Chapter 3
Presley sat behind the helm and studied the radar. Two systems had appeared out of nowhere. It wasn’t uncommon for that to happen out in the ocean. But when the wind kicked up to twenty knots and shifted directions, that was the moment that gave Presley pause.
It got worse when Kilauea sputtered and spewed to life fifteen minutes ago.
“Do we need to be worried about that volcano?” Frank asked, sticking his head up the ladder. “And it’s pretty rough. We’re all feeling a little seasick.”
She could only go so fast in swells four to six feet. It wasn’t a good day at sea.
“I’m sorry about the rolls. Not much I can do but get us to the next cove as safely as possible.” She pointed. “It’s going to be a bit. We can’t pick up a buoy where I had originally planned because to be honest, I don’t know what Kilauea has in store for us. I’ve radioed ahead to a marina not far from here. We’ve got a slip and that’s where I’m headed.”
“It looks like we’re driving toward danger, not away from it,” Frank said.
“I know it looks that way. But I need to get us to the nearest marina. Unfortunately, that means a little rougher ride with these swells. We’re about five miles from shore. The closer we get, the better it will be.”
“Any chance we can make some grilled cheese sandwiches or something? Food always calms my stomach.”
“Feel free to talk with the chef. He can help you out in that department.” A big meal was out of the question, but if she could keep Frank, his wife, and their friends occupied in the cabin and out of her way while she navigated toward shore and the marina where she could pick up dock space, all the better.
Thank God, the wind was pushing them toward shore, not away, giving her wind speed since she couldn’t knock up the engine speed in these swells.
“Thanks.” Frank ducked his head into the galley.
She studied the instruments. The interval between the swells was only five seconds. Add in the wind gusts, and it made for a nasty ride. This was not the kind of weather she liked to be stuck in. When she radioed into the marina, they warned her that if the winds shifted, ash and lava could be pushed in their direction.
But she needed to get out of the open ocean and picking up a buoy around the corner in front of the volcano wasn’t an option.
A big whooshing noise echoed from down below, followed by a deafening noise.
The boat pitched to the port side.
Screams echoed from below.
Presley gripped the helm as her body was flung into the side rail of the captain’s perch. Curling her fingers over the throttles, she pulled them to neutral, but it turned out to be unnecessary because both engines cut out.
The fire alarm rang. Followed by a different alarm.
The catamaran bounced in the water like a toy in a bathtub.
Fire and smoke billowed out of the galley.
Remi, her deckhand, stood in the center with a fire extinguisher. His clothes were scorched and burn marks lined his arms.
“I need help.” Harry was on the floor with Frank. “The stove blew up and he’s badly hurt.” Harry glanced up.
“Oh my God!” Frank’s wife was on her knees.
Frank moaned and groaned.
“Frank. Talk to me,” Melissa said. “Honey. Oh no, he’s unconscious now.”
A spark illuminated off the control panel.
Quickly, she raced to it and shut off the breaker that controlled the gas lines.
Another spark.
The batteries went dead.
She jerked back. “Shit.” An eerie silence filled the air. “Make sure that fire is completely out.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Remi said. “It was the gas line. As soon as the customer turned on the stove, it went up. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”
“Ma’am.” She touched Melissa’s shoulders. “I know you’re scared and concerned. We’re all trained for this. I need you and the rest of the guests to sit at the table on the aft deck. Remi will tend to your husband. Is there anything he’s allergic to or does he have any medical conditions we need to know about?” In all her life, this was by far the worst situation she’d ever been in at sea, and she’d seen shit. Her heart raced.
Melissa shook her head. “I’m not leaving his side.”
“All right. But please do exactly what Remi says. He’s certified in first aid.” She swallowed as she took in the wounds consisting of massive burns on his face and upper body.
Frank blinked open his eyes. His lips parted, but only a grumble echoed from his mouth.
“Don’t try to talk,” Remi said. “Stay still.”
“Everyone to the stern table.” Presley pointed.
“We’re lucky it wasn’t worse.” Remi set the fire extinguisher to the side. “One of the other guests acted quickly when they saw the spark and shut the pilot off.” He got to his knees and opened the first aid kit. “I’ve got a good pulse. But it’s the burns and the fact he’s in and out of consciousness that concerns me.”
Presley squeezed Melissa’s shoulder. “I’m going to do a quick assessment of the boat and radio for help. It’s going to be okay.”
She fiddled with the instruments. They weren’t pulling any more power than any other charter. There was plenty of juice. It didn’t make sense.
“Without gas, we can’t fire up the generator, which would give us power.” Remi ran a hand through his shoulder-length hair. He was a native of the islands and had gone to school with Presley. After graduation, he’d moved away to the mainland. He’d wanted to be an actor and a model. He’d managed some success. But after his wife left him for a younger man, he returned to Hawaii for what he described as a life of serenity.
Now, he had a wife and a two-year-old daughter. He was about as happy and serene as they came.
“What can we do?” one of the other guests asked.
“Put on these life jackets. Just as a precaution.” Presley lifted the hatch where the majority of the vests were and began handing them out just as another set of alarms went off.
Fucking bilge pumps.
“Harry, stay with the guests and help Remi.” Presley rubbed the back of her neck. A million checklists rattled through her brain. But mostly, she repeated the mantra, stay calm, over and over again as the waves kicked up, lifting the boat, rocking it port and starboard and bow to stern.
If anyone was going to be seasick, now was going to be the time.
“Sure thing.” Harry gave her a weak smile.
She went to the port, center bilge, lifting the hatch. “Goddammit,” she muttered. She climbed the three steps to the captain’s chair and snagged the mic. “Mayday! Mayday! Mayday! This is Waylen, Waylen, Waylen. Call number Bravo Vector, nine, eight, two, four, six, seven. Mayday! This is Waylen. I’ve got an injured passenger who needs to go to the hospital and I’m dead in the water.”
Remi came up behind her and placed his hand on her shoulder. “It’s a little rough to go this route, but we do have the tender.”
“I’m not abandoning ship.” She glared.
“I can’t send Henry with the guests. He’s not qualified. And I’m not leaving you here alone,” Remi said. “The seas are getting worse. The volcano is officially active. The safest thing to do is?—”
“You know what happens if a captain leaves his vessel. I’m not losing this boat.” She lifted the mic. “If it comes to someone saying we need to motor in the tender to get help, you can go. But I’m not leaving.”
“You’re the captain.”
She blew out a puff of air and glanced toward the angry sky. “Come on, Daddy. If I ever needed your guidance from heaven, today would be the day.”
Waylen climbed into the back of a helicopter operated by a woman named Blake Garrett. He did his best to keep his smirk to himself. Only the second the pretty lady his buddy was crushing hard on had her back to them did he let loose with the grin.
Fuck off, Kian mouthed.
“Not going to happen,” he yelled over the engine’s roar. The rattle of the bird’s metal got his adrenaline going. The good old days. He missed the action, but not the military. It was an odd sensation.
“You two buckled in back there?” she called over the mic.
“Ready to roll,” Kian said before moving the comms out of the way. “I wish I felt as relaxed as you look.” He tugged at the harness. “I can’t say I’m thrilled about flying through the thick ash and smoke of a fucking volcano.”
Waylen shrugged. Thanks to Kilauea and her rumblings, he’d been evacuated from his home at least half a dozen times as a teenager. His old man had taken him up twice in a buddy’s chopper during one of her more aggressive eruptions. It was exhilarating as much as it was terrifying. “We’ll be fine.”
“And you know this how?”
Waylen laughed. “The same way I knew we would get out alive during Operation Hamster.”
“Jesus, that was a fucked-up mission and you got shot. I had to drag your ass out over my shoulder. How can you be so cavalier about this entire situation?” He jerked his head toward the pilot. “And with a stranger?”
“Miss Gardenia? Come on. Are you telling me when she drops us off back at the ranch, you won’t ask her for her number?”
“That’s a different conversation,” Kian said, adjusting his straps for the second time as the chopper lifted from the ground with a jerk. “And I’m not sure it’s a good idea to call her that.”
Waylen looked out the window. Volcanoes were a way of life on the islands, much like surfing and sharks. There wasn’t much anyone could do to stop Kilauea’s wrath, just like sharks swam in the ocean. But he wasn’t a fool. Circling a volcano wasn’t for the faint of heart. He understood it was a necessary evil in understanding which towns might already be at risk and who needed to be evacuated early.
The bird hovered for a moment before pitching forward as it gained altitude. A million memories bombarded Waylen’s mind again.
Flying with his father and his friends.
Boating with his dad, Presley, and her father.
They blended in a mirage of happiness and emptiness.
He missed his dad in the worst way. His old man had been his champion. His best friend.
And Presley… Jesus. He needed to get her out of his mind. It was fucking stupid.
“Hey, man.” Kian tapped Waylen’s knee. “What’s going on with you?” Kian arched a brow. “And don’t give me the song and dance about your dad.” He held up his hand. “I’m not belittling the emotions you must be feeling, but I know you. It’s more than that, so why don’t you tell me what’s going on before we plummet to our death circling this volcano.”
“That’s a bit dramatic.” Waylen shifted, collecting his thoughts. If there was anyone he’d trust with this, it would be Kian. “But you’re right. We’re gonna die.”
“You’re a dick.” Kian nudged his leg. “Now spill what has you so fucking melancholy I want to jump from this chopper right into the center of that damn spewing fireball.”
The helicopter banked right.
A flash from the volcano lit up the sky.
Waylen tightened his harness. It was going to be a bumpy ride. “You remember how my ex-wife took issue with all the things I wanted to keep of my dad’s and from my time here in Hawaii?”
“Elena was a bitch.” Kian shook his head. “Sorry, man. I know she was your wife, but I couldn’t stand her even when you first married her.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not sure what I saw in her either.” That wasn’t an entirely true statement. Elena did have some good qualities, especially early on. She could be kind. She had a big heart. She volunteered at the local animal shelter. He loved that about her, but she could also be insanely selfish and self-centered. If the world wasn’t revolving around her, she made sure people stopped and paid attention to whatever she was doing.
And she had to be in control.
Of everything.
It drove his mother and the rest of his family nuts. Elena came in like a wrecking ball if they were having a family gathering. Things had to be done her way, even when it wasn’t at their house.
“It wasn’t just my dad’s stuff she took issue with me keeping,” Waylen said.
“I remember she threatened to toss your old surfboard into the fire.”
“That was never going to happen.” Waylen chuckled. “Anyway. I kept a small box from high school. It had a few pictures and handwritten notes that pissed her off.”
Kian jerked his head back. “Pictures of a girl? Love notes from a chick? From when you were a teenager. You kept that shit?”
“Something like that,” Waylen said.
“You were seventeen when you left this island. Just a stupid kid. Are you trying to tell me that a young girl had ahold of you so bad you couldn’t let her go? And I’m just hearing about it now.”
“Presley wasn’t just any girl. She’s the first one I’ve ever loved. Maybe the only one I ever truly loved.” Damn, what a weird thing to admit out loud. Even to Kian. “After my dad died, I knew my mom was thinking about moving back to Maryland, but I thought she’d wait until after I finished high school. Instead, she moved us off the island before the start of my senior year. She didn’t even give me a chance to process. She told me on a Monday. We were gone that Friday. No amount of begging on my part—or even Presley’s—helped.”
“Don’t hit me, but you were headed for the Naval Academy and Maryland anyway. What difference did it make?”
Waylen shrugged. “I don’t know. Before my dad died, there was a part of me that wasn’t sure I wanted to go. I talked about going to college in Hawaii. Staying with Presley. My mom thought I was nuts. Oddly, my dad and I had some pretty amazing conversations about it.”
“You told me your father always wanted you to join the Navy.”
“He encouraged it,” Waylen said. “And he made it clear that no matter what, I wasn’t to piss away all the insane talents I was given. I was going to college. But he wasn’t going to force the Academy on me, even if we had already started the process.”
“I can’t imagine life without you having gone there or being in the Navy.”
Waylen smiled. “I honestly can’t either and Presley wanted me to do it. She and I argued more about whether or not I should enlist more than my parents and I did. But to be fair, me joining was a lifelong dream. And not just because of my dad. I was a nerd growing up. I got picked on relentlessly. Part of me needed to prove to myself and those assholes I could sit at the badass table.”
“You’re still a fucking geek. You might be able to kick my ass, but that doesn’t take away your king of the nerds title. However, what does any of this have to do with the fact you’re carrying a torch for a girl you knew over twenty years ago?”
Waylen glanced out the window. “It’s strange. I tried to forget Big Island and everything about this place when I went to the Naval Academy. I packed up everything I’d kept and put the boxes in my mom’s basement. I didn’t throw them away because my mother suggested that I give myself space and time. That if, when I came home, I still wanted to purge the memories, then four years later would be the time.”
“But you never did.”
Waylen shifted his gaze and shrugged. “Both the box and girl became out of sight, out of mind.”
“Then how did Elena come to find the pictures and love notes?”
“When my mom moved from the big house on the bay to the townhouse, she made me take all the crap I’d left behind. I got rid of some of it, but not those things from Presley. I brought them home and put them in my closet.” He raised his hand. “This was before I married Elena. However, she wasn’t happy when she found them, and even more pissed off that I wouldn’t let her toss them away.”
“I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but I don’t blame the woman.”
“You’re going to take her side? Really? I thought you were my best friend!”
Kian poked the center of his chest. “Best buds tell each other everything and you kept this Presley woman from me for a very long fucking time.”
“Jealousy is not a good look on you, man.” Waylen shook his head. “Don’t you have someone in your past that tugs at your heartstrings every once in a while? Or does Miss Gardenia up there have your panties in such a twist it’s cutting off the circulation to your brain?”
“Look who’s being an asshole now.” Kian lowered his chin. “So, tell me. What makes this Presley chick so special?”
“It’s hard to put into?—”
A crackle came over the radio.
“Everything’s fine, but there’s a change in plans,” Blake said.
“What kind of change?” Kian asked with wide eyes.
“Before I go into any details, I need to know what you boys did in the service. And I’m really hoping it involved rescue swimming; otherwise, this is going to be very awkward.”
Waylen glanced at Kian and smiled.
“We’re SEALs, so I think we’ve got a bit of experience under our belts,” Kian said.
“Finally, a surprise I can get behind. I just received a mayday call from a vessel that’s dead in the water with at least one injured passenger on board who’ll require airlifting to the nearest hospital. We’re five minutes out. I will need one of you in the water and the other to stay with me to man the hoist. I’ve got a rescue ladder and a collapsible basket on the middle front seat.”
The bird banked right and pitched down.
Jesus, the woman flew like she’d been in the military herself.
Kian reached over and unbuckled Waylen’s harness.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Waylen glared. “I’m not jumping.”
“The hell you aren’t.”
“I believe I did this the last time you and I were in the back of a chopper together.”
“I’ve got the boat in my sights. Once one of you is on board, switch to channel twenty-four so we can communicate,” Blake said over the comms. “You can open the doors now. The wind’s going to really kick us around, especially once you’re hanging below. It’ll be easier to jump using the ladder. Whoever’s staying with me can let me know when your partner’s fifteen feet off the water so I can hold her steady, but this isn’t going to be pretty. Get ready, and whatever you do, don’t drown.”
“Consider this payback for not telling me about this woman you’ve been pining over for twenty-three years.” Kian gripped his shirt and grinned.
“You’re a fucking asshole, you know that?” Waylen let out a long breath, glancing over his shoulder as the bird hovered over the angry ocean, inching closer.
The mast of the catamaran danced like a wild drunken sailor.
Waylen gripped the sides of the bird while Kian kicked the ladder out the door. Waylen shimmied down it until he was at the last rung. He glanced up, gave the thumbs-up, and released, bracing himself for impact.
He’d done this a million times. To him, it was part of the job.
But it still fucking hurt the second his feet hit the water.
And this was no exception.
Add in the rough seas, and reentry was going to be a bitch.
Splash!
He held his breath, letting his body relax. The key was not to panic. He waited a couple of seconds before charging to the surface. Once he broke, he looked left and right until he found the boat.
Waylen.
What the fuck.
Driftwood Tours.
Jesus. It couldn’t be.
He swam toward the stern with his heart firmly planted in his throat.
A woman”s silhouette lowered the attached metal ladder into the water and stretched out her hand.
Her long dark hair was pulled back into a ponytail.
He locked gazes with those hauntingly familiar blue eyes as he reached for her hand.
His foot slipped on the first rung of the ladder.
“Presley?” He hoisted himself onto the boat and ran his fingers through his wet hair. She didn’t look that much different. A few wrinkles around the eyes that came with age. There was a maturity that wasn’t there when he’d left, but again, years of living. “You named your boat after me?”
“That’s what you’re going to lead with after all these years?” She looked him up and down. “I can’t believe you’re standing on my boat.”
“A million things are going through my brain right now, but Miss Gardenia mentioned an injured passenger.”
“Gardenia? Who the fuck is that?”
He chuckled. Her foul mouth hadn’t changed. Nor had her stunning figure. Her captivating eyes. Or her beauty.
But he had a job to do.
“Blake. The helicopter pilot.”
“Can’t imagine where or why you’d give her that name, but don’t ever let her hear you call her that. I doubt she’d appreciate it.” Presley curled her fingers around his biceps and gave him a good yank.
Still as strong as ever.
“We must have had a gas leak. It blew the pilot on the stove. I’ve got a passenger slipping in and out of consciousness with some nasty burns on his face and torso. I need to get him to a hospital and transport all the passengers and my crew to shore.”
“And what about you?”
“Coast Guard is thirty minutes out.” She planted her hands on her hips. “I’m not abandoning ship.”
“Are you taking on water?”
“Not the point.” She arched a brow.
“Jesus, Presley.” He sucked in a deep breath. She’d always been a stubborn human. And loved her maritime laws. “You’re sending everyone off with the tender and you plan on staying on a boat that’s dead in the water while it’s sinking.”
“I’m the captain of this vessel. You, of all people, should understand what that means when it comes to?—”
“Don’t go quoting maritime law to me.” He’d have this argument with her later.
He glanced at the mast. “That bird can’t hover over this cat for me to lift him onto the ladder.”
“What about the tender? I know it’s rough out there, but you can get a safe distance from the mast.”
He made his way to the helm and fiddled with the dial. “Blake, this is Waylen, do you read?”
“Copy,” Blake said.
“We’re doing this the hard way,” he said. “I’m loading the injured passenger in a tender. I’ll go fifty feet from the stern.” He shifted his gaze. “While I’m prepping the injured, I need you to radio the puddle pirates—I mean the Coast Guard. Presley says they’re thirty minutes out. But she’s taking on water. We need them sooner.”
“Tell her I said to abandon?—”
“Already told her and I’ll be repeating it. For now, let’s deal with one situation at a time. The tender has no lights. All you’ll see is a headlamp.” He turned, locking gazes with Presley. “You do have one of those, right?”
“Don’t be a dick. It’s not a good look for you.” She cocked her head and pursed her lips. It was the same look she’d given him the day they got stranded on the reef. It hadn’t been her fault, but his. However, it was her family’s boat and he decided to be an ass and ask her stupid questions about whether or not she had proper safety equipment.
Which she had.
Because Presley was a stickler for that shit.
He stepped into the galley and was horrified by the sight. She was damn lucky the entire boat wasn’t at the bottom of the ocean. A hole had been blown out the side of the galley above the stove. It wasn’t a big one, but the damage had been done.
The guest in question lay sprawled out on the floor and he wasn’t looking pretty.
“Melissa,” Presley said softly. “This is Waylen. He’s an old friend of mine and he went to the Naval Academy. In that helicopter up there is another good friend. They’re going to get you and your husband to a hospital.”
“Ma’am.” Waylen knelt next to the woman. “I’m a retired SEAL. I did this kind of thing all the time. My buddy, Kian, is up in the chopper. He’s a combat medic. Your husband is in good hands.”
“Thank you.” Melissa swiped at her cheeks.
“Tender’s ready.” Remi held the tender steady. “Man, it’s wild to see you again.”
“You too.” Waylen nodded. Remi had been one of the few people in high school who hadn’t busted his balls for being such a nerd.
Gently, Waylen lifted the injured man and carried him to the stern. He laid him on the floor of the tender. “Remi, I’m going to need you to come with me.”
“I’ve got your back. Just like old times.” Remi crawled to the back of the tender.
Waylen released the line. “Go.”
The tender jerked back, then forward, heading toward the chopper.
He adjusted the headlamp.
The water spread out as the wind swirled. The helicopter approached and lowered the basket closer. He waved his hand once over his head at Kian as he reached for the basket.
He missed the first time.
He snagged it the second time. As quickly as he could, he loaded the passenger into the basket. He gave the whirlybird sign to Kian and released the basket.
The ladder slowly rose toward the chopper as it moved away from the tender and catamaran.
“Let’s get this tender back to the boat so you can get the rest of the passengers to shore.” Waylen raked his fingers through his wet hair. His pounding pulse matched the whopping of the blades. He stared at the boat in the dark water.
No lights.
No power.
Two miles from shore.
The wind shifted, pushing them in the right direction. That helped.
However, the gravity of the situation smacked him between the eyes. He knew there was no way he was going to get Presley to leave that damn boat.
Named fucking Waylen.
At least she’d never forgotten him; that was something.