Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
Frankie
I hum a little song under my breath as I rifle through the clothes in my bag.
For the life of me, I can’t figure out why Maverick is so pissed.
All I did was speak with the speed date organizer after the event so that I could set up dates with our matches.
We’re supposed to be having fun, but he looks prepared to set the cruise ship on fire to get out of this evening.
I’ll just have to keep the matches out of reach.
He rubs the back of his neck as I try to decide what to wear. “You’re supposed to be seeing things from our side of the fence. If you’re skipping all the Sinner activities, how can we achieve that?”
I fling a dress onto the bed. “Does this look too slutty? I don’t want him to think he’s actually got a chance, but I want him to want me.”
“Are you even listening to me?” He glances at the bed. “Don’t wear that.”
“I’m listening, but that doesn’t mean I agree with you.
Besides, we still have four days on the water.
I’m sure I’ll be forced to kill again, don’t you worry.
” I roll my eyes and pluck a baby-blue romper from the pile of clothes in my bag.
“What about this? It’ll give some leg without revealing everything. ”
“Yeah, the color goes well with your eyes.” Maverick sighs and goes to the closet.
“What about Ice? Have you thought about how this Normie woman might affect him? He probably sees this as a real date. Are you going to break it to him that we’re all just having a bit of fun?
And what about the guy you’re seeing? At least I’m not stringing anyone along. ”
“Oh, you’ll have a date too. What fun would this be if you weren’t in on the joke?”
He walks toward the bed with a pair of khaki shorts and a gray polo. “You can’t be serious.”
My lip curls. “Neither can you with that grandpa outfit. If you must wear a polo, at least pick one with some color.”
I go to the closet and look through his clothes, but most of the nicer things are also very drab. I feel like I’m rooting through my mother’s wardrobe.
“Jesus, could you borrow something from a friend? What about that British guy? He’s always well-dressed.”
“We’re roughly the same height, but he’s a bit bulkier. I’ll look like I’m playing dress up with Daddy’s clothes if I borrow anything from him.”
“What about the really crass dude who wears the fun Hawaiian prints?”
“Bennett?”
“Yeah, that guy.” I grab the romper and head toward the bathroom. “Go see if you can wear something of his. The funnier, the better. I need a good laugh.”
“No fucking way,” he says, but the cabin door opens and closes seconds later. Even if he won’t wear a silly shirt, maybe he’s at least off to find something presentable.
Not that it matters. Ice Pig and I handpicked our dates, but Maverick’s date was handpicked by me, and I can’t wait for him to meet her.
I smile to myself as I strip off my clothes.
After dressing and touching up my makeup, Maverick still hasn’t returned. He’d better not back out of this. I’m toying with the idea of letting him leave the ship without handcuffs, but if he spoils my fun, that could change.
The list of people I’m willing to turn over to King is shrinking by the minute. When I first stepped foot on this boat, I was prepared to shout every name and pull back every curtain. Now I’m finding it difficult to imagine doing that to any of these people. Even Jim.
“Remember why you’re here, girl,” I whisper to myself as I slip a pair of dangly silver earrings into my ears. “This is your chance. You have to give them Jim.”
And isn’t that why I’ve thrown myself so fully into this mess? Jim made a promise, and if I hold up my end of the bargain, he’ll be forced to hold up his.
I drop my strewn makeup into a small bag, then cut off the lights as I leave the room.
The dark hallways have started to feel more familiar to me than the bright spaces for the Normies, so I’m glad we’ll be spending the evening on Normie turf.
While I’m having fun, I can’t let myself fall too deep into this den of iniquity.
After a quick elevator ride, I’m deposited on one of the upper decks. I still have a half hour to spare before I’m supposed to meet Ice Pig and our dates at Boogie Woogie Woo—the ship’s version of a 70s night club—so I stroll to the side deck to take in some sea air.
A man stands a few feet away from the door, and when the light catches his side profile, I realize it’s Jim.
His hands clutch the railing as he looks out at the black ocean.
Shadows cling to the few wrinkles on his face.
Despite knowing who he is and what he’s capable of, I find myself almost sorry for him. He lookssad.
The door snicks shut with a click, and Jim turns at the sound. When he sees me, he smiles. “Hello, dear child. Where’s your friend this evening?”
You mean my babysitter . That’s what I want to say, but the venom doesn’t fill my fangs the way I’d hoped. Taking a jab right now feels...wrong.
And I can’t put my finger on why.
“Unless he backs out, Maverick will be joining me shortly for a date,” I say instead.
The sadness in his eyes is replaced by a glint of something else. “Oh, a date? I didn’t realize you two would so easily jump the hurdles in your path, but I’m pleased.”
My eyelids nearly retract into my skull as I realize what he thinks I meant. “No, no. You misunderstand. We aren’t going on a date together. We’re going on a date with others. Well, technically, a triple date.”
“I find the act of lovemaking more pleasurable when it’s one on one, but if you enjoy group activities, I’m happy Maverick and your third are on board.”
Jesus fuck. I’d try to set him straight, but I’ll probably end up in a bukkake ring if I keep going.
“I’m just glad you’re finding things to enjoy on this trip,” he adds.
“You’re special, Frankie. Untouchable beyond your own understanding.
When we dock at port on the final day, you’ll face a decision unlike any you’ve faced before.
” He takes a deep breath, his smile fading.
“And when you make that decision, I want you to do it with your heart instead of your head.”
I scoff and join him at the railing. “That’s how you get into trouble, Madigan.
The heart wants. It feeds on irrationality and chaos.
The brain needs. It runs on logic and willpower.
” I lean my forearms on the railing and shake my head.
“You can live with only needs, but you can’t survive on wants. And there are?—”
“Laws,” he says, finishing my sentence. He nods his head and smiles again. “Yes, there are laws, aren’t there?”
“Right.”
“Where there is good, there is bad.”
“Exactly.”
“And those two things can’t coexist in the same space, can they?”
I shake my head softly. “They cannot.”
“Can you blame an old man for wanting the impossible? Some of us haven’t mastered thinking with their heads.
” He offers a light laugh, then stands to his full height and pats my shoulder.
“I hope your evening is wonderful, Frankie. Thank you for holding up your end of the bargain. You can trust that I will do my part as well.”
“I’m counting on it,” I say, but as he retreats into the ship’s interior, I’m not so sure I mean it.
I lean against the bar and nurse a lukewarm beer, checking my watch for the third time in five minutes. Ice Pig and Maverick still have a few minutes before they’re due to arrive, but our dates are already on the dance floor. I can’t keep making excuses.
The song shifts from a current pop tune to something slow, and the people file off the dance floor and crowd the bar.
Only a young couple remains beneath the glittering disco ball.
They look into each other’s eyes, completely unaware that someone is likely being murdered on this ship at this very moment.
I saw the Sinners’ evening itinerary, and if I had to miss an event, I’m glad it was the one titled Conga Line.
My date slides against me, his hand wandering over my waist as he yells for the bartender to bring him a beer. The two women for Maverick and Ice crowd me on the other side.
“Where are our boys?” the brunette asks in her nasal voice. “I wanna meet the man of the hour!”
Because there were so many men and so few women, not every lady had the chance to meet every man in our allotted hour of speed dating. Rhonda here was very displeased about missing out on Maverick, so I figured I’d help her out.
“They said they’d be here. Maybe they want to show up fashionably late?” I shrug my shoulders.
“I’m not so sure about the fashionable part,” Rhonda says with a curl of her lip.
I follow her gaze to the doorway, where Maverick and Ice Pig step into the swirling laser lights. Ice hasn’t changed a thing. He still sports the same t-shirt and jeans he wore earlier, complete with an unknown stain just below his left nipple. Maverick, on the other hand, is a new man.
He strolls toward the bar with a confidence he has no business displaying while wearing such an atrocious ensemble.
He seems to have taken my advice to heart, as he now sports a loud Hawaiian shirt that looks a couple sizes too small.
He’s left it unbuttoned, revealing peeks of his toned chest and abs.
The bright-pink board shorts and flip-flops with socks just seals the deal.
But the hair. The hair is like nothing I could have conjured in my wildest dreams. The perfect hard part has been cast aside for the most hideous and unbecoming pompadour I’ve ever witnessed. And is that a gold cross dangling from his left ear?
Maybe it’s the hideous outfit or maybe it’s the beer, but I start laughing and can’t stop. By the time they reach us, my mascara has probably cut black tracks down my face from the tears, but the laughter pours out of me. He’ll be furious when he sees me losing it, and I don’t care.
But he isn’t. As he draws nearer, he spins and holds out his hand with a playful grin. I step forward to take it, but Rhonda gets between us. That’s when I remember he isn’t my date.
“I didn’t have the pleasure of meeting you at the event,” he says over the music. “The name’s Chester Copperbottom.”
“Copperpot,” I correct.
He nods and turns back to Rhonda. “That’s what I said. Copperpot.”
“I thought you got lost while looking for One-Eyed Willy’s treasure,” Rhonda says with a laugh, and that’s when the realization dawns in Maverick’s eyes.
He pins me with a look before embracing the chaos. “Yeah, my mom loved that movie.” He raises a fist. “Goonies never say die.”
I’m shocked he knows a movie that’s more from my era than his. Shocked, but not displeased. “You must do an excellent truffle shuffle,” I say. “Why don’t you get on the dance floor and show us?”
“With pleasure, but I never dance alone.” He reaches past Rhonda and offers his hand. When she huffs, he spares her a glance. “Sorry, but you aren’t my type. That guy looks interested, though.” He points to my date as he drags me onto the dance floor.
When he pulls me against him, I finally get a good look at his eyes. That’s when I realize something is very wrong.