The Long Journey Ahead

I don't think I ever mentioned the name of the tattoo shop Frank and I work at. It's kind of graphic, in my opinion any way, but it's perfect for what business this is.

The 'Screaming Ink Tattoo Shop'. Isn't it a wonderfully scary name? No? I think it is.

I rolled onto my back, still in bed. Today's my day off and I really didn't want to think about work. I sound like a workaholic mentioning that place so much.

Then again, being practically obsessed with my job classifies me as a workaholic. I like my job and I make surprisingly good money. I'm not saying I'm rich and I can afford my own place but I have been paying Mrs. Iero back for letting me live with her. On occasion, I'll offer to buy the groceries, pay bills, or even take the three of us out to dinner.

I’m not tooting my own horn but since I work full time, I definitely make more money than Frank and I don't need to save my money for anything. Frank has college in his future.

I hated laying in bed thinking. Thinking always made my mind wander to a certain someone I shouldn't be thinking about. Rolling my eyes to no one in particular, I went to the bathroom to ready myself for the day.

After I used the toilet and brushed my teeth, I brushed through my still red hair. My black roots were showing heavily. I need to go get red hair dye today.

Downstairs, the door slammed loudly. "Jes! Time for touch-ups!"

Well I’m lucky. I descended the stairs, seeing Casey with a box of dye in her hands. "Why are you here?" I asked suspicion in my voice.

The door slammed once again. Frank stormed in, his cheeks rosy from the coldness outside. He raised a finger at me. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Tell you what?" I wondered aloud.

He pushed Casey out of his way, almost making her lose her balance. I frowned at his aggressiveness. "Don't push her."

He disregarded my comment, advancing on me. "You didn't tell me he could have killed you! We can lock him up!"

My eyes bugged out of my head and I stopped breathing. My chest was hurting but I didn't care. I sneered at Casey. "You told him."

"I'm sorry!" she squeaked. Did she feel it too? I felt the calm before this storm.

"What the hell?! I trusted you!"

"Casey, get out," Frank said in an eerie calm voice.

"But Frank-"

He repeated himself. "Get out."

Casey pouted before heading towards the door, leaving me alone with a murderous Franklin Anthony Iero Junior. This evil side of Frank scared me almost to death. I've never seen him this angry and I had no idea what he was capable of when his rage got the best of him.

If it was possible, Frank walked towards me even more. My breaths were coming out shallow and uneven as he invaded my breathing space.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

I blinked many times before the courage built its way to my voice. "You didn't ask." Oh, fuck. Now is not a good time to be a smart ass. Getting myself out of the situation, I slipped out of my prison and headed for the stairs.

"Don't walk away from me!" Frank spat.

I giggled. "Oh I think I will."

"Fine. Go you crazy bitch!"

I almost stopped when he said that but I kept my head held high and walked into my room. I locked the door listening for any footsteps. Once the coast was clear, I crawled into bed and painfully sighed.

I'm a crazy bitch now? What did I say or do for him to give me that title? Okay I might have gotten Frank angry by walking away from the argument but I can do that! He can't come bursting through the door and yell at me for not telling him! That’s my business and it was my secret.

What ever happened to us being good friends? I would say best friends but best friends know everything about each other. I sure as hell don't know everything about Frank and he doesn't know everything about me.

But why all the negative emotions? I don't like fighting with him. He took me in when he could've reported me as a runaway. I guess I should stop being stubborn and just make up with him.

I grumbled; unlocking my door and swinging it open. I met Frank's piercing eyes. We stared at each other for the longest time. I was afraid to make any sudden movements. He still looked angry.

"Here's your letter," he said in a gruff voice. He placed the letter in my hand before stalking away to his room, slamming the door so hard one of the picture frames in the hallway fell down to the soft carpet.

I sighed, crawling back into my bed. Time to read the only connection I have with my sisters.