Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Dex
G us knew he was in trouble. It had been two hours, and he was still perched on the railing with his beak tucked under his wing. I liked to think it was in shame, but I knew the bird better than that. He was just trying to stay out of the line of my glower for a few hours.
I yanked the clothing off the line. It was still damp, which wasn’t surprising given the weather. I’d hoped to float into the cove mostly unnoticed and make myself a temporary home in Whisper Cove, but Gus had announced our arrival with trumpets blaring. And now, I’d made an enemy, and the elderly gentleman in the next houseboat didn’t look too pleased with me, either. Gus’s victim, a statuesque, copper-haired beauty with cocoa brown eyes—who looked entirely too gorgeous soaked in seawater—would probably never trust me, or gulls, again.
I bundled the clothes in my arms and carried them below deck. My breakfast plate, one of the two dishes I owned, was still in the sink. The leftover egg had dried to cement, so I filled the small basin with water to let it soak. I’d bought the old tugboat-turned-houseboat from a young couple who’d decided living on the ocean wasn’t as glamorous and adventurous as they’d imagined. Three months into their new life on the open sea, the woman, Katy, threatened to jump overboard if they didn’t sell the boat and rent a house with a foundation and a garden. I didn’t have much money and got a good deal on the boat, but it wasn’t too far into my own adventure when I realized the houseboat was even shabbier than it looked. At least there was a bed and a tiny galley with a hotplate and sink. The bathroom was even less impressive—a toilet and a small space with a showerhead that occasionally spewed enough water for a short rinse. It wasn’t the Ritz. But then, I rarely expected much—a residual habit from a very scattered life. Our dad always worked hard, but he jumped from job to job, never staying long enough to earn more than a beginner’s wage. He was a dreamer who was always convinced the grass would be greener in a new job. He kept chasing that greener grass right up until his heart attack when I was nineteen. We made sure to bury him in the greenest cemetery we could find.
In the last few years, I’d found a decent job and a small studio apartment in the city. I was almost at a place that society might deem normal. I hadn’t planned to upend that normalcy so abruptly, but as our dad used to say, sometimes life comes at you fast and hard and you need to be ready. It seemed my life had been a series of those fast and hard curveballs, but this latest was the most unexpected of all. Usually, I felt confident that I could find my way out of a problem, but I wasn’t so sure this time.
Right then, the smell of diesel and the sputter of a motor pulled my attention toward the open water. The adrenaline slowed when I saw it was only a passing pleasure boat. Being constantly on edge had come with this new life twist, too. I needed a plan and fast, but first I needed transportation other than a smoke-spewing tugboat. I pulled out my phone and sent a text. “Do you mind if I borrow Quinn’s motorcycle?”
Angie wrote right back. “Sure, if you can get it started. Does that mean we’ll be seeing you today? Max would love that.”
Her response made me smile. “I’d love to see him, too. I’ll catch a bus later this afternoon. See you then.” The day started with disaster. Maybe it would end better. I could really use that.
I turned sideways to get through the bathroom opening. Once inside, I faced the spotty mirror. Brushing my hair took caution. I’d smacked my funny bone more than once on the edge of the shower stall, and as everyone discovered early in life, there was nothing at all funny about the funny bone. Salt water had glued my hair down to my head. I turned to the shower and hung my head under the showerhead. The pipes groaned as water made its way to the shower. The dramatic sounds that came with a flip of the lever always promised a nice rush of water, but as usual, only a trickle came out. I wet my hair, toweled it dry and combed it back.
I stuck my head out of the bathroom at the slapping sound of webbed feet. Gus stood in the middle of the kitchen floor. He stared up at me with shiny black eyes and an expression that might have been his best attempt at looking contrite.
“Never again, buddy, do you hear me? You could have hurt that woman. You try that again, and I’m leaving you behind.” I still hadn’t figured out how to leave behind an animal that could soar through the air, but he understood my threat. In truth, Gus had been my closest companion for the last several months. He was helping me weather yet another dark period in my life. It seemed whenever things were going right, something or someone stepped in to throw on the brakes.
Gus took my lighter tone as an invitation and hopped up to my shoulder. “Nope, not right now, Gus. I’ve got things to do.” I turned to look at him. His beak touched my nose. “You’re staying here, buddy. And try not to scare any more beautiful women into the water.”