Chapter 33
Chapter Thirty-Three
Frankie
A mber sits on the edge of the bed, a filled champagne flute in her right hand.
As she prattles on about how wonderful Chad has been, I pray she doesn’t study the bubbling liquid too closely.
I stirred the glob of semen as best I could, but it’s definitely still visible.
The goo dances in the liquid, getting bounced to hell and back by bubbles as she talks.
I raise my glass and pretend to sip, and Maverick does the same. I hope it encourages her to follow suit, but only Ice Pick takes the bait. He tips back his glass and downs it in one swallow.
He smacks his lips and looks at the glass. “Whew, that’s got a little tang to it, huh?”
My cheeks blaze red. “It’s vintage. Sometimes the, uh, the fruit...”
Fuck, I don’t know where I’m going with this. Is champagne even made with fruit?
“The grapes can end up a little tangy,” Maverick says, swooping in to save the day.
“Don’t worry, baby.” Amber tickles Ice Pick’s mustache, which is both weird and unsettling. “Mama will teach you all about the finer things when we get back on dry land.”
Mama ?
Hearing her talk made me feel like I was going to puke, but when she finally sips the champagne, my stomach convulses. A large glob slides into her gaping maw, and she swallows.
Amber purses her lips and clears her throat. “Yes, that tang is indicative of the year, darling. I once shared a glass with my late husband to celebrate a particularly sought after stud I acquired.”
“Stud? Do you breed horses?” I ask. “I noticed your bracelet has a horse on it, so I just assumed.”
“Goodness, no. This was a gift from my boss.” She turns the bracelet, showing it to me, but I don’t need to see it.
Mine was a gift from my boss as well. “I breed show dogs. Imported Anatolian shepherds, to be precise. We purchased Sans Marko Bootcut Presentation. I’m sure you’ve heard of him. He championed very young.”
“Oh, did you show him yourself?” Maverick asks.
She takes another sip. “Me? Show my own dogs? Never. I just breed the shit out of them and post the puppy videos all over social media. It’s a great side hustle, and I’ve nearly made enough to retire from my desk job.” She raises the glass and wiggles it. “Is there any more champagne?”
“I’ll fill that for you,” I say with a sweet smile. The urge to kill her is growing by the second. Maybe Ice Pick will let each of us get a stab in.
I’m getting turned on just thinking about it.
I pull the bottle of champagne from the fridge and dump another globby mixture into her glass. It’s the last of the semen, but that’s okay. It’s time to move to phase two of my plan.
Reaching into my pocket, I feel around for the glass vial. Cat was very kind to share some of her personal stash with me, and thanks to my years as a federal agent, I know just how effective a higher dose of scopolamine can be. In just a few minutes, this bitch will sing like a goddamn canary.
After breaking open the vial and dumping the liquid into the glass, I grab a stirring stick and give the liquid a good spin before handing the mixture to her. She looks a bit confused as she glares at the stirring stick, so I wave her off.
“No worries,” I say. “It’s a little trick I picked up in college. Makes the bubbles more...bubbly.”
She raises her eyebrows as she takes a sip, then nods. “Oh, wow! It really does!”
No the fuck it doesn’t. God, I hate her.
“How about that card game?” Ice Pick rubs his hands together. “I’m feeling lucky.”
“Not yet, but you will be,” Amber slurs. The champagne is already working its magic, meaning she’s a fucking lightweight from hell. When the drugs kick in, we are in for a show.
“Sorry, pal. Couldn’t find any cards,” Maverick says with a show of his empty hands. “Looks like we’ll just have to settle for good old conversation.”
“Maybe I could go find some.” Ice Pick rises to stand, but Maverick and I both jump up to stop him.
“No!” we say in unison, earning suspicious looks from both of our guests.
Maverick places a hand on Ice Pick’s shoulder, forcing him to sit again. “We just want to hang out and catch up. We can find some cards in a bit. The night is young, right?” He clears his throat. “Tell us more about your dogs, Amber.”
“Nothing much to tell. To be honest, I don’t know much about them.
I pay my staff to handle them.” She finishes the second glass in one swallow, come globs and all.
“I only go around them for filming. I used to film the births, but I had to stop.” With a roll of her eyes, she holds her glass toward me again, and I take it for a refill.
“I mean, excuse the flippity fuck out of me for wanting to pull the puppies out as quickly as possible. I just want to see how much money I’ll be able to make before crawling back into bed.
The bitches eventually wised up and started whelping when I’m away from home.
Grand Duchess Tool Biscuit is probably popping out dollar signs as we speak. ”
I pass the filled glass back to her—after adding another dash of scopolamine. She’ll be fine. I think. “Can’t pulling the puppies like that...hurt them?”
“Who cares? Half my breeding stock has genetic issues, anyway. Pulling the puppies gives me a fallback position. I just pretend I made a mistake and that the hip dysplasia was my fault. Works every”—she hiccups—“time.”
I study her pupils as she talks. They haven’t quite blown as wide as I’d expect from the dose of meds, but they’re close. I can’t stomach any more talk about the animal abuse, though, so I change topics.
“Tell us what you like about our Chad,” I say as I scrunch my nose at Amber and try to look cutesy.
“Bless you,” Ice Pick says.
I cock my head at him.
“Oh, sorry,” he says. “Thought you had to sneeze.”
Note to self: don’t try to look cutesy ever again.
“Well, I needed someone who would talk,” she says, and my ears swivel toward her. “He seemed like a talker, so I went with it. You practically put the perfect imbecile right into my hands.”
I spare a look at Maverick, and he nods.
“Wait, are you saying Ice Pick—Chad—is an idiot?” I ask.
“Yeah, is that what you’re saying?” Ice Pick adds.
As Amber downs the third full glass, I regret putting that extra dose inside. She clearly didn’t need it.
“Did you actually think I liked fucking you? Ugh, it was terrible. Like masturbating with a cocktail sausage.” In a fit of giggles, she turns to me and sobers just as quickly.
“Want to know the worst part? I still can’t get him to give up his serial killer friends.
I’ve faked orgasm after orgasm for nothing.
” Her grin reappears, widening until I fear her face will crack.
“But that’s okay, because now I’m here. Now I know what those pretty purple wristbands mean. ”
Tears fill Ice Pick’s eyes as he sits on the edge of the bed. His hands form fists in his lap, and the champagne flute shatters in his grip.
“Permission granted,” Maverick says.
Ice looks at his hands. “It ain’t an ice pick, but I guess it’ll do.”
“We thought of that,” Frankie says as she slides an ice pick into his hand.
Amber places her palm to her chest and giggles through a hiccup. “What do you?—”
Ice Pick plunges the stiff metal shaft into her chest, right through her hand.
With the way the rod sinks into her body without resistance, he must have missed every bone and driven that pointed end right past her finger bones and rib cage.
Amber’s mouth opens in a scream, but Ice silences her by plunging the handle a little deeper.
Her cry chokes off as she weakly grips his wrist with her free hand.
“Why?” she whimpers.
“That was for Sans Marko Bootcut Presentation. And this is for me.” He pushes one more time, and we hear an audible pop as the ice pick sinks to the handle.
Amber’s head lolls to the side, and her eyes cease to see what’s in front of her. Which is a real shame, because I’m giving her the fucking finger as she makes her exit from this world.
Good fucking riddance.
Ice Pick uses his feet to kick her body off the bed, and Maverick and I step over her to sit beside him, one of us on each side. We wrap our arms around him and embrace him so that he doesn’t have to feel so alone.
“Damn, I thought she was the one,” Ice Pick mumbles. “I can’t be with a woman who abuses animals, though. There are some real sickos in this world.”
I blink and stare at the wall. “So we didn’t need to prove that she was a fed?”
He shakes his head. “No, I figured she was. Just like you, Frankie. But I?—”
“Hold it,” Maverick says. “Frankie isn’t a fed. She’s one of us.”
Ice turns his head and gives Maverick a dramatic wink. “ Right . One of us.”
“You weren’t on the ship,” I add. “You didn’t see the way I tortured one of the feds we discovered.”
Maverick points at me. “That’s true. Then she came back here and fucked me stupid because it turned her on so much. Definitely not fed behavior.”
“It’s okay, guys. Your secret is safe with me. No need to lay it on so thick.” He shrugs out of our hug and rises to his feet. “But thanks. You guys saved me from a lot of heartache.”
As he leaves the room, I’m not so sure we saved him from the heartache.
He looks as if his heart aches quite a bit.
But at least we saved him from his eventual demise, because she definitely had a lot of hate in her heart.
And as I clean up the glass as Maverick goes to get the crew to dispose of the body, I wonder if I’ll wear that same look at the end of this trip.
I can’t think about that right now. That’s a problem for later.
For now, I want to check out that bracelet a little more closely.
If the women received a bracelet, that means the men had something of their own too.
Castle wasn’t wearing any jewelry, but he was Cattle. Maybe they took their items away.
Men come to remove the body as I sit on the bed with the bracelet in my hands, turning it over and looking for any type of listening device, but I see nothing. The small horse charm isn’t large enough to hold much more than?—
“A tracking device,” I whisper.
I dig through my bag and find my matching bracelet, then walk to the balcony and toss both into the ocean. If King wants to know where I am, he can come and find me. I’ll be fucking ready for him.