Accardi (Genevieve and Matteo) by Allison Franklin novel Chapter 62

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A knock came at Genevieve’s door. She turned away from her suitcase as Sarah opened the bedroom door with a shy smile and a coffee cup in her hands.

“Can I come in?” Sarah asked. Gen nodded her consent before going back to her suitcase.

She had been home for two days. Her roommates were surprised to see her show up, suitcase in hand. What surprised them even more, though, were the bandages covering her arms, the bruises coating most of her skin and the swelling of her face. She told them she didn’t

want to talk about it and so far they’d honored her request. How was she supposed to explain she’d been kidnapped by a group of men who beat her because her mafia boss ‘boyfriend‘ owned an illegal nightclub in which these men fought and lost? Even saying that in her head sounded certifiable. Sarah would have called her contacts and escorted her to the nearest mental hospital before she had a chance to

set her bag down.

Gen stayed in her room for the most part, until last night when she’d smelled lasagna wafting in under her door. Her stomach growled so loudly she thought the entire house heard. She had opened her door to find all four of her roommates standing there: Louise holding the pan of lasagna near the floor while Abigail had a tiny fan blowing the enticing smells inward. There was no stopping it, Gen had burst out

laughing. After that they sat around their dining table talking about absolutely everything but New York. It felt great. It felt normal. It

wouldn’t last. She knew that. But that’s why she came back to Boston. To be around people she could trust. People she knew.

“What are you doing?” Sarah asked, setting the tea she’d brought on Gen’s nightstand.

Gen continued to pull clothes out of her carry–on. “Looking for my sneakers.”

“You’re going on a run?”

“Yeah, I thought it might…” Gen froze.

She found her sneakers but then, on the bottom of her bag, she spotted something she knew for a fact she hadn’t packed. She pulled

Matteo’s hoodie out and stared down at it in disbelief. How had he gotten this in her bag? She lifted it to her nose and inhaled. She

squeezed her eyes tight against the stinging pain brought on by the tobacco honey scent that was him.

“Gen?”

Genevieve kept the hoodie pressed to her face, turned and sat down on the bed beside Sarah. She pulled the hoodie down and held it in

her lap.

“Please, just tell me what happened. I won’t tell the others, I promise,” Sarah begged, her voice small as if she were afraid to ask.

Gen sniffled. “A lot. A lot happened.”

“Did that guy hurt you?” she asked.

Gen shook her head. Not directly, she wanted to say. “Everyone warned me about him. They said he was dangerous. That he lived a life I

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wasn’t prepared for.”

“Were they right?”

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Gen looked over at Sarah who was running her hand up and down Gen’s back in soothing strokes. “No,” she confessed. She looked back

down at the hoodie. “It turned out I was more than capable of holding my own in a bad situation.”

“And that scares you.”

“It makes me wonder if I could do what I did, what else am I capable of?”

“You’ve always been strong, Genevieve. Just because you had to do something drastic to survive a situation, doesn’t make you a bad

person.”

Gen sniffled again. “You’re really good at your job.”

Sarah gave her a proud smirk as if she’d accomplished her mission in getting Gen to open up. “I know. I just got a promotion, remember?”

Gen laughed softly and wiped a tear from her cheek. She stood up and pulled the hoodie over her running shirt. “I better get out there

before the marathoners take over the sidewalks,” Gen said, tying her shoes. Truthfully she didn’t want to talk about it anymore for fear

the floodgates would burst and they’d never close again.

“Okay, well you know if you need anything you can always…”

“I know,” Gen whispered, giving Sarah a smile of reassurance.

The streets of Boston were coated in a thick layer of fog, personifying the way Gen had felt since waking up in that hospital bed. Nothing seemed to make sense anymore. The Matteo she had known was far more complex than she could have ever fathomed. But… so was she.

Gen had never questioned herself more than after being faced with four men wanting to use and kill her. She’d long since decided Matteo had no choice but to shoot One. She had felt the gun pressed to her temple. She had seen the boat with her own eyes… Well, eye. One told her himself that he meant to take her with him on his escape. What if he had succeeded? What would have become of her?

Genevieve tried to focus on the pounding of her feet on the pavement and the sound of her practiced breathing that no longer felt like she was sucking in ice crystals. Instead her mind continued to drift. She hadn’t spoken to Jada. For whatever reason she couldn’t understand, she found herself blaming her own sister more than the men she was used against. They were supposed to go try on dresses that night. Not go to a night club. Maybe if Louis or Matteo had known, there would have been more security posted on them. Then to learn the men didn’t even know who Gen was until Jada yelled it across the street out of spite… She didn’t want to feel this way. But she did. She was angry with Jada more so than anyone. Jada, who continued to hold more secrets than the mafia boss she’d fallen for.

Gen’s spiraling thoughts continued to interweave with each other until the noise in her mind overshadowed the rhythm of her feet. She didn’t hear the second pair of footsteps coming up behind her. Nor did she hear the person calling her name. It wasn’t until the person

literally poked her in the arm that she realized she wasn’t alone anymore.

Gen flinched and looked over to find Frankie with a boyish smirk as he ran backwards alongside her. Gen glared at him and picked up her

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pace.

“Well hello to you too then!” he called, catching up to her with ease.

“What are you doing here, Frankie? I told him I wanted to be left alone.”

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Frankie was running normally beside her now. Clearly not prepared for a morning run, he was wearing all black with a tshirt, jeans and combat boots. He also wasn’t out of breath at all or showing any signs of fatigue.

“Boss man doesn’t know I’m here,” Frankie told her, waving at a passing group of girls. He turned and started running backwards again so he could cast a lingering look at their asses.

“Wow, that’s bold of you. Did you break free from your leash or did he leave the back gate open by accident?”

Frankie turned back around. “You’re being spicy,” he commented. “Come on, I thought you’d be happy to see me, considering I am your favorite.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Gen said, cutting right suddenly to head across a street.

A moment later, Frankie clipped her heel. She stumbled slightly and he laughed. “You picked me, remember?”

Gen came to an abrupt stop. She placed her hands firmly on her hips and waited for him to circle back around so he was in front of her.

“We need to get something straight right here and now,” she said, poking him in the chest for emphasis. “I was in shock. Accardi had just blown someone’s brain all over my face and for whatever reason your fucking ugly mug was the only one without any blood on it. Maybe

you put off a murderous vibe but are a pussy when it comes to a real fight,” she suggested with a shrug while his eyes narrowed in

contempt. “I don’t know. But you are not my favorite. You are annoying. You need to go away before you make my decision a lot easier.”

Gen shoved past him and started jogging again. She rolled her eyes and sighed long when a moment later Frankie reappeared. “What

decision are you referring to, hm? Giving him a fucking chance?”

Genevieve ignored him and picked up her pace.

“He’s miserable, Genevieve,”

“Is that why you’re here? He sent you to plead for me to come back?”

“I told you he doesn’t know I’m here.”

“Then why are you here?!” she asked, stopping to face him again.

Frankie groaned. “Look. We can make a mutual agreement that we don’t particularly like each other. I prefer women who are the more submissive type and don’t make me chase them down the street, m’kay?”

“I ask again. What are you doing here?”

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“A mutual acquaintance asked me to come. I’m here to tell you that he needs you. We need you. Things have been a lot better since you’ve been in the picture. A lot of shitty stuff has been happening under the radar that Accardi isn’t telling anyone and with you around it keeps him from going postal. He’s calm, more rational. We thought he’d spiral after what happened to Valentina and Tony. Then you showed up. We’ve been talking and we all think he needs a Donna. He needs you. So,” he said, crossing his arms and widening his stance. “I’m here to ask that when you come back you don’t make him chase after you anymore when we both know you’re in love with him too.

He’s a good man, despite what he does for a living.”

“Shall I tell him you said so?” she asked, raising a brow.

“Shall I tell him you’re wearing this?” he mocked, plucking the overly large sleeve of Matteo’s hoodie. She yanked her arm away as if his

touching it would erase some of Matteo’s smell.

“Look. I haven’t made my decision. It’s a lot to take in. His way of life is… He’s dangerous and I’m not sure I can handle the kind of…”

“Oh come on, Gen, cut the act!” Frankie leaned down. “I saw the video. I saw what you did to that fucker who touched you. You’d make a

hell of a Donna. We all agree. Just don’t take two fucking years to figure that out on your own.”

“Who is this ‘we‘ you keep referring to? You and your personalities?”

He winked. “Come back and maybe I’ll let you meet them.”

“Whatever,” Gen huffed, turning to get back to her run.

“If you don’t believe me, then maybe you should talk to someone you actually like,” Frankie suggested, running alongside her again.

They entered a park and she found herself practically growling at the nuisance still beside her. “Oh yeah? And who’s that?” she asked with

a roll of her eyes.

“Him,” Frankie said, pointing to a nearby park bench.

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I love this book ughhhhhh

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