Femme Fatale

Chapter Twenty-Five: Frank

*Trigger Warning*

Jo was sitting on the edge of her bed, looking into the barrel of Frank's gun. Frank didn't even let her dry off before marching her to the bedroom. Water dripped down her body like raindrops on a window during a thunderstorm.

Her fear had quickly dissipated and angry adrenaline was pumping through her veins. She was waiting. Waiting for Frank to let his guard down for just one millisecond. To blink his eyes closed a moment too long. To look away from her just once. That's all the time she needed to wrestle the gun away from Frank.

But deep down, Jo knew she was waiting in vain. Frank wasn't going to slip up; he was a professional killer. She was going to die today.

Jo had never seen Frank happy. There was no joy in his beautiful, stony face, and even his smirks were cheerless and sinister.

But when he had scared her in the shower, when she had yelped out of fear, his eyes danced with glee. He had loved it. The sadistic fuck fed off other people's pain. He lived for it. And Jo refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing her crumble.

"Lie down," Frank commanded.

Jo stared at him blankly in calm defiance. Fuck you.

Frank sighed dramatically. Then he pistol whipped her.

His gun cracked across Jo's cheek, and the terrible sound of metal hitting bone filled the room. Jo's head whipped to the side from the force of the blow, but she didn't make a noise and her facial expression didn't change. She turned to face Frank, staring at him as if utterly unimpressed by him.

Frank's nostrils flared angrily. His arm shot out and he wrapped his fingers around Jo's slender throat. Frank squeezed her throat like a stress ball, and her eyes began to water as her face turned red from the lack of oxygen. He pushed her down onto the bed easily.

Jo weakly clawed at Frank's large hand, but he didn't loosen his grip. He was gazing down at her with a rapturous smile, his dimples showing. Jo had never seen his dimples before.

Her bulging hazel eyes started to flutter shut. Frank was squeezing the life out of Jo with his bare hands and he felt as powerful as God. He closed his eyes and shuddered with pleasure.

Jo was seeing stars. Then, she slowly faded into a peaceful darkness. The immense pressure in her head started to give, and her body relaxed. A sense of calm rushed over her. She was in a euphoric state when Frank finally let go of her neck.

Jo came to, coughing and sputtering spastically.

"Sorry, sweetheart. You can't die on me yet. I'm just getting started," Frank told her with a maniacal smile.

Jo looked up at him, confused. She was lying naked and damp in her bed and Frank was sitting on her stomach, immobilizing her. Jo sighed, suddenly remembering that Frank was in the process of murdering her. Knowing him, it would probably be long and drawn out.

"Open your mouth," Frank commanded.

Fuck you and your mother. Jo just glared at him.

Frank placed his thumb and index finger on her cheeks and squeezed as hard as he could until Jo's mouth opened.

"Good girl," he said.

Jo hated him with every fiber of her being.

Frank shoved his pistol into Jo's mouth until it touched the back of her throat. Jo stared back at him with angry eyes, but otherwise didn't react. Frank whistled.

"I can see why Jax likes you."

He finally removed the gun from Jo's throat, and she turned her head to cough.

Frank frowned. "I was hoping you'd be more fun," he admitted in a disappointed voice.

He leaned down until he was mere centimeters from her face. "I want you to scream for me. How about a few tears? No?"

Jo continued to glower at him silently. She refused to give Frank the pleasure of seeing her scream or cry.

"You're not even going to beg? C'mon, love." Frank sighed in exasperation.

He stroked her cheek with his thumb almost lovingly. "You're tough, I'll give you that."

Jo's nose twitched. She was completely repulsed by Frank's touch, and it took all her willpower not to scrunch up her face and growl at him like a rabid animal. Her entire body was filled with murderous rage for the scum sitting on top of her.

"Ah. Now we're getting somewhere!" Frank said gleefully. He turned Jo's face to the side forcefully and whispered into her ear. "You don't like when I touch you, do you?"

Jo's jaw muscles clenched, causing a wide grin to spread across Frank's face. He licked the side of her face, starting at her jawline and licking up to her hairline. Jo could taste the bile rising up from her throat, but she swallowed it down.

Frank chuckled darkly. He placed his gun on the nightstand, just out of Jo's reach. The motherfucker was teasing her. She turned to face him, and sure enough, his light blue eyes were gleaming mischievously.

Jo narrowed her eyes at him. "I take it Jax doesn't know about this," she said hoarsely. She cursed her damaged vocal chords for making her sound weak.

"Of course not," Frank said with a grin. "Don't you worry, sweetheart. After I rape and murder you, I'm going to make it look like your dear brother saved you. The boys will be none the wiser."

Jo closed her eyes and tried to steady her breathing. The bile was creeping up her throat again and her body was starting to tremble involuntarily. She could feel Frank's dick get hard as it pressed against her stomach.

No, no, no. Please God, no.

Frank grabbed hold of Jo's wrists and crossed them above her head. He held them down easily with his left arm. Frank was so much stronger than her, and Jo had never felt so powerless.

Without warning, Frank shoved two bone dry fingers into her pussy. Jo's eyes flew open as she gasped and writhed in pain. It felt as if a scorpion was stinging her center, and tears began to form in Jo's eyes. Frank shoved a third finger into her violently, and she bit her lip to stifle the scream attempting to escape from her mouth. A single tear spilled down Jo's cheek, and Frank lapped it up with his raspy tongue slowly.

"Mmm," he moaned. He kissed her on the cheek, then straightened up. Frank started to unbuckle his belt and Jo just stared at him in terror.

Frank removed his belt and tossed it to the floor. "If you scream for me, I promise I'll be gentle."

"Fuck you."

Frank shrugged. "Suit yourself."

As he unzipped his pants, the bedroom door was kicked open with a loud crash.

"What the-" Frank said, turning towards the commotion.

A gunshot rang out, and Frank grunted in pain as he fell onto the bed, his blood splashing everywhere.

Without a moment's hesitation, without even looking towards the door, Jo grabbed the gun from the nightstand and straddled Frank.

He was gasping in pain as blood gushed from a gaping hole on the right side of his chest. Jo took the opportunity to shove the gun into his open mouth and down his throat.

Frank's eyes widened and it was Jo's turn to smile. "Goodbye, you sick fuck."

She pulled the trigger.

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