Chapter 194: Frank and Fiona Reach an Agreement
"Guns? You mean real guns?"
Carl was at that age—full of restless curiosity and destructive impulses.
Naturally, something like firearms fascinated him.
But fascination didn't mean understanding.
He had no real grasp of what guns were for.
Or more accurately—
He didn't yet understand the weight of a life.
"Yes. Real guns."
William nodded, flashing a bright, easy smile.
"Cool. I like it." Carl grinned, a little dazed.
"But listen," William added, crouching down. "This stays between us. Our little secret. You don't tell your sister. Deal?"
He held out his pinky.
Carl immediately hooked his own pinky with William's, sealing the promise with a little shake.
Deal made.
William ruffled his hair. "I'll come find you later. I need to check on your sister first."
With that, he stood and headed toward the basement.
The moment he stepped down—
Fiona's voice exploded through the space.
"Get out! Just get out! I don't care where you go—just leave! Take Frank with you too!"
She was glaring at Peggy like she wanted to tear her apart.
If looks could kill, Peggy would've died a thousand times over.
This time—
Fiona had truly snapped.
Cooking meth in her house?
Under her lease?
That made her legally responsible.
This wasn't some minor offense—it was a serious crime.
Even as a first-time offender, she'd be looking at years in prison.
Her life had only just started getting on track—
And Peggy was dragging her straight back toward ruin.
"Alright, alright! Shut up already! You're giving me a headache!" Peggy snapped back.
Without the burden of pancreatic cancer weighing her down, her health had been improving day by day.
Her voice carried strength again.
She had her suspicions about what had changed—but pancreatic cancer wasn't something you casually assumed had vanished.
Grabbing the packed bags in her hands, she turned and left the basement.
Fiona scanned the room, making sure nothing remained that could be tied to meth production.
Then she sank to the floor, covering her face, overwhelmed.
How the hell was she supposed to explain this explosion to the police?
As Peggy passed William, she paused and threw out a cold remark:
"I really don't know how you put up with a bitch like her."
Then she headed upstairs.
William watched her leave, mildly speechless.
This family… was something else.
He walked over and crouched beside Fiona.
"You okay?"
Fiona shook her head, then leaned into him, wrapping her arms around him as if searching for comfort.
William patted her back, expression calm.
This mess hadn't been his doing—it was pure accident.
He felt no particular attachment to it.
"Alright, get up. Check everything again. If the police show up and find something, we're in trouble."
Fiona nodded immediately.
She got up and carefully inspected the basement again.
Truthfully, Peggy had already cleaned up most of it.
There wasn't much left to find.
"What do I say if the police ask about the explosion?" Fiona asked, tension still in her voice.
"Just say Carl messed up a chemistry experiment," William replied casually. "You think cops understand chemistry?"
Fiona paused—
Then nodded.
It made sense.
Soon, the two of them left the basement.
Right on cue, the police arrived.
Peggy had already disappeared without a trace.
Officers Tony and Buck asked a few questions.
Fiona repeated William's explanation.
And with Tony's clear bias in her favor—
That was enough.
The matter was dropped.
But one thing still gnawed at Fiona.
Who the hell had called the police—
And reported meth production here?
The more Fiona thought about it, the angrier she became.
This hard-earned, fragile life she had finally built—
She now guarded it like a crazed mother hen protecting her chicks.
Anyone who dared threaten it…
She'd peck them to death.
Meanwhile, over at the Alibi—
Frank sat at the bar, happily sipping his drink.
In his mind, this time Peggy was definitely getting locked up again.
But just as he was savoring that thought—
A voice suddenly sounded right behind him.
"Frank! You were the one who called the cops, weren't you?"
Peggy.
Frank's whole body jolted. His hand shook, spilling beer across the counter.
He forced himself to calm down, turned around, and plastered on a smile uglier than a grimace.
"Mom… what are you talking about? Calling the cops? Me?"
But Peggy was his mother.
There was no way she couldn't tell when he was lying.
Without hesitation—
Slap!
Her hand cracked across his face.
"You stinking piece of rotten cheese trash! You dared to call the police?!"
"Fuck! I'll beat you to death today, you useless sack of shit!"
She didn't hold back—punches and kicks rained down on him.
And Frank, just as she said, was completely useless in front of her.
He didn't dare fight back.
All he could do was raise his arms, trying to block while grabbing at her wrists.
"Stop! Stop! Stop! It wasn't me! Mom! Stop hitting me!"
Peggy ignored him entirely and kept swinging.
Left with no choice, Frank bolted out of the Alibi.
Even with a limp, he was still faster than the aging Peggy.
That was the only reason he managed to escape.
Only after putting some distance between them did he finally breathe again.
But the more he thought about it—
The worse it felt.
He had to find a way to escape Peggy for good.
Meanwhile—
After the police left, Fiona stayed at 2119, cleaning up the basement.
William didn't linger either—he returned to 2118 to rest.
A few hours passed.
Sweaty and exhausted, Fiona finally came up from the stuffy basement.
That's when she spotted Frank—
Walking cautiously, glancing over his shoulder every few steps to make sure Peggy wasn't behind him.
Before long, he reached the front.
"Frank!"
Fiona called out, stopping him just as he was about to go inside.
"What?" he snapped impatiently, clearly on edge.
He looked like Peggy might jump out of nowhere at any second.
"We need to figure out a way to get Peggy out of here," Fiona said seriously.
Frank had expected something else—
But the moment he heard that, his eyes lit up.
This?
This was exactly what he wanted.
"I agree! One hundred percent agree!" he said immediately, like he'd just grabbed onto a lifeline.
"You got any ideas?"
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