CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 4
NESS EYED THE DARK CLOUDS GATHERING OVER THE WATER IN THE distance. The wind whipped her hair into her face, adhering carefully shaped curls to freshly applied lipstick.
They’d flown into Great Exuma an hour earlier and been driven directly from the airport to the marina with promises that their assistants, for those who had them, and luggage would be following shortly to meet them at Eclipse Island via ferry.
“Take this time to reconnect!” Morris had directed them at the airport. “I’ll see you over there!”
“Why aren’t we flying again?” Bradley asked, eyeing the puddle jumper idling nearby.
“It’s full of gear! Just a scheduling thing. Nothing to be concerned about, er, budget-wise, though! All good there!” Morris had said apologetically as his phone rang in the pocket of his cargo shorts. He pulled it out, glanced at the screen and scowled. “Sorry, I need to take this. But enjoy the ride! It’ll give you a chance to see the landscape and understand the journey your characters would have had to take to get out here. The travel isn’t trivial. They’d have had to really commit to being at Theo’s funeral. What creates that drive for each of you?”
“Kyle would have flown,” Bradley called after him, shouting to be heard over the revving engine, but Morris was already halfway up the steps of his plane, phone pressed hard to his ear. Bradley wasn’t wrong. His character, Kyle Everstreet, entitled party boy turned down-and-out IP lawyer, would have chartered a private plane even if he had to sell a kidney to finance it.
At the marina, they prepared to embark on what had been billed as a short, pleasant sunset jaunt. The boat, they’d been assured, was stocked with premixed cocktails, local beer, and light snacks. Ness couldn’t quite picture how they’d ingest anything without chipping a tooth as they bounced over the growing swells.
A seagull squawked from its perch atop a nearby garbage can and Ness noticed the dock was otherwise very quiet, most boats secured and unmanned. In fact, all the proverbial and literal hatches looked about as battened down as they could get. All except for their transport—a jaunty turquoise and white affair that, under blue skies and atop calm water, she could easily have found charming, if slightly (okay, much) less swanky than she’d expected.
Where she’d been picturing a fully enclosed living space, perhaps with wait staff, Gentleman’s Delight was the type of thing she’d charter for a day with a group of friends on a budget vacation.
The cracked white vinyl-covered benches tucked fore and aft screamed “lounge on me with a frosty beverage and liberally applied SPF!” and the captain’s nook (totally a nautical term) had what appeared to be teak cabinetry and paneling, popping in an aesthetically pleasing fashion against the brighter paint around them.
As things stood, however, the thirty-some-odd-foot vessel looked decidedly insubstantial against its oceanic backdrop. Ness eyed it uncertainly.
“Um, are we sure this is a good idea?” Daisy asked, addressing the group. “The weather seems a bit . . . ominous?”
“Calm yourself, my little duckling.” Ian nudged Daisy with his hip. Despite the ease of his movements, Ness thought he looked tense. He bounced lightly on his toes. “They wouldn’t risk the lives of the entire core cast for the sake of scheduling, right, Tyler?” He smiled fiercely, bright-white teeth gleaming.
Tyler had apparently been given the job of getting them to Eclipse Island. Ness couldn’t decide if this was considered a plum assignment or if Morris just wanted to reclaim his personal space, but it seemed like Tyler was embracing his cat-herding responsibilities with great enthusiasm. He looked appropriately horrified at the idea of putting lives in jeopardy, watery blue eyes widening behind his glasses.
“Risky? Certainly not. We’ve consulted the appropriate environmental agencies and all signs point to safe transit, despite the storm warning. Isn’t that so, Captain Dirk?” he said to the weathered, deeply tanned man whose boat bobbed with increasing intensity on the waves.
“We have life vests and the required emergency supplies,” Captain Dirk affirmed, inspiring confidence in no one.
“Can I talk to you for a moment, Captain?” Tyler asked, smiling around clenched teeth. “I’d like to go over our route one more time.” He steered the older man along the pier to a small outbuilding.
Coco leaned against a palm tree, vaping with great enthusiasm. Meanwhile, Libby paced the dock like she was trying to get her twenty thousand steps in before they boarded. She’d always been an overachiever. Frustration rolled off her in waves.
Bradley grumbled under his breath and went to sit at a nearby picnic table, scrolling on his phone and shoving his hair out of his face every couple of minutes.
“I’m going to see if I can find coffee,” Ian announced, popping a piece of gum in his mouth before traipsing toward the main building, which housed a restaurant and café.
Hayes leaned against a low stone wall that edged the walkway leading to the docks, looking decidedly unconcerned. The wind snatched at the brim of his navy ball cap and he grabbed it before it took a solo flight down the coast, turning it backward and settling it back on his head.
Ness could all but feel her pupils dilating. Her breath hitched. It shouldn’t be that sexy. That easy to tie her in knots. She wasn’t eighteen. She was a grown woman in control of her feelings, dammit. And what kind of forty-five-year-old man sports a backward ball cap, anyway? He should look ridiculous.
His eyes drifted to meet hers and a slow smile spread across his face. “Oh, shut up,” muttered Ness, turning on her heel, determined to focus on something, anything, else. Unfortunately, as she spun, she collided with Libby’s arm, knocking her phone to the ground. They both watched, horrified, as it skittered, screen down, across the gravel path toward the water.
Ness’s mouth dropped open. The phone slid under the barrier, teetered for one precarious second on the cement edge. Plop. The rhinestone-encrusted case glittered like the scales of a tropical fish as it gently floated down and out of sight.
Libby glared at her. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
For a moment, Ness flashed back to a hazy memory of Libby saying those exact words to her in the garbage-scented back parking lot of their favorite club, Imposter. In that case, the offense had been less an unfortunate accident than a pattern undermining their entire friendship. Not that Ness had noticed at the time.
Now, Ness was certain Libby was about to send her on an unscheduled undersea expedition, but the thwacking of Tyler’s Tevas saved her as he hustled back toward them. The tendons in Libby’s neck strained and Ness was pretty sure she could see a vein pulsing in her otherwise perfectly smooth forehead. She moved farther away, seeking protection behind Daisy, whose comparative youth probably lent itself to quick reflexes when it came to deflecting an attack.
“Minor change of plans, folks!” Tyler called, waving everyone toward him. “Captain Dirk has been called away for a family emergency, but I’m happy to report that I am fully capable of getting us to Eclipse. So! If you’ll make your way down to slip four, we’ll be on our way!”
“Wait. You’re going to drive the boat?” Ness hadn’t meant to sound quite so disbelieving. She’d been aiming for mild, valid concern.
Tyler smiled brightly. “I grew up with boats. You’re in excellent hands. Trust me, I wouldn’t take on a challenge like this if I wasn’t sure I was up for it.”
“Yeah, but, um, why is it a challenge if you’re so confident?” Daisy also missed the mild, valid concern mark.
“It’s not a challenge challenge.” Tyler closed his eyes for a beat and took a deep breath before reengaging. “Listen, we have to get to the island tonight. Half of you have a 5:00 a.m. call time tomorrow. Captain Dirk is otherwise engaged and no one else is available. We’re on a tight timeline and I am fully capable of getting us there. But we need to go.”
Ness shifted her weight from foot to foot, trying to keep her mouth shut and go with the flow. She failed.
“I’m just not sure this is the best option.”
Tyler’s smile tightened, teeth clenching. “Would Captain Dirk have given his keys to someone he didn’t trust?”
Ness’s eyes narrowed. For all she knew, Captain Dirk would hand the keys over to a persistent seagull if it had enough room on its credit card.
If they had all banded together and refused to go, it would have worked. What could Tyler, who looked as though his most intensive workout was carrying multiple clipboards around at the same time, do?
Unfortunately, teamwork had never been their strong suit.
“Let’s just go,” grumbled Bradley, striding down the dock.
“Excellent! Thank you, Mr. Isaksson!” Tyler beamed sunnily even as dark clouds converged above the marina.
“It’s a quick ride, right?” asked Coco.
“Twenty minutes, max. I bet I can make it in fifteen,” Tyler assured her.
She shoved hair out of her face and puffed out a breath. “Fuck, fine.”
Tyler turned his gaze to Libby. “Ms. Kim?”
She looked from Ness’s concerned face to her phone’s watery grave and to where Bradley was sitting on a bobbing bench seat, already cracking a beer.Without a word she turned and flounced to the boat.
Daisy sighed.
“You don’t have to do anything you’re uncomfortable with,” Ness said to her, but she could feel the moment Daisy chose not to make a fuss.
“We’re probably overreacting,” the younger woman said, eyes going to the whitecapped waves outside the relatively calm water of the enclosed marina. “Let’s just get there. Tyler’s right, we’ve got a painful call time tomorrow, and I’m sure everyone’s taking the proper precautions.”
Tyler bounced a little on the balls of his feet, clearly eager to get this show on the road. He looked around, pale brow furrowing.
“Where’s Mr. James?”
Ness shrugged. “He went to get coffee?”
“Is that a question or a statement?”
“A statement?”
They locked eyes, holding on to neutral, pleasant smiles that moved toward grimace territory with each passing second.
Ness broke first.
“You know, Tyler, this feels . . .” She waved her hand through the air as she searched for the right word. “Risky.”
He leaned in, lowering his voice and keeping a pleasant smile pasted on his chapped lips. “I’d heard about your proclivity for drama, Ms. Larkin, but wasn’t expecting to see it so early in our time together.”
Ness’s mouth dropped open, her eyes agog. She started to form an appropriately scathing response when an arm draped over her shoulders.
“I’m back!” Ian announced, sounding peppy. Ness wished she’d gotten coffee too. “I see we’re ready to get this show on the oceanic road.” He grabbed Ness’s hand and towed her along behind him. “Come on, Drag-ness. Time to go!”
Ness looked pleadingly at the rest of the group, but they were wrist-deep in the coolers of drinks and seemed to be pointedly ignoring her.
“Alright,” she said, giving in. “Why not.”
* * *
Coco had attempted a relaxed lounge position but was jostled into an upright, edge-of-seat-clutching pose instead. The door of the built-in fridge swung open, connecting with her shin.
“Can someone explain why we didn’t get a yacht?” She kicked the fridge closed, barely missing Ness’s foot in the process.
Tyler stood in the partially enclosed wheelhouse, occasionally wiping errant ocean spray from his glasses with the lower edge of his short-sleeved pale-pink button-up, inexplicably patterned with tropical foliage and cat faces. He steered them out of the inlet that housed the marina.
“This is the Bahamian standard for island hopping,” he said, like that answered the question.
Coco’s eyebrow rose skeptically.
The wind picked up, sending a stinging spray of water across the open rear of the boat as they cut across the waves. Ness looked up at the darkening sky and felt raindrops patter on her face, so small she could almost convince herself it was spray from the boat cutting through the water. Over the sounds of the engine, thunder rumbled. She was sitting beside a pile of black equipment cases the size of standard airline carry-ons. Tyler had said they held a bunch of backup camera gear Morris had asked him to bring along at the last minute. Ness counted seven of the hard-sided cases and wondered how many thousands of dollars of tech was snuggled inside. She hoped they were watertight.
“Uh, hey, Tyler?” she shouted from her seat at the bow of the boat. She’d put as much distance between herself and Hayes and Libby—who, along with Bradley and Ian, were tucked into the back—as she could. All told, it was about twelve measly feet. Depending on how the wind gusted, she was sure she was still catching subtle wafts of eau de Hayes. Or it was the horrendous up-and-down of the boat making her stomach somersault.
“Tyler!” she repeated, louder. “How much longer?” They’d been zigzagging along, past island after island, for nearly thirty minutes.
Their pasty pseudo-captain didn’t answer as he glared at the flickering GPS display panel and bopped it with the heel of his hand. The image seemed to tremble before going completely dark.
Tyler’s eyes widened as he looked between the black screen and the ocean around them. He brought the radio to his mouth.
“This is pleasure craft Gentleman’s Delight. Is anyone there?” The wind picked up, making it nearly impossible to hear any response from where Ness was sitting.
Tyler held the radio to his ear, squinting as he strained to listen. He tried again, voice shaky as he yelled to be heard over the wind.
“This is Gentleman’s Delight. Do you read me?” He pressed buttons on the dash, turned dials, and tapped at gauges before facing his increasingly agitated and damp passengers.
“There’s absolutely no need to worry, but it seems that the electrical panel and radio have both failed. This is okay, though. I know what to do.”
He scrabbled in a cabinet beside the steering wheel and pulled out a paper chart. He held it behind him, handing it to Bradley.
“We’re passing the western edge of, um, Hummingbird Cay now. Eclipse should be only a few clicks ahead, but can you find it on here just in case?”
Bradley stared back at him. “Just in case what?”
Tyler shook the chart emphatically, his lips pressed into a tight, pale line.
Across from Ness, Daisy’s face was whiter than usual. She gave a weak smile and hugged herself tightly.
“It’s chilly with that wind, huh?” Ness said, slipping her goosebump-covered arms into the life jacket she’d found wedged under the bench. She reached down and passed another to Daisy, who gratefully followed suit. Ness raised a questioning eyebrow at Coco, who let go of the bench long enough to make a “gimme” gesture and accept the proffered flotation device.
“Ugh. Smells like it’s been steeped in stale vomit,” she complained. Ness couldn’t disagree.
Bradley knelt on the floor, fighting the wind as he tried to unfold the chart and keep it in place. He looked at Ian. “Hold this down while I chart a course, will you?”
Ian snorted a laugh. “Since when can you chart courses, Captain Highliner?”
“Since I took on the role of Ahab in the stage production of a boldly reimagined Moby Dick, you dick. It’s called research.”
“Children!” snapped Coco. “Can we save this titillating trading of insults for later and focus on not dying?”
A low wall of water smacked into the side of the boat, not quite coming over the edge but sending Bradley sprawling. Ian threw his hands up to catch himself against the back of the captain’s chair, releasing the map, which flew like an expertly launched kite into the sky.
At the same time, the captain’s chair rotated, the seat banging into Tyler’s knees. He skidded sideways, slamming against the side of the boat and barely catching himself on an antenna before his weight could propel him over the side and into the waves. As he righted himself, feet hitting the inner deck with a thud that reverberated under Ness’s feet, the antenna snapped off in his hand. Simultaneously, his glasses slid off his face, landing directly beneath Ian’s flailing foot, where they were promptly crushed.
Lightning lit the sky as the clouds burst open, pelting them with rain.
“Ohmigod,” Daisy gasped.
With no one at the wheel, the boat was at the mercy of the wind and water. They were pushed sideways, parallel to the waves, rolling up and down with sickening intensity.
Tyler scrabbled along the deck, chasing the remnants of his glasses, blood dripping from a cut at his hairline. Ian sat on the floor, his back pressed against the bench, laughing maniacally, face turned up to the pelting rain.
“Ohmigod. Ohmigod. Ohmigod,” Daisy chanted.
Libby was screaming at Bradley to “DO SOMETHING!” while Coco had wedged herself into a corner with her eyes squeezed shut. Hayes slid around with an armload of life jackets, jamming people’s arms into them if they didn’t react quickly enough to do it themselves.
No one seemed interested in driving the boat.
Ness scooted across the floor, too unstable to stand, and grabbed the wheel, bracing herself against the padded inner wall and the base of the captain’s chair as waves tossed them up and down like a toy in an overwrought child’s bathtub. Once she had her footing, she stood, squinted, scanning madly through the driving rain until she thought she could make out a dark mass ahead.
A gust of wind sent sheets of water across the bow. Behind her, Ness heard Coco swearing loudly.
“Can someone get us to a goddamn motherfucking island, please?”
“Working on it!” Ness hollered over her shoulder. She slid to the right, catching herself just short of smacking her head on the clear plastic structure that was providing less and less protection from the weather.
“Steady there, Cap.” A warm body clad in a clammy, musty life jacket pressed against her back as strong arms came along either side of her. “I’ve got you,” Hayes said, putting his mouth close to her ear to be heard without shouting. “You steer, I’ll keep you upright, okay?”
Ness exhaled and fought the urge to close her eyes and melt back against him, her frantic nerves calmed by half just with his presence. Another aggressive wave brought her back to reality.
She jerked her chin to the right. “I think I saw land over there.” Heaving the wheel, she accelerated, turning toward what she hoped was safety.
Hayes pressed forward to get a better look as they got closer, wrapping a stabilizing arm around Ness’s waist, his fingers gripping her hip bones. Ahead of them, a wall of scraggly mangroves materialized through the mist, waving in the wind. Ness couldn’t see anywhere that they could secure the boat and get to land safely. The idea of spending the night on this bobbing cork of doom made her stomach clench.
“Is that a beach?” Hayes shouted, pointing to a barely visible stretch of beige a few hundred feet away.
Ness fought the wind, getting them turned in the right direction, and started chugging toward the maybe-beach. She did a shoulder check to confirm everyone was still on board.
Tyler was laid out across the black gear cases, a crumpled fluorescent-orange rain jacket under his head. Blood dripped to the floor beside him, diffusing into a growing pink puddle. The rest of the group was quiet, straining their bodies forward as if they could will themselves to safety.
The boat surged and fought, and Ness wondered why anyone would ever choose to be a ship’s captain. A push of wind rammed them closer to land just as the rain seemed to take a breath, giving them a three-second view of the island immediately ahead, much closer than Ness had thought. It also revealed the cement dock they were about to crash into.
Hayes’s grip tightened on her waist and she heard his strangled gasp.
“Hang on, everyone!” Ness gunned the engine and veered to the right, barely dodging the dock and running up onto the beach.
Apparently, nobody had held on, or the landing had been worse than she thought, because when she looked behind her, everyone was lying in a heap on the floor. At a quick glance, no one seemed seriously injured beyond bruises and egos.
Ness shook her head, hoping to clear the haze of panic that had settled there. The wind whipped her hair into her face, where it tangled in her eyelashes and stuck to the super-hold brow gel that had seemed like a great idea that morning.
She dragged her attention back to the task at hand, fighting to open the stiff latches securing cabinets and storage cubbies until she found a large coil of yellow rope. She heaved it into her arms like a loopy, twenty-pound baby.
“We need to tie the boat up!” she called to Hayes, who was hoisting people to their feet and looking deep into their eyes while murmuring what she assumed were words of comfort. Someone needs to cast him as a sexy pastor, Ness thought, unbidden.
He pivoted, took two long steps, and plucked the heavy mass of rope from her arms like it was no more than a loaf of bread or a small dog’s designer puffer coat.
“You hop down and I’ll throw it to you? I want to take a better look at Tyler’s head.”
“Yeah, sure. Okay. Good plan.” She hated the plan. She’d assumed he’d do this part, but it was fine. She was capable. She’d tied many knots in her day—if she counted the lopsided throw blanket she’d crocheted for a neighbor, one might even say she’d nearly mastered the tying of string-like materials.
Hayes was looking at her expectantly, the rain rolling across his glasses. He shoved them up onto the top of his head as she sidled carefully to the side of the boat and swung her legs over. The water suddenly looked very far away.
“Here I go!” she announced, mostly to herself. Ian, at least, gave her a shaky thumbs-up.
She jumped.
Ness hit the thigh-deep water and stumbled, falling to her knees and getting a noseful of salt water. She staggered a bit closer to shore and turned, arms extended. Hayes chucked the rope, which she did not catch and had to fish from the water in dripping lengths.
Sputtering, she heaved the mess with her to shore, trying to identify a good anchor tree through the driving rain. The water dragged at her soaked jeans and threatened to pull them down her hips. Wouldn’t that be the cherry on top.
There was a tall, robust-looking option a little farther up on the beach. She pulled the trailing rope to it, feet digging into the sand for traction.
Back on the boat, Hayes had efficiently secured the other end to an anchor point. His saturated clothes clung to his body and he’d lost his hat somewhere along the way. He shoved a hand through his hair, pushing it back off his face and giving it a shake.
Ness snapped her dangling jaw shut and turned back to the task at hand. She wrapped the rope around the tree three times, tying what felt like an intricate yet sturdy knot between each loop. She finished the whole thing off with one more knot, yanking the tail hard. There.
She sloshed back to the boat, which, all things considered, didn’t look worse for wear, and was hauled aboard, her shoulders popping in protest as Bradley leaned down and lifted her over the side like a sodden sack of potatoes. The others were sufficiently recovered to begin complaining in earnest.
“What now?” Coco demanded, her question aimed at no one in particular.
The rest of the group had migrated forward, pressing into her space, seeking whatever shelter the tiny wheelhouse could provide.
“Alright, everyone!” Ness yelled loudly enough to make Bradley flinch. “We need to find shelter. Grab whatever water and food you can and let’s go.”
* * *
They huddled together in a dark, rotting outbuilding at the back edge of the beach. Around them, trees creaked and groaned in the whistling wind. Branches scraped along the outer walls of the shed like the claws of a folkloric monster. The waves were almost deafening as they crashed onto the shoreline, rushing toward where they had taken refuge.
Ness hadn’t realized nature could be so incredibly loud. The wind whistled through cracks in the worn, wooden walls. She hitched her bag higher onto her shoulder and shivered.
Hayes held his phone skyward. “Nothing,” he said. “I don’t know if there’s no service here, or if cell towers are down because of the storm, but I can’t get a signal. Anyone else?”
“I lost my phone,” Libby said sourly.
Ness stared at the wet sand encrusting her shoes. Her own phone had disappeared into the sea while she was wrestling with the rope and her own lack of grace.
Coco’s phone was waterlogged, and Daisy, teeth chattering, said she couldn’t get a signal either. They turned to Ian, Bradley, and Tyler.
“I don’t have a phone,” Ian said breezily. “I refuse to get caught in the scrolling cycle and dark matter that is so widespread and easily accessible via technology. You know, 60 percent of people—”
“Yeah, got it, don’t care,” Bradley interjected. “My battery is dead.” He showed them the dark screen. “Tyler?”
The rain had rinsed most of the blood from his face, but a dark gash was stark against his pale face in the dim light. He shook his head. “It must have fallen out of my pocket when I slipped.”
They all looked at one another, waiting for someone to make a move.
“We can’t stay here all night,” Hayes said finally. “Maybe there are other buildings nearby. Or at least a more sheltered spot away from the beach.” He stepped out the door and into the dark, terrifying night. The rest of them exchanged morose looks before following.
They reformed their huddle on the beach, pivoting in a slow circle as one to try to spot salvation as the rain pummeled them.
A faded For Sale sign was staked deep in the sand, the words washed out by time and the elements.
As if on cue, lightning zapped across the sky, illuminating a structure looming on the hillside above them. Thunder boomed, and Ness swore she could feel the ground shake beneath her feet.
“Is that a . . .” Daisy trailed off.
Coco’s raspy voice rose over the sound of the wind. “It’s a fucking castle?”
Drama, drama, drama. It’s what we expect—nay, what we need—from everyone’s favorite guilty pleasure, Ocean Views. But we’re hearing that the drama isn’t limited to on-screen.
“The fighting is constant,” a source from the set told us. “People are always crying or storming off. It’s unprofessional and totally uncool.”
It’s a poorly kept secret that certain members of the cast can’t stand each other, despite their civil behavior during public appearances. But something more interesting seems to be bubbling to the surface.
“Now that Ness is so much more intriguing—who doesn’t love a bad girl?—the men can’t stop chasing her. It’s making the other female cast members furious. Honestly, Ness’s dad should have taken off years ago. This is the best thing to ever happen to her career. Film studios are banging on the door trying to book their next sad-eyed muse.”
It’s also hard to ignore that Ness has dropped some pounds over the past few months, something her friends are crediting to stress and increased exercise. We hope Ness bounces back soon, but girl, you’re looking great!