Chapter Nine
The next morning was nothing but blue sky and heat rising off the black rock cliffs.
The island smelled of salt, hibiscus, and heat.
Black Tide decided to take the morning off to do something none of them were exactly good at—teach Drew how to surf.
Every one of them could paddle into a heavy set, drop in clean, stall deep in the barrel, and ride it all the way until the wave spat them out onto the sand, but teach a grom how to surf? Not really their strong suit.
Before they took to the water, they each viewed as their second home, Drew took a moment to look at the men who had somehow become his family.
Kael, solid and commanding, his dark hair pulled back and those storm-colored eyes always scanning the horizon.
Niko, the quiet one with the fighter’s body and a mind that never stopped calculating, tattoos running up his neck like pieces of art.
Tane, broad-shouldered and calm, the team’s heart as much as its hammer, the kind of man who spoke more with a look than words.
Keanu, all mischief and confidence, his grin as sharp as the shark inked on his skin, the spark that lit the group’s laughter.
And Luca—the youngest, their tech genius, lean and fast, eyes always bright with too much caffeine and too many ideas.
Together, they looked less like assassins and more like brothers born of the same tide, bound by unspoken loyalty and the kind of affection only earned in the dark.
They’d driven down to a wide, sandy stretch where the reef broke the waves into long, gentle runs.
Kael stood beside him, board under one arm, hair tied back, shoulders bronzed and slick with salt air.
The rest of the team—Niko, Tane, Keanu, and Luca—looked like they’d stepped straight out of a tourist fantasy—sun-browned, muscle cut, and laughing like they owned the ocean.
Drew couldn’t help grinning. “You all realize you look like an ad for a protein powder company, right?”
Niko smirked, running a hand through his dark hair. “What can I say, bro? We’re genetically superior.”
Tane chuckled low in his chest. “Genetics has nothing to do with it. Ocean raises you different.”
Keanu flashed his shark-tooth grin, tattoos twisting over his biceps. “You gonna stand there talking, haole, or you gonna learn to surf?”
“Foreigner, huh?” Drew shot back. “Guess I deserve that.”
Kael laughed, clapping him on the back. “Come on, ipo. We’ll start you small. Promise not to drown you on your first day.”
They waded out through knee-deep surf, boards bumping against their legs.
Drew tried to mimic their easy balance, but every step reminded him how landlocked his life had been.
The first wave sent him sprawling. The second dumped him face-first into salt and foam.
By the third, even Kael was laughing too hard to give him any direction whatsoever.
“Keep your feet under you, Hawkins!” Luca called out from his board, effortlessly coasting across the whitewash. “You’re supposed to ride the wave, not wrestle it!”
“Pretty sure the wave started it,” Drew coughed, pushing his hair out of his face.
Niko paddled past and slapped his board. “Try again. You’re overthinking it. You move with the water, not against it.”
“Easy for you to say,” Drew muttered. “You make it look as easy as breathing.”
Kael paddled back beside him, expression soft with amusement. “He’s right, though. Stop fighting it. You don’t have to control everything, Drew.”
Drew shot him a crooked smile. “You trying to make this a metaphor for life?”
Kael’s grin deepened. “If the board fits.”
By midday, Drew managed to stand for all of five glorious seconds before eating water again. The cheer that went up from the guys could’ve been heard halfway across the island.
They hauled up on the beach after, boards resting in the sand. The team spread out under a stand of palms, unpacking coolers and baskets. Aunty Leilani had packed them food—poke bowls, kalua pork sliders, taro chips, and haupia squares that Luca immediately hoarded.
Music drifted from Kael’s speaker—Maoli’s Heartstrings rolling out easy over the sound of the surf. Keanu had a ukulele balanced on his knee, plucking soft chords while Niko and Tane argued good-naturedly about who wiped out hardest.
“Pretty sure it was Drew,” Luca called out through a mouthful of chips.
Drew pointed his fork at him. “Pretty sure I can feed you to a shark, tech boy.”
Kael laughed, leaning back on his elbows beside him. “Don’t mind them. It’s how we show love.”
“By mockery and attempted drowning?” Drew teased.
“Exactly.” Kael’s grin was wide and boyish, sunlight catching the edges of his tattoos.
As the afternoon stretched, Drew leaned back against Kael’s shoulder, watching his new family. For the first time in years, he felt something like belonging settle deep in his chest. The rhythm of laughter, the music, the salt—it all felt real.
Then something shifted. A prickle crawled up his spine.
Kael noticed his sudden stillness. “What is it?”
Drew scanned the ridge near the parking lot. “Don’t know. Feels like eyes on us.”
Kael’s posture changed instantly—relaxed but alert. He followed Drew’s gaze and spotted movement near the cars. A man lingered there, watching them too long to be casual. Average build, neat dark hair, mirrored sunglasses that caught the sun just right.
“You see him?” Drew murmured.
Kael nodded once. “Yeah. Not local. Stance is wrong. Military, maybe.”
When they looked again, the man was gone.
Kael exhaled slowly. “He’s gone now. Probably nothing.”
“Probably,” Drew echoed, though the unease stayed. He recognized that kind of stillness—the kind of presence that didn’t belong.
Kael bumped his shoulder lightly. “Hey. Don’t see fire where there’s only smoke.”
Drew nodded, forcing a smile. “Yeah. I’m good.”
But as the sun dipped behind the horizon and the tide pulled the laughter away with it, he couldn’t shake the feeling that their peace had just been marked with a countdown.
They packed up, and as they headed toward the trucks, Kael’s hand brushed his. “You did good today,” he murmured.
“Didn’t drown. I’ll call that a win.”
Kael chuckled, leaning close enough that Drew caught the warmth of his breath. “You know what else is a win?”
Drew smirked. “I have a feeling you’re about to tell me.”
“Getting you back to the camper before the sun’s completely gone.”
Drew laughed, letting Kael tug him along the sand. Behind them, the rest of Black Tide’s laughter followed—familiar, teasing, utterly unguarded.
The calm before the storm, Drew thought.
Turns out, he wasn’t wrong.
****
It was the early hours of the morning when Kael woke.
The rhythmic crash of waves reached the camper in long, lazy intervals, and the scent of salt still clung to the air.
Drew was asleep, sprawled against him, the rise and fall of his chest slow and even.
The man had been dead on his feet after the day of sun and surf, lulled by laughter, salt air, and exhaustion.
Kael eased out of bed quietly, careful not to wake him.
The floor was cool under his bare feet as he crossed to the small sink.
Outside, the compound was still and dark.
A few motion lights glowed near the garage, casting long shadows over the parked trucks.
The quiet should have been peaceful—but it wasn’t.
Something in the air had changed. That nagging sense of being watched hadn’t faded since the beach.
He stood there, bottle of cold water in hand, staring out at the darkness, trying to pinpoint what was wrong.
His phone buzzed in his pocket.
He pulled it out, thumb swiping across the screen. A message from Marsh blinked up at him, followed by a video file. Security feed—car park. You’re going to want to see this.
Kael set the mug aside and hit play. The feed was grainy, distant, showing the small parking area from that afternoon.
He scrubbed forward until he found it—the man Drew had noticed.
A shape in the corner of the frame, blurred by heat and glare.
He was good—never giving the camera a clean angle.
Every movement deliberate. Every reflection used to his advantage.
Kael’s stomach tightened. “Smart bastard,” he muttered.
Another ping vibrated in his hand.
A second video. Marsh’s message—Got him. Caught his reflection off a side mirror. You owe me beer.
Kael opened it. There—faint, but clear enough to make out a face. Mid-thirties. Sharp eyes. Controlled expression. The kind of man who’d been trained not to be seen, and who had just made a very big mistake.
Kael stared at the screen until the image seared into memory. He didn’t know the name yet, but he would. And when he found him, there would be no second chances.
He forwarded the image to the Black Tide group thread, including Drew. Eyes open. This guy’s the one from the beach. Don’t engage alone.
Luca’s reply came within seconds. Already running facial recognition. I’ll ping you if I get a hit.
Tane followed with a single line. You want me to start a watch rotation?
Kael typed back. No. Keep it quiet for now. Let’s not spook anyone until we know who we’re dealing with.
He stared out at the night again. The compound looked peaceful, but the quiet felt thinner now, stretched too tight. He locked the phone and set it face down on the counter, letting the weight of it settle in his chest.
When he finally climbed back into bed, Drew instinctively shifted closer. Kael wrapped his arms around him, pulling him in until Drew’s back rested against his chest. The man murmured something soft, half-asleep.
“All good?” Drew’s voice was hoarse with sleep.
Kael pressed a kiss against his temple. “Yeah, all good. Go back to sleep.”
Drew made a small sound of contentment, settling again.