Chapter 26
KAI
Three days. That’s how long it had been since I’d looked my twin in the eye. Not because I was avoiding him, exactly. Just that every spare moment not on the water had been spent holed up in Jasmine’s bungalow, basking in the kind of bliss I hadn’t thought possible a week ago.
Her place had become its own world—soft light from mismatched lamps, the faint smell of acrylics, the way she laughed under her breath when a song came on shuffle she swore she didn’t like but still sang along to. It was safe in a way I hadn’t realized I’d been craving.
But it was also an escape. Because every time I pictured Reef’s face, I thought about what Jasmine had confessed, and the knot in my chest pulled tighter. I hadn’t found the words to untangle it yet, so I did the next best thing—evaded it.
If it wasn’t for work, I never would’ve left the refuge of Jasmine’s arms at all.
But charters didn’t run themselves. By the time I tied off the boat and sent the clients on their way, the sun was sinking low enough to throw a burnished glare across the marina.
Gulls shrieked overhead, the smell of fish and diesel mixing thick in the humid air.
Silas was already scrubbing the deck with his usual steady rhythm, brine and soap swirling into the scuppers.
A couple of tourists staggered down the dock with their catch bag, grinning like they’d struck gold.
It should’ve been a normal evening at the Cove.
Except Spence was sauntering toward me with Coulter at his side.
They stopped as they approached, Coulter’s arms folded across his chest, his expression unreadable. But the air around him carried weight, heavy as a storm cloud.
“Yo, Silas, you good finishing up solo?” I called to my first mate. He gave a quick nod, already bent over, scrubbing the deck. Slinging my gear bag over my shoulder, I walked toward my brothers. “What’s up?”
Coulter didn’t answer right away, just looked at me steady, eyes harder than usual. That stare alone was enough to put a lump in my throat. Coulter wasn’t the type to blow up quick; when he simmered, it meant the boil would last.
Spence shifted, scratching the back of his neck like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “I filled him in.”
My stomach dropped. “Fuck, man.”
Coulter’s voice was calm, but disappointment edged every word. “Fuck you, man. How could you keep this from me? From us? You know we’ve always had your back.”
The words stung, but pride had me bristling.
My instinct was to square my shoulders, like somehow making myself bigger would make me right.
“Under the circumstances, surely you can understand.” I jerked my chin toward the far end of the dock, leading them further away from Silas’s earshot.
“Alright. So now you know. Got any brilliant advice?” I flicked a glance at Spence.
“Because so far, we’ve come up goose eggs. ”
Coulter’s gaze never left mine. His jaw was tight enough to crack a molar. “On one hand, I think we should tell Faith. She’s smart, and she’d know how to handle this. On the other, I don’t want to put her—or any of us—at risk by pulling her into it.”
“Exactly,” I snapped. “And the same goes for Dad and Waylan. You say they’ve got secrets, but what are the chances their forty-year-old skeletons have anything to do with what’s happening now?” I waited a beat before andsweign my on question. “Slim to none.”
“You found a bale,” Coulter said. “That was bad luck. Then you called it in. Also bad luck—or bad judgment. But leaving me in the dark?” His jaw tightened further. “That wasn’t luck. That was a choice.”
Spence let out a low whistle. “He’s not wrong. And he’s really not happy about being the last to know.”
“Not cool, brother,” Coulter said, shaking his head once, each word deliberate. “Not fucking cool.”
The disappointment in his voice cut deeper than anger ever could. Guilt twisted in my gut, sharper than I wanted to admit. I hadn’t wanted to drag Coulter into this. Or his cop girlfriend.
I opened my mouth, ready to tell him I’d been protecting him, but the words stuck in my throat. Protection or not, he was right. I’d made the choice for him.
Coulter blew out a slow breath, like he was trying to get a handle on the fire still simmering. “Have you even seen those guys since? Any sign they’re still around?”
I shook my head. “Nope. They were tailing me for a while, but for a couple weeks, not a glimpse. Who knows if they’re watching, though? Could be they’ve got eyes on us right now, waiting to see what we do.”
“That’s what keeps me up at night,” Spence said, darkness lacing his words. He kicked at a coil of rope lying loose on the dock, his usual cool cracked around the edges. “We’ve been buying time, but for what? What’s the endgame here, Kai? Is there even an end in sight to this nightmare?”
I didn’t have an answer. None of us did. And that was the worst part—same questions, same silence, same dead ends.
Silence settled between us, broken only by the clank of Silas offloading the rods.
A boat horn blared from the channel, echoing against the mangroves.
Somewhere down the dock, a cooler lid slammed shut, punctuated by laughter.
The world kept turning, ordinary life humming around us, while we stood frozen in the same loop.
I stared past them, out toward the horizon where the last of the sun bled into the water. It should’ve been beautiful. Instead it looked endless, like the problem stretching out in front of us—no edge, no out, no way forward.
Coulter knew now, sure—but it didn’t make me feel any better. Because we still didn’t have a plan. It felt like we were stuck on replay, circling back to the same ground zero every time. Groundhog Day with higher stakes and worse odds.