Notes: Who's ready to learn a bit about someone's ~mysterious past?~
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
"Hey, angel." Alex slides onto the stool at the center of the bar, grinning. She's actually done her hair for tonight, which is a step up from her usual day off carefree look (and she actually spent time on it, too, 'cause it's date night - ish - and she wants to look good— she broke out a curling iron and everything!), and is sporting a brand new (old) tank and leather jacket. They are, of course, not hers. Benefits of having a girlfriend, even if the jacket is a bit too big in a way that can't pass for slouchy in quite the same manner as the tank can.
Frankie should be showing up soon. Alex said 8:30 and it's 8:33. But Frankie is like her: frequently late. Hell, Alex just showed, too. Frankie might be a few more minutes, since she actually has a car to find parking for.
Alex might be a tiny bit nervous for Jonas to meet Frankie. Never the other way around, because Frankie is crazy good with other people (to the point that Alex may sometimes get a little jealous). But Jonas is the Good one. Frankie is the devil on her shoulder. And if Jonas doesn't approve… Nah. She doesn't need his approval. Though it would be nice. Alex thinks the fact that she's been taking better care of herself lately should make him proud - and she chalks it entirely up to Frankie - but who knows. It's his job to guardian, after all. Might feel like he's being replaced. (Though he was the one who'd disappeared for a week, week and a half.)
Drumming her fingers on the bar, Alex leans back a little with a mischievous smile. "Got a surprise for you."
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"Let me guess— 'Better Tits' is coming in. Because you literally told me about this yesterday." Jonas has an easy smile on his face for two reasons. One: Alex just walked in the room, and two: he's been more relaxed than normal as of late. Theo had kicked his ass, sure, but she was always fun to talk with after he'd dealt with his own personal problems. She'd been there for him through a lot of the harder issues. Now, she still is. Though he's quiet in pouring a shot of tequila and sliding it over to Alex. May as well 'celebrate' considering she's found someone to entertain herself with for a little while. Wow that is a horrible thought. Jesus.
The business is still slow, and he's serving drinks to regulars as they come up from a game of pool, while Daniel and Reggie both chat in the office. Jonas can't catch too much of the conversation because the jukebox is playing, and he's working on putting ice in a glass, when another little fact catches his eye. The shirt Alex has on is new. Well— not new in the sense that is was bought recently, but he hasn't seen it before. Upon closer examination, he can already feel dread like a cold claw stretching into his throat. The North Valley Hawks. Or, the same mascot image he's seen nearly a thousand times in his high school years, pasted right there in front of him.
…But that means—
The door opens again, and Jonas freezes in place, one hand still on a glass with the other halfway up to the back of his neck. Frankie. Frankie, who's just a couple years younger than he is, and was one of the biggest ties to his past that he'd rather forget, is standing in the doorway. She doesn't look anything like she used to. More makeup, more flair, but with the same general features. Something Alex would go for in a heartbeat. How did he not see this coming? What has he been thinking about? Which cue did he miss? Jonas forces himself to swallow, but there's a ball of cotton in his throat when he locks eyes with Frankie, who just offers a wink and a grin. Alex doesn't know. Alex doesn't know, that was a signal from when— Fuck.
Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.
.
She walks in the door like she owns the place, but that's par for the course. Alex turns at the sound of the door, lighting up like a kid on Christmas morning.
Frankie's eyes slip off of Jonas and straight onto Alex like she's only got eyes for her blue-haired paramour, that grinning smirk that is just ever so slightly sharper than Alex's own spreading on dark lips before she's made it to the bar and grabbed Alex by the lapels, pulling her in for a kiss that's harder than usual in a way that makes Alex far too happy. It's possessive - half a show - and Alex is so lost in it, a soft pliant noise slipping from her lips, that she doesn't notice the glance her girlfriend shoots to the bartender.
They go on maybe— no, definitely longer than is necessary for a 'hello' kiss. It's an exhibition Alex is more than willing to participate in. Heated, messy, and Alex would be falling off of her stool in her eagerness to get at Frankie if the woman wasn't standing close enough to keep her from doing so. When they finally do break apart, Frankie's thumb comes up to swipe away the smudges of lipstick that have smeared over Alex's mouth.
"Hi." Alex is a little breathless, pupils blown out as she gradually comes back to herself from her daze, Frankie's hand cupping her cheek.
"Hey, baby." It's a purr, followed up by another kiss - slow and sweet and Jesus Christ she's good with her tongue. Alex is practically putty. It's a little unfair, to do this to her in public, but hell; Alex is into it. She's grown attached to attention. When Frankie pulls away again, she's making a contemplative face. "Tequila?"
Alex smiles broadly. Is it bad that she finds it crazy hot Frankie can taste it on her? Whatever. It is. "Mmhm."
Frankie finally turns to look at Jonas full on, maybe a little smug, flicking a credit card from some hidden pocket to toss on the bar. "I'll have what she's having."
There's a snort from a man a couple seats down the bar, and Alex bursts into laughter, hand on Frankie's arm. "Oh my god."
"What? I will!" If she could ever pass for innocent at any point in her life, it certainly isn't now.
Alex cackles, and turns to Jonas. "I told you-" But he looks… off. Alex's voice falters, fading away as she cocks her head. "You okay, bud?" She lets out an awkward half laugh, but the worry in her eyes is sincere.
"Yeah," Frankie's eyes are too wide as she looks over as well, and there's almost a mocking pout on her smudged lips. "You okay? 'Bud '?"
.
This is whiplash of the highest form. Jonas's mind is switching wildly from one course of action to another, trying to gauge both his past and his present at the same time, before one finally just turns on.
He's going to fucking kill her. Plain as day, simple as night, he's going to shoot Frankie in the head when this is all over. A terse smile stretches over his lips, a look Alex has never seen on him before, all bared teeth and barely hidden disdain. He shouldn't be doing this. He shouldn't even be thinking about this. But old habits die hard, and this is a habit he hasn't had the patience - nor time - to break. It just sits there like a cat in the doorway. Frankie recognizes the look. One of runs gone bad, one of an uncooperative client, one of the Jonas Signatures. A surefire sign that he was going to pummel someone into the ground within the next fifteen minutes. But it's the first time it's been directed toward her.
"Course I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?" His voice is all bite and venom as he spins on his heel, flicking the towel that had been in his hands over one shoulder as he pours another shot. "No need for the card though. Alex's told me all about you. Seem perfect for one another."
Jonas isn't really lying, but he's certainly ready to spring on someone, taut like a bowstring. They don't even take AmEx, is that some kind of ploy? Just rubbing shit in his face? It's like her. Like Frankie. Like her boyfriend. God, he's going to kill her. He should be trying to calm down, to act civil, but that just isn't working. There are a million reasons why Frankie would be here with her. Maybe they really just met up, maybe she's left the life behind like he did, but that doesn't seem right. Alex works at a club. Frankie isn't exactly a stranger to that environment, since it's the sort of crowd she used to favor with her little side hustle.
It's all coming together now, isn't it?
A shot glass is slid over the counter of the bar without another word, almost too casually. Just waiting for the right moment. Just waiting for someone to shoot. He's still tense, still smiling that scimitar smile, as he leans on the wall and crosses his arms over his chest. There's a crack in the rim of the glass.
.
Frankie's eyes have narrowed on Jonas, not keen on being challenged, especially by a guy who pussied out after just a few years. Even if that stone cold mockery of a smile chills her, she doesn't look about to back down. In fact, while Alex's eyes are flicking curiously over Jonas, concernedly trying to figure out where the sudden tension is coming from, Frankie is practically sneering, slipping her arm around her girlfriend's shoulders. It's a power play, really, maybe gloating a little, staring straight at Jonas as her thumb traces Alex's jaw.
Alex looks to Frankie, then back to Jonas, then back to Frankie. Is this… some kind of… territory thing? If it is, she has to admit she's finding it kinda hot. A little surprising, that Jonas would be jealous, since… they're nothing, really. Friends. Just friends. But Alex already knows Frankie's possessive. It's nice, feeling wanted. She tilts her head to let Frankie's touch stroke down her neck, resting her head on Frankie's shoulder with a little sigh and closing her eyes. If Jonas wants to be jealous, fine.
Frankie's fingers slide over Alex's skin, curving around her throat, and it's a second before Alex realizes what exactly is happening as Frankie's thumb and forefinger press against the veins on either side of her neck until she can feel the pulse under her skin. Jesus fucking Christ, at the bar? Really? That's usually a bedroom-only activity. Alex obviously has a slight exhibitionistic tendency, 'cause she doesn't stop it right away, though her eyes are half-lidded as she shoots a sidelong glance at her girlfriend, choking her in broad daylight - evening light? early night light? - because, fuck, Frankie is just Like That and it makes Alex's knees weak. Which is no good at the moment, so Alex pulls away with a sheepish grin, slapping Frankie's hand down but unable to look at all angry. "You're gonna get us kicked out!" Honestly, not usually something Alex is worried about, but she's also not used to having to look out for someone more wild than she is.
Frankie chucks a finger under Alex's chin to catch another quick kiss before turning back to the bartender. "Jonas wouldn't do that to us, would you Jonas?"
Alex isn't quite sure if she's mentioned Jonas's name before, still feeling the rush of blood to the head making her flushed and a little lightheaded for a second or two as she grins. "He's a stickler for the rules, this one. A real bad-boy-gone-good. He would totally-" Oh. "Oh god, I can't believe I haven't—" Alex shakes her head with a laugh. "Jonas, this is Frankie. Frankie, Jonas."
.
Oh, he would just love to kick her out. That would be the highlight of his night, absolutely, but Alex is with her. And she doesn't know. So instead Jonas keeps that terse smile on his face, head inclining just a bit as he takes on an almost condescending tone. "We're acquainted. High school, remember? Year or two behind me? Those were the good old days." Spent either in the chop shop or guiltily avoiding his family. "Nice to see you again, Francesca. Didn't expect you to be in the neighborhood."
Jonas hadn't expected her at all. But now he's taking it in stride the best he can, listening to whatever song is playing on the jukebox as background noise, grin only widening. He looks like a caged animal, something almost feral but not quite there yet. If the tension doesn't break soon, he might go crazy. Not as if that's anything new for him. Or, new for the old him. That's an odd thought. A part of his mind is blaring out warning signs, screaming code red in his face, but Jonas is pointedly ignoring that part of him. The dial swings wide.
Frankie's head is gonna get crushed in. One way or another. And if she keeps putting those grubby fucking hands on Alex— Well. He has a lot to say about that.
.
Alex is pretty sure she's never heard Jonas sound so mean. It distracts her from her girlfriend, watching him with a wary curiosity, because that just… doesn't sound like Jonas. It's enough to edge into the pleasant buzz of an almost-high she gets around Frankie, a chilly shock of reality that grounds her rather suddenly, gaze sharpening to once more glance between the two of them.
"…Okay, I must be-"
"Shh-" Frankie has a hand on Alex's chin again, dragging her face back to focus on her, kissing her to cut off her comment. "It's fine, baby. It was all a long time ago. Nothing to do with you."
It doesn't do much to pacify her. Alex's brow creases for a second, because that sounds like they didn't get along - and Jonas's smile is terrifying in a way she knows she likes too much for it to be healthy, and it seems to say the same thing. But she doesn't try to step in again. Not gonna get in the middle of whatever this is.
Frankie's lips are tight, a sort of irritable smirk as she looks back to Jonas. "Me and a few friends moved into the area recently." I'm not alone here. "It's nice having a few familiar faces around." I have backup. "Set up a kind of…" her eyes flick to Alex, but Alex is staring intently at Jonas, frowning, visibly fidgety, because despite what she might think she's shit at hiding her feelings, "…small business." Don't get in our way. "What about you, Long? Is this where you ran—"
"Ow-" Alex has a hand to her mouth, empty shot glass in her other hand (because why leave perfectly good booze on the counter if it could be used to make this moment feel less horribly awkward). When she pulls it away, it's bloody. "Fuck." She swipes her tongue over her lip, sucking it into her mouth and trying to find where the cut is, examining the shot glass. "What the fuck, angel, why are you using cracked glassware?" Sharp eyes look to him accusingly, but it's less personal and more professional admonishment. They both know better, with their experience.
.
Jonas is about to spit something back at Frankie when Alex cuts herself on the glass. There's a barely seen wince, and his grin falters for only a moment, a concerned look replacing it until he schools himself back into anger. Frankie's glass caused it. Meaning he has even more reason to be angry. Unless, of course, he were actually focusing and being smart about his actions. Which he isn't.
"Sorry, Ms. Blue Curaçao. Won't happen again." That's the first time he's called her anything other than her name, or some variation of it.
.
Frankie sucks in a sympathetic hiss of breath, turning to Alex to once more take her face in hand, and Alex shoots Jonas one last half-concerned, half-irritated look before locking eyes with her girlfriend again. "Poor baby."
Alex is not a fan of that phrase. And Frankie knows it. Which must be why her pout shifts into a grin. Which, admittedly, does make Alex feel a little better.
Frankie's thumb pulls down Alex's lip to examine the damage, her other hand holding her fast, woven into the hair at the nape of her neck to keep her from pulling away. Alex winces a little when the cut is found, but the firm hold keeps her still enough, even if she can't help but test it. Frankie's eyes light, sparking with something wicked that Alex is sure other people have seen in her, and when her thumb pauses at Alex's lips again, Alex narrows her eyes. She has to be kidding. Her eyes flick to Jonas as if to say, really? He's right there. And Frankie grins and lets go, popping her finger in her own mouth for a second instead, to clean it.
"You're gross," Alex deadpans with a wry smile. "But I love you."
"Go clean yourself up, babe."
Alex rolls her eyes, but does as she's told with an apologetic look to Jonas. Just a couple minutes to figure this out, stop the bleeding. It should be fine. Slipping off her bar stool, she heads for the bathroom.
Frankie turns to Jonas with a barely civil sneer. "One: don't call me fucking Francesca, Jonas." Her tone has lost the soft murmur she had when dealing with Alex, instead a smooth and bitter sarcastic disdain. "And two: why is my girlfriend calling you 'angel?'"
.
"Wouldn't you like to know, Francesca." The spoken 'r' is a rolled mockery, as he kicks off of the wall to slowly splay his hands out over the bar. She's on his turf now. Sure, maybe she has friends, but this is Jonas's neighborhood. His bar. No way in hell that's going to make it any better for her particular situation.
.
Frankie rolls her eyes at Jonas's mockery, annoyance quickly supplanted by smugness. "Fine. If you don't want to use it, I've got her moaning my name enough to make up for it." It's a pointed look, a victorious smirk, hands shoved into her pockets and chin high.
.
"Though you could go ahead and tell me why the hell you're here. And with the crew, no less? My my. Business back home not enough?" It almost sounds teasing, and if it weren't for that little note of hatred in his voice, it would be just like old times. The good old days, as he'd called them. Even if they were never really good. Even if he was cheating the system half the time and running from it the other half.
Even if Frankie was always one step ahead on their plans, while he wasn't told anything, thought of as more a walking hulk of muscle than brains. Admittedly, that still hurts a bit. Maybe more than a bit. The tips of Jonas's fingers go white from the pressure he's putting on wood, leaning just a bit onto the balls of his feet, glowering over her from where he's standing. He isn't about to give her the pleasure.
.
His questioning earns him a level stare, like she's measuring him up, evaluating his threat, deciding if it's worth it to tell him. "Is it really any of your business? Looks like you've gone legit, if she's so convinced you're harmless." Frankie jerks her head toward where Alex disappeared to.
Emboldened by the idea, she pulls her hands from her pockets to lean against the bar. "How long did it take after running for you to go soft?" Her voice has gone too smooth. "Who pulled your teeth, Jonas?" Her smile flashes sharply as it widens: "What lucky boy lifted the lifter?"
.
Jonas barks out a heated laugh, shaking his head at Frankie's accusation. It's his business if she's still dealing, with someone he considers a friend all wound up in the middle of it. And, if she's still with the old crew, still with Michael— Well. That would be even worse. That would be two-timing. That would be cheating. And that might hurt Alex more than it'd hurt him. The thought makes him consider his next words, even as he leans a bit forward, one eyebrow raised in an almost cocky expression.
"There isn't a lucky fuckin' boy, Francesca. I went straight because I do what I damn well please, and I didn't want to associate with some small fry lawbreakers like you anymore. Got it?" That isn't exactly a welcoming tone. It definitely isn't the same one he had before. It's more deadly, a poisoned malice to it.
.
"You went straight, Jonas?" Frankie doesn't back down. She probably should, but she doesn't know that. She just sees the old car thief who couldn't take the heat and ran out of the kitchen with his tail between his legs. Her smile is too sharp, too pointed, too caught on that one word, and taking it personally. "Is this about your shitty part-time at this dump, or your hitting on my girlfriend?"
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Oh. That isn't something she should have said. Jonas has one hand wrapped in the fabric of her jacket before he can stop himself, tugging her over the lip of the bar as that grin comes back onto his face. He looks almost deranged. Which definitely isn't a good thing for Frankie. "You just don't know how to fuckin' pace yourself, huh you little chump? Go back to your goddamn turf. Stay in North Valley. Stay far, far away from me. Or I will not hesitate to slam your head so hard into the goddamn pavement that it pops like a fucking water balloon."
.
Alex is pretty satisfied that her lip has stopped bleeding, even if it's a little swollen and dark. Frankie can kiss it better. She smiles to herself at that thought before heading back out to the bar.
Which is… weirdly quiet. No chatter. And when she rounds the corner from the bathrooms she realizes why.
Frankie is on her tiptoes, pulled over the bar by a hand in her collar. Jonas's hand in her collar. And he looks pissed. Frankie has gone pale, but looks just as stubborn as always, like she's seething just under the surface, even if she's too smart to open her mouth.
Okay, so not getting along may have been an understatement. They look about to rip each other's heads off.
"What…" Alex's steps falter, and her brow furrows, and it's obvious she's trying not to look as hurt as she feels. But well… despite what she might think… she's shit at hiding her feelings. Frankie knows that by now, and it hasn't even been two months.
"Get your fucking hands off of me, Jonas." Frankie's voice is quiet, that simmering rage fueled by disdain and fear. "…Unless you want a fucking lawsuit. "
.
There are two different courses of action running through his head. Punch Fankie, make a mistake, end up somewhere he most definitely doesn't want to be. Back down, lose a battle, win a war. Two pretty simple choices. Doesn't mean he has to be happy about either of them. Because he's definitely not happy.
Jonas damn near tosses her back onto the ground, a spat "Coward! " through his teeth, as he starts to walk away. Daniel has made his way out from the back, looking more concerned for his employee than for the patron.
"Jonas? Are-"
"I'm going for my break."
He shoulders past, cigarette already clamped between his teeth. The owner of the Kanaloa is left looking dumbstruck as the rattling of door hinges being slammed echoes through the bar. And just like that, Alex's guardian angel is gone.
.
Alex's eyes are wide. He just… he just left. He's never just left. When she was just some annoying drunk girl covered in glitter, when she was throwing herself at him, when she was in tears, hyperventilating, swallowed by doubt, he'd stayed. Jonas is the most patient person she's ever met. And now… and now he just walked right past her. It shouldn't hurt as much as it does, but she feels like she's been stabbed straight through the sternum. "…Angel?" It's hardly a breath, her eyes following him away, and if she heard herself she'd be ashamed at how childish it sounds. But she doesn't.
"Alex!"
Things are happening too fast. Alex feels the panic creeping in as she turns to Frankie, who looks livid. And betrayed. There's a second, as Frankie's face goes from anger to incredulity, her mouth dropping open.
"You can't be-"
"No!" God, no. Alex immediately goes to Frankie's side, because she can't lose both of them in one night, she can't be left alone in a bar where everyone is too focused on her as she loses her metaphorical footing. She's too relieved that Frankie stays put, that she puts an arm around her, and walks her right out of the bar. Even if anxiety is swelling that she's leaving scorched earth in her wake.
Notes: Let the drama commence. ;D I need reactions to this chapter for multiple reasons. xD Lemme know what you think!
-OWT