Chapter 3 #2
Just then the two deckhands came back in, carrying a bundle of wrapped fish and chips, courtesy of Otis, clearly. They both eyed the water again and gave Gary tenuous, hopeful looks. “How’d it go?” one of them asked.
“You’re good to go,” Fray said, and those two guys couldn’t get aboard their boat fast enough.
Gary turned to Fray. “How much do I owe ya?”
“Nothing,” Fray said. “Don’t worry about it.”
Gary wanted to argue about it, but honestly, it had been nothing more than a few diagnostic tests and some time. And more than honestly, Fray was grateful for the distraction.
Fray didn’t miss the way the two deckhands were watching the water again, more intensely this time, as if they were transfixed.
Ciaran didn’t miss it, either, and neither did Gary.
Sawyer was staring at it, too, and took a step closer to it, but Ciaran took his arm to stop him from getting any closer.
Whether Gary felt the same pull to the water, or if he was just weirded out by it all, Fray wasn’t sure. But he stepped onto his boat, said his thanks again, and got the hell out of there. Fray watched them leave until the boat was swallowed by the mist and they were gone.
“So the fishermen have noticed how quiet it is out there, and now there’s electrical interference too,” Fray said, turning to Ciaran.
But Ciaran had Sawyer back up to the far wall, keeping him away from the water. “Are you good?” Ciaran asked Sawyer. He spoke so gently, so tenderly, it made Fray’s chest ache.
Sawyer’s eyes finally met Ciaran’s in what looked like a concerted effort to drag his gaze from the water. He was a little breathless—and scared. “Yeah, yeah, I’m okay. It’s just...”
“Strong? The pull to the water?”
Sawyer swallowed and nodded. “Yeah. Like a wave. I don’t know. I should, uh... I should get back to the station. Want some lunch? How about I make us some lunch.”
“Okay,” Ciaran said, concerned. “Good idea.” He kept his grip on Sawyer’s arm but gave Fray a look over his shoulder. “Walk with us.”
“Yeah, of course,” Fray said, following them out the door. Getting Sawyer away from the water was a good idea, and as soon as they crossed the road, Sawyer stopped walking, took a deep breath, and shook off whatever hold it had on him.
Ciaran seemed to relax too. He cupped Sawyer’s cheek. “That was intense, huh?”
Sawyer nodded. “Yeah. I’m okay now, though.”
Ciaran pressed his lips to Sawyer’s, then turned to Fray. “I need to go see Tobin. Can you stay with Sawyer for a minute?”
Fray nodded. “Sure.”
Ciaran studied him for a beat. “Hey, uh, how are you feeling? You okay?”
Fray was taken aback for a second, not sure what Ciaran was getting at. “You mean am I over my broken heart yet? Uh, no.” Even the mention of it, the mere thought of Tobin, made Fray’s whole chest ache. “Thanks for bringing that up, though. Love that for me.”
Ciaran’s gaze dropped to where Fray was rubbing his chest, and something flashed in Ciaran’s eyes. Something that looked a lot like pity. He sighed. “Man, I’m so sorry.”
Fray shrugged it off because what else could he freaking do? Then, doing what Fray did best, he made a joke about it. “Well, there’s nothing quite like having all three hearts broken.”
“Even the heart that pumps blood directly to your dick?” Sawyer asked.
Fray snorted out a laugh, so grateful for Sawyer’s attempt at cheering him up. “Especially that one.”
Ciaran chuckled and gave Sawyer’s hand a squeeze. “Won’t be long.” He then gave Fray a look that said “Please look after the most precious thing in the world to me” before he turned and headed for Tobin’s place.
“I have to say,” Sawyer said as they walked toward the police station, “that third heart just might be my favourite.”
Fray laughed again and gave Sawyer a playful shove. “Pervert.”
Sawyer laughed, and he looked so freaking happy. So content, as if he’d won every single thing he’d ever wished for. It was the same look Ciaran had when he looked at Sawyer, and damn if it didn’t make Fray’s hearts ache some more.
“So what do you think is up with the fishing boat losing electrics?” Sawyer asked as he began pulling ingredients out of his fridge. “I mean, it’s gotta be related to what’s going on here, right? With what’s-her-name coming back.”
Fray gave a nod. “It’s possible.”
Sawyer set about making some sandwiches while he talked, but Fray must have zoned out at some point because he realised far too late that Sawyer had stopped talking, and he was looking at Fray with the same kind of pity Ciaran had earlier. “You okay, Fray?”
“Yeah, sure,” he replied automatically.
“Maybe I’d believe you if you stopped rubbing your chest.” Sawyer walked over to him, looking up into his eyes.
Sawyer’s eyes were such a fantastic pale blue, it was no wonder Ciaran was mesmerised.
He gave Fray a sad smile. “I’m sorry you’re going through this.
For what it’s worth, Tobin would be a fool not to want you.
You’re a total catch, and he’s an idiot and a jerk. ”
Fray snorted. “Gee, thanks.”
“He doesn’t seem to like me much,” Sawyer said with a shrug. “So clearly he has no taste.”
“Clearly,” Fray said, though he totally did not agree. Tobin was kinda perfect, but Fray wasn’t about to say that. “And for what it’s worth in return, I don’t think it’s you he has the problem with. Not personally, anyway.”
“Just the whole ‘terrible timing and taking Ciaran away from his duties’ thing?”
Fray sighed. “Something like that. Not sure, to be honest. He’s been... I dunno. Distant. He’s not been himself lately.”
“Can I tell you something?” he asked. “Ciaran told me, and he didn’t specifically tell me not to tell you, so I don’t think it’ll be a problem. I mean, Ciaran would probably tell you soon enough, but he hasn’t had a minute alone with you since...”
Fray’s insides were an uneasy knot, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. It’d be so much easier if he was underwater in freeform, far away. “Tell me what?”
“The girl he brought back,” Sawyer said with an apologetic wince. “He didn’t sleep with her. He didn’t.... She wanted to, but he turned her down. Twice.”
A shudder ran through Fray as he fought the instinct to shift, and he blinked away any residual trace of his cephamorphic eyes. Hearing what Sawyer said just now should have made him feel better. It should have been relief and joy. But nope. He just felt... wrong.
He swallowed hard and tried to shake it off again.
“Well... good, I guess,” he mumbled and ran his hand over his face.
At least he could stop imagining in very vivid detail what he’d pictured them doing.
“Not that it matters. He’s free to do whatever he wants.
Or free not to do.” He shrugged. “Whatever. I don’t know. ”
Sawyer frowned, and his eyes were full of pity, which was the last thing Fray needed right now. “You wanna know what I think?”
Not really. “Sure.”
“I think he’s feeling some kind of way and doesn’t know what to do about it.”
“Some kind of way,” Fray repeated. “Like an arsehole? A selfish jerk?”
Sawyer laughed. “Maybe. I don’t know what he was like before I arrived. I just assumed he was always a bit snippy.”
Fray snorted. “Snippy. No, snippy is Ciaran. Well, it was. Now he’s all smiles and heart-eyes.
Tobin used to be happy. At least I think he was?
I mean, he was always quiet and would opt for solitude a bit, but he was funny, smart, would do anything to help anyone.
Now he’s just... unhappy.” Fray shrugged. “And angry.”
“I thought he was angry at me.” Sawyer sighed. “At me turning up here at the worst possible time. Angry at me for monopolising Ciaran’s time. But you and Ciaran both said that’s not true. So, is he angry at the whole mate thing?”
Fray sighed and relented a shrug. “I honestly don’t know. He certainly won’t talk to me. He’s avoiding me. I mean, he’s avoiding everyone, I think. But maybe me the most. We used to be friends, at least. And now.... Well, lately we haven’t even been that.”
Sawyer’s gaze went to Fray’s chest again, making Fray realise he was rubbing his sternum. “You keep doing that.”
Fray dropped his hand. “Yeah, sorry.”
“It’s, uh.... It looks familiar.” His eyes met Fray’s. “Does it burn behind your sternum?”
“Kinda. A bit. I’ll get over it. I have a lot of years of unrequited pining to get over. And three broken hearts, so...”
He’d meant it as a joke, but Sawyer didn’t even smile.
“I don’t think you will,” he murmured.
“Don’t think I’ll what?”
“Get over it,” he replied.
“Gee, thanks.”
He opened his mouth to say something else, but Ciaran came through the door. “Hey,” he said to Sawyer as if to stop him from saying whatever it was he was about to say. He went to him and slid his arm around Sawyer’s waist, pulling him close.
They’d only been apart for a few minutes, but even that was too long, apparently. Because new love and finding your mate was soooo wonderful....
Fray tried not to think about that.
“Everything okay?” Fray asked instead, with a smile he didn’t feel. “With Tobin?”
Ciaran gave an apologetic nod. “He’s taking the boat out toward the Trench to see if his navigation plays up like Gary’s did.”
“He went alone? What if his boat loses power?” Fray didn’t like this. He didn’t like it one bit.
“No. I sent Aurin with him,” Ciaran said. “Then they’ll head to Southport to pick up the Norwegians. He’ll be gone for two days.”
Fray felt wrong. Every part of him felt pulled out of shape in opposing directions. He actually felt nauseous. Instead of rubbing his sternum, he pressed his hand against his gut. “Ugh.”
“You okay?” Ciaran asked. “I mean, I know you’re not, Fray, but...”
“I don’t feel too good,” he replied. “Maybe I ate something that’s not agreeing with me.”
Sawyer gestured to the half-made sandwiches. “But we haven’t eaten yet.”
Fray grimaced, the knot in his belly tightening. “Two days, huh? Two days isn’t so bad. I, uh... I might spend most of that in freeform, though, not gonna lie. It helps, right?”
Ciaran gave him a sad smile. “Fray.”
“No, it’s fine. Two days. You spent two days at the hut, trying to avoid your feelings, and it totally worked, right?”
It absolutely did not work. It made everything worse, and they both knew it.
Ciaran grimaced. “Yeah, no. It didn’t. But freeform helps, yes. I’ll go with you.” He shot Sawyer a quick glance that was clearly a code for back me up here.
“Yes, yes,” Sawyer said quickly. “Great idea. You should go. I’ll go hang out with Otis for a bit. He’ll stop me from... you know... taking a dive to the bottom of the Cove and... you know, dying.”
Fray snorted at the look of panic on Sawyer’s face. He couldn’t help it. “It’s fine,” Fray told them. “I actually could use some alone time. But thanks, Ciar. I appreciate it. You should stay with Sawyer.”
“Fray,” Ciaran tried.
“No, honestly, it’s fine. I’m fine. I just need...” He let out a slow breath. “I need some time to think and decompress. I’ve got two days to master my everything’s-fine smile before he gets back, right?”
Ciaran winced. “Fuck,” he murmured. “I hate this.”
Fray plastered the biggest fake smile he could manage on his face and peeled his T-shirt over his head. “Time to go freeform and maybe smack some fish.”
Sawyer laughed—until Fray whipped off his shorts and stood there in all his naked glory. “Oh.”
“Jesus, Fray,” Ciaran griped as he tried to cover Sawyer’s eyes.
That made Fray laugh, at least. It felt good, even if didn’t last long. He walked out and across the road to the jetty, stark naked. Hendrix wolf-whistled from outside the store, and Dylan laughed. Fray gave them both a salute as he walked off the pier and fell into the water.
He morphed into freeform on reflex, letting the cold, dark water envelope him, and then he sank down to the bottom and cried.