Page 93 of Ship Happens
King shrugs his shoulders and clasps his hands together. “I’m not at liberty to say.”
“Bullshit.” Frankie ducks under my arm again, appearing seconds later with her badge in hand. She throws it at the man, and he winces as he catches it against his chest. “I quit. I’ll send in my resignation letter the moment I return home. After that, wipe me from the system and forget I ever existed.”
“That’s not what I want, Ghost.”
“Don’t fucking call me that!”
He winces again. “I’ve come to offer you a promotion. The only catch?—”
“Fuck you and your catches. God, I can’t believe I ever looked up to you.” With tears in her eyes, she pushes past King and exits the cabin. I move to follow her, but he grips my arm and holds me in place.
“Let her go and give her some time,” he says. “Jim told me you just want what’s best for her, and we both know that means steering her back to her post. In fact, it’s probably best you let me take it from here. I’ll gather her things and?—”
“Gather her things? What, you plan to kidnap her off the ship?” I yank my arm out of his hold. “No. I won’t let you take her.”
“The experiment had its desired effect, but she’s gone a little too far into your world. Nothing we can’t fix with a little reprogramming.”
“A little...reprogramming?” I blink my eyes as if that will clear the cotton from my ears, because there’s no way I heard him correctly. “She’s not a fucking robot. She’s a human being, and you aren’t reprogramming shit.”
He cocks his head and studies me. “Funny. You didn’t seem to have a problem with it when you were sleeping with her. Wasn’t that a form of reprogramming?” He sighs and shakes his head as he stuffs his hands into his pockets. “I wanted her to develop a compassion for the art of what you and your friends do. I never wanted her to become the artist.”
“Why would you want her to have compassion for us?”
“To make her better at her job. Her bloody mother kept her locked away in a tall tower.” His mask cracks, and the frustration shows through. “She’s the reason Frankie never received any field assignments, which means she lacked the necessary experience for the jobs she’d have been best at. I saw her potential, and when I created my division a few years ago, Frankie was the first prospect on my radar. Sending her on this trip wasn’t my decision, however. This was miles above my head. Using my connections, I did what I could to protect her. You have to see that.”
The fight drains from my body because I see it. He’s telling the truth. Jim wouldn’t have given him carte blanche on thisship unless he trusted him, and I also realize King and I aren’t so different. He wants the same thing I do. For Frankie to be happy.
We both know this life won’t bring her that.
“What do you need me to do?” I ask.
“I was hoping I could bring you around. Jim was right about you.”
As he drapes his arm over my shoulder and leads me to the balcony, my stomach is already swaying. Before he even has a chance to speak, I know what he’s about to say. I know what I’ll be asked to do.
And because I know it’s the right thing for Frankie, I’ll do it.
Chapter Forty-Two
Frankie
Tears soak my cheeks as I hide in an alcove and cry like the little bitch that I am. I’m supposed to be made of tougher stuff than this, but it seems I’ll always melt under pressure. My strength can only carry me so far, and I’ve reached the outer limits.
The implications of King’s words grind salt into festering wounds. I grimace and open my mouth in a silent scream. I envy women who cry loudly. My emotional pain yearns for a voice.
It’s the finality of it all that’s affecting me so much. I planned to quit when we got back, but seeing King just set me off. Being reminded of the way the department used me and lied to me struck a match beside a powder keg, and there would be no more waiting. I had to rip off the Band-Aid and allow the explosion to occur.
But if quitting was the right decision, why do I feel so terrible?
Wrapping my arms around my midsection, I clutch myself and try to slow the rapid beat of my heart by breathing inthrough my nose and out through my mouth. It’s not working. The finality of tossing the ashes of my life off the side of a cliff has registered, and I feel as if I’m grieving.
I glance at the clock above the bar in the lounge across from my hiding place. Twenty minutes have passed since I raced out of the room. Surely Maverick has run King off by now, and I can think of no better place to heal than in my lover’s arms.
After a quick stop by a bathroom to splash some water on my swollen eyes, I hurry to the elevator and make a beeline for the room. The sooner I can take a deep breath and feel safe, the better.
When I enter the cabin, Maverick is seated on the bed, facing the balcony overlooking the ocean. The parted curtains let the afternoon sunshine into the room. In the distance, a small boat ferries a group of people toward a gaggle of jet skis. They’re too far away to make out details, but I hope it’s the girls. And I hope they’re having an amazing time. I’m a little sad that I missed out, but there will be other trips.
Thinking of what I have to look forward to in my new life softens the blow a little, but fuck, this still hurts.
