than we do."

Tears brimming my eyes, I exhaled. Finally, we had my father's blessing.

Franklin glanced at Dad. "You sure y'all can handle shit without me?"

"Of course, we can." Uncle T threw an arm around Lamar's shoulder. "Long Dick would be glad to help us out instead, won't he?"

Lamar nodded. "Shit, yeah, I'll cover for my boy, no problem. I wanna see Madrazo buried six feet under just as much as the next nigga anyway."

"Good lookin' out, dog," Franklin set me down, and gave Lamar a pound. "Try not to fuck shit up like you always do, a'ight?"

"Don't even trip," Lamar replied. "I got this."

"He'll be fine as long as he follows our lead," Dad said, turning away. "Lamar, I'll fill you in on the plan while we're on the road to LS. Let's move."

"See you around, kiddos," Uncle T waved at us. "Try not to have too much fun—"

"Wait!" I threw my arm around him and squeezed. "Please don't die. Watch after Dad for me, okay?"

"Don't you worry, I'll be watching that fat snake like a hawk," he said, returning the hug. "Enjoy your romantic getaway with Frank, alright? You both deserve it."

Uncle T jogged after Dad, but Lamar's feet remained rooted in the grass. He said, "Looks like a nigga finally made the cut for the white-collar crime mentorship program, huh?"

"Looks like it," Franklin feigned a smile. "But take this shit seriously, homie. You ain't dealin' with no bitch ass Ballas no more. Madrazo's crew is on a whole 'nother level—"

"Frank, man," Lamar scoffed. "When you finna realize that we two different types of niggas? While cats like you be indoors, hiding and shit—like bitches—dogs like me be out in the wild, huntin' motherfuckers, you feel me? Dogs gotta eat, you know what I'm sayin'? You ain't nothin' but a Kibbles n' Bits ass nigga."

"You a lost fuckin' cause, LD," Franklin shook his head.

I frowned. It was great that Lamar was confident, but underestimating Madrazo was a deadly mistake. Hopefully his ego doesn't get him killed. He still had so much to live for, including fixing things between him and Franklin's aunt. I glanced at the number etched across my cast. "Lamar," I said, grabbing his attention. "Take down this number before you go, it's Denise's."

"What?" he blinked, gazing at my cast. "This my baby's new number? How'd you get it?"

"It doesn't matter how I got it, just take it. I know you miss her. I don't know what happened between you two, but you deserve a second chance. Call her, please, whenever you can. Make it work, I want you to be happy."

"You know, you ain't so bad, White Girl," Lamar smiled. "Frank chose the right one."

A silver of moonlight spilled through the cabin windows, shedding just enough light to navigate around the rustic sofa and crude wooden table without stumbling all over the place. Wrapped snugly in a flowery quilt on the couch, I waited patiently for Franklin to start a fire. Although the wilderness made him uncomfortable, he adapted to his surroundings quicker than I expected. He braved the cold night and managed to scavenge dry wood for the fireplace all on his own. Using a gas lighter, he set the timber ablaze.

We sat comfy by the warming, crackling glow, our features illuminated by the flickering light. The smell of pine filled the air as it burned, smoke ebbed into the chimney.

I glanced at the duffel bag on the table. Dad left behind a crapload of nonperishable food, guns, and various supplies needed for survival out in the wild. We were well stocked, but our provisions wouldn't last forever. We could probably last a week or two, three at most if we're conservative. Hopefully we weren't forced to stay here long.

As of right now, though, everything was perfect. I was warm, comfortable, and most importantly, safe from bad guys. At least for now.

"You know, the forest ain't so bad after all," Franklin said. "It's dark as shit, we ain't got no electricity or running water, there's bugs everywhere, but besides that, it's cool."

"Yeah," I nodded. "It's really quiet here compared to the city, isn't it?"

"Too quiet…" He muttered, his gaze scanned the shadowy corners of the cabin. He seemed to be on edge, muscles tensed, and constantly fidgeting at every sound, just like this morning. Maybe he wasn't adapting to the environment as well as I thought. It wasn't his fault after all, living in the heart of the forest was brand new to him—the unfamiliar territory was the opposite of the city he was so well accustomed to.

I was sure he would rather be off fighting Madrazo right now. Instead, he chose to stay here, cooped up in this cabin with me. The least I could do was try to make him feel comfortable.

I threw my quilt around his broad shoulders and snuggled close to him. "Frank, no one's going to bother us out here. We're completely isolated from the rest of the world. We're safe now, don't worry."

"What makes you so sure?" Franklin asked. "Considerin' our luck lately, I wouldn't be surprised if motherfuckers roll up on us right now—"

"Shhh," I pressed my finger to his full lips. "Can you at least try to relax? For me?"

He smiled, his arms enveloped me in a warm, luxurious hug. Our breathing in unison, and thighs snuggling, the tension in his muscles gradually loosened. Chest to chest, his rugged cheek nuzzled mine. I broke out in giggles from the sweet gesture, my fingers stroking through his curly, neatly trimmed fade. I took in a deep breath, basking in the swoon-worthy scent of pine needles and tobacco rising from his skin. My head lolled on his shoulder, my eyes drooping closed. Crap, I was tired.

I lingered in his strong embrace for quite some time, melting into him like butter, like it was exactly where I belonged. I drifted off to sleep multiple times, but it was hard for me to fall into a deep slumber on a sofa, fully clothed, with a neck brace at that. Removing the brace was easy enough, and I thought unbuttoning my jean shorts would be as well, but it was actually a pain to accomplish with only one hand.

"Frank," I murmured. "Can you help me?"

Eyes heavy, Franklin yawned, a deep sigh resonated in his chest. "What you need, baby?"

"My shorts won't come off."

"I got you." Although his hands were far too big to unfasten a tiny clasp, he attempted to do so anyhow. Swallowing deeply, he fumbled with the small closure and zipper. "Fuck," he cursed, his focus fully immersed in the simple task. "This shit is harder than it looks."

It was ironic, really. Franklin was clever, and good at so many things—fighting bad guys, driving fast cars, mediating heated arguments—but unbuckling some pants? Now that was a real challenge for him. I slapped a palm over my mouth, stifling my laughter. He sighed, his hands shaking, a rosy blush staining his cheeks.

"You enjoyin' this shit, ain't you?" he asked.

"Kinda," I admitted. "I finally found something you suck at."

"Nah, this game is rigged, and you know it." He leaned close, his gaze grew intense, eyes smoldering. "Is there some kind of reward waitin' for me if I get these off?"

"Y-yeah…" I stammered, my stomach fluttering. "You'll get an A for effort."

"For real? I deserve an A plus and a gold star for all this shit."

"This is a C performance at best. I'm already being super generous to consider giving you an A, but a gold star too? That's pushing it."

"A'ight. I'll take what I can get." Finally, he unclasped the tiny button, and unzipped my shorts. "There we go," he smirked, seemingly satisfied with himself.

"Took you long enough," I teased, sprawling out on the couch.

"Sure, no need to thank me or anythin'. I live to serve yo' little ass, apparently."

"You do, at least for now, until my broken bones heal." I dropped my feet in his lap. "Massage please?" Franklin glanced at my toes and wrinkled his nose in protest. "What?" I frowned. "You don't like my feet?"

"Nah, I like them. They're all small and shit. I ain't got a fetish for feet, or nothin' like that, but yours are cute, girl."

"So, what's wrong then?"

Franklin clasped my foot, stroking me firmly, adding just enough pressure not to cause discomfort. He paid the most attention to my toes, pinching and tugging at them gently, loosening the stiffness in my joints. "Nothin' is wrong, it's just, uh…" He grew silent, fumbling for the right words. "I'm not used to this kind of shit. That's all."

"What do you mean?"

"Like, the cuddling, the emotions, the sentimental shit—the typical shit you should do in a relationship—it doesn't come natural to me, you feel me? Romance ain't my strong suit. Never has been. The sappy shit makes me uncomfortable."

I shrugged. "You seem like quite the romantic to me."

"Nah," he shook his head. "You ain't gotta lie to me, girl. I know I'm not. The only thing I'm good at is arguin' over bullshit, and fightin' motherfuckers."

"Hey," I frowned. "You know that's not true. Yeah, you're great at fighting, you're an amazing protector, but you're so much more than that. At least to me."

He smiled sweetly, revealing his pearly white teeth. "There's somethin' 'bout you, Trace. It brings out the good in me."

I wanted to throw my arms around him, to tell him how much I was in love with him, and how proud I was that he stood up to my father, but something was holding me back. Despite everything we've been through, there was doubts lingering in the back of his mind. There weren't any signs of it now, but he's voiced his uncertainty regarding our relationship plenty of times. It was time we cleared the air and discussed it as adults.

"Can we talk about what you said at the hotel last night?" I asked.

"Yeah, hit me," Franklin muttered, grasping my other foot for a soothing massage. "I'm guessin' I said some shit I shouldn't have, huh?"

I frowned, my heart flopped over in my chest from the unpleasant memories. "You said we weren't going to work out anyway, that I was too delusional to see it. Did you really mean that?"

Franklin sighed heavily. I waited patiently for a response, but he remained quiet, a deep grimace distorted his handsome, well-defined face. His silence was worrying. What was thinking? Was he brooding again? I sat up pretzel style, reluctantly shifting my feet from his grasp, and stared into his eyes. They were shiny and glistening, the amber hues dazzling like stars in the night. He didn't have to say a word, I could tell he was troubled, head bowed, and shoulders drooped.

Franklin had come a long way compared to when we first met. He used to be cold, and distant. He used to be a hardened, bitter old soul tugging around a broken heart. But he's grown a lot since then. There were no more walls to break down, no more layers to pry through. Finally, he was stripped clean, his true emotions laid bare before me.

Now if only I could get him to talk to me. The silence was deafening.

"Say something," I murmured. "Be honest with me."

"My bad," Franklin said. "I had a lot of shit on my mind that night. I was happy I had you, girl, but scared too, of your pops findin' out. And the thought of him made me angry, 'cause he blames me for shit that's outta my control. I had a lot of guilt weighin' on me too, and…" He scrubbed a hand over his face. "That night was a clusterfuck of conflictin' emotions. I tried to bury it, but then yo' crazy ass slapped me, and I-I just… I exploded."

"It wouldn't be the first time you exploded on me," I feigned a smile. "And knowing you, it probably won't be the last."

"I know I ain't easy to deal with. I push you away, I make our relationship more complicated than it needs to be, 'cause I'm hardwired that way. Last time I got attached to somebody, I got blindsided. The relationship ended abruptly—the bitch broke up with me through a fuckin' email. I ain't tryna have some petty shit like that happen again. But I don't wanna be someone who walks away so easily either."

"You have trust issues, I get it. But I'm not like her. I wouldn't do that to you. Not in a million years."

"Yeah? You sure 'bout that?" he asked with a smirk, teasing me.

"Positive." I crawled into his lap, my thighs straddled him. "I can see us getting married one day, you know?"

He gaped at me, caught off guard by my confession. "What? For real? You wanna deal with my bad attitude and temper tantrums for the rest of your life?"

"Totally. I can see us moving in together, annoying one another, having arguments and making up after—"

"What about them biracial babies? Does that happen before, or after we move in together?"

"We're gonna make babies before, and after we move in together. I want a bunch of them, like five or six, maybe ten if we're lucky."

Franklin snorted. "Ten kids my ass. We can barely take care of our damn selves, girl."

"That's because Madrazo is still in the picture. But once he's gone, we can do anything. We can have all the sex we want, and I can pop out babies like a factory."

"I ain't too sure how I feel 'bout that statement—"

"You should be flattered," I said, my voice flat. "I wouldn't make babies with just anyone. I had options, but I chose to be with you."

"I am flattered, Trace." He cupped my chin, and our eyes met. "Even though our lives are fucked up right now, I'm happy how things turned out. I'm glad I'm with you. I wouldn't change it for the world, baby."

I grinned wide, showering my boyfriend's strong, manly face with kisses. He beamed, happily enduring the trail of frenzied smooches I pressed to his skin, his throaty laughter filling the cabin. He laid a palm on my thigh, and I froze, my breath hitched. His touch was warm and tender, his grip confident and steady.

"I missed you," Franklin mumbled, threading his fingers through my hair. "While you were gone, in that coma—nothin' was the same. Felt like a piece of my life was missin'. It was… scary."

Heat rose to my cheeks. "I'm sorry, Frank. But I'm here now. I'm not going anywhere. You don't have to be afraid anymore."

He clasped my hips, leaning close, his broad chest pressed to mine, and warm breath on my lips. My heartbeat quickened. Our eyes locked, the red, fluttering light of the flames enhancing his hazel gaze. His lips brushed over my cheek, making a slow, hot trail down my jawline to my neck. My back arched in anticipation. I wanted more, but it was clear he was going to take his time with me, his touch unhurried and deliberate.

Franklin's moderate advances wasn't much of a surprise. He wasn't known to be the impulsive type. He took things slow, carefully weighing his options before any decisions were made. Assuming his anger didn't get in the way, rushing into things wasn't his style. It was only natural for his attentive demeanor to persist in the bedroom too.

My head swam. I tried to keep my composure, but the delicate brush of his full lips over my neck sent me sprawling into a lust-induced daze. My rational thoughts were whisked away by a severe, aching desire below my stomach. I wanted him closer—to taste his lips against mine, to feel him inside me—I could imagine it all so clearly. But he was making me wait for it, and I could hardly stand it.

It was time to take initiative. I clutched his chin, tilted his head, and finally, our lips met. The world melted away. The space between us ignited, hot and passionate, my heart skipping beats, and my fingertips running through his short, curled strands. Despite how desperately I clung to him, I couldn't seem to bring him close enough to me, the caress of his soft lips tantalizingly addictive. I tasted him, our heavy breath mingling and merging as one, our mouths moving in perfect synergy.

Franklin's touch set off a match inside me, a deep heat spread throughout my core. I've been kissed before, but it didn't burn me alive. It didn't leave me yearning for more. His calloused hands, always so soothing and gentle, had a seemingly magical hold on me. One touch, and I was breathless, bending to his will, craving for affection.

I've been searching for this all my life. I've been starving for love, and now, I finally found it.

The kiss deepened, I nibbled at his lower lip, my tongue swirled over his. I clawed my fingers down his chest, feeling the hardness of his firm, stalwart muscles. His breathing had become erratic, the bulge between his legs stiffening. Skimming a finger along his sculpted abdomen through his shirt, my mind began to wonder…

How did he look completely naked?

Gorgeous, I figured. From what I've seen, Franklin was a picture-perfect depiction of a man. Tall and dark, beautifully built muscles, a great butt—in joggers. I hadn't caught a good look of my boyfriend's unclothed booty yet. I tugged at his shirt, helping him out of it, so I could get a good view of his chiseled abdomen.

"You have an amazing body," I gushed. "How did you—"

He gripped my hips, and grinded on me, rubbing his hard cock against me through the confides of his pants. I gasped, the suddenness of his movement just as surprising as it was erotic. He slid a finger below the edge of my panties, touching the dampness underneath, a confident smirk forming on his face.

"Shit, I hardly touched you yet, girl," he said, "and you already wet for me?"

My cheeks heated. "Shut up."

He was hot and flustered, his sweaty, rich brown skin glistening with the primal need to mate. However, sensing my embarrassment, he buried the desire, if only for a moment, his arms wrapped around me in a tight, playful hug. "Mmm, mmm," he hummed, like he was singing a song, his voice carried a light tune. "My baby, my lady, is so damn cute—"

"Oh my god," I snickered. "Please stop singing."

"You don't like my song, babe?" He snorted. "It's cool, I made that shit up on the fly. Want me to spit some bars instead?"

"Not really. What about your mixtape? Some hot fire would totally set the mood right now."

"For real? Why every black dude gotta have a mixtape?"

"Well, you said you could spit bars. That takes practice, doesn't it? You never thought about being a rapper? Like, at all?"

"Nah," his jaw clenched. "Before hustlin' and gangbangin' got in the way, I wanted to shoot hoops for a livin'."

I grinned mischievously. "So, you don't have a mixtape, then?"

"Sure, I do," he slipped a finger inside me, his rigid expression cracked as I desperately clenched around him. I reached for his joggers, dipping a hand inside. He fell heavily into my palm, hard as granite, and throbbing. I squeezed him, sizing his thick length with my hand, gradual and rough just how he liked it. A groan spilled from his lips, slightly pained, yet sensual.

His hand curled around mine, guiding my strokes. "Fuck…" He murmured, quivering beneath me.

I wanted to focus all my attention on pleasing him, but my insides were empty, and aching to be filled. I clutched his shoulder for support, and shifted onto my knees, hovering over the blunt tip of his cock.

Franklin gripped my waist, halting my movement. "Ay, slow down, babe. We ain't got no condoms. M-maybe we should stick to foreplay and shit—"

"Frank," I whimpered breathlessly, gazing at him with frantic longing. "I need this—I need you." He tensed as he listened to my desperate pleading. "Please, can't we do this without it? Just this one time?"

"Uh…" He hesitated, his brows furrowed. "Tracey…"

"Just once," I begged. "Pretty please? I'll love you forever!"

"All I gotta do is fuck you without rubber and you'll love me forever?" Franklin cackled, silly and unrestrained. "Shit, why you ain't tell me that sooner?"

My face flaming red, I rolled my eyes. "Take me seriously, jerk. I'm pouring my heart out to you and you don't even care—"

Franklin's hand fisted my panties, and with a firm yank, he tore them off. As he tossed my ripped underwear aside, I shivered, the sudden, violent action was undeniably barbaric, but extremely sexy. His power and raw masculinity had no bounds, and I loved it.

He rose his hips to push his pants down farther, his erection brushing against my thighs. "Take it slow," he ordered, leaning back against the sofa.

Trembling with anticipation, I captured his shaft. He winced as I positioned him between my legs, his face flushed red. I sunk down on him, carefully, my skin sweaty and tingling. I had grown more accustomed to his size in comparison to before, lessening the agony. But that didn't change the fact that I was petite. And he was like a giant. The initial discomfort of being penetrated by him still hurt like hell. I flinched, burying my face in the crook of his neck, hiding my pained expression.

"You good, baby?" he asked, rubbing my back in a delicate attempt to soothe me.

I kept my mouth shut and focused on enduring the pain. Franklin grew unnaturally still, mindful not to add any unnecessary pressure while I adjusted to his girth. The hurt gradually faded, bordering on pleasure, and sweet, exquisite pain. I lowered myself onto him until he was fully sheathed inside me. I let out a wrenching cry, he was so deep, his dick raw and pulsating, I wasn't sure if I could handle it. Not that my body gave a crap. It was clenching around him, gripping and squeezing, quivering on the brink of an orgasm.

"Oh my god," I muttered, feeling stretched and stuffed past the point of endurance. "You're so big."

His palm smoothing over my lower stomach, he stroked my clit in firm, skilled circles. A moan seeped through my lips, my hot core tightened, sucking him deeper. It felt so good. I gaped at him through heavy lidded eyes. He was half shadow in the flame illuminated room, his strong body slouched beautifully on the sofa, gazing up at me.

"Damn, you feel good," he whispered, his hips motionless and chest heaving as he patiently waited for me to ride him.

I rose, sliding up his length, the satiny smooth glide and friction of our bodies sent a jolt of lust through me. Craving his lips, I pressed my mouth to his, our tongues entwined. I kissed him as I surged my hips, riding the amazing circling of his finger, and his incredibly thick, throbbing cock.

My carnal desire took over, and soon, I was completely in charge. Franklin quaked, groaning against the seam of my lips, sweat dotting his forehead. The scent of our raging passion was heavy in the air. I was losing my mind, the savage need to ride him until he was milked dry was exhilarating, energizing me.

I arched my back, taking him in to the root. At this angle, his blunt crown hit the back of me, in one particularly tender spot. The rhythmic motion was overwhelming, the consistent, arousing rotation of his fingertip over my clit had sent me spiraling toward a release.

"F-Frank," I murmured, my voice cracked, fisting his short, sweat-damp hair.

Franklin captured my neck as I came, spasms of pleasure radiating through my core. My entire body trembled violently. Although I was emerged in pure, blissful ecstasy, sobbing his name repeatedly, I couldn't bear to look away from him. My gaze was fixed on his hard, beautifully sculpted muscles. Unblinking, he watched me writhe on top of him, shuddering and climaxing harder than I ever did before.

"Oh, fuck," he panted, his voice husky, and eyes half-lidded with pleasure. He slammed his hips up into me, over and over, and I rolled my hips to meet his bruising thrusts the best I could. I was drained, my body floating on the ragged edge of sensation.

He was growing harder and thicker inside me, his head tipped back, and eyes filled with need. "Ah—fuck, right there, baby," he growled. "Shit…" I watched him unravel before me, losing control to his innate desire, his teeth clenched, and handsome face razed by the severe urgency to climax.

He came with a deep, animalistic grunt, the erotic sound rising from the pit of his throat through clenched teeth. He shook fiercely as an orgasm tore through his body, emptying himself inside me. For a short, fleeting moment, his features softened with a flash of sudden vulnerability.

I slumped against his toned, sweaty body, breathless and dazed, an explosion of endorphins sweeping through me. Franklin held me in a loose embrace, his breathing heavy. There was a glint of tenderness in his eyes, gratitude even, as he stared up at me. I smiled, my body limp and aching in all the right places. I never felt so relaxed—

Blrrrrrt!

I cringed, my cheeks burning as I let the loudest fart ever rip through the air, in front of my boyfriend. Instead of disowning me for the gross slob that I was, he burst out laughing instead, and I wasn't sure which was worse. My life was over. If a dark hole could open and swallow me right now, that'd be great.

Franklin's grinning was so cute and contagious though, I found myself snickering along with him, despite my crippling embarrassment.

"Damn, girl," he snorted. "The fuck you been eatin'?"

"Um, l-lots of ice cream," I mumbled, lifting myself off him. He slid out of me, wet and throbbing, barely softening. He could probably go for a round two…

"It's all good. A little gas ain't never hurt nobody—"

The thud of heavy boots echoed from outside the cabin, followed by a stern knock on the wooden door. Heart pounding against my chest, I scrambled back into Franklin's arms, clinging to him.

There's someone outside! But who? Could it be Dad and the others? They couldn't have taken out Madrazo that fast… right?

Woot, another chapter down :D. Soo I hope you guys are enjoying the fluff ;). Leave a review if you are, lemme know what you like and don't like, it just MIGHT influence the direction of the story in regards to whether I add more fluffy, sexy stuff. This is a romance story after all, but I love adventurous plot lines too. What do you guys prefer? Are you liking the story so far? What do you think about the writing? Please let me know what you think! Thank you so much for reading.