22. Dane Gallagher
Dane Gallagher
Jameson stops so abruptly I nearly walk into the back of him.
“Holy crap,” he says, staring up at the yacht. “This is Dad’s new boat?”
Ryan laughs. “That’s not a boat. It’s a floating mansion.”
Jameson just stands there with his mouth hanging open, taking it all in. “Do we get to go everywhere on it?”
“Of course, you goose.”
“This is gonna be awesome.”
He’s already moving again, hurrying down the dock.
Ryan and I follow. The boards creak beneath our shoes. Boats rock gently on either side of us, but none of them come close to this one. They never do. Dad always has to have the biggest vessel in the marina.
Ryan bumps my shoulder. “Hey.”
“What?”
He lowers his voice. “Don’t start anything while we’re away.”
I roll my eyes. “I never start anything.”
Ryan lets out a laugh. “Yeah, you do.”
“No, I don’t.”
“You called Tara a—”
“I remember what I called her,” I cut in.
A bitch.
Because she is one.
Ryan exhales through his nose like he’s already exhausted, and we’ve barely been here five minutes.
“She’s been our stepmother for years, Dane. She’s not going anywhere. Mum and Dad aren’t getting back together.”
No thanks to her. “Yeah. I know.”
Ahead of us, Jameson is almost jogging.
“Do you think we’ll see sharks?” he calls over his shoulder. “Dad said there are sharks around the islands.”
Ryan raises his voice. “Let’s try not to get eaten on day one, yeah?”
Jameson laughs.
Ryan looks at me again. “Seriously. Just try to get along.”
“I do.”
The look he gives me says otherwise.
A beeping sound cuts through the conversation. Jameson slows immediately and groans.
“Hold on.”
We stop while he digs through his backpack for his meter and test strips.
Ryan’s attention shifts to him right away. “You good, mate?”
“Yeah. Just checking. It’s time.”
Jameson pricks his finger without hesitation, presses the strip into the meter, and waits for the number.
“Eighty-nine.”
Ryan nods. “Good.”
Jameson wipes his finger, packs everything away, and swings the backpack onto his shoulders like it’s no big deal.
It’s just part of his routine. Has been for years. He checks on schedule and never misses it.
A second later, he’s off again, heading for the yacht.
We’re about halfway down the dock when a voice carries across the water.
“Boys? Is that y’all?”
I look up.
The stepmonster spotted us.
“Y’all,” I mutter under my breath.
God, I hate her stupid American accent.
Ryan glances toward the yacht and nudges my shoulder. “Play nice, Dane.”
Tara is already making her way down the dock toward us, blond curls blowing in the wind, smiling like she’s genuinely happy to see us.
She can’t be happy to see me. Not after the fight we had this morning.
“Dad says there are sharks,” Jameson announces, like he hasn’t already mentioned it ten times.
“Oh, there definitely are,” Tara says. “But your dad won’t let anything eat you.”
Jameson throws a couple of punches into the air. “A shark’s not eating me. I’ll just punch it in the nose.”
Ryan and Jameson reach her first. Ryan has a duffel slung over one shoulder, and Jameson’s backpack bounces against his back while he shifts from foot to foot, too excited to stand still.
Tara looks them over and laughs. “That’s it? That’s all y’all brought?”
Ryan shrugs. “We’re on a yacht for two weeks. Not exactly a lot of places to go.”
“I got everything I need,” Jameson says, lifting his backpack like proof.
Tara ruffles his hair. “I’m sure you do.”
Ryan nods toward him. “He just checked his blood sugar. Eighty-nine.”
“Good.” Tara’s attention goes straight to Jameson. “You feeling okay, sweetheart?”
“I’m fine,” he says, already looking past her toward the yacht.
Her gaze shifts to me. “And you, Dane? Is that all you brought?”
I lift my bag slightly. “All good.”
Ryan snorts. “He brought more books than clothes.”
“It’s a series. I’m not getting halfway through it and then having nothing to read.”
Tara lets out a dramatic sigh. “I’ll be speaking to your father about your choice in books. They’re not appropriate for a boy your age.”
I shrug. “Dad won’t care. If I’m reading, I’m not bothering him.”
“That’s not true at all, Dane. Your dad loves spending time with you.”
I glance at her. “Could’ve fooled me.”
For a second, something flickers across her face. Then she looks back toward the yacht, where crew members move across the deck preparing for departure.
“Your dad’s talking routes with the captain. Why don’t you boys go join him?”
Jameson takes off immediately, sprinting like the yacht might leave without him.
“Hey!” Ryan calls after him. “Don’t fall in before we even get on.”
“I won’t!” Jameson shouts back, already halfway up the gangway.
Ryan shakes his head and follows.
I start after them, but Tara steps a little closer. Not enough to block my path. Just enough that I slow.
“I had them stock the pantry with Tim Tams. And those lemon crisps you like. And some Solo.”
I look at her. “You didn’t have to.”
She hesitates.
Then, more quietly, “I wanted to.”
I shrug. “Okay.”
I could thank her.
I don’t.
She covers it with a small smile. “They’re there if you want them.”
“Come on!” Jameson shouts from up the ramp.
Ryan turns back. “You two coming or what?”
Tara steps aside. “Careful. It’s a little slippery.”
I walk past her without answering.
The ramp creaks under our feet as we climb aboard. Jameson gets to the top first and stops dead, staring around like he’s just walked onto a movie set.
“Whoa.”
Ryan steps up beside him, glancing around. “It’s even bigger up here.”
He’s not wrong. The deck stretches out in every direction—stairs leading up, doors into the cabin, polished railings catching the light. Crew members move around like it’s nothing, carrying lines and gear, talking over the low hum of the engines.
Good.
The bigger the boat, the easier it’ll be to keep my distance.
Up near the bow, Dad’s crouched by a cleat with Charlotte beside him—the brat—a thick rope looped in her hands while he talks her through it.
“You start with the loop like this,” he says, guiding her fingers. “Then bring it around the standing part.”
Charlotte frowns, concentrating. “Like this?”
“Close. Under, not over.”
He adjusts her hands, and she tries again.
Dad gives the knot a firm tug. “There you go. Bowline.”
Charlotte pulls on it, testing it as if she actually cares whether it holds.
Tara steps up next to us, watching them with a small smile. “She’s been practicing knots all week for this trip.”
Dad looks up then and spots us. “There they are!”
He straightens, wiping his hands on his shorts as he heads over. Charlotte stays where she is for a second, still holding the rope.
I keep looking at the loop in her hands.
Dad never taught me that.
The brat jogs over after him, brushing her hands on her shorts like she’s proud of getting it right. “Hi.”
Jameson immediately turns to her. “Dad said there are giant sea turtles around here—the ones bigger than people. Are we gonna see any?”
She smiles. “If we’re lucky.”
I cut in before she can say anything else. “You planning to narrate the whole trip?”
Ryan shoots me a look. “Dane—”
Charlotte just shrugs, like it doesn’t touch her. “Just answering his question.”
That almost makes it worse. Like she’s used to me being like this.
Tara’s eyes move between us. “All right. Before anyone starts anything, grab the bags and take them down to the rooms.”
She lifts one of the heavier ones and hands it to me. “You’re the strongest one here.”
Liar.
Ryan grabs another without a word. Jameson runs over and wrestles with one that’s nearly his size.
Just like that, everyone moves, and the moment disappears.
We stash everything below deck, and when we come back up, Dad’s already in the middle of the yacht, hands on his hips like he’s been waiting for us.
He claps once. “All right—crew meeting.”
Jameson hurries over, practically bouncing. Ryan leans against the rail beside him, and the rest of us drift in. Dad looks like he’s about to kick off the best trip of his life.
“So here’s the plan,” he says, gesturing out toward the water. “We head out this afternoon and start working our way through the islands. There are a couple reefs I want to anchor near for snorkeling. If the weather holds, we’ll spend a few nights in some of the smaller coves.”
Jameson’s eyes go wide. “Are there sharks in those coves?”
Dad grins. “Probably.”
That’s all Jameson needs.
Dad keeps going, pointing out toward the open ocean like we can already see it. “Most of these islands are remote. Not many boats. Just beaches, reefs, and water.”
Then he looks around at all of us.
“Two weeks. No business, no distractions. Just family.”
Tara smiles beside him like that’s the best part. “That’s the whole point, honey.”
“Great,” I mutter. “Two weeks of family time. Can’t wait.”
Ryan gives me a look that says don't start.
People start drifting off once Dad’s done. Jameson heads straight for the rail, already firing questions at Charlotte about turtles. Tara follows, laughing at something he says.
Ryan catches my arm before I can disappear.
“Hey.”
He pulls me a few steps away from everyone else. “You’re doing it again.”
“Doing what?”
He glances back at the others. “Looking for reasons to hate them.”
I shrug. “Don’t have to look that hard.”
Ryan’s gaze shifts to Tara and Jameson. She’s laughing, her hand resting lightly on his shoulder while he talks a mile a minute.
“She’s trying, Dane,” he says, quieter now.
I don’t answer.
When I walk back over, Jameson’s still leaning out over the rail, Charlotte beside him.
“Are the turtles really that big?”
She nods toward the water. “Some are. If we’re lucky, we might see rays too.”
His eyes light up. “Or sharks?”
I swear to God, if I hear about sharks one more time—
She grins. “Probably.”
“Cool.”
He already looks like this is the best trip of his life.
Ryan wanders over and leans against the rail beside them, listening while Charlotte explains snorkeling—reefs, clearer water around the smaller islands, all of it.
No one interrupts her. No one rolls their eyes.
Ryan even nods along like he’s actually interested.
I hang back and watch.
Everyone’s comfortable around her.
Even Ryan.
That’s what makes it worse.
By the time the sun starts dropping, the marina’s washed in orange and gold. Crew members move across the deck, untying lines, calling to each other while the engines come alive somewhere below us.
One by one, the ropes slip free. The yacht pulls away from the dock, water sliding past the hull as we ease out toward open water.
Jameson’s glued to the rail, watching everything like he might miss something if he blinks. Ryan stands a few feet back, arms folded, looking out over the harbor. Charlotte’s up near the bow again with Dad while a crew member walks them through the route.
Tara disappears inside for a minute, then comes back with a tray of drinks. She hands them out one by one.
She comes to me last, holding out the glass.
“Peace offering?” she says, with a small smile.
I hesitate, then take it without saying anything.
Dad raises his glass once everyone has one. “To family.”
Ryan echoes it.
Charlotte too.
Jameson says it the loudest.
Tara looks around at all of us, smiling like this is exactly what we needed.
I watch her for a second.
She really believes this trip is going to fix things.
I already know it won’t.