Killing's Just A Game

Frank's eyes nearly bulge out of his head.

"Excuse me?!" he asks incredulously.

I roll my eyes and shake my head. How thick can one guy get?

"Not sex, you idiot," I clarify. "Mikey snores and it's keeping me awake. So, can I sleep, literally, in your bunk?"

"Uh...yeah, I guess," Frank yawns. He scoots over, allowing me room to hoist myself up into his bunk. I pull myself up and settle in beside Frank. His bunk is slightly smaller than Mikey's, forcing our bodies to touch. I lay there awkwardly, trying not to get to close to Frank whilst attempting not to fall out of the bunk.

"Here," Frank says, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me closer. He secures me tightly against his chest so that I'm not hanging off the edge of the bed.

"Thanks," I mumble, shifting so that I am more on my side.

"I knew you'd pick me," Frank utters softly. His breath tickles the back of my neck ever so slightly.

"What?" I ask, not sure if I heard him correctly. What could he possibly mean by that? Does he think we're a couple now? Bloody hell, why are these men so confusing?

"Nothing. Good night, Melanie," Frank whispers, giving me a little squeeze.

"Night, Frank," I reply, not wanting to press the issue.

Frank's grip slowly loosens on me until he finally falls asleep. I find myself comfortable in Frank's grasp, but not in the way I imagined. We had so much chemistry at his house and in the cafe. I guess I just thought that it would be the same here too. But it's not. Instead of feeling fireworks, I feel soothed. It's almost as if Frank is just a friend, or even a brother.

This notion would only make my choice, not to mention my assignment, that much harder to manage.

---

I awaken the next morning to discover myself alone in Frank's bunk. Exhausted, I climb down from the bed and head towards the main room. The guys are all gathered around the table eating breakfast, except for Gerard. That can not be a good sign.

"Good morning, Princess," Mikey greets, a knowing smile playing at his lips. "How did you sleep?"

"Fine," I say shortly. "Where's Gerard?"

The four men look between each other cautiously, exchanging in one glance a wealth of information and emotions. They each decide not to answer my question, and Frank pipes up to distract me.

"Do you want some breakfast?" he asks, holding up a plate of toast and a lump of yellow mash which I assume is scrambled eggs.

"What I want, is to know where Gerard is," I retort, grabbing the plate away from him. I sit down next to Ray, who is busy reading a magazine. I take Ray's fork out of his hand and begin to eat with it.

"So much for not wanting breakfast," Ray grunts under his breath.

"Gerard went out last night," Bob answers plainly.

"Where to?" I inquire.

"What's with the intense concern?" Mikey questions me, giving me another knowing glance.

"Well given the information you divulged to me last night, Michael," I begin, "It's only likely that Gerard went out and did something stupid. As PR agent, I need to know all the facts so I can present this to the press in an educated and sober manner," I finish, using Ray's words from the cafe.

Bob sighs and sets down his fork. "He woke up when we got to Chicago last night. When he saw you had switched bunks he got a little..."

"Pissed," Frank inserts.

"Right," Bob continues, "Long story short, he went off to do what he always does when he's angry or upset."

"Get so trashed he can't even walk?" I guess. The guys nod, confirming my suspicion. Someone's cell phone begins to ring from within their bunk. Mikey groans and hurries back to answer the call. He's only in there for a few moments before he comes rushing back into the main room.

"Get dressed," he informs us hastily, "Gerard's in the hospital."

Upon hearing those four words, my heart stops.