Page 85 of Ship Happens
I could end it all here. As she looks up at me with those crystal-blue eyes, I can see that telling her it would change how I feel would be enough to stop her madness.
But I have to be honest with her.
And myself.
“Nothing will change how I feel about you,” I admit. “I don’t know what this is, but I’m not ready to stop exploring what it could be. Your profession doesn’t matter to me. I just don’t want you to wake up one day and resent me for not stopping you.”
“Sometimes it has to be enough to know you tried.” She shrugs her shoulders. “I’m not an easy woman to get along with, and it’s partly because I’m stubborn. At my age, I’m pretty set in my ways. If I want to do something, I do it, and you can’t stop me. That’s the entire reason my division wants me dead.”
“Because you forced your way into male spaces?”
She shakes her head. “No, not male spaces so much as spaces I really don’t belong in. I see that now. I wasn’t cut out for the job, and King knew it. He blocked every attempt I made to get into his castle, but nepotism won the day.”
“I thought your mother didn’t want you in this line of work?”
“She didn’t, but remember what I said about being really stubborn? Yeah. I’m pretty sure she pulled the strings just to shut me up.”
“Frankie, it’s almost time!” Eve yells toward us.
We glance down the lanes. Blood coats the sand as Aven raises and lowers the bat on his Cattle’s head. His victim is clearly dead, but he’s lost to the violence. Kindra, on the other hand, stands patiently beside her Cattle as one of the crew checks for a pulse.
“Shit,” Frankie says. “I gotta get over there. We’ll continue this later.”
She stands on tiptoes and gives my cheek another peck before hurrying back to Eve’s side. Just like that, hope evaporates from my heart. There will be no hesitation on Frankie’s part. I can tell that much from the determined way she stares down the lane, practically raring to rush across the sand and make a kill.
As I stare down the lane, I can only think one thing: I have to save Frankie before she reaches the point of no return. We’re approaching that deadline, but I still have time. Two more nights, to be exact. When Frankie leaves this ship, she’ll do so with her head on straight, even if that means I have to rip out my heart to make it happen.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Maverick
Despite Aven’s reluctance to stop beating a dead horse, Frankie and I still manage to race down the beach at roughly the same time. I’m a few seconds ahead of her, so I quickly formulate a plan as Jim shouts instructions from the bullhorn.
“Station three, welcome to the beach picnic! The rules are simple. Using only the items provided in your picnic basket, you must prepare a wonderful spread. Drape your blanket on the sand, and don’t forget to grab your special guest!”
He motions toward the water, to a few surfboards bobbing in the waves. I hadn’t given them a second thought before now, but as I look closely, I see Cattle strapped to each one. Naked, shivering Cattle.
“If your Cattle dies on the journey to the picnic, your team will be disqualified,” Jim adds. “All kills must be taken on the picnic blanket to count, and the blanket must remain in your lane!”
With a groan, I look at the ocean. I’m not a terrible swimmer, but I don’t know about Frankie. Cutting through the waves will be a major pain in the ass, but it’s also exhausting.
“You better not lose this for us, blondie!” Bennett yells toward me. Probably because I’m simply standing here and watching as Frankie races toward the water like some Baywatch daydream.
She rips off her shirt as I hurry after her. It flies behind her and lands in my face, ruining my perfect view. I’m glad when she doesn’t strip further. Bennett isn’t the only one with a possessive streak. The idea is a good one, though, so I steal it. As I run, I rip off my clothes until I’m down to my boxers.
Frankie is all giggles and smiles as she dives into the water, but I’m increasingly nervous about the distance. While it doesn’t seem that far on land, treading water for that length of time is nothing to sniff at, and we’ll have squirming passengers to tend to on the return trip.
Cheers erupt behind us as another team finishes the second station. I wade into the water until it reaches my knees. Then I begin the swim.
I was wrong to worry about Frankie. She reaches the surfboards, chooses one, and begins paddling toward shore. I was right to worry about myself, though, because I still have several yards to go, and I’m already winded.
“You good?” Frankie asks as we pass in the water. She even stops kicking her legs as she swipes the water from her face.
I grunt and force a smile. “Never been better, sweetheart. Just giving you a little head start.”
“Right,” she drawls as she kicks toward shore.
Setting my jaw, I try not to think about the horrible pain digging into my arms and legs. Exhaustion is already setting in by the time I reach the surfboards, and I’m more than happy to rest a moment as I catch my breath. Bennett stomps his feetand screams at me when he realizes I’m resting, but that’s fine. I can’t hear him all the way out here.
