Chapter Twelve
—JAMIE
Well… this is awkward. As I drive us out into open water, my boat drifting a bit to the left due to the damage, I round the coast toward a remote section that I’ve never been to before.
I prefer to stay near the tourist islands, the water measured and monitored to make sure none of us runs aground.
Out here, well, this is like the Wild West.
“You’ll keep heading into the Everglades,” Tech calls to me. “About thirty minutes west, but don’t go into the marsh yet. It’s sticky out there today.”
I nod, gliding toward the middle and shifting the boat into gear to speed up. The three of them sit in the back of the boat as Tech discusses something I can’t hear, the girls listening intently. I feel suddenly, and entirely, left out.
The last few years, when I was away at school, both staff and students alike were more interested in getting closer to my father than to me.
His name carried weight, both respect and fear.
Those people only saw my dad’s dollar signs.
Even now, it doesn’t seem that Jamie exists.
I am the Matthews boy. I am Brent Matthews’s son. I am the kid whose dad sent him away.
As I stand at the wheel, driving this group toward some plan that could possibly mess with my father’s job, I’m a little scared.
Of him, of course. But also of failing. After what I’ve seen around Cape Hope, things really do need to change.
And maybe the Chasers have a way to actually make that happen.
I feel the brush of skin against my arm, and turn to find Noa standing next to me. She glances over with a soft curve to her lips. She’s glad I’m here.
I know I hurt her feelings earlier on the beach when I told her it had been easier to never talk to her again. But it wasn’t easy—it was fucking awful. It was the worst thing I ever did.
But it happened so quickly, too fast for me to react.
I’d just left Noa on the beach, late that last night, and I came back to the resort to find my father waiting for me.
He took my phone, my computer, my wallet.
He told me I was going to boarding school, leaving immediately.
He had leverage, but I still raged and screamed and begged on my knees. I did everything I could.
And as the sun came up, I was on my way to the airport.
In the end, there wasn’t much of a choice—the alternative was him pressing charges against me for breaking into his computer files.
He’d already cut me off from my money, and even my mother.
He assured that if I didn’t play by the rules, Astrid wouldn’t be allowed to see me ever again.
And, of course, he reminded me this was all my doing.
I was alone. I felt hopeless—worthless. I felt unlovable.
And for Noa, hearing all that might be worse than just thinking that I’m selfish.
“Figured I’d check on you and your eye,” she says, reaching to take my chin. She tilts my face to get a better look before shaking her head disapprovingly.
“I think it adds character,” I say, making her laugh. “But I would feel better if you told me a little more about what we’re doing out here.”
“Of course,” she agrees, but doesn’t offer a single additional detail.
We’re quiet while she scans the islands as we pass them. The vibration of the boat motor is lulling, calming even, as the sound echoes off the water.
“I hope we find it,” she says under her breath. The determination in her eyes, this is about more than Matteo and the Collective starting shit with the Chasers. It’s more personal than that.
“What’s really going on?” I ask. “What did they do to you?”
Her look withers, as if it’s too much for me to understand. I don’t think she’s going to tell me at all, when she starts talking.
“It’s not just about me,” she says. “But I did learn yesterday that they’re probably going to take the Surf Shack.”
“Who is?” I ask. The Surf Shack is a staple of Cape Hope. It’s a legend.
“Who else?” she replies, bitter. “The Augustus Resort has been trying to buy us out for years, and it appears they’re succeeding.
They’ve taken all of the businesses along Paradise Beach—that’s why Tech’s mom lost her restaurant.
My father and I are the last holdouts. He’s ready to sell, but…
I’m not ready to give up. It’s all I have left of my mother. ”
I have a sharp pang of sympathy. I was already away at school when I’d heard that Noa’s mom had passed away, read her obituary online.
I wanted to call Noa then, even tried to dial several times, but I always hung up before it rang.
At that point, it had been so long and I didn’t want to add to her pain.
“I sent flowers,” I say quietly, and she turns to me, surprised. “I didn’t sign the card,” I add as I watch her trying to work it out. She waits a beat, and then her lips part with a gasp.
“The white camellias?” she asks. “Was that you?”
“Yeah. Sorry, I—”
“No, they were beautiful,” she cuts in, a tenderness in her eyes. “She would have loved them. We… we had no idea who sent them, but I kept them in my room.” She laughs a little sadly. “Thank you, Jamie.”
“Of course,” I say, but I don’t deserve the praise.
I should have called like a decent fucking person.
But I don’t tell her that and ruin the moment.
“Your mom was always nice to me,” I say.
“And she was funny. Remember how she’d sit out on the dock while we were in the water?
Called it quality control, but I think she was just making sure I didn’t steal you away. ”
“She liked you,” Noa says. “She really liked you.”
“I’m glad.”
And I mean it. I know how important she was to Noa, and I regret not being there for her when it happened.
Still, Noa seems heartened, even amused. “Wait until my father finds out you sent those flowers,” she adds. “He’s going to hate that.”
I sniff a laugh, assuming I’m not her father’s favorite person right now, not after disappearing from Noa’s life. He would certainly be justified.
Noa and I fall into an easy silence, same way we keep falling. Doesn’t matter that we’ll eventually hit the ground, both of us bruised and wondering if it was worth it. And yet… I still can’t help myself.
I was always going to come down to her beach. Fuck, I knew that before I even got on the helicopter to fly out here.
Noa taps my arm, fast, insistent. “Jamie,” she says, her voice sharp with something between disbelief and fear. She doesn’t look at me. Just points.
I follow to where she’s indicating across the water, scanning the stretch of thick, wild Everglades. At first, it’s a blur of brush and broken trees, and then I spot it. Tucked in the back as if it’s hiding on purpose.
The roof of a bright pink building.
It doesn’t belong there. Not out here in the middle of nowhere. Bubblegum pink against the muted greens and browns of the Everglades—surreal. And honestly? Fucking creepy.
There, surrounded by splintered trees and soggy marsh, the building just… sits. Like it’s been waiting for us.
“Please tell me that’s not where we’re going,” I say, half joking, but my voice lands flat.
The others are already at the side of the boat, watching it like they’re under a spell. They begin congratulating each other. They’re thrilled.
Me? Not so much. I curse under my breath as I turn toward the reeds. The water shallows quickly, slapping gently at the hull. I yank the throttle back a gear, the boat groaning as we slow.
“Tech!” I snap, jerking my head toward the bank. “We need a plan.”
He comes to the wheel, scanning the area. He motions to a break in the reeds a few yards ahead. “There,” he says. “Go really slow. It’s super tight.”
It looks impossible, large patches of land mixed with cracked tree limbs from the storm. “Have you ever actually been down this path?” I ask him.
Tech smiles. “No one’s been here in decades.”
“Of course,” I mutter, annoyed at the amount of stress I’m putting on my boat. I lower the gear even more, just enough throttle to keep the blades moving, but slow enough that I’ll be able to untangle any debris that might get stuck.
As I ease my way through the water, I can hear the hollow scrapes along the side of my boat. Hopefully it’s not tearing up the paint, but honestly, that’s the least of my worries. I’m just trying not to get stuck.
Up ahead, I spot what looks like the crumbling edge of a concrete dock. Behind it, a single-lane road cuts through the marsh, leading toward the pink building.
I keep us moving, slow and deliberate. I manage to get us close to the barrier, and Tech jumps out. Shawn follows, helping him secure us to a jagged piece of rusted rebar that’s sticking up from the concrete.
Once the boat is tied off, I hold out my hand to Noa. The second her fingers touch mine, it’s a jolt of electricity through my arm. She feels it too—I can tell by the way her breath catches.
We step onto the cracked concrete, the sound of water trickling through the deep crevices beneath us.
The road looks as if it has been submerged for too long—the moss on the pavement slick and wet.
The twisted branches of the trees reach toward the sky as if trying to block out the sunlight.
Birds, distant and eerie, call out, and the sound is almost unnatural, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
I glance at the others, then back at the building.
“I’m not waiting in the boat,” I say, firm.
There is no way I’m sitting alone on that water, too far away for them to hear me scream for help.
Tech sniffs a laugh, waving his hand like he doesn’t care either way. He stares ahead, taking it all in. Then slowly, he starts to smile before looking around at us, his eyes a little misty.
“Welcome to the Starline Hotel,” he says.
“Holy shit,” Shawn says, bouncing up and down. “We seriously found it!” She pulls him into a hug and Noa joins in.