~Until Your Heart Stops Beating~
-Edward's POV-
It had unsettled me how I had left so abruptly. Rosaline had been asking about how I had become what I am; this thing. I hadn't been angry with her, never her. I had wanted to make that clear. So, I was heading to check on her even though it had been only a half hour since I had left her in my room.
I gently knock on the door and then crack it open, peering in. The TV cast blue and white shadows along the wall where the bed sat. I open the door wider and lean against the doorframe. Rosaline lay on my bed, curled up with her knees to her chest and lying nearly sideways to be able to watch the moving pictures.
She turns her head and her eyes catch me, forcing me to step further into the room. I shove my left hand into my pants pocket as she lifts her head of wet golden waves and smiles.
"Is everything alright, Edward?" She asks and lifts herself onto her elbows, then onto one hand while she put all her weight onto it.
"Uh, yeah, yeah. Everything is good." I reply and shove my other hand into the other pocket. She watches me, waiting for something. "Well, actually… I just wanted to apologize."
"You didn't do anything." Her eyes are gentle, truly believing I had done nothing wrong.
"I just didn't want you to think I was mad with you." I speak slowly, calmly and then sigh. I run a hand over my mouth and look to her again. "It wasn't you."
"I know." She smiles at me and I feel relieved. "I know what you were mad at."
I nod my head and start to back out of the room. I turn back and look at her again, taking hold of the doorknob.
"Is there anything you need?" I ask, trying to think of what I could offer her. "Water? Food? You haven't eaten anything since…"
I internally curse myself for bringing up the whole ordeal.
Since you were poisoned - I grumble at myself and sigh heavily. I meet Rosaline's kind stare, seeing that she wasn't bothered by the slip of my tongue.
"I'm alright. Thank you." She lays herself back down on my bed and curls up again. I feel a desire to act, move, go to her and curl up beside her. Instead, I head into my closet and pull down a blanket from the shelf. I unravel it and walk out into the bedroom, moving to the bed. I cover her up, placing a hand on her shoulder and then walk away. She catches my hand and I turn, looking down at her again.
"Truly, Edward. Thank you." She looks up at me and her expression has changed. Her eyes hold something within them that looks like gratitude and peace. "I don't know what would have happened had you not…"
As her voice trails away so do her eyes. I can see her mind working, striving to put together the pieces of her demise. Bromley wouldn't have let her go, by no means, and he certainly wouldn't have killed her. She would have been farmed, drained of blood, drained of life, until her body had grown so weak that her heart could no longer handle it. Then, and only then, she would die and be free.
"You're safe here." I whisper and place a hand on her shoulder. I give it a squeeze; not too hard, but firm and comforting. I was a vampire, but I had been human once. I had been an older brother, a son, a friend. Those things had not yet disappeared from my being.
She gives my captive hand a squeeze and shuts her eyes.
"Would you stay for a moment with me?" She asks so gently, as though wanting and not wanting me to hear her request. I look over the bed and then nod my head. She pushes herself up and I climb onto the bed behind her, legs dangling off the side as my back presses against the headboard. She places her head of wet hair on my thigh, using me as a pillow and lays a hand on my knee by her face.
I am excited and frightened. I am a vampire and she is a human… and we are two very different species.
I sit on my bed with her head in my lap for a long while; unmoving, not breathing. Silently still as she watches the TV. I hear her breath slow as does her heart, falling in rhythmic unison as she drifted away into sleep. I stare down at her and pick up my left hand, fingers gently brushing her hair back from her face. It stuck to her skin that was smooth and warm to my icy touch. I stare at my fingers against her cheek. They are pale like fresh snow and just as cold, blue veins visible beneath thin skin. Her skin was sun-kissed and warm with freckles, a a light flush on her cheeks.
"Chaos ensues as blood rations decrease…"
My eyes trail over Rosaline to the TV across the room. The news program she had been watching began a new segment. People's faces… no, not people. Vampires. Faces of vampires appear on the screen.
"We need to feed our families."
A female vampire states as she holds her young vampire baby on the screen. I feel my hand move to grip Rosaline's shoulder as my eyes become glued to the TV. Another vampire appears on the screen.
"We're starving…"
My hand grips her shoulder tighter as I feel something primal rise within me. I feel the voracious bloodlust that only a starving vampire can feel.
"The humans should just face the facts."
I raise my other hand to my face, run it over it and then push my fingers through my hair. I freeze, feeling the point on my ear.
"They are a dying breed…"
My eyes, gold and predatory, move to Rosaline's sleeping, vulnerable form. Her soft snores find their way to my ears as her eyes move beneath their lids. She is dreaming of something pleasant, a smile forming on her lips. Her hand on my knee squeezes and releases a few times, sending a warm sensation through me. It had been a long time since I had felt something like this; comfort, peace, human.
Hunts for humans continue as less and less are being found. Charles Bromley, of Bromley Marks pharmaceutical company, has had several sponsors backing out in recent weeks.
My peace is interrupted and my attention drawn back to the TV. An image of Charles Bromley appears on screen, a smug smile on his lips.
Will a new, stronger and more capable, company rise above him? Or will his company be able to provide the food supply we need?
Rosaline moves. She adjusts herself, moving her hand from my knee to lay her arm over my legs and snuggling them. I cannot deny that it feels good having such contact with another being. I miss it… being human. I want nothing more than to stay here with her in this moment; freeze it forever and allow myself to drown in it. But I am a vampire. I kill humans. I may even kill her one day if the thirst is too great. I don't want to… but I don't think I would have a choice.
I cover her up with the blanket and walk out of the room. I head down the stairs and stop in the kitchen, standing at the sink. I look at the bowl of half eaten blood soup; pig, cow, chicken. It was not enough to sustain. Just enough to tide me over. For now.
I pick up the spray bottle to the side of the sink and move to my plants. Until an hour ago, they were the only truly living thing in my home. Now a human… a human, one that had special blood and might hold the key to a cure to vampirism, lay asleep on my bed as though she was not in the home of one of her greatest threats.
I prune the plants I had long forgotten about the last few weeks. I move from one to another with the squirt bottle, spraying each of them as I lose myself in my thoughts.
It made sense now how Bromley had known about Rosaline's 'condition' long before we had begun testing her blood. It didn't make me feel any better about the situation with him though. He had tried to change her and it had failed and exposed her like a nerve.
He wants her dead and he will not stop till she is because he knows she could possibly be a cure. Not just a replacement; a solution, a way out… a way back. It is the one thing I want and the only thing he cannot allow.
He likes being a vampire. Loves it even. It has brought him all the power and wealth he had ever dreamed of as a human. He is free from pain, from disease, from death. It had attracted him and many others around the world. He will never give it up and revert back; never.
"Security alert. Back door ajar."
I lift my head up at the voice over alarm and look towards the back door, seeing someone walk into the kitchen. My eyes widen as I watch them walk around with a bag over their shoulder and something in their hand. I look to wall that hid the stairs and think about Rosaline in my bedroom, who slept soundly.
No one can know she is here. It would be a disaster. It would be her end.
"Frankie?" I call out to the visitor from my spot in the living room. Frankie walks into the living room and nods his head at me. It has been a long time since I have laid eyes on him.
"Hey Ed." He greets quietly, thinking the same thing as me.
"I hardly recognized you." I comment and motion towards the duffle bag he carries. I set down the squirt bottle and turn to face him.
"It's only been a few months." He gives a small dejected laugh and looks down at his feet. I nod my head and look back at the stairs a moment before walking towards the kitchen. I wash my hands as Frankie steps up to the island, setting a bottle in a paper bag down. "I got something for you."
"Yeah? What's that?" I ask and look up from the sink. I look at the bottle and then at Frankie, hoping it wasn't what I thought.
"What the fuck do you think it is?" He retorts with a smirk and then looks around the house. He scoffs. "This is some birthday party bro."
"Yeah, well I've turned thirty-five ten times." I counter and pick up the bottle, taking the paper bag from around it. My eyes catch his for a brief moment. "Birthdays are pointless."
"Bullshit. Let's have a drink." Frankie walks around the island and pulls two glasses from the cupboard. I open the bottle and am immediately greeted with the scent of fresh human blood. Frankie fills the glasses with ice and then sets them down in front of me, smirking.
"Smells human." I comment and set the bottle down, trying to resist temptation that was drawing me in like a drug addict in desperate need of a fix. Frankie gives a small laugh and takes the bottle, which I am grateful for, and fills the glasses near full.
"Yup. It's one hundred percent pure." He sets the bottle back on the counter again and hands me a glass. My eyes fixate on the dark, crimson liquid in his hand. The corner of his lip turns upward in a smirk. "One of the benefits of serving your country. I hear even that pig shit you drink is getting hard to find."
Frankie stretches his arm more, putting the glass closer to me. I swallow hard and shake my head.
"Ah... ah I can't." I wave the glass away and turn to the counter behind me. I shut my eyes tightly and take a deep breath, hands planted on the counter top.
"Fuck that. You need it." Frankie tries to push the glass on me again, but I shake my head and push it away. I pull a cigarette out of the box I had set on the counter and pick up my lighter.
"Yeah well... life's a bitch and then you don't die." I light up my cigarette and take a long drag, closing my eyes as I relish the nicotine. I had never been a smoker before, but, after I turned, I had found that the cigarettes helped crave my thirst. If only for a little while.
"Come on." Frankie sets the glass on the island and stares at me hard. I shake my head and pull my cigarette from my lips. I will not bend. Not on this.
"I don't touch human blood." I argue and look away from the glass. I cannot help but see a face before my eyes every time I look at human blood; one face. A woman with golden hair, blue eyes and a caring smile. The sight of the crimson and feeling the bloodlust despite the sight of someone I care about, a human, makes me sick with myself.
"You don't touch human blood... You work for a company that uses humans like fuckin' cattle." Frankie snaps, sparking my temper. He was right, but who was he to talk? I may herd the cattle, but he was the one that hunted them down like dogs.
"Don't tell me how to live my life, little brother." I growl lowly, pointing at him with the cigarette in my hand. Frankie leans on the island and stares me down.
"Then don't act all high and mighty, big brother. See… at your company they're working on some kind of fake blood. That's one thing, but we all know that their money comes from farming humans! They-"
"YOU WANT TO START EXACTLY WHERE WE LEFT OFF!?" I suddenly shout, and internally scold myself as I was instantly reminded that Rosaline was upstairs. If she heard me yelling, then she would surely come downstairs to investigate. That was something that absolutely could not happen. Not while my brother was around.
"I don't hunt humans." I take a deep breath and look back over at him with anger behind my eyes. "That is your job."
"I find them." Frankie counters without a misstep. "You farm them."
"All right well, let's just dump this shit." I feel something in me snap and I grab the bottle, moving towards the sink. I prepare to drain it. All of it. Take away the temptation before I slip and give in.
"Nothing changes, does it?" Frankie grabs the bottle back and sets it back on the island. "You still don't get why I joined."
There was a moment of silence between us. I try to calm myself, but to no avail. This was a hot topic, more so as of late than ever, with me.
"What happens when there isn't a single drop left?" I begin with eyes closed, hands on the counter with my cigarette burning in my left hand. "When there isn't a single human? A single anything?"
I am becoming more heated on the subject as the dears in my mind spin. These thoughts had plagued me for years. Slowly, everything that wasn't infected was dying. Every single food source was dying.
"We will always find more." Frankie replies, but I shake my head.
A kid... he's a dumb kid – I think to myself. I try to remind myself of this over and over again.
"A blood substitute means the end of human hunting." I explain and beg him to understand. I only wish that he would. I wish I could make him somehow.
"Fake blood doesn't mean the end of shit." Frankie snaps back.
"All right then... If I believe that, then you have to drive a stake through my heart right now." I grab the bottle and begin to dump it down the sink. Frankie tries to grab it from me and after a moment does. He looks at the bottle and see that there is barely anything left. He suddenly then throws it across the room enraged. It smashes against a wall and blood drips down to the floor slowly.
My senses are being driven wild with the intoxicating scent of the iron rich liquid.
Frankie picks up his bag and storms to the door, but a growl makes both of us jump. A deprived vampire walks through the door, mutated and monstrous. It sniffs the air and then growls lowly again as it tries to find the sweet smell of blood.
"Shit!" I back up and round the island, trying to put as much space between me and it. The thing growls again and then goes to the wall, licking the blood that was beginning to dry. Its winged arms scratch against the paint like nails on a chalkboard.
"Frankie." I look to my little brother and then mutated vampire, unsure of what to do. It pulls itself away from the wall and spreads its wings, snarling at us. It was a thing of nightmares. I understood now what humans were frightened of. To them, we were this; monstrous, hideous, terrifying.
It walks closer to Frankie, but stops and goes after the glass of blood on the island. I lurch forward and try to grab a knife from the wood block by its head, my fingers slipping on the handles. It lifts its head suddenly and snarls at me, showing its teeth. I growl back and jump, my back hitting the counter by the fridge. Frankie grabs a knife and holds it tightly, ready to use it.
"Frankie, don't-"
The mutated vampire suddenly hits Frankie in the chest, sending him flying back towards the kitchen table and hitting the wall. He falls onto the table, smashing it and is unconscious. Then the mutated vampire looks to me. I grab a stool and hold it up as a defense against it.
I was no soldier. Not like my brother. I didn't know how to fight.
I spot something gold swaying by the stairs and look back at the mutated vampire. I take a quick glance at the stairs again and see a pair of blue orbs peering out through the designs in the wall. I knew she would come down if she heard raised voices. I knew it. If the mutated vampire caught a whiff of her, it would be over.
"Get upstairs and lock the door now!" I shout to her and see her head disappear behind the wall again. I look down at Frankie, unconscious on the ground and kick him once to try and wake him. "Frankie! Frankie, get up!"
Frankie stirs and lifts his head. He jumps to his feet and grabs the knife from the floor. He moves the table, creating space to combat the mutant and we both lurch at it to attack. It springs up and latches itself onto the ceiling like some kind of demon. Frankie tries to slash at it, but the mutant swings a wing at him. Frankie tries again and this time cuts the beast along its abdomen. He slashes again and then again. The mutant falls limp, feet still latched onto the ceiling. Frankie slashes again and removes its head, causing the mutant to fall to the ground defeated.
We look to each other and then back at the beast, both realizing the gravity of the situation. I throw down the stool and toss up my hands, shaking my head. I walk down the two steps of the dining room and head into the living room.
It wasn't long after that the police arrived. I was grateful that I had given Rosaline some of my clothes. My scent probably helped mask hers and the hope that she was probably under the covers of my bed, made it better. The police, my brother, hopefully that wouldn't know she was about; know I had aided and was abetting a human.
"This is the third home here in the last month. These things are in the suburbs now. So, it's important that you update your security." One of the police officers say to me, but I ignore him and look to Frankie. He was being looked at by a medic, his face hard and staring at the dead mutant vampire lying limp on my kitchen floor.
"Same common traits as all the others. Aggression was most likely brought on by massive reductions in serotonin levels." A medical examiner announces to one of the other policemen. I stand up from my seat and walk closer to the body, leaning against the nearest wall.
"Ugly son of a bitch." The policeman comments while taking a drag of his cigar. He looks at me and gives me a smirk, taking another drag. "Wouldn't you agree?"
"Together forever; Lillian and Carl." The names catch my attention and makes me look over at the examiner.
"Carl?" I ask no one in particular. I move closer and stare down at the body. This thing, this creature, couldn't be him. Could it?
"You knew him?" The policeman asks in surprise, looking from me to the medical examiner.
"Yeah, he was the local gardener." I start and shake my head as I try to remember when I had last seen him. "I saw him two weeks ago."
"He was feeding on other vamps. Only takes a couple of weeks to get this messed up." The policeman comments and nods his head at Carl.
"Most of these wounds look self-inflicted." The examiner announces and looks up from the body.
"He fed on himself?" The policeman asks, not believing his ears. I don't believe it either.
"Perhaps. That would speed up the mutation." The examiner explains and stands up, taking the head of the mutant with her in a plastic bag. The policeman scoffs and shakes his head at the mutant on the ground. He then orders for someone to come and claim it.
After another hour, they all leave and I start to clean up. I stop when I get to the sink in the kitchen, picking up the overturned glass of blood. I look it over and then feel anger surge through me at the trouble it and my brother had caused; the even more devastating trouble it had almost caused. It throw the broom I had in my hand to the ground and slam the glass down on the counter. I walk into the living room and head for the stairs.
"You alright?" Frankie asks from where he sits on my couch, watching TV.
"I have blood all over me." I spit and climb the stairs. I hit the top of the stairs and walk to my bedroom, taking hold of the doorknob. I turn it slowly, feeling that it was locked like I had told her to do. I give a small sigh of relief and lay my forehead on the doorframe as I close my eyes. I hear the click of the lock, feeling it reverberate through the doorknob and take my head from the wood. It opens slowly to reveal Rosaline behind it with wavy, air dried hair that was messy from lying down. She runs a nervous hand through it and lets go of the doorknob with her other hand.
She opens her mouth to ask me something, but stops when I hold a finger to my lips in a gesture that told her to be quiet. I take the same finger and point to the stairs, to the floor below us, hoping she understood my meaning. She nods.
I place a hand gently on her shoulder and push her back into the bedroom. I close the door behind me and relock it, walking into my bathroom. I wash my hands, my forearms, my face. I wet my hair and run a hand through it, willing my nerves to settle.
I lift my head and look at myself in the mirror. I try to imagine a face, my face, from before everything; before I was a vampire. My brown, shaggy hair and my pale alabaster skin... my golden eyes. The water continues to run and the sound dulls to a murmur as I tell myself these were my eyes now; the eyes of a killer. I get the feeling of being watched and look out into the bedroom.
Rosaline is sitting on my bed by the headboard and above the covers. She hugs a pillow tightly to her chest with her knees pulled up as far as they could go and face half hidden by the fabric. She was watching me carefully, my every move, scanning me from top to bottom. She takes in the way I was leaning on the counter, the way I was staring back at her, the blood covering my clothes.
Her eyes stop at my face and she stares deeply into my diseased orbs. She searches for something there; something that I am not sure resides there anymore.
"What color were they before?" She asks softly, freeing her face from the pillow. She tucks it beneath her chin. I stare into her deep pools that reminded me of a starry moonlit night. Her breathing is slow and quiet as she waits for me to respond. I look back at the mirror and stare at the eyes gleaming back at me. They almost seem to sparkle.
"Blue." I reply and walk out of the bathroom. I get to the bed and open the nightstand drawer beside Rosaline. She watches as I rummage around for a moment before I find the little black book I had in there.
"What shade?" Rosaline asks as I flipped through the pages, searching for something. I wasn't quite sure what, but I need to busy myself. I look down at her and then close to the book back up. I slip it into the drawer again and close it.
"Grey-blue." I reply and then sit down on the bed. I look to my right at her, examining her with as much care as she had done with me moments before. She stares at me with her big blue eyes and, being this close, I can see exactly the shades of blue that make up her stunning pools. It started out as a dark blue and then slowly got lighter the closer it got to the pupil, almost white next to the black.
"Are you alright?" I ask softly as though not to spook her even more. I can see her fingers gently shaking with nerves as she holds the pillow tight.
"I'm fine." She replies and snuggles into the pillow again. She turns her head and looks at me once more. "Are you?"
"Yeah." I nod my head and try to give her a reassuring smile, but I can tell she knows better.
"Yeah because that was real convincing." She laughs and smiles back at me, outstretching a hand to mine. She grasps it, giving it a single squeeze as though to comfort me and herself. "Who is down stairs now?"
"Just my brother, Frankie." She nods her head and looks down at the comforter she sits on. She plays with one of the fraying strands on it and licks her rosy lips.
"He's a hunter?" She asks slowly. I can tell she didn't want to over step any boundaries again, but at the same time wanted to know. Needed to know. She has a right to. She is human in a vampire's house. I would be cautious too. My silence is answer enough for her and she takes her hand back.
"How long were you on the stairs?" I ask seriously. I had only seen her when the mutated vampire had appeared. Had she been there longer? What had she heard? She gives a small shrug and looks back at me.
"I was coming down when I heard the security system. I froze and was a little too afraid to move or go back upstairs. So, I sat down and waited." She admits, scrunching her face apologetically.
"I couldn't smell you at all." I think back to the entire conversation between my brother and me. Not once did I smell her. Not even a little.
"Well, let's see. I used the same soap you do; the same shampoo. I'm wearing your clothes which smell like your cologne. I doubt a bloodhound could tell the difference between you and me right now." She smiles and releases the pillow a little from her tight grasp. I was glad to see she was coming out of her shell again, though, we need to be careful. A hunter was sitting on my couch below us. Any louder and the TV that garbled about random news stories would not be enough to hide our voices.
"Yeah, you're right." I give a small snort of a laugh and nod my head. She is right. I can barely make out her scent right now and I am only a few inches away.
"So, is Frankie staying?" I can see the worry in her face as she asks. Again, she did not want to cross a boundary she was not allowed to while also feeling she needed to know.
Are you thinking of leaving? – I ask internally as I watch emotion pass her eyes. She's afraid.
"Yeah, I'm not sure how long though." I reply and then inwardly curse. I hate that he came back right when I was in the middle of something so important. Something that could very well change everything. "And tomorrow I have work... Shit…!"
I give a groan and turn away from her. I tilt my head back and then bring it back up, running a hand through my hair. I completely forgot about work. What would I do now? I couldn't leave her alone in my house with Frankie. He would no doubt find her.
"That's alright. I'll skip out in a little while. He'll never notice me." She smiles and sits up, but I can see her expression betraying her. She doesn't want to leave. She wants to stay here in my bed, in my clothes, in my house. She tosses the pillow off to the side where it had been and stretches.
She isn't actually planning on leaving is she? She can't. She could get hurt... or worse. – I think and watch her as she stands up from the bed. She cracks her knuckles before walking to where her heels were, where that ugly damned dress was that Bromley forced her into. She picks them up and gives a small snort.
"Better than nothing I guess…" She mumbles to herself as she looks them over.
"You can't leave." I say suddenly and shake my head at her and the silly idea. She looks over at me with knitted eyebrows. I realize what she was thinking. I raise a hand and quickly backtrack. "I mean... of course you can leave. You're not a prisoner here. I won't stop you. You're blood though. I still need to study your blood and you're safer with me, here, then out there on your own."
"…then what do we do?" She asks, purely concerned about this idea. I shake my head and look towards the door for a moment. I stand from the bed and run a hand over my mouth as I try to think of a plan. So many things were going wrong. We need to be careful.
"I don't know." I reply softly and shake my head. I really have no idea what I… what we should do. First thing first though. I need to start including her in the planning process. I'm not her captor, her prison ward. I was her...
I can't finish my thought because I have no word to fill the void. What could I say? Her savior? Her doctor? Her friend? What was suitable in this situation?
"Edward?" She calls out to me from where she stands. I look to her and lick my lips, sighing heavily.
"We're in a very tricky situation and one wrong move could mean the end of everything; a substitute, a possible cure…" I speak carefully and shake my head again when I fail to come up with a plan. "We'll figure it out though."
"We?" She asks slowly, her face contorting as though the phrase sounded odd on her tongue.
Have I overstepped? Did she not think of us as we? Was there an us to begin with? What the Hell am I doing? – I fumble over my thoughts.
"You're as much a part of this as I am." I reply and shove my hands into my pockets.
"We..." She tests the word out again as though trying to decide if she liked it or not. She smiles genuinely and I feel my lips curl into one of my own. "Am I allowed to call you a friend now? Or is that just completely off the table?"
She walks back to the bed, pauses before me to stare up at me. I am only a few inches taller than her, my chin to her forehead, but I like the way she looks up at me. Her big eyes reflecting the smile on her lips.
"We are friends, Rose." I confirm, grateful that she had given me some hint as to what all this was. Putting a label to it feels good and right. It had been a long time since I could honestly call anyone a friend. "We have been for a while."
She rushes me. Her arms wind around my neck as she pulls herself taut against me in a hug. Her cheek presses against my cheek, chest against chest, beating heart to one that hadn't pumped in decades. I wrap my arms around her, breathing in the scent of Irish Springs that lingers on her skin. My fingers flex and stretch out, one covering her upper back while the other sat at her middle. I have not held anyone like this, let alone a woman, a human woman, in what feels like a millennia.
"What are we going to do now?" She asks gently, her warm breath tickling my cold skin.
"I'm going to go pick up the mess in my kitchen." I reply with a ghost of a smile on my lips. She gives a small, huffy laugh and lets me go. I don't want to let go. I want to stay here, like this, safe in her arms forever. She looks at me, her hands on my shoulders and simply stares as though searching for something again.
"Thank you." She breathes out and I see the emotion swirling in her eyes. Her gratitude was almost too much. I didn't deserve it. Not really. I nod my head and step out from her hands, heading towards the bedroom door. I unlock it and look back to her.
"Lock it behind me." I instruct her and she nods, moving closer. I take one last look at her and then walk out the door. I hear the lock click as I head back downstairs. I have no idea how I was going to get away with this. If I had work tomorrow and Frankie was around, then there was bound to be serious trouble. It would be over for her.