Chapter 29.1: 1967, Georgina

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Chapter 29.1: 1967, Georgina

 

"Oh jee-sus your feet are cold!" 

"Nnnmmmrrrmmm?"

Crack!

"Ow! Shit!"

"Hmmnnmmh?"

I started to rub my head, suddenly remembering where I was through the pain. Frankie laid warmly beside me on his stomach, hugging his pillow like it was a teddy bear under his cheek. The cold spot of where Frankie's foot had touched my leg was still cool. In the semi-darkness, I looked around.

The small sleeping cabin of Frankie's yacht was illuminated lightly by the streaming moon over the water of the harbor. Everything was a blue cast, reflecting on us like winter illuminations. I put my head back on my pillow, which had become chilly even after a few moments without my head. 

"Are you okay, my pretty love?" 

Frankie's gorgeously warm hand was on my stomach now, resting there. The slight light was catching the shine in his tired sea colored eyes. A trance came over me, from his young beauty. My hand stayed on my head, which I realized still had on a pale blonde wig, the curls all messed up from sleep now. It would be a hassle to reset later, but for now...

"Yes, I'm okay, baby," I whispered to him, cuddling to him and ignoring the lingering pain from whacking my head on the low ceiling. Something about the experience vaguely reminded me of sleepovers from childhood with bunkbeds. But I didn't care to think about that right now. My eyes wandered down towards the end of the bed, and saw the problem lying there.

Carefully sitting up, I curled my body under the ceiling to reach the covers that had come away from Frankie's feet. With a fling, I slung the comforter over the edge of the bed, wrapping us in warmth. 

"Mmm, thank you," he whispered to me, smiling in his sweet way. His leanly muscular arms curled around me even before I laid back down and he pushed me down into the bed as I reached my destination. As my reward, his pretty lips pressed onto mine slowly, three times. My eyes closed, just feeling their beautiful warmth and love. A gush of burning desire for him flooded my body and made my toes curl.

With familiarity, he settled his head on my chest and laid there silently. The weight of his head was a comfort to me, hearing his resting breathing. My heart fluttered like a butterfly for him.

As he fell asleep again, I tried to follow him but my brain became more awake in the dark no matter how hard I tried to go against it. Reality cast in along with the moonlight, and my eyes were open, seeing far and wide. As things dawned on me, the slower my heart beat. My breaths became few and far between.

The truth was, we weren't here on a vacation. The more my eyes opened, the more I could remember and the more I wished them to close. I wanted to go back to dreamland with Frankie, forget about all of this. But there was no escaping it.

We were hiding. I breathed deeply and remembered earlier today, how I had begged Frankie to take us some place where we couldn't be found. I had told him how unsafe I felt, told him how scared I was. He told me we would be alright, but I was sorry to realize I no longer believed him. So I had begged him to take us some place safe, grabbing his perfectly pressed button down shirt as a woman desperate. 

So he'd taken me into his arms and told me we could hide in his yacht, just for a little bit. The only thing I could answer with was a question in my dumbfounded state.

"You have a yacht?"

Therefore, we had spent all day on the Hudson, living like rich people. It felt like a dream. This experience had made me see Frankie in a new light, seeing just how much money he had. It was like someone had struck me dumb, socked me in the face or something. Or maybe that had been the cold December wind. 

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