Back To Reality

Franky's POV

Four Days After Release

I awoke to soft kisses on my face, wrapped in my Gidget's arms.

"Good morning, baby," she says kissing my lips.

"Morning," I respond then look down into her eyes. "Don't start no shit we can't finish."

Gidget giggles, I love seeing this side of her. Don't get me wrong, I love the professional pitbull in a skirt side, too. But seeing her laugh and giggle so much with me really speaks volumes.

"What do you mean that we can't finish?" she quizzes.

"Cos, as much as I'd love to lay here in your arms and make love to you all day. The real world is out there waiting for us, beautiful." I remind.

"Oh, yeah, you gotta see your parole officer today, right?" Gidget asks.

I nod my head. "Yep and you gotta get back to work, Spunky. Don't want you getting sacked again cos of me."

"You let me worry about that. What are you wearing to see your parole officer?"

"Shit!" I smack my forehead. I hadn't even thought about the fact that I didn't have clothes or shoes except what I left Wentworth with. "Guess I didn't have time to go shopping this weekend due to all the extracurricular activities I was entangled in."

Gidget laughs. "Yeah, I'll gladly take the blame for that."

"Will you now?" I tickle her making her laugh louder.

"Anyway, what time is your appointment?" Gidget asks between giggles.

"Eleven. Why?"

"If you leave right before the shops open. That gives you time to drop in and grab a few things," Gidget suggests.

I started thinking about everything I'd possibly need to do to appease the parole officer and stay out of Wentworth and became overwhelmed. All I could do was nod at Gidget's statement and flash a fake smile.

Bridget's POV

I've known Franky long enough to assess her mood swings. Whenever she gets all quiet and gaze off into thin air there is always a reason behind it.

"Hey, baby," I state and hold her face in my hands. "Why'd you clam up on me like that?"

Franky squints her eyes. "Did I?"

"Yeah, you got quiet. Why? What's wrong?"

Franky wraps both arms around my waist and exhales sharply. "I'm scared as fuck, Gidge. It just hit me everything I gotta do now to not go back inside. What if I can't…what if…"

I kiss Franky pausing her sentence. "Look at me," I instruct after breaking the kiss. She looks me deep into my eyes. "You are a very smart woman. You are brave, strong, and articulate. Not to mention sexy as all hell. You will kick ass at whatever you need to do and rise to the challenge," I encourage.

"You're confident about that, are you, eh?" Franky's smile livens up again.

"Absolutely, I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it. Matter of fact, how about you drive the Porsche and handle everything you need to do today."

"Nuh, Gidge, I can't…" Franky starts.

"Yeah, you can. I rented it for you, and I have it for a week. I want you to get around with no problems. And when I get off work today, I'll have something warm and wet waiting for you."

Franky raises her brows and pats my arse. "Well, how can I say no to that?"

"You can't I guess," I respond.

Franky's POV

I have to admit Gidget knows how to push my buttons yes, but she also knows how to bring me out of my funk and make me feel better. I spent another few minutes holding her and breathing in her scent, before finally releasing her so we could both get our day started.

By the time I finished showering and getting dressed in the clothes I wore when I was released. The bedroom was empty. On the bed was a note, a keypad and a single key on a separate key ring. I picked up the note and read it:

Had to head out for an early meeting. Sorry I didn't get to say bye before leaving. Anyway, I left the keys to the Porsche and an extra key to the house. If you get back before me make yourself at home. Good luck today. You got this, kid! ?

About a half hour later, I was at the mall getting some clothes, shoes and other hygiene items that I'd need. I bought formal clothes, workout clothes, chill clothes, dress shoes, everyday shoes, and workout shoes. I also bought sleep wear to get out of having to wear Gidget's fucking girlie arse colors.

I completed my purchases then went into the bathroom inside the mall and changed into the Navy-Blue khakis, black low heel dress boots, a button-down blouse and a mini suede blazer, perfect for this time of year it was Mid- June which meant winter was just getting in good. I made sure my hair was hung neatly over my shoulders.

"Francesca Doyle," I heard a female call my name.

I look up from the magazine I was reading. It was the receptionist that I'd signed in with earlier at my parole officer's office. I stood to greet her, extending my hand with a smile.

"I'm Francesca Doyle," I say.

"Follow me." She ignores my hand and is very short with her words.

She quietly escorts me to an office with a shut door. On the glass is a name that read: Harper Curry, Parole Officer.

"Come in," the voice calls from behind the door.

The slightly uptight receptionist opens the glass door. "Francesca Doyle as requested."

"Thank you, Stacie, I got it from here." Harper Curry is about forty something, probably one or two inches shorter than me, with brown hair, grey eyes and beautiful caramel skin. "Francesca, please come in and have a seat and shut the door."

I do as instructed and keep clear eye contact with her the entire time.

"So, before we begin how have you been settling since your release?" Ms. Curry asks.

My mind quickly flashes to all the things Bridget and I have done over the past few days, my heart warms and my pussy tingles. "Pretty well, honestly."

"So, I take it the accommodations we arranged before your release is up to pretty good standards?"

She's referring to the one-bedroom apartment we discussed and agreed upon during our conversation before I was released. I hadn't even seen the place yet but knew better than to tell her that.

"Yeah, it'll be better once I have it furnished to my liking, ya know," I answer.

"I do indeed. If you need assistance with that don't hesitate to ask," Curry offers, and I nod. "Now on to business. You served six years of your sentence meaning you will complete the next two years on parole. We are here today to go over the guidelines and set up coping systems if needed so that you avoid breaching parole and remain a free woman."

"I understand," I reply.

"Okay, then let's proceed. The conditions of parole are as followed," Ms. Curry says.

I sit straight up in the chair and give Ms. Curry my full attention.

"First and most important reporting to me as scheduled and keeping all our appointments whether here or at your fixed address is mandatory and no excuses will be accepted. You must have a permanent living arrangement which we already worked out. You must find reliable and substantial employment as soon as possible. Until you find employment you must be diligently searching for employment and keeping me up to date with every application and interview. You must not conceal any weapons that may cause severe body harm. Random searches of your residence will be conducted to assure you are following all guidelines. During these searches you must be present. Curfew is at eleven not a second later. You must call me every night when you get in to let me know you are abiding by the curfew. You have no history of alcoholism or addiction, so mandatory piss tests are not part of your parole conditions. However, if for some reason that information changes and I suspect you have indulged in alcohol or illegal substances you will be order to take a piss and failing said piss test could be a breach of your parole…"

"No plans of becoming an alcoholic or addict, Ms. Curry," I interject.

"Good! Moving on since you do have a history of distributing illegal substances before your sentence and during your sentence. If you are caught with any illegal substances, around anyone who uses or distributes illegal substances or in attendance at any events where illegal substances are present that will be a breach of your parole and you will be sent back to Wentworth. You will also have to conduct community services hours and I have found the perfect task for you as a peer worker at Melbourne Recreation Centre. Teaching at risk young girls…"

"So, I get to be a babysitter to loudmouth, hormonal teenagers." I interrupt to make sure.

"Don't look at it that way. After what you've been through. You could be the change in these girls lives that they need."

"Whatever." I shrug. "Anything else?"

"Yes, last and definitely not least. This probably should have been stated first but I digress. For no reason are you to have any contact with the victim of your serious assault charge Michael Pennisi. Is that understood or do we need to go over everything again?

I shake my head. "No, I got it loud and clear."

"Okay and don't worry you will get a copy in full detail of all these conditions before you leave. Now let's talk employment."

Bridget's POV

"Thank you for meeting me at such short notice, Bridget." Vera and I sit in the Governor's office at Wentworth.

It was nice seeing her behind the desk dressed in the Governor's jacket with the gold crown on both shoulders. After the fire and Joan Ferguson's downfall, Vera was appointed the governor's position by all collective members of the board. However, why I was here today was an interesting question.

"You called I came. After all I owed you for getting me in to see Franky during that hearing fiasco," I state.

"How is Franky? Have you seen or heard from her since her release?"

"She called to thank me for my help and let me know she's settling in okay." I couldn't tell Vera that Franky's been laid up at my house since her release and we've been fucking every day sometimes all day since.

"That's good to know. Hopefully, she stays outta trouble," Vera replies.

I just smirk and nod at Vera's comment.

"I'm sure you're wondering why I called you?" Vera asks.

"Yes."

"I know things ended very rocky for you here, Bridget. I was wrong for the way I treated you and Franky. Ferguson had a hold over me and I regret a lot of things that I did back then. And that is why I put it to the board to have you reinstated here as the Forensic Psychologist permanently or at least as long as I'm governor."

"So, you want me to come back?" I was confused.

"Yes, and so does the board. So much so, that if you do come back, they've agreed to raise your salary double what you were making before."

I cross my legs and just stare at her.

"Of course, there is no pressure. After everything I won't be upset if you say no. Just take a day or two and consider it."

"I'll think about it, but I won't make any promises. Why the sudden change if you don't mind me asking?"

"I think you are good for the women. They need someone like you around here mediating between them."

"Understood, like I said I'll think about it."

Franky's POV

After leaving the meeting with my parole officer. I went to the phone company and bought me a smartphone then I spent the next few hours going from law firm and legal relief businesses to the next filling out applications. Every time I filled out an application or did an interview, I had to jot it down on the job search form my parole officer gave me. The next thing I did was head over to the rental office of my apartment to pick up my keys and check the place out.

When I entered the Imperial Complex Rental Office. The bloke behind the desk eyes me strangely. He's an older bloke with salt and pepper hair and beady brown eyes.

"Can I help you?" His voice was husky not in a sexy way but like he's spent his whole life smoking menthols every fucking day.

"I'm Francesca Doyle here to pick up my keys," I respond.

"Oh, yeah, I've been expecting you. As I explained on the phone, I usually don't rent to former criminals especially ones known for violence. I'm doing this as a solid to Harper. But if there are any problems you will be out on your arse. Am I making myself clear?" the landlord served.

"Clear, no worries mate," I say. I already expect people to judge me based on my past criminal behavior it was no shock.

"Everyone calls me, Mr. Blaine. No dude, man, mate or any other pet names your generation is used to using."

"Got it. Can I get them keys now?" I had to inhale and exhale to keep my anger from rising.

I was so happy he didn't say jack shit else as he handed me my keys and the lease to read. I read over the lease, sign it, and hand him the money order I'd gotten earlier to pay six-months rent upfront.

"Nice doing business with you, Francesca."

"You can call me, Franky," I correct.

Mr. Blaine sucks his teeth and rolls his beady eyes. "Young people never fuckin' listen."

I don't respond I just snatch the keys and my printed copy of the lease off the counter then turn and walk out. My apartment E17 was on the third floor of the complex. I was thankful the complex had an elevator. Although normally I would have gladly taken the stairs, but I was pressed for time. When I got to the 3rd floor the halls were deserted not surprising since it was midday, and most people were at work or school. When I entered my apartment, I was surprised by how big it was for a one bedroom. The living room and kitchen alone was bigger than the entire H-2 unit at Wentworth. It has a gray carpet in the living room, hardwood, shiny floors in the kitchen, all stainless steel appliances in the kitchen, a two door fridge, a dishwasher, dual sinks and just the right amount of cabinet space.

The master bedroom is large and spacious and has one bathroom adjacent to it. My bathroom has a tub, and shower head on the wall, that could be pulled down and used as s hand-held sprayer. I turn it on to check the water pressure that was up to par, I flush the toilet to check the plumbing. I was thankful I wasn't in some dump or hole in the wall spot. I went from room to room making mental notes of what was needed and taking pictures with my phone to show Gidget. Then I left and headed for the Melbourne Recreation Centre where I was scheduled to start my community services hours today.

"You're that lady who fucked that guy's face up on the telly, right?" one of the smart mouth teen girls asks.

There were thirteen girls in total it was my duty as part of my community service to teach them self-defense, morals, standards, self-esteem and self-restraint and control, along with self-love and self-worth. As if I wasn't still trying to figure all that shit out for myself, right now.

"First of all, there's no swearing during my classes is that understood?" I look around at all of them flashing my famed do not fuck with me smile and face. Each girl nods. Then I continue, "To answer your question. Yes, that was me."

"Cool," the girl who'd asked the question said with stars in her eyes.

"Awesome," another girl added.

"Fucking insane," a third girl states.

"What did I say about swearing?" I remind them. "And let me real clear and I want all you of you to hear me. There is nothing cool, awesome, or glamourous about being locked up. It consumes your life in the ways you can't even begin to imagine. Every day you lose a part of yourself…your soul…your humanity. Now let's get this class started. We will start with some basic self-defense routines first."

After my class ends the director approaches me with a smile on her face. She's a blonde haired, grey, white lady in her mid-forties.

"Francesca Doyle," she says. "I'm your community service director Leslie Reid as well as the director and manager here at the Rec."

"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Reid." I say.

"Leslie will be fine, thanks," she corrects.

That's a first for today, I think I might like this little arrangement after all.

"What you said to the girls was really good advice and something they needed to hear."

"I was just being honest," I reply.

"Have you ever thought about being a mentor?"

"Not really, not on the grand scheme of things. Actually, I never really thought I was the type of girl to be mentoring anyone," I admit.

"After what I've seen today, you are the perfect type of woman that qualifies to be a mentor. You've lived the life these kids are partaking in, and you've dealt with the consequences of what happens when you have no one guiding you down the right path. They could really use your guidance, Francesca."

"Call me, Franky, please."

"Okay, Franky, I'm serious these young girls need you, especially Ness."

"Oh, yeah, that one there seems like a handful."

"She's a good kid, but I fear that if she doesn't straighten up, she's just one bad decision or fight away from being in juvy or worse."

"I'll think about it and get back to you tomorrow."

"That's all I ask." Leslie shakes my hand.

So, it's fair to say my first day of community service went well. After leaving the Rec Centre I headed to the market. It was a like a breath of fresh air being able to stroll through the aisles looking at all the fresh fruit and veggies, smell the aroma of the fresh baked bread, cookies and other desserts.

"Damn it's good to be out," I say picking up a loaf of Texas Toast, putting it to my nose and inhaling the scent.

"Must really missed that smell, eh?" a male voice booms behind me.

I turned to see a bloke dressed in khakis, dress shoes, and Marilyn Monroe graphic photo designed long sleeve sweater.

"That's a daring ensemble," I joked giving him the once over.

"Not really much for making fashion statements," he replies. "I didn't come over here to chat about clothes. You're Franky Doyle, aren't ya?"

"And what's it to you?"

"You damn sure have the perfect face for T.V. I know they miss you," he says. "Ever thought about doing radio?"

I raise a brow and stare at him like he's crazy. "Excuse me?"

"Lance Mackey, I own 99.7 F.M. radio station. I would love to have you on my show. To discuss life and survival on the insides. Then we can discuss a possible job opportunity."

"What kinda opportunity? I just got out but I'm no dummy."

"I can see that."

"Basically, I have been debating about starting this nightly segment that's strictly centered around people who've been in prison. Or have loved ones in prison and assistance coping. I believe someone with your experience would be the perfect host for that." The man goes into his pocket, pulls out his wallet and hands me a business card. "Take a day or two to think about it. When you've made your decision call me."'

I look at the card and nod.

"Okay, I'll let you get back to your bread, enjoy."

I put the card in my back pocket, then put the loaf of Texas toast in the cart. Then I head over to the meats and pick out four of the best sirloin steaks they have. To complete my shopping list I get steak sauce with Merlot wine in it, white potatoes, white and yellow onions, green, red, yellow and orange peppers, fresh garlic, seasonings, yellow rice, fresh asparagus, and a triple chocolate cake and French vanilla ice cream and a bottle of Shiraz red wine, Gidget's favorite. I decide it's best to head to the counter before I think of something else to buy. Before heading home, I make one final stop at the Farmer's Market but not for fruits or veggies. I intended to buy Gidget a bouquet of flowers, but when I got there and saw all the different assortments, I was lost.

"You look like you could use some help," a female voice says from behind her as I look from one flower arrangement to the next confused as hell. I turn to face the voice, she is a short older woman, about five-five possibly, white, with brunette hair and you can clearly see the grey specks coming in. Her brown eyes look at the flowers and light up. "Yes, didn't know there was so many to choose from," I admit.

"Anything particular you're looking for?" the lady asks.

"Just wanted to get something nice for my girl," I respond.

"What does she like?"

"Not sure this is my first-time buying flowers…ever."

"Okay, is there a particular color you had in mind?"

"Well, her favorite color is purple."

"I have the perfect arrangement for that." She smiles.

Bridget POV

After leaving my meeting with Vera, I had only one client to see today. That two-hour session flew by quickly, then I head to the market and straight home. I wanted to make a special meal for Franky since we really hadn't eaten much besides take out food in the past four days. I was midway through meal prep when I heard the keys in the door.

"Heya," she says looking directly at me.

She has grocery bags in one hand and flowers in the other. She walks over to me, places the bags on the opposite empty counter, and kisses my lips. "I'm not that keen on floral arrangements, but the lady at the farmer's market said you'd like these."

"Aw, Franky, they are gorgeous, baby. I love em." I put the bouquet to my nose and smell them.

They were an assortment of white roses and different varieties of purple flowers, including the purple balloon flower one of my favorites. As I am smelling the flowers, Franky wraps her arms around my waist from behind me and kisses the nape of my neck.

"Um, you said you'd have something wet and warm waiting for me remember," she breathes into my ear.

"Yes, but I wanted to make you a proper meal first," I say and reach up touching her face.

She slowly strokes her fingers down each side of my stomach, causing my entire body to shiver. "What you cooking, Gidge?" she asks holding me.

"Filet Mignon, Cheesy scalloped potatoes, steamed Brussel sprouts, and garlic butter mushrooms."

"That's crazy, I was gonna cook sirloin steak for you."

"I guess great minds do really think alike." I smile.

"Apparently! Damn, I almost forgot." Franky releases me, turns back to the bags, and removes the items. "I bought dessert, ice cream, and wine, too."

"Good, that will be a great contribution to the meal because I forgot the dessert, and the bottle of Shiraz, we opened a few days ago is almost gone."

As we sit down at the table and start eating, I consider this the best time to get into the details of our day.

"How was your day, babe?" I ask.

"Eventful," Franky simply answers cutting into her medium-rare filet mignon.

"Meaning?" I stare at her.

"I have a long list of shit to do for my parole. I put in about ten applications today and got the same feedback. The whole we'll call you if we're interested bullshit. Oh, and you'll love this, I have to do community service at the Rec Centre for a bunch of delinquent teenage girls. The director also asked me to mentor one of the girls."

"Aw, Franky that's an amazing opportunity." I smile proudly.

"More like one hell of a responsibility, Gidge," she adds.

"Well, you did say that you wanted to give back to kids and women. Now's your chance."

"True," Franky agrees. "I also ran into this guy who owns a radio station. He wants me to come in for an interview and possibly a job opportunity."

"Baby, that's great." I lean over and plant kisses on her lips. "Are you going to do it?"

"I told him I'd think about it," Franky answers reminding me of my news.

"That seems to be the theme for today. Vera asked me to come back to Wentworth." I look at Franky trying to get a clear visual of her reaction. As I figured her eyes grew wide and she cocks her neck to the side.

"Really, that's…that's unexpected," she says. "What did you tell her?"

"I told her I'd think about it."

We both laugh a little.

"Well, looks like we both have major things to consider then, eh." Franky reaches over and grabs my hand. "And I know the perfect thing to help us get our minds rights."

"Is that right?" I ask looking directly into her eyes.

"That's right. Now let's finish this food, cause I'm ready for dessert and I don't mean the cake or the ice cream. On second thought, the ice cream may come in handy."

"You're so bad, Francesca Doyle."

Franky bites her bottom lip and wink at me, she knows it drives me crazy when she does that.