Frank Castle

Me: Hey, this is Dave’s daughter. He gave me your number just in case, since they’re out of town. He said you could help me if I needed anything.

I stared at my phone, waiting for the little three dots to appear. Nothing. Then: Seen.

Wow. Okay. Tough crowd...

My dad had always talked about Frank Castle like he was family. They’d met in the military years ago, served together, and apparently gone through enough shit that they’d stayed best friends long after they left.

Frank had been around when I was little. I remembered him sitting at our kitchen table with my dad, drinking coffee and barely saying a word while Dad did all the talking. He always looked tired. Sometimes there was a bruise on his face or a cut on his knuckles, and whenever I asked what happened, he’d just say, “Nothing.”

As I got older, I saw him less and less. High school meant maybe once or twice a year. Then college happened, and I stopped coming home as often.

Three years. That was how long it had been since I’d actually seen him.

He didn’t answer for two days. That’s when I sighed and typed again.

Me: Sorry to bother you, but my car broke down. Could you take a look at it?

I honestly expected another seen. Instead, my phone buzzed.

Frank: 👍🏻

I blinked at the screen.That was it? “Seriously?” I tossed my phone onto the couch and stared at the ceiling.

Okay. So he was a complete asshole. Great. He hadn’t even said when he was coming. I went inside, changed into sweatpants, and completely forgot about him. Until someone knocked on the door.

I opened it. Frank stood there.

He looked almost like I remembered. His hair was shorter, his beard was darke, and there were new scars along his hands and near his jaw.

His expression made it very clear that fixing my car was somewhere near the bottom of his list of things he wanted to do tonight.

“Your dad said you’d probably get yourself into trouble,” he muttered.

I raised an eyebrow. “Nice to see you too.”

He sighed. “Where’s the car?”

“Wow. No hug?” He gave me a blank look.

“Car.”

I stepped aside.

“Driveway.” He walked past me without another word.

I followed, trying not to smile. “Dad really sent you?”

“Yeah.”

“You could’ve said no.”

“I know.”

That made me stop. “You didn’t want to come?”

Frank glanced back at me. “I was having dinner.”

I laughed. “Oh, sorry. I interrupted your very important dinner.”

“You did.”

“Good to know.” He opened the hood of my car and stared inside. For a moment, neither of us spoke. Then he sighed again. “This is gonna take a while.”