WELL, THAT’S A LONG STORY
BILLY
I’ve never been the quiet type. The one who does things subtly or with patience and a gentle touch. When I was six, I was sick of the slow, tentative pace of my swimming lessons, so I left the group, telling my instructor I had to wee, and then, when no one was looking, I hurled myself into the deep end. And that’s pretty much been an example of how I’ve done everything in my life. And that now includes love. Because this is the first time I’ve been in love, and well, I just threw myself in the deep end.
Bash is staring at me, eyes wider than I have ever seen them and mouth agape. Rocco and his dad are glued to me like I’m doing some performance art piece in front of the Louvre or something. Antonio is watching from the other side of the plane, near the flight attendants area. He looks pale.
“Son… what did you just say?” Bash finds his voice. It’s a low rumble, like he’s beyond pissed off, but at least he still called me son.
“I said I love your daughter. This one.” I point like a true fucking idiot. “In case you’re confused. Some people get confused. Anyway I love her and I think she still loves me. She used to anyway but I’ve been a bit of a pompous panda.”
“You donotlove me,” Frankie’s whisper is filled with disbelief. She’s standing now and facing me. I missed that. I was too glued to Bash, but anyway, she’s looking right at me. Her eyes are wider than her dad’s and her face is red. Like Ferrari red. Not my favorite color since they’re rivals.
I try and muster a smile. My survival instincts to keep things light that I adopted through years of trauma with my own family are hard to kick completely. “Love, you know I do. I’m just fucking terrified of it. Or at least I was until I realized denying it was more painful. My feelings for you just wouldn’t go away or turn off. And also, when Ava told me what she thought happened to you that night I stood you up I realized I wouldn’t ever let that go so why in the hell was I trying to let you go.”
“What the hell happened to you?” Bash says. His voice raises with every word, getting rougher and heavier. “Frankie, are you okay?”
“I’m fine Dad. I promise. He’s talking years ago,” Frankie whispers. She lifts her hands and puts them to her forehead. “Oh my God, what are you doing, Billy?”
“That night on the yacht. She didn’t overdose,” I say flatly.
“What the fuck, James?” Dario’s voice booms. He sounds irate. Like, over-the-top furious. Why? I turn to him. He doesn’t look confused. He looks panicked. “I don’t know what the hell you think you’re doing here. You weren’t there that night. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“It was your boat, wasn’t it?” I say, and he doesn’t answer me. “Did you do it?”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Rocco stands up. “Do what? Give her drugs? Tell her to take pills or snort whatever the hell she snorted? Who the hell do you think my father is? And in case you forgot, he owns the team you’re on.”
“He co-owns it,” I correct and glare at Rocco. “For now, right? Because you guys are going to leave anyway. And it was his boat the night Frankie was drugged, but it was your party, so did you do it?”
“Drugged?” Bash repeats the word like it’s foreign to him. “Ma louloutte, did someonedrugyou?”
“I didn’t… this isn’t how I wanted to tell you,” Frankie says. Her voice is small, and I hate that because she isn’t the one who should feel shame here. Not an ounce of it.
I walk toward her. It’s a small space, so it takes half a foot. She shakes her head to stop me as I reach out to touch her. “I’m sorry Frankie. For everything. For not calling you or reaching out after I missed our date. For pretending I didn’t want you this entire ten years because I think we both know now that was a lie.”
“Billy…” She almost smiles. Almost.
Bash is like a wild animal though. The look on his face is almost too pained to look at. His caramel-colored eyes glint with rage as they bore into every single face on this plane. They come to a rest on Dario. “Did you do this? Did you know about this?”
“I didn’t drug your daughter, Bash,” Dario barks back, but something in his tone feels false.
“Well, do you know who did?” I interject.
Silence.
Dario looks at Antonio.
“You’re the last person I saw her with that night,” Rocco points at Antonio.
“I don’t drug women!”
“You son of a bitch!” Bash hisses and lunges toward Antonio, which causes Adelaide to scream and Frankie to grab her dad by the shoulders and hold him back.
“I didn’t drug her!” Antonio yells. His skin is green, his eyes wild. “I wouldn’t do that to anyone. I just put her in the bathroom, like Dario told me to. He said she would sleep it off.”
“Holy shit,” Frankie gasps.
“I didn’t know she would vomit. I didn’t know she would choke!” Dario yells.
