If you feel so empty, so used up, so let down...start a riot

The anger ran deep, welling out of him with each every breath, filling his lungs, beating his heart, coursing his blood. Yet deeper than the anger, ran the real cause of his emotional upheaval, deeper than any pain caused by anyone ever before. Frankie, his Frankie, had betrayed him. Of course, Yates couldn’t entirely blame her. He was the one who had pushed her away, not because he didn’t want her or the child (though he had to admit, he was not father material). He was reeling from the shock- but it had been the worst reaction to have. He had hurt her first, and that meant it was inevitable that it would come back to haunt him.

She’d gone out for something to make her feel better, and had made love with someone else while she was out there.

At least she had the courtesy to confess, to tell him herself before rumours spread and he learned from someone else. She’d cried, and the regret had been laid out for him to see. What choice had he, but to forgive her? Whether or not he’d ever admit as much, he loved her. He had taken her into his arms, softly kissed her hair, whispered that he would forgive her. He had asked only for a name, and in her state, Frankie hadn’t thought to withhold it from him. Personally, that was fine by Yates.

He lit a cigarette as he walked, holding the stick of nicotine between his fingers, dragging lightly on the small roll. It wasn’t what he really needed to calm himself- walking into a potential fight, he wanted his wits about him. His nerves were buzzing angrily under his skin, and he felt the need to really release all of the emotions he’d been holding back around Frankie. He knew about the history of abuse in her life, and he didn’t want to be like her father. He didn’t ever want to raise a hand to her in that way. Lately, he had to admit, it had been harder than usual. Turning onto the street, he approached the bar where Frankie had said she’d picked up the older man.

Once inside the dim, smoky, bar it didn’t take Yates long to figure out which guy ‘Hunter Collins’ was. His buddies were all laughing, drinking, and asking about the ‘little hottie’ that he’d scored last week. He could hear the guy talking about how she was probably waiting for his call, and wouldn’t she be surprised when she never got it? Yates could feel his blood begin to boil in his veins, knowing that had Frankie not desired to maintain a relationship with him, she would have been waiting for that call. He cleared his throat.
“Hey, Hunter- maybe you should forget about her. Do you even remember her name?”

The other man turned around, a smirk on his rather handsome features.
“Forgetting her would take out half of the fun. She had a masculine name…Frankie, I think. Yeah, but there wasn’t anything masculine about that girl, if you know what I mean!” The friends of Hunter all laughed, making perverted sounds. Yates was the only one who was unamused.
“Yo, Hunter, was she any good?” Yates wanted to kill these guys for talking about Francesca like she was nothing more than a piece of tail. He clenched his teeth.
“Man, was she! The worst part, though, was that she kept whispering someone else’s name. But, the way she writhed underneath me…Mmm. She was good alright, maybe a little too good. She felt like she’d had a lot of practice, like a proper little whore. Actually, maybe I should look her up? She looked like a girl who is up for anything.”

“You stay away from her!” That loud, furious voice ripped away from him before he could stop it, but he wouldn’t take it back. Even if he could. Hunter and his crew all turned very surprised looks to Yates, and he clenched his fist.
“Ahhh.” Hunter crooned, leaning closer to Yates. “Her little betrayed boyfriend came to defend her cheating, whoring little honor. I wonder how he’d feel if I mentioned that I was the one who heard her whisper your name in that tone of voice.” Before he could even think, he had the collar of the older man, pulling him close.
“Leave. Her. The frick. Alone.” Hunter pushed himself away from Yates, laughing.
“Why? She cheated on you once.”
“She’s carrying my child, you prick! I saw the bruises you left on her skin, and I swear to god if you ever touch her again, I’ll kill you!”

Hunter blanched, stumbling away from Yates.
“I banged a pregnant whore? You sure that the kid is yours? For all you know, she’s been screwing men behind your back for a long time, the little bi-“ Yates’ fist landed somewhere on Hunter’s cheekbone, sending him staggering back.“I told you to stop.”

With a roar, Hunter flung himself at Yates, and the two continued their scuffle on the floor, fighting until two very strong bouncers separated them. Hunter wiped the streaming blood from his nose and mouth, his face and chest would be horrifically bruise the next morning. Yates was sporting a cut above his eyebrow, and a bruise that spread down and around his eye. As far as he was concerned, he had won. As the bouncer dragged him out, Yates grinned, and spit on Hunter, shrugged the bouncer off, and walked back to school in much better spirits than when he had left.