𝐋𝐢𝐚𝐫, 𝐋𝐢𝐚𝐫 | 𝐉𝐉 𝐌𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐤

45. walk the plank.

F O R T Y - F I V E
walk the plank.

"Frankie." My body shakes. "Frankie, honey. Please. Fuck!" I really don't want to be touched right now, my brain is on fire. "What did he do to you?!" The sobbing voice finally clicks. Sarah. I like Sarah.

I want to tell her that she should get a look at Rafe. I hope it scars.

The world rocks beneath me, all while I feel the tears from Sarah soaking my shirt.

"I need you, Frankie. Please. You gotta wake up." My best friend thankfully stops shaking me.

She says wake up, like it's just that easy. Sleep is far too nice-sounding. It's got a nice ring to it. Sleep... sl-eep. Right now, the world seems both painful and incredibly stressful. Death doesn't seem so bad. Unless I'm in one of the circles of Hell.

Maybe I should just wake up.

"You moved!" She sobs. I've been moving for about sixteen years, I want to tell her. It's really not that impressive. "Just open your eyes. Please, Frankie. It's really bad."

On second thought, maybe not. I can't be fucked for dealing with something really bad.

When she chokes out a sob, I decide that I'm an amazing friend, and I open my eyes. Light rushes my iris'. Rafe definitely smacked me with his entire might. My head hurt before I opened my eyes, but now that they're open, it is unbearable.

"Frankie. You're okay," Sarah soothes, hovering about an inch from my face. It would be nice to have a sliver of room.

I groan as the world slowly comes into focus. Sarah looks... less annoyingly gorgeous. If she's a hot mess, I must look abysmal. The world once more seems to rock, like I'm on a gently swaying swing. It's kind of soothing.

"We're on a boat," she blurts. No longer is the gentle sway anything close to soothing. "I– I woke up. Rose drugged me. Rafe... he dumped you in here. I thought I was alone."

"You're brother is insane," I grumble. "And what do you mean... didn't Ward blow up your boat?" Gingerly, I sit up while I gently brush my fingertips across my forehead. A seemingly neat row of butterfly stitches decorates my wound. It must've been pretty bad, though I doubt it was what kept me out for long enough. He probably drugged me, it isn't a stretch of his capabilities. Rafe has more drug connections than job connections.

Sarah gives me some room, but doesn't move far away—she seems to be ready to jump in if I lose balance. "This isn't a boat my Dad owns, this is a fucking ship. We're in the middle of fucking nowhere, Frankie," she curses angrily.

"Where's JJ?" I ask as the world begins clicking into place.

"I don't know–"

Both of our eyes lock in on the door to the living quarters we've been trapped in. It's not like we have anywhere to go; my swimming skills aren't cross-continental level. Footsteps, followed by the blocking and opening of a door.

Ward Cameron. Like, dead Ward Cameron.

Sarah falls back against me. I hold her shoulders tightly, giving them a squeeze to remind her she isn't alone. Not a lot more I can do.

"Hi, sweetie," Ward greets his daughter. "It's me. I know this is impossible to you, and I'm gonna explain, to both of you–"

Sarah gets up, crosses the room and bitch slaps him so hard his eyes water. If I weren't being held hostage, I'd clap. But I am, so I refrain.

"You're right. I'm sorry. I deserve that. I do. I know I do," he apologises. I hate that a part of me believes him; he looks so pitiful. Probably the Daddy issues in me. "You have been through Hell, and that is my fault. And I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Sarah. I can promise you that I didn't have any other choice. I didn't. I don't expect you to understand that now. All I can do is tell you exactly what happened, and I'll answer both of your questions." Sarah paces while he speaks, before she stands protectively next to me. "Maybe you'll see it was the only way. I know you don't believe that, and I know it's hard to hear. But I-it was my only choice. It was the only way to make sure that we were all safe and we were all together."