Chapter 39
THIRTY-NINE
Excitement and dread fill me as I gather my gear. We’re running late because I had to pull Nash out of Sloan’s bed, where he seemingly spent the night all cuddled up and shit.
I’m just mad I didn’t think of sneaking in first when we all went to bed. I assumed she was tired from the long day of rushing around. But deep down, I had a feeling she wouldn’t want to be alone after everything that happened.
Okay, maybe I’m glad Nash was with her because I wouldn’t have been a calming presence, being nervous as fuck about what I’m about to do today. Telling them I would step in for Tim was such an impulsive decision. I hadn’t fully considered what it really meant when I told them.
It means I have to go on a boat and take us on the ocean, ensuring they stay safe while I try to remember how to navigate a boat again.
It’s been seven fucking years.
I might have obsessively checked the weather forecast last night. There’s a storm brewing on the ocean, but it should pass us by. We should only feel the wind from it, which is okay.
I can handle wind.
At least, I used to be able to.
Nash steps up beside me at the coat rack, grinning from ear to ear as he puts on his jacket. “So, brother, ready for your big comeback?”
I give him a small smile. “You know it’s just until Tim’s back, right?”
I did not give up the CEO position to be with Lio, only to return to the ocean full-time.
I’ve done my time on the water.
“Sure.” Nash winks just as Sloan steps up to us. She looks adorably rumpled, still in one of the white satin pajama sets I bought her.
God, I’d love to just grab her and pull her up to my room, fuck everything else.
But I can’t.
I gave my word.
Nash turns to kiss her and whispers something in her ear, eliciting a smile from her. Then she whispers, “I love you too.”
On his way out to the car, Nash calls into the kitchen, “Bye, boss! Bye, Li-Li!”
I step up to Sloan and cradle her face in my hands, leaning in for a gentle, soft kiss before nipping at her bottom lip. “Behave for me today,” I whisper close to her ear.
I want to tell her I love her, just like Nash did, but I hesitate, wondering if it’s too soon. Before I can decide, she softly says, “Will do, see you later. I love you.” Her eyes radiate adoration as she looks up at me.
“Wow, did you really just say that?” I can’t help but grin, feeling my heart soar with joy.
“Fuck,” she curses under her breath, averting her gaze, but I gently tilt her chin up, encouraging her to meet my eyes again. “I guess I did,” she whispers, a blush spreading across her cheeks.
“I love you too,” I whisper back, sealing my words with another kiss, this one deeper, more fervent. Her hands rise to grasp my wrists.
“Be careful out there, okay? Bring him back to me, just like yourself,” she murmurs against my lips when we break apart.
“I’ll do my best, baby,” I reassure her, but she tightens her grip on my wrists, concern in her eyes.
“Promise,” she insists.
I know I can’t make such a guarantee, but I promise anyway, both to comfort her and to reassure myself. “Promise,” I echo, giving her one more kiss.
Hunter and Lio come out from the kitchen, ready to leave too.
“Sorry you have to go today, but that appointment was made weeks ago,” I apologize to Hunter, who just shrugs it off while I stroke over Lio’s head.
“Don’t worry, we know the drill. Right, bud?” he asks Lio, who grins up at him.
“Can we go whale watching with Uncle Nash this weekend, Daddy?” Lio’s question warms my heart. His wanting me to join their special activity makes me proud.
“What about me?” Sloan asks, feigning a pout, and Lio giggles.
“No, it’s just for boys this time,” he tells her, and Sloan gasps dramatically.
Fuck, I love her.
“You little traitor,” she accuses playfully, scooping him up and turning him upside down. “Say that again!” Lio’s laughter fills the room as she carries him off toward the living room. “Bye, Daddy!” he yells, still giggling.
I turn to Hunter, who looks at me with a knowing gaze. “You good, bro?” he asks, understanding I’m anything but.
“Sure, see you later?” I reply, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze.
“Yeah, we’ll make pasta for dinner,” he says with a smile.
“Can’t wait.” Letting him go, I head out to the car, where Nash is already waiting in the passenger seat.
We stop at the shipyard for Nash to change into his fishing bibs, and my heart is pounding against my chest. It’s been years since I last set foot on a boat, and the idea of going back out there stirs a deep-seated fear in me.
Nash is chattering, but it all goes right over my head. All I can do is try to concentrate on what I’m about to do and not freak out.
As we approach the harbor, my steps become heavier. The sight of The Saylor waiting at the dock makes my knees feel like jelly. I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself, and Nash throws me a knowing look but says nothing.
“Come on, you got this,” I mutter, stepping onto the boat. My knees buckle slightly, but I manage to regain my balance. I breathe through the panic, reminding myself I’m a fantastic captain.
Or at least I was.
Onboard, we meet Sebastian, the greenhorn, and Steven, another of Nash’s yearlong crewmates. I don’t know Sebastian or Steven very well, but he’s always been reliable with Tim. He’s quiet, which I appreciated in the past.
Once inside the wheelhouse, I take more deep breaths in an attempt to slow my racing heart while Nash and the others loosen the ropes.
My breath falters as the boat starts to move, the harsh wind hitting us, but it’s manageable.
I give myself a shake to dispel the nerves that have been prevalent since agreeing to this, taking the helm and feeling the boat respond to my touch.
It’s like I never stopped. Like these past seven years were just a brief pause. The nervousness begins to fade, replaced by a growing confidence.
I still have it.
Nash, sensing my easing tension, starts to tease, “Look at you, man, back at sea. Did you forget how to swim too?”
I can’t help but chuckle. “Only one way to find out. You first.”
His laughter mixes with the sound of the waves, the banter helping, and I find myself relaxing more, the familiarity of the ocean comforting.
There was a time when nothing felt more like home than this.
As the water grows rougher, I focus on navigating the ship. It’s a challenge, but one that makes my blood pump in a good way. The feeling of being in control, of mastering the waves and wind, it’s something I’d forgotten how much I loved.
“Doing good, Maestro,” Nash calls out over the wind, a grin on his face.
“Shut up and get those lobsters, Fingers,” I yell back, a smile creeping onto my face. The fear and doubt are still lurking in the back of my mind, but for now, they’re overshadowed by the thrill of being back where I belong—at sea, at the helm of my boat, with my brother by my side.
But after maybe an hour or two, the weather shifts abruptly. Dark clouds roll in, bringing with them a violent storm that takes us all by surprise. Panic starts to seep back into my veins, and all I can think is that this is how it started last time.
“Not again, please God, not again,” I pray, trying to push back the rising tide of fear while I change course, trying to return to the harbor as fast as possible.
Fuck that delivery.
The sea turns treacherous, waves crashing against the hull with force. The wind howls like a beast unleashed, tearing through the air with a deafening roar. I can barely hear the shouts of the crew over the racket, their voices lost in the storm.
I grip the wheel, fighting to keep The Saylor from capsizing.
Reality and memories start to blur, each wave bringing flashes of that fateful day, making it hard to focus.
Hard to think straight. I try to radio the harbor, but the signal is lost in the storm, and we’re being pushed farther away by the relentless current.
No matter what I try, we’re getting pushed out instead of back in.
The protocol would be to steer us out to the ocean to position ourselves behind the storm, but since I checked the weather forecast religiously last night, I know there is no behind for miles. It’s a big storm, and we would have to go way too far out.
Realizing the danger, I bellow orders over the wind, commanding the crew to take shelter in the wheelhouse. Steven and Sebastian follow my instructions.
When I catch Nash’s eyes, he’s still next to the crane, having only just unclipped himself, concern etched on his face.
He probably knows I’m on the brink of freezing in fear.
He takes a step toward the wheelhouse, but the boat lurches violently to the left.
We all lose our footing, and Steven and Sebastian fall to their knees behind me.
Still, I don’t let go of the wheel, pulling myself up and throwing all I have into it, stabilizing us, managing to level the boat after a heart-stopping moment.
But when I look back to where Nash was, he’s gone.
No, please, no.
My heart plummets. I rush out of the wheelhouse, fuck the danger, my eyes scanning the turbulent water as I grip the railing. Then I see him struggling, swept away by the relentless waves, his arms flailing, his screams barely audible over the storm.
Adrenaline surges through me. “Nash!” I shout, my voice hoarse. Panic and determination collide within me as I grab a lifebuoy. Throwing it toward him with all my might, I keep my eyes locked on his struggling form, praying he’ll reach it in time.
The storm rages on, each second stretching into an eternity. The fear is overwhelming, but I can’t let it consume me. Not now. Nash needs me. I need to be the captain they all rely on, the one who brings them home safely.
I promised Sloan I’d bring him back.
But Nash is being swept away with no chance of grabbing the buoy, and I know I have to act fast. It’s a split-second decision.
Nobody gets left behind.
I’m not going to lose another brother like this.
I struggle to tie a rope around my waist with shaking hands.
Hunter managed to get Saylor back. I can make sure we don’t lose Nash.
Steven comes out from the wheelhouse, trying to talk to me, to stop me, but I’m adamant.
“Get the wheel and keep the boat close!” I yell at him, already feeling the force of the storm pulling us away from Nash.
“Tell Lio… fuck… tell Sloan and Hunter I’m sorry,” I shout over the howling wind, my heart pounding in my chest.
Without a second thought, I turn and leap into the churning waters.
The shock of the cold water is like a punch to the gut, making me lose my breath, and I have to hurry back to the surface to take a deep breath.
The sea tosses me around mercilessly, a human caught in a washing machine of waves.
For every inch I gain toward Nash, the rope around my waist yanks me back two, the boat drifting further into the storm.
I can barely see him anymore, and panic holds its icy grip around my throat, making it even more difficult to keep breathing.
I’m not going to make it to him with the rope.
And he’s wearing those damn bibs, which are probably pulling him under fast.
In a desperate move, I grip the rope and pull myself loose.
Free from the tether, I push through the waves, every muscle straining as I swim toward Nash.
When I finally reach him, he’s floating, unconscious, waves crashing over him.
The next wave hits, and he doesn’t resurface.
I take a deep breath and dive after him, just able to grip his sweater and pull.
I slip my arms under his and kick hard to bring us to the surface again, where we finally break through with a gasp.
Pulling Nash’s head back over my shoulder, I mutter, “I’ve got you. ”
Keeping us both afloat is a struggle as the storm rages around us, showing no signs of mercy.
The ice-cold water quickly saps the feeling in my arms and legs.
Somehow, I manage to remove Nash’s bibs while still holding him afloat, and he’s ten times lighter, making it easier to tread water, but when I look up again, my heart sinks even more.
The boat is barely visible anymore. We’ve drifted miles apart.
As we’re tossed by the relentless sea some more, realization dawns on me.
This is it.
Our parents are going to lose two more sons.
I think of Lio, who’s now going to be an orphan just when I got my shit together to start being a good dad for him. At least I know he will be fine with Hunter and Sloan by his side.
Hunter, who’s already suffered so much loss and barely made it out the other side.
This is going to break him.
Then, my thoughts drift to Sloan.
Fuck. Why did I hesitate to tell her I love her?
I’m so fucking glad she did. I would hate myself even more if I was going to drown without having told her.
The sea roars around us, and I hold onto Nash tighter, determined to fight until the very end.
Nothing is lost as long as we’re still breathing.
For Lio, for Sloan, for my family.
For the fleeting chance we might make it out of this.