30. Morgan
THIRTY
Morgan
Sunlight warms my back. A small pod of orcas joined us a few hours ago, playing in our wake and looking for scraps. Seagulls call to each other jovially as they glide and soar overhead, some boldly swooping down to steal from our catch.
Cole charted our course to finish at the family grounds so we can be close to Seb before we head back to the docks. We couldn’t have asked for a better last day hauling pots. Even the weather is unseasonably warm.
Lawrence stretches his arms over his head, baring his abs on the sides of his bib.
“Please tell me you’re wearing pants,” I say.
“Only one way to find out. Come over here and check.”
“Lawless, don’t flirt with my husband,” Cole says over the PA.
Lawrence’s laugh turns into a yawn as he sorts crab. “Man, I can’t wait to sleep in my own bed.”
“When we get home, I’m sleeping for a week.” Alejo slides a crab to Javi. “What about you?”
“I don’t know.” Javi steers the crab into the chute. “Let’s just finish the trip first.”
Lawrence sighs loud enough to be heard over the ocean and heavy machinery, a feat only he could accomplish. “You’re exhausting.”
“Me?” Javi scoffs.
Lawrence passes a crab to Javi like a hockey puck.
“Slow down,” Javi says.
“Work faster,” Lawrence snips back.
Alejo and I trade glances across the table.
Sensing an argument on the horizon, I force myself to do one of my least favorite activities: small talk. “I’m looking forward to—”
“We know,” Lawrence interrupts, sending another crab Javi’s way. “Sex with your best friend. A happily ever after. A kid you can dump at Javi’s place on date nights because he won’t be going anywhere.”
“Fuck off, Lawless,” Javi growls.
Alejo’s gaze ping-pongs between them with growing worry. A traffic jam of crab is starting to pile up. I could really use Wes down here, but Cole called him up to the wheelhouse to talk about next season.
“Knock it off.” I reach past Javi to break up the traffic jam. “You two fight like an old married couple. You’re worse than me and Cole.”
“Married couple?” Lawrence drops a rejected crab into the plastic tote at his side. “That’ll never happen. I’m not marriage material.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Javi says.
“Why? What’s in it for me?” His lips twist into a smirk that promises destruction. “We’re not friends. I’m just a guy you jerk off with sometimes until you get back together with your girl on land.”
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Javi shouts.
“Lawrence, quit your bullshit,” Cole says over the PA.
“Maybe I should tell Gabi,” Lawrence continues, unperturbed. “She deserves to know, doesn’t she? I mean, I’d want to know if the man I was about to marry is a coward with a crush on his best friend. Gabi deserves someone who isn’t settling for her.”
“I said shut the fuck up.” Javi slips behind me, and barrels toward Lawrence, leading with his fist.
“That’s enough!” I grab Javi’s arm and drag him away from Lawrence before he can connect.
Javi comes willingly, all the fight fleeing him, something I didn’t prepare for. We both stagger back a few paces before I catch myself inches away from the rail.
“Shit, Lawrence. I’m sorry.” Javi shakes me off and rushes forward, hands outspread, stopping short when Lawrence flinches.
“You were going to hit me,” Lawrence says, brow furrowed like it’s just an observation, a scientific experiment with a surprising outcome. Zero emotion.
“Lawless…”
“You’re my best friend and you were going to hit me?” Anger slips into his tone, before he laughs mirthlessly. “I thought you said you would never touch me again.”
Javi rips off his gloves and gently takes Lawrence’s face in his hands. “I’m sorry.”
Lawrence slants his gaze toward the deck, blond hair falling forward to shield his face. “How many ways are you going to hurt me?”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Yeah. You keep saying that.” Lawrence pulls Javi’s hands down, then steps out of his reach. “Congratulations. You got your wish. I’m done with you.”
The deck sways. The wind kicks up. Then Javi nods. Lawrence nods too, as if Javi did exactly what he expected him to do—leave him without a fight. He rakes his hair back from his forehead and turns on his heel toward the gear room.
The bulkhead door bursts open, and Cole storms out. “Turn your ass back around, Lawless. We’re not done sorting crab. Fuck you for outing Javi when he wasn’t ready.”
“Roger,” Lawrence says sullenly.
Cole charges past Lawrence toward Javi. “What the actual fuck is wrong with you? We don’t lay hands on each other.
Ever. Especially on deck. It’s already a goddamn death trap.
You’d never forgive yourself if you shoved someone over the rail, and I’d never forgive you if that someone was my husband.
” He stabs a finger toward me. “Which is exactly what you almost did!”
I’m not going to lie, it’s really hot watching my golden retriever of a husband lose his shit on someone to defend me, but I see the fear behind his fury.
Javi glances back at me, face pale, hand over his mouth like he’s going to be sick.
“I’m okay,” I say, gaze on Cole. “I’m still here.”
A wave slams into the starboard side. The deck tilts to portside, but we all manage to stay upright.
“Sorry,” Wes says over the PA. “That one snuck up on me—WATCH OUT FOR THAT CRAB POT!”
My stomach drops. The wave knocked the 800-pound trap off the locks on the hydraulic lift, and the trap teeters on the verge of falling onto the deck. Cole and Javi are directly in the path, wedged between the sorting table and the rail.
No. No. No. This can’t be happening.
Terror wraps a hand around my heart. I feel like I’m in one of my recurrent nightmares where my legs are too heavy to lift, like they’re trapped in cement, and I won’t be able to do anything except watch Cole die again.
Time slows down. All sound fades away except for my pulse pounding in my ears and the churning waves.
I lunge forward, and grab one side of the trap, and push it back toward the ocean as hard as I can.
I’m not strong enough to stop it, but I have to try.
Lawrence joins me on the opposite side of the trap, face warped into fierce defiance, veins popping in his neck, an angry stranger I’ve never met.
It’s probably what he looked like when he beat the shit out of his stepdad.
But even with his help, fighting gravity and the weight of the trap is impossible.
I meet Cole’s gaze, offering him the comfort of eye contact as he faces down death. It’s the only tool I have left. He looks as terrified as the night he almost died, as terrified as the night he stopped me from jumping over the rail after his phantom doppelg?nger.
My arms tremble as my strength drains. God, I wish I could take Cole’s place. He doesn’t deserve to die in such a painful way when he already survived that kind of pain.
Then, the Briar corrects, rolling to starboard and knocking the trap back over the rail and into the ocean.
I exhale. We can afford to lose a couple grand in crab and equipment, but I can’t lose Cole again. I can’t lose any of them—
My feet rip out from under me. Pain slices into my ankle, a bite from the coiled rope I must have tangled myself in. Fuck. I’m usually so careful.
I slam onto my back on the deck. Hard. I open my mouth to scream for help, but the force of impact knocked the air from my lungs with the same intensity as when I jumped into the near-freezing water to rescue Cole.
“Morgan!” Cole screams, running toward me.
He won’t be fast enough. The symmetry is not lost on me as the rope rips me down the deck and toward the rail like the tentacles of a sea monster dragging me into the depths.
I fight to free myself, scrambling to kick off my boot, to grab the rope, to grab anything.
Hell, I even try digging my fingernails in the wood to buy me time, but my gloves are in the way, and I’m out of time.
The rope runs out of length. My feet leave the deck, and my legs follow suit. Fleeting milliseconds are all I have left before a fatal ride to the bottom of the ocean with the crab trap.
Finn is going to be devastated. I promised I would come back, and I’d bring Cole back with me, but now he’ll have to suffer through losing another parent.
At least he’ll still have Cole. This trip changed him. He won’t abandon Finn. I just wish my death wasn’t going to hurt him. He better not blame himself again.
Fuck. I’m going to miss them.
A heavy weight crashes into me as Cole tackles me in a blur of motion, and straddles my lap, digging his knees into my sides.
The rope strangles my ankle at the sudden stop, and the strain on my leg is excruciating, but there’s no limit to the pain I’ll take to stay with him and Finn.
Lawrence skids to my side like he’s trying to steal home base, and pins my shoulders to the deck.
Javi slams his body over my legs, yanking them back to the ground.
Alejo sprints toward us, but he’s too far away. “Cole, catch!” He tosses his folding knife.
Cole snatches it from the air, flips it open, and swivels toward my feet. Metal strikes metal. The rope severs. My feet fall back onto the deck with Cole still straddling my lap.
“I go where you go,” he says between frantic breaths as he presses his forehead against mine. “And we’re both going home.”
Tears glaze my vision. I hide inside Cole’s irises, catching my breath while my sluggish thoughts process how close I came to death, and my heart races ahead, still hopped up on adrenaline.
I wrap an arm around Cole, hauling him closer, and kiss him. “Let’s go home then.”
Cole told me some fishermen believe fallen sailors return as seagulls. I don’t know where souls lost at sea go when they die, but maybe they become the ocean, and when you miss them, you can summon them.
Maybe when you feel lost without your captain, he can lead you back to the boat that made your crew a family, and lure you out on deck, not to drown you, but to help you find a way back to your husband.
Maybe a fallen captain can appear to his crew to help the new captain realize how much his crew needs him. Maybe he can save them.
Or maybe it’s all a coincidence, but it doesn’t feel like a coincidence. It feels like Seb taking care of us, like he always did.