Chapter 41
Chapter Forty-One
Frankie
It was a skill, I realized, to smile when you wanted to cry, but after a few glasses of wine, I thought I performed admirably. The gala was a success—glitzy patrons were descending on my cooking like ravenous wolves. I had several people even come up to me and ask if I had ever been a private chef and others ask if I'd be interested in catering more of their own glamorous events.
I handed out all of my business cards in the first hour. I couldn’t believe how many job offers I’d gotten before the patrons even had a chance to get really drunk. That was when I started sending out more greasy and nostalgic—but still dazzling—finger food. It was what really set me apart from the average event fare. My cuisine evolved along with the guests’ palettes.
I was glad I’d forced myself to come and see the fruits of my labor. Getting dressed up was a Sisyphean task of redoing my eyeliner again and again because I kept breaking into tears. But I was pretty proud of my efforts considering. I’d never chosen such a glittering ensemble before, preferring to fade into the background, but right then I’d wanted to finally show off my revenge dress. I’d bought it with Jake in mind, but now all I could think about was showing Finch what she was missing.
I had a feeling that my honorary aunties, Aya and Kirby, were intentionally shielding me from Finch. The pair had kept within a few paces all evening. Still, I couldn't help but keep checking from my periphery, wondering if every flash of dark hair and peek of tattooed skin was Finch.
I was so focused on trying not to search for Finch that I managed to entirely miss a person walking up behind me until he was speaking.
"Can I talk to you?" the voice asked, and my stomach sank at the sound.
This was the last thing I needed right now. I turned to see Jake. He didn't look his normal, suave self. His shirt was wrinkled, his sleeves clumsily rolled up, his pants stained with mysterious dirt marks, and his breath reeked of stale beer. What had happened to him? I wondered if he’d slept in those clothes or if he’d just been out on a two-day bender. Judging from his breath, I guessed the latter.
"Whoa, Jake," I said, concern crossing my face. "Are you okay?"
Pinching his side, Jake had to catch his breath before he spoke. “Can we talk?"
"Yeah, over here," I said, leading him down the alley between the toilets and the Peckish Peacock. I didn’t want all of the people who’d just asked for my business card to see me with this drunken, disheveled man. Once we were behind the restaurant, out of view, I turned to Jake and asked, “What happened? Are you okay?"
"You look so beautiful, Frankie.” His speech was slurred as his unfocused eyes dropped to my cleavage and just lingered there, as if he were entitled to the eyeful. “So, so beautiful.”
Seriously, what did I ever see in this man? I really didn't know anymore. But he looked in distress, and I felt some strange sort of obligation to still help him.
"What’s going on with you? Why are you drunk?” I asked. “Where’s Olivia?”
"Gone," he said, dramatically waving a hand to the ocean behind him. "I ended things with her."
"You what?" My eyes bugged. "But— But she's funny and gorgeous and way too good for you. Wh-why? You broke up with her? What the hell is wrong with you?”
“I had to.” Jake swayed on his feet as he spoke. “I realized I was still in love with someone else."
I held up a hand. “Jesus fucking Christ, Jake, if you say me?—”
"I love you, Frankie.” He stepped into me, clouding me with his stench. I backed into the wall, leaning against it to keep some distance between the two of us. "I never stopped loving you."
"Yeah, you really loved me so much while your dick was in someone else."
"It was a mistake," he said. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m sorry. Forgive me?"
"I forgive you, Jake, even if you don’t deserve it.” He reached for me, and I shoved him away, hard enough he nearly toppled backward. "But I don't want to get back together with you. I’ve moved on. I thought you had too.”
I debated explaining in more detail, but now really didn’t seem like the appropriate moment to come out to him. I didn’t owe him an explanation. I was never getting back together with him or any man.
"Frankie, please," Jake begged. "It's still us. Our life. Our plans. Let's get married and move back upstate and have some kids and go on adventures and do all the things we said we'd always do."
The tears that I'd been forcing back all day started to well in my eyes again. They welled not for our abandoned plans, but for the woman I was when I’d made them in the first place. It felt like a lifetime ago that I’d wanted all those things with him. I mourned the person I thought I was. I wished she’d known herself sooner, wished she’d never let a man like Jake cut her down.
“I’m not the one for you, Jake,” I said with a shake of my head. “I never really was.”
"You are," he pleaded, closing in on me again and puckering his lips.
"Jake, stop." I turned my head as he tried to kiss me, wrinkling my nose at his awful breath and shoving on his chest. “This isn't what either of us want anymore. You need to let this go.”
"I want you, Frankie," he whispered, balling my dress in his hands and lifting the hem as I shoved him harder. He tripped backward, nearly biting it on the pavement, but he righted himself and charged back toward me. “You're never going to do better than me.”
"I already have," I hissed.
"With that fucking vet bitch?" He reached for me, grabbing angrily at the air. I easily dodged out of his flailing hands, but the fact he even thought to reach for me had my stomach curdling. There was an uglier underside to him that I’d never seen before now.
“If you ever call her that again, Jake, I’ll punch you in the fucking nose,” I snarled. “Now walk away now before I make you.”
“So tough now, huh?” He scoffed. “You think I can’t make you leave with me, Frankie?” Jake insisted as he shot forward again. “A few weeks with that stupid cunt and you think—” Without a second’s hesitation, I lifted my fist and punched him square in the fucking nose. I might have called for help to manage him, or ran back to the crowd, or done a million other de-escalating things, but he’d insulted Finch and I couldn’t let it stand. Jake’s head snapped back, but before he could recoil, another fist collided with his jaw.
Jake toppled to the side as Finch stood there, shaking out her hand.
Her eyes fixed to mine. “Are you okay? You hurt?”
I shook my head. “I’m fine.” I couldn’t feel my hand, couldn’t feel anything, so much adrenaline was racing through my veins.
Jake spat blood onto the brick as he stood. "Frankie, let's go."
“No,” I snapped.
“Frankie—”
Finch shot forward, grabbing Jake by the collar, yanking him to stand, and shoving him roughly against the wall. “She said no."
Hatred clouded Jake’s expression as he stared daggers into Finch. “She's mine.”
Finch twisted the fabric in her hand, squeezing Jake's collar tighter and making his already flushed face turn even more red.
"Listen to me right now," she snarled, leaning into Jake. “She does not belong to you or anyone but herself.”
“I’ll just come back again, Frankie. I won’t give up.”
When he had the gall to still struggle, Finch’s grip tightened. “Look at me,” she seethed, and Jake’s bloodshot eyes slid back to her. “Do you know how easy it is to dispose of a body in a zoo? I could end you before you could even step one foot outside these barbed wire fences. I can think of a dozen ways just off the top of my head. I could throw you in the industrial composter and not a single hair follicle would be found. I could bury you under a tree in the lion enclosure. What about a live feeding? Excellent enrichment for the animals.” Jake shuddered. “Did you know the hyenas just love to eat bone? Have you ever seen a crocodile death roll?”
Jake went still in Finch’s grip, the blood draining from his sweaty face.
“No,” Finch hissed. “Your flesh is too rotten for my animals. I know what I’d do. I have a loaded tranq gun that could take down a fucking bear. I’d dart you, take you down to my friend Petey's boat, and head all the way out to sea before chumming the water and tossing you overboard. Your body would never be found. And even if it was, it would never come back on me. I have industrial-grade cleaners at my disposal and I am very thorough about sanitizing everything I touch." She leaned in closer, her voice getting low and lethal. "Remember that the next time you think it's a good idea to come close to Frankie. Got that, Jake?"
His eyes were impossibly wide, all of the blood drained from his face as he nodded. "Good," she said, finally dropping her grip. “Now get the fuck out of my zoo. You’re banned for life. I never want to see you on my island again."
“You can’t ban me from the island,” he blustered like the absolute fool he was.
“You really want to test me?” Finch’s eyebrows lifted. “I know everyone from the ferry driver to the marina workers to the owners of every fucking store on Prickle Island. You’ll be turned away everywhere at my request. Don’t test me,” Finch growled. “Now, you’ve got one hour to get off this fucking island before I call my friends at the Coast Guard.”
Jake ran, the coward, not even bothering to look back at me, and honestly, I couldn't blame him. Finch was fucking terrifying in that moment, but in one breath to the next, her mask slipped and she turned to me. “Jesus, Frankie, are you okay? Did he hurt you?” She frantically checked me over, all that steely anger ebbing to fear. "Do we need to call the cops?"
"I'm okay," I said. Finch kept scouring every inch of my exposed skin. “I thought vets were supposed to be calm in an emergency?”
“Not when the emergency is about you,” she replied instantly.
I put my hands on her forearms, stilling her. “Really, Finch, I’m fine."
But we both knew that was far from true.
"What did he say to you?”
“That he broke up with Olivia,” I said. “That he still loves me and wants to get back together."
Her face paled. “And what did you say?"
"Besides fuck no?" I asked, crossing my arms and taking a step out of her touch. Finch instantly dropped her hands, clearly devastated at my retreat.
"Frankie, I'm so sorry," she said, her eyes welling, and mine instantly did the same. I’d never seen her so instantly overcome with emotion. “I’m so incredibly sorry. I was scared, and I didn't mean to push you away. I just have this death grip on my job and I don't know how to let go of it. I can’t let go of it, but I never wanted to hurt you.”
I shook my head. "It's my fault," I said. "You told me the way things were from the start. I should've paid better attention.” My laugh was half-hearted, barely able to conjure a smile. “I never should’ve pushed us to be more. You were right. Your job is your life.”
"Oh.”
That “oh” contained multitudes I couldn’t parse apart. Was she relieved? Disappointed? I had no idea.
"We should've just kept it pretend,” I continued, resolute to make things okay between us again, even if it stomped all over my delicate heart. “I think we need to go back to just being the normal kind of friends. I regret making this something physical.”
“I don’t.” She took a step toward me, pain in her eyes. “But I can’t give you what you deserve. I can’t give you something real,” she murmured, taking another step closer. “But I don’t want to let you go either, and I know that makes me the worst sort of person.” She took another step, searching my eyes, waiting for me to retreat, but I held fast to that spot, my gaze dropping to her mouth. “I’m going to keep my distance for now. I have to,” Finch whispered, her breath hot on my lips. “Because when I’m near you, I have no self-control.”
I bridged the gap between us, lifting on my toes and kissing her. Finch groaned, pulling me closer, her fingertips pressing into my skin, holding onto me as if she were afraid I’d evaporate into thin air. She licked into my mouth, tasting me, her kisses frenzied and desperate.
All at once, Finch took a giant step backward. “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice cracking. “I’m so sorry for everything. I won’t do that again.”
She balled her hands into fists, as if forcing them to remain by her sides and not reach out to me again.
“Finch,” I called, reaching for her, but she didn’t stop.
And if she did, what would I say? That I could just go on pretending I wasn’t in love with her? That I was willing to let her break my heart just to be with her? At least Finch had the strength to end things, while I was willing to let her burn me just to be close to her flame. That was how much I wanted to be with her. And we both knew that was a mistake. She’d been honest with me when she’d said this thing between us could never be anything more. And it was my fault that my traitorous heart had fallen for her anyway.
My eyes misted. She disappeared around the corner as I tried to keep my heart from shattering into a million pieces all over again.