Page 34 of Ship Happens
“Sorry about that. W-won’t happen again,” he says with a tight smile.
I take another sip of water to wash down the heat rising in my chest. I remind myself that I would have defended any woman in that situation. This isn’t some protective feeling toward Frankie. It’s just not.
Fabric rustles beside me as she slides onto the stool. The faint scent of mint mingles around her, prying into my nose. I hate that I like this smell.
“Damn, is that vodka?” She turns my glass, then leans closer and sniffs. “Nope. That’s definitely not vodka.”
I pull the glass in front of me again. “I’m not a big drinker.”
“Or a big talker, apparently.” She waves down the bartender, who wisely keeps his eyes above her neckline as she orders a white Russian.
I close my eyes and swallow my frustrations. If I want to hold down my end of Jim’s deal, I’ll have to let my guard down again, like it was in the beginning. I’ll have to give her a chance if I expect her to do the same.
A water droplet races down the side of the glass and fades into the napkin beneath it. I’ve never wanted to be a water droplet so badly. “Talking isn’t easy. You need to see it from my side. You want to destroy the people I care about. And for what? So that you can have your picture in the newspaper? Serial killers murder for fame too, you know.”
“But I’m not murdering anyone. I’m simply putting them behind bars.” She twirls her slender fingers through the air. “What you people do is wrong, and I’m just calling for the past-due bill.”
“Just...” I search for the right words, but no matter what I say, she’ll bat it right back to me. “Just open your mind, even if it’s only a tiny crack. You might even find you like the fresh air.”
“Doubtful.”
I grip the edge of the bar and grit my teeth. “Just fuckingtry.”
“Okay, okay.” She heaves an exasperated sigh and sips her drink. “I agreed to this, so it’s only fair that I give this a shot. Must I kill your victims, though?”
“Shh!” I look around to be sure no one heard her. Then I lean closer. “They aren’t victims, sweetheart. You need to change that way of thinking real quick. They’re Cattle—here for our use.”
She grimaces and traces the rim of her glass with her finger. “I can’t think of people like that. They’ve done some horrible things, but what gives us the right to punish them so finally?”
“So you’re against the death penalty?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Then what are you saying?”
She turns her head, looking me fully in the face. “I’m saying that it isn’t our place to make these decisions. We have a legal system. We aren’t animals.”
“Our legal system is flawed.”
“So you’ve said, but I never claimed it was perfect.” Frankie sips her drink and spins on the stool, stopping once she’s facing the banister overlooking the atrium’s first floor. “If I have to kill them, I’ll only take out the pinks and reds.”
The tight knot in my chest loosens a little. “It’s funny that you mention that because there is a tight little collective of killers who run on that same fuel.”
“Is Jim one of them?”
Fuck. “Well . . . no, but?—”
“What about you?”
I don’t want to answer this question, but I have no choice. “I’m a contract killer, so I’ve probably made some questionable decisions, but when I kill for sport, it’s a red or a pink.”
“Kill for sport? Do you hear yourself?” She shudders. “I don’t think I can get into your headspace. I just can’t. Maybe fifteen years ago when I had a malformed brain, but I’m a mature woman now. I have sense.”
“And crow’s feet,” I mutter. It’s a lie, but I know it will cut deep. Her two-hour beauty routine is proof of that.
She opens her mouth to blow me down with a cheap shot, I’m sure, but I hold up my hand and silence her as I spot the time on my watch.
“Save it for later. We have to be on deck in less than thirty minutes, and you aren’t dressed appropriately for the activity.” I slide off my stool and look back at her. “Have you ever been swimming with sharks, sweetheart?”
