Note: Thank you to those who were so kind as to leave reviews on the last chapter: TinDog, Caranath, EvergreenDreamweaver, Drumboy100, Paulina Ann, BMSH, and max2013.

Consequences

Chapter 21

Frank eyed his surroundings with disgust. He had regained consciousness a short while ago and found himself tied to a chair, bound hand and foot, and he finally admitted to himself that it had been stupid to try and track down Nash alone. But the anger, the hatred, and the rage had been so overwhelming last night…he couldn't wait. He didn't want to ask his brother for help. Joe had almost died in the last confrontation with Nash. Frank was not about to put his brother in the line of fire again.

'Maybe I should have asked Dad,' Frank thought, contemplating how he could escape. 'Nah, he would've had a fit. I promised him I'd let the police take care of Nash.'

The sound of the door opening brought all thoughts of escape to a grinding halt as he came face to face with the man he had grown to despise.

'If only looks really could kill,' Frank thought with utter contempt.

"Hello, Frank." Nash smiled at him, pulling up a chair as if he were about to catch up with an old friend he hadn't seen in a long time. "I must say I was a little surprised by your visit. But also flattered. Now tell me, why are you here?"

Frank bit back a reply, knowing how utterly ridiculous he would sound as he was the one currently at the mercy of Nash.

"So, tell me, how's your little brother?" He smiled evilly, thoroughly enjoying the look of rage on Frank's face.

"Ah, you still haven't forgiven me for that little prank, have you? Now, really how is Joe? Any lingering effects from his ordeal?" Nash questioned him hopefully. "No? That's too bad. He should be dead you know. He's got a lot of spunk, I'll give him that. At least now, I know the next time I try that, I need to drag the body a little longer. You know, just to make sure they're dead." He leaned towards Frank, conspiratorially, as if sharing a joke.

"Hmmm, what else can we talk about? What else do we have in common?" Nash sat back, crossing one leg over his knee, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "Ah! Your pretty fiancée. Is she still your fiancée? Or has she finally dumped you for your brother?"

"Don't you DARE talk about her, you son of a bitch!" Frank exploded, Nash having finally pushed the right button.

"Why are you angry with me?" Nash asked, shocked. "I mean the fact that your brother was sleeping around with your fiancée wasn't my fault. I just exposed them. You should be thanking me for that."

"Liar!" Frank hissed at him. "They NEVER slept together!"

"And you know this how?" Nash asked, amused.

Frank stared at him, his blood boiling as the rage churned inside him. Rage at himself and Nash. A rage so strong, Frank could feel himself shaking.

Nash chuckled watching him. "You watched the video, didn't you?" He leaned forward, grinning widely. "They were good, huh? I told them if they went into porn videos they could make a fortune."

"But didn't you tell them you wouldn't even watch that video?" he pondered. "Yet you did. Because no matter what your heart wanted to believe, you really thought they were screwing around didn't you? Tsk, tsk, tsk. I'm so disappointed in you, Frank. They trusted you, they believed in you. And you…"

"SHUT UP!" Frank screamed so loud it felt as if his head would explode. "They never slept together! They wouldn't do that to me!" He could feel the veins on his neck throbbing with the effort, as he felt himself losing control, going over the edge.

Guilt and shame flooded over him and he desperately fought back tears, having to admit Nash was right. He had believed. For months, Frank had believed Joe and Callie had betrayed him, were still betraying him, and he wasn't sure that even when this was all over, if he would ever be able to live with himself. He knew he would never forgive himself – ever.

Nash sat back watching Frank go off the deep end, actually feeling let down that it didn't really take much to push him there.

"You almost killed my brother!" Frank yelled. "You DID kill my unborn child!"

"What?" Nash asked, genuinely surprised. "She was pregnant?" Nash sat back and digested this information, a small smile playing at his lips. "Are you sure it was yours and not your brother's?"

Finally losing all semblance of control, Frank bellowed incoherently. Nash's smile grew even wider feeding the rage that had completely consumed Frank. Struggling against his bonds in vain, Frank spewed curses at Nash, who appeared to be enjoying himself immensely. Sitting back, Nash let Frank rant and rave until he was utterly exhausted. Watching Frank glare at him, panting for breath, his forehead glistening with sweat, Nash pursed his lips in thought.

"I don't know, Frank. I think you should be turning this anger on yourself not me. You're the one who believed a total stranger over your own brother. Over the woman you supposedly loved."

Frank's heart caught in his throat and he felt nauseated, listening to Nash as if he'd been privy to Frank's every thought for the past four months.

"You thought they slept together. You didn't believe them when they told you nothing was going on. When they told you nothing happened. When they told you the video was a fake. I bet you even had doubts that baby was really yours, didn't you?" Nash shook his head in disgust. "You're a pretty miserable excuse for a brother and a fiancé, you know that? You've known your brother his whole life, and still you believed me – ME, a common criminal! – over him."

No matter how hard he tried, Frank couldn't stop the tears this time. Nash was right. How could Joe have possibly forgiven him? What he had done was unforgivable.

"And Callie. Poor thing. I bet you called her all kinds of nasty names, didn't you?" Nash said, watching Frank closely and seeing the confirmation in his guilt-ridden brown eyes. "Whore? Slut? Those are usually the favorites. It must have hurt her terribly. Broke her heart. The man she loved, the man she wanted to marry, the man whose child she was carrying, accusing her of sleeping around. With his own brother no less. So tell me Frank, has she forgiven you?"

Getting up, Nash looked around as if he were being watched. "As a matter of fact…has your brother forgiven you? I don't see him anywhere and the two of you are usually a package deal."

Breathing heavily, Frank glared at Nash, refusing to give him the satisfaction of knowing everything he said was true.

"Oh, wait! You came here to avenge them!" Nash stared at him for a moment, then laughed uproariously. "You thought you could come here, take me down, and be the hero. And everything would be forgiven." Still chuckling, Nash wiped at his eyes.

"If you remember, your brother tried to play hero too," Nash reminded Frank. "Seems to run in the family." Standing up, Nash eyed Frank carefully, shaking his head. "I had to teach him a lesson and it looks like it's your turn now."

Frank's heart tightened in his chest, as visions of Joe lying on the basement floor - beaten, bloody and near death – flashed through his mind. It was a miracle Joe even survived and, four months later, he still wasn't really recovered yet. In fact, his memory still hadn't returned, only bits and pieces. As memories of Joe's painfully slow recovery played themselves out, Frank realized he was in serious trouble.

Warily he watched as Nash moved to a small closet and opened the door. Rummaging around inside, muttering to himself, Nash finally straightened up, scrutinizing the plastic bottle in his hand.

"This should do nicely," he said out loud, turning back to Frank. "You know, I would have thought your brother might have warned you not to cross me. It tends to make me angry. And then I feel the need to retaliate."

As he spoke, Nash had slowly crossed the room and was now standing in front of Frank.

"I'm sure you must be thirsty after all that yelling." Nash said unscrewing the cap on the bottle.

As soon as the cap was removed, Frank could smell the fumes of ammonia and cleaning solvent and his heart tightened.

Grabbing a handful of Frank's hair, Nash viciously pulled his head back as far as possible. Helpless and unable to fight back, Frank felt as if his neck was about to snap in two. Clamping his mouth shut, Frank tried to put off the inevitable as long as possible. Nash pulled harder, forcing Frank's mouth to open.

"Say aaahhhh," Nash laughed. As he poured the caustic liquid down Frank's throat, Frank gagged, sending droplets of the liquid fire onto his cheeks, dribbling down his neck.

Crying out in agony, Frank felt as if his mouth, throat and lungs had suddenly burst into flames. Flames that left a trail of raw, burning pain as the liquid slowly meandered on its way, burning everything in its path. The fiery fluid journeyed past his vocal chords and through his chest, ending with a blazing inferno in his stomach so agonizingly painful he prayed for deliverance.

Tossing the now empty bottle on the floor at Frank's feet, Nash patted him on the shoulder and made his way to the door. As he heard Frank gagging and gasping for air, struggling to get just a tiny bit of oxygen through his burned and rapidly swelling airway, Nash graced him with one last sadistic smile, before disappearing through the doorway.

'Callie. Joe. Please, forgive me,' Frank thought, knowing he had only a few precious moments left before his burned throat swelled shut completely, ensuring certain death. As the pain inside him continued to increase with each passing second, Frank's prayer of a moment earlier, to be delivered from this unbearable suffering, were answered. He convulsed once, twice and then finally, lay still.