Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
Frankie
R ealization doesn’t dawn on me until I’m seated at breakfast the following morning. I spent last night in a haze, wrapped in my lover’s arms. The fog lifts as I look down at a human ear resting atop a bed of scrambled eggs. Faced with a literal appendage on my plate, I can’t pretend anymore.
I fucked a serial killer.
Eve sets down a glass of orange juice, then grimaces at her plate.
She received a finger, which she flicks off the eggs before scooping up a yellow forkful.
Across from me, Kindra looks down at what I think is a nose.
The skin has shriveled, making it hard to discern exactly what it is.
She grimaces, and I’m glad to see I’m not the only one who can’t stomach this chef’s particular brand of what the fuck.
“Where’s Cat?” I pluck up a strip of bacon, which seems safe enough, I guess. “She was sick last night, and I wanted to check in on her.”
Kindra pushes her plate to the side. “She must be feeling better, because she went with Jim and Ezra to set up for today’s big event. The Normies will have a day on a private island, where they’ll get to watch a pirate show.”
I spit the glob of meat onto my plate and cover it with a napkin before pushing the plate away. That definitely wasn’t pork. “Sounds fun. Sign me up.”
“You’re already signed up, honey,” Eve says. “Who do you think is putting on the pirate show?”
I meant sign me up to sit on a private island where I can sip Mai Tais while watching some riveting entertainment, but it was stupid of me to wish for something so simple.
“Where’s Maverick this morning?” Eve asks. “You two are usually connected at the hip. The man never lets you out of his sight.”
“He wanted to sleep in. Bennett drugged him last night, and he’s got a touch of a hangover.”
Kindra shakes her head and rolls her eyes. “It’s always something with that one. If he wasn’t Ezra’s brother and my best friend’s boyfriend, I’d kick him off the boat. If he ever comes at you sideways, just mention the pineapple incident and he’ll shut up.”
Before I can ask about this incident, the dining hall doors swing open, and Maverick and Bennett shuffle into the fray.
I wish I could muster Kindra’s annoyance at Bennett, but I’m kind of thankful he drugged Maverick like he was at his first rave.
If he hadn’t, I never would have seen him in a new light.
And nowwe get along so well that I let him get on a first name basis with my fucking vagina . Jesus fuck, what is wrong with me?
My mother was right to worry. I don’t like where my head is at right now.
Maverick sits beside Kindra and across from me, and Bennett sits beside him. Despite joining us for breakfast, they don’t have anything to eat. I glance back at the serving station.
“Don’t worry about us,” Bennett says as he realizes where I’m looking. “We ate with the Normies so that we could avoid Chef’s little surprises.”
“Thanks for inviting the rest of us,” Eve quips.
Bennett grins. “Don’t mention it.”
“How are you feeling?” I ask Maverick as I push my glass of water toward him. “Drink this. Hydration helps.”
“Don’t fucking mommy him,” Bennett says with a hard eye roll. “I mean, you’re old enough to be his mother, but you don’t have to act like it. That just makes the sex weird.”
I bite the inside of my cheek to stop the scream from breaking out of my chest, but I can’t contain my voice. “Maverick! You told him we had sex ?”
“No, but you just did,” Bennett says.
Okay, now I want to strangle him.
I feel the girls’ eyes on me, but I’m too embarrassed to look up. Instead, I stare down at my eggs and wonder how long it would take me to choke to death on them. Probably a lot less time than it will take for me to squash this developing infatuation with someone I absolutely cannot be with.
An arm wraps around my shoulder, and Eve pulls my ear to her mouth. “Don’t let him get to you, honey. Bennett is a special brand of stupid, but his heart’s in the right place. Still...if you want him to stop, you know what to do.”
“Now, now,” Bennett says. “No secrets between friends. Say it loud enough for the entire class to hear.”
I clear my throat and pin Bennett with a glare. “She was just telling me about an interesting incident with a pineapple. I’d love to hear the dirty details.”
Kindra, Eve, and Maverick cover their mouths to hide how pleased they are with my little jab. I’m being so serious, though. I want to know what the fuck the deal is, and why the mention of a pineapple has Bennett’s cheeks turning seven different shades of red.
“It’s not unusual,” Kindra says through a giggle.
Eve loses it now, uncovering her mouth and letting out a musical laugh. “The fuck it isn’t. It’s the m ost unusual thing.”
“Says the woman who’s enamored with a chick who shoves objects into her ass and shits them out for fun.
” Bennett scoffs and stands from the table.
“Fuck all of you. I’ll see you assholes at the event, where Cat and I will soundly beat all of your asses in whatever games Jim has up his shitty sleeve. ”
He storms off with his fists clenched at his sides. We sober as we watch him leave.
“I think we hurt his feelings,” I mutter.
Kindra scoffs. “He’d have to have feelings if we wanted to hurt them.”
“You guys are too hard on him sometimes. He fucked a pineapple.” Maverick shrugs. “So what? Women fuck weird shit all the time, and we say fuck all about it.”
“I once read a book about a woman who liked fucking a snowman,” I offer. “I guess a guy fucking a pineapple isn’t that weird.” The unwanted images fill my brain, and I shake my head. “No, never mind. It’s definitely weird.”
Eve’s eyes widen, and she turns her head toward me. “Wait, back up to the lady fucking the snowman. What did she do, craft an icicle dick?”
“No, she used a carrot.”
Kindra laughs and stands from the table. “I don’t know if that’s better or worse, but it doesn’t matter. If we don’t get a move on, we won’t have time to get into character before we head to the island.”
The rest of the group stands, and we follow her out of the dining hall. I pick up the pace to walk beside her.
“Character?” I ask.
“Bennett brought our outfits to the room after you’d gone to breakfast,” Maverick says behind me. “They’re certainly...interesting, if his description is to be believed. Very authentic.”
“Great,” I mumble under my breath. “Can’t wait.”
We walk as a group, parting ways as we exit the elevator on the Sinner level. I shuffle along beside Maverick, trying to keep pace. His legs are so long that he takes one stride for three of mine. Thankfully, he notices that I’m practically running to keep up, so he slows down.
“About last night...” he says, and my blood runs cold. Sure, part of me wants to talk about what happened, but a much larger part of me wants to pretend that everything is normal. “No one has seen Ice Pick since we were with him at the lounge, and I’m starting to worry.”
Okay, not what I expected to talk about, but I think we’re on the same page about pretending things are normal, at least. “He’s an adult, isn’t he? Is there a reason we should be concerned?”
Maverick smirks and shakes his head as he lets us into the cabin. “I’m not so sure. Maybe it’s nothing.”
He stops beside the closet and pulls two garment bags from inside. God, I hope it’s not another fucking spacesuit. I’ll roast to death in this sunshine. He hands one bag to me, then goes to the bed, where he drops his bag and sighs.
I place my hand on his arm until he looks at me. “It seems to be bugging you, so it’s definitely something. The girl he went on a date with seemed nice. Are you worried she might be a fed?”
“I’m not sure. It’s just...it’s not like Ice to go missing at breakfast. He loves food.
Bennett and I ate with the Normies, and I didn’t see him, and you guys were at the Sinners’ breakfast, and he wasn’t there either.
” He leans down and unzips his bag, then stands up. “What the fuck? Jim can’t be serious.”
I drape my bag over my arm and step closer so that I can peer around his tall frame.
Inside the bag rests a pirate costume, but it’s so much more extravagant than I pictured.
I expected a cheap getup, with a plastic-hook hand or maybe a fake parrot, but this?
As he pulls the long captain’s coat from the bag, I’m in awe.
This sort of detailing must have cost a fortune.
I hurry to open my bag, excited by what I might find.
My mother wouldn’t let me participate in trick-or-treat when I was growing up, and dress-up wasn’t a game in our household.
She sent me skydiving at five, but Halloween was off-limits.
Probably because the chameleon aspect of our lives wasn’t something to play with, but still, it’s exciting to finally wear a costume.
My ensemble is just as detailed and expensive-looking—and feeling—as Maverick’s attire.
I begin stripping immediately. The sooner I can slide my body into this outfit, the better.
I start with the top—a white linen shirt that drapes off my shoulders and trails down to flowing sleeves.
The skirt is to die for, with all its silky purple ruffles.
It stops at my upper thighs in the front and trails to my calves in the back.
I turn to see how Maverick’s getting along, and my jaw nearly hits the floor. He’s gotten as far as the loose brown pants and ankle-high boots, and honestly, he could stop right there. He looks like he walked out of a period piece, and nothing is sexier than a man right out of 1829.
“I feel like an idiot,” he laments as he lifts the white shirt from the bag. The frills at the ends of the sleeves give me a chuckle.
I pluck the black corset from my garment bag and cinch it around my waist. “If it’s any consolation, you certainly don’t look like an idiot.” I give him my back. “Little help?”
He steps behind me, and his cologne teases my senses with hints of leather and sin. His fingers work quickly, pulling the strings until my rib cage shrinks three sizes. With each tug, he asks if it’s too tight. It is, but that’s okay. I want to look snatched.
With the last stay in place, I grab the black knee-high boots and a feathered cap that I’m a bit iffy about. Hats and I don’t tend to mesh well. Maybe once my makeup is on, it won’t be so bad, so I hurry to do that while Maverick busies himself with the rest of his outfit.
While I don’t normally wear much makeup, this event calls for some flair.
I pull out the big guns and set to work, contouring my face until I look like a starlet.
I finish off with some fake lashes and red lipstick.
After running a curling wand through my hair to give it some oomph, I try the hat again.
I’m surprised when I look in the mirror and like what I see. This doesn’t happen very often.
Maverick lets out a low grunt of approval as I come around the corner. “Shiver me fucking timbers. You clean up well, sweetheart.”
“If you ever say shiver me timbers again, I will stab you.” I smile at him. “But thanks. You look pretty swashbuckling good yourself.”
“Oh, you haven’t seen the best part yet.
” He turns back to the garment bag, digs around, then spins to face me once more.
In his hand, he brandishes a cutlass. “Son of a bitch is sharp, too. I sliced the fuck out of my finger because I thought it was fake or at least dull, but no. Jim got the real deal.”
My stomach sinks as I realize what that means, but I should have known we’d have to kill people today. Drat. Suddenly, this outing doesn’t seem like such a good time.
“Hey...is there a possibility you could, maybe...help me avoid having to kill anyone today?” I nibble my bottom lip as I wait for him to slot his sword into the hilt at his hip. “It wasn’t so bad when we accidentally sent the guy overboard, but I’m having second thoughts about it now.”
But then he shakes his head, and my stomach hits my feet. “Frankie, I wish I could, but you have to remember the other game we’re playing here. If anyone learns you’re a fed, they have a right to your head.”
“So you’ve changed your mind about offing me?” I say as I sit on the edge of the mattress.
“I never wanted you to die. Even when I wasn’t so sure about you, I felt the urge to keep you safe.” He sits beside me and drops his hands into his lap as he looks at the floor. “But yes, I suppose I feel differently now. Haven’t things changed for you?”
“Of course they have, but I still don’t know what that means.”
“Meaning you still plan to turn all of us over at the end of the cruise.”
My mind searches for the right words to explain my situation, but I don’t know how to help him understand. This is my career. If I don’t give them Jim at the very least, I’ll be in the unemployment line by the end of the month. My sports car. My apartment. My life.
I would lose everything.
But if I turn in Jim or any of Maverick’s friends, I lose him. He doesn’t have to tell me that. It’s an unwritten rule.
“Right,” he says with a pinched smile when I don’t say anything. “Well, at least we still have a few days left to have some fun.”
He stands and heads for the door. With each step he takes, my heart beats a little harder.
Three days stand between me and a difficult decision, and I wish I could stop time.
Better yet, I wish I could go back in time and refuse this assignment.
Maybe then I could spare myself the impending heartbreak. Whatever I choose, I’ll suffer a loss.