[ He's killed men to find her; with her disappearance following the suspicious events on the ship, Frank had resorted to his own classic methods of gathering information, scouring the city through the dingy streets of the Down where the most gruesome scum lurked, where lips were often loose if you had the right methods of persuasion. There'd been little he could find, and the blood that stained his hands from the process was only a brief satisfaction in knowing there was one less bastard out there to cause trouble.
It was a hard judgement to cast to say he'd given up, even if the bruised knuckles were more of mere routine these days than a signal of any new gathered information. He'd known she was still there, somewhere, but he lacked the means to reach her with his limited hands.
To say his heart was near ripping out against his bones and skin from its frantic beat upon hearing her would be an understatement. He'd been at Wynonna's, but with the message, he'd found himself tugging his clothes out of the dryer, not nearly as blood stained as they'd been last night, dressing himself as he rang a call straight through to her, not bothering with the text. ]
Karen. [ It's a scratchy sound, ached and trapped. ] Where are you?
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It was a hard judgement to cast to say he'd given up, even if the bruised knuckles were more of mere routine these days than a signal of any new gathered information. He'd known she was still there, somewhere, but he lacked the means to reach her with his limited hands.
To say his heart was near ripping out against his bones and skin from its frantic beat upon hearing her would be an understatement. He'd been at Wynonna's, but with the message, he'd found himself tugging his clothes out of the dryer, not nearly as blood stained as they'd been last night, dressing himself as he rang a call straight through to her, not bothering with the text. ]
Karen. [ It's a scratchy sound, ached and trapped. ] Where are you?