by Tess Oliver
Stewie shaded his eyes with his hand, and, dickwad that he was, he stood at the railing to see if my prediction was true. “Those are some heavy clouds.”
“Hey, Captain Crunch, stop second guessing me and let’s head back to the marina,” I said sharply.
“Yeah, all right.” He went back to his captain’s chair. Four attempts at turning the engine failed.
I shook my head at Cleveland. He lifted his hands as if he’d had nothing to do with dragging me along.
Stewie got up and walked to the engine compartment. He stared at all of us. “The door opens that direction.” He pointed toward the seat we were sitting on.
We got up and moved our little party to the bow. Cleveland joined us.
I opened my mouth to say something, but he put up his hand to stop me. “Yeah, yeah, I know what you’re going to say. But what would you have been doing anyhow—sitting on the couch playing video games.”
“I just hope he gets this thing started. It’s a long fucking swim back to the marina.” Almost on cue, as I mentioned a long swim, the current started churning up from a mild afternoon ruffling to a choppy, stormy layer of chaos.
The wine Melonie had been holding for the entire trip sloshed up and over the side of her glass and onto her leg. “Come on, Stewie, we need to head back.”
Stewie lifted his face from the engine compartment. “No shit.”
“You need some help?” I called back to the stern.
“Think I know my own boat, Stone,” he barked back.
I shot another annoyed look at Cleveland, and he avoided it by turning his focus to the approaching storm. The seagulls had begun to raise the alarm with their screeches. They were hovering above the water surface as it quickly became more turbulent.
Kristy, a midwest girl, who had mentioned that she’d only been on a boat twice looked worried. I scooted closer and put an arm around her. “This storm isn’t anything a boat this size can’t handle.”
She nodded, but her face was slowly draining of color.
Cleveland got up with a grunt. “Stay here with the girls. I’d better go help him.” He walked back to the stern and leaned down into the engine compartment with Stewie.
I decided a conversation might lighten the worry. “When do you two go back to college?”
“Next week,” Melonie answered. She cast a scowl her brother’s direction. “Hopefully.”
“We’ll be fine,” I said, but wasn’t too convinced myself. A few minutes later, water was splashing over the railing, the sky had gone from charcoal gray to black. The first raindrop fell. The bow was lifting and falling hard.
“Let’s move you two to the middle of the deck.” I helped them both to the passenger seat where they huddled together against the rain and icy wind. “I’ll be right back.” I walked back to the stern and smelled the acrid, oil burning odor before I’d even reached Stewie and Cleveland.
“Do you guys smell that?” I asked.
Cleveland took a deep breath, and his eyes rounded. “Smoke.”
Stewie dismissed it at first but then caught a whiff.
I turned and headed to the captain’s chair for the fire hydrant. The hook was empty. “Stew, where the fuck is the hydrant?”
He looked up from the engine compartment, and his face smoothed like marble. “Damn it. I used it the other day. I took it off to get it refilled.”
“You are such an idiot,” Melonie cried.
“Melonie, do you know how to make a distress call?” I asked.
“Yes.” She moved over to the captain’s chair and grabbed the radio.
I walked back to the stern. “Where are your life jackets?” The lazy afternoon on the water was quickly turning into a dangerous sea adventure. And I had no faith in the captain at all.
Stewie looked a little dazed. He moved in slow motion as he lowered the trapdoor on the engine compartment. He lifted the seat on the bench running along the stern and pulled out two life jackets.
“Slade,” Cleveland’s concerned tone shot over my shoulder.
I turned back. Black smoke was seeping up through the thin crack around the compartment door.
“Melonie,” I called, “did you put out a distress call?”
“Coast guard is an hour away, and no one else answered. Other boats are all in because of the storm.” Her voice wavered as she spoke.
“Fucking hell,” Cleveland muttered.
Stewie held out one life jacket. “This one is Melonie’s.”
I grabbed it and tossed it to her, then turned back to her brother, who had the movements of a sloth on tranquilizers. “Stew, your fucking boat is on fire. You have no hydrant, and that water out there isn’t exactly friendly right now. Do you only have two life jackets?”
He stared down at the large jacket in his hand. “This one is technically mine.”
“It was yours.” I took hold of it, but he held it firmly in his grip. “Stewie, let the fucking thing go.” I could hear Kristy crying behind me.
Stewie’s eyes darted to the ocean and then back at me.
“Stewie,” Cleveland said, “come on, man. Don’t be a dick.”
I yanked it hard enough that it flew from his hands. He lunged for it, and I grabbed his shirt. His eyes nearly bulged from his face as I leaned closer. “You’re a fucking disgrace as a captain. You should just go down with the ship.”
I released him and hurried back to Kristy. The jacket was way too big. “Cleve, I’m not wearing a belt. Use yours to tie this on her better. I’m going to pry the floating bench cushion off the stern. The rain was dousing the smoke as it swirled up, but steam was rising up off the deck, signaling that it was hot in the hold below.
Stewie finally snapped out of being a completely useless blob. We each took an end of the seat cushion and yanked it free. “We won’t all fit on this.” He pointed out unnecessarily.
I picked up the four foot cushion and tucked it under my arm. “It’s for the girls.”
“But what about us?” Stewie asked.
“You’ve got legs and arms. Better be ready to use them. I’m seeing some five to six foot swells out there, and the coast guard is far enough off that, thanks to your stupidity, we’ll either drown or die of hypothermia.”
“It’s just a little smoke,” he grunted as the first tip of flame shot up through the seam on the engine hatch. Stewie jumped away from it like it might wrap around his ankle and drag him below. Which would have been fine with me.
Cleveland had gone to the bow to keep watch for the coast guard.
I turned to the useless captain. “You better get a flare out, Stew, and if you tell me you don’t have one then I’m going to personally toss you into the raging storm water myself.”
He marched past me to the storage hold behind the captain’s chair. Melonie was sitting with Kristy and trying her best to comfort her. Cleveland had done a decent job of tying his belt around the giant lifejacket, but Kristy was still swimming in it. I worried that one good wave would lift it off of her.
“Wait.” Stewie straightened from the hatch. “Here are two more life jackets.”
It was almost comical how we all looked around at each other as if we needed to count the bodies on board.
“Well, the jackets are still outnumbered by one,” I said.
“You take it, buddy.” Cleveland patted his round belly. “I’ve got my own float right here.”
“That might keep you warmer, Cleve, but it’s not going to keep you afloat. I’m the only one who’ll be able to tread water for an extended time. Hopefully, it won’t be that long.”
Stewie tossed Cleveland the spare jacket and pulled one on himself.
The rain had slowed, which under any other circumstance than a burning boat would have been a good thing. But we w
ere being battered by wind and waves, and Stewie’s relic of a boat was taking its last, long look around at the world before heading to a watery grave.
Stewie readied the flare. More flames lapped up from below deck.
“Anything, Cleve?” I yelled over the din of the storm.
“Nothing.”
The flare shot up and lit the gray sky before arcing back to the water in a fiery red display.
Without the rain to dissolve it, the smoke turned into a thick, choking cloud on deck.
I went over and crouched in front of the girls. The deck was lava hot beneath my shoes. I took Kristy’s hand. “Do you know how to swim?”
“Yes,” she said with less confidence than I would have liked to hear, considering we were about to jump into the stormy Pacific.
“We’re going to lower that floating bench cushion into the water. You two girls need to keep your upper bodies up on it as much as possible. The air above the water still has some summer heat, and if we’re lucky it will keep you from hypothermia.”
I looked over at Cleveland and Stewie. The grave looks on their faces mirrored the way I was feeling. “We need to get off before this thing blows,” I said.
Kristy cried out and grabbed hold of me.
“I’ve got you. You’ll be fine. The coast guard will have seen the flare, and I’m sure they’re headed this way. We’ll probably only be out there for a few minutes.” I tried to sound upbeat, but our grim situation made it hard.
Stewie reached down and made a ceremony of saluting his captain’s chair as if his last important duty as a captain was saying good-bye to his ship. Cleveland was biting his bottom lip, a habit of his when he was nervous, although it usually only happened when he was about to talk to a girl. I was in far better physical shape than either of my shipmates, but if the water was too cold, it would be that much harder to stay above the surface.
We had to walk a wide berth around the hatch door to avoid the flames that were now lapping at our legs.
Cleveland carried the bench cushion. Melonie and Kristy held onto my arms. I helped them onto the ledge running along the back of the stern. The boat was starting to take on water and the waves basically came up to meet us. Cleveland lowered the float in front of us, and as I helped Kristy grab onto it, Melonie was knocked off the stern ledge by an angry wave. Stewie pushed off but was moving at too slow of a pace to get to Melonie.
She screamed as the water went over her head. “Cleve, hold this.” I pushed the float closer to him. “Make sure Kristy holds on.” I dove off and swam for Melonie. The water was colder than I’d expected, and my limbs were slowed by the drop in temperature. Melonie grabbed hold of my shoulders and with some effort, I got her back to the float. She pulled herself up next to her terrified friend.
Behind us, Stewie’s boat was slowly being engulfed by flames. The long plume of black smoke would help the rescue boat see us, but for now, it was just us, the turbulent, cold water and the complete lack of safety equipment.
Stewie’s life jacket was up around his ears as he turned toward the flames. He looked close to puking as he watched the Sea Empress, a boat that I was sure had been in his family for years, get overtaken by fire.
“Just think—Stew—” I said, not feeling the slightest bit sympathetic, especially after I’d had to wrestle the life jacket from his hands. “If only you had refilled that fire extinguisher.”
“Shut the hell up, Stone,” he muttered.
Cleveland bobbed up and down on the water like a big, wobbly sea creature. I swam over and put a hand on the girl’s float just to make sure the current didn’t drag them off. I had figured I could easily tread water for an hour, even in rambunctious water, but the cold ocean temperature was sapping my strength faster than expected. I had half an hour tops. And from the way the girls were shivering, they had even less time. I looked out at the open sea. There was no sign of another boat.
Chapter 26
Britton
Slade’s car was in the driveway. I sat in my car for a good ten minutes trying to talk myself out of this. He’d never let me explain anything. I just wanted that chance. I pushed the driver’s door open and stepped out. A misty spray of rain was being blown on shore by a strong wind, but the sky above the town was still blue.
By the time I reached the door, my stomach was twisted into a painful knot. I knocked.
A minute later the door opened. It was Slade’s sister-in-law, Amy. A frown crossed her face. “Slade isn’t home,” she said curtly.
“Oh, thanks. It was sort of a surprise visit so that makes sense.” I turned to leave.
“Wait, Britton, why don’t you come in and have a soda? Hunter’s out too.”
I hesitated.
The frown vanished, and her radiant smile appeared as she grabbed my hand. “Come on. I live with two Stone brothers. Girl talk is like a friggin’ walk in a park full of flowers and free ice.”
She held my hand, led me to the kitchen and motioned for me to sit. She squinted one eye in my direction. “Hmm, you look like a lemon-lime kind of girl.”
“Good call.”
She grabbed us each a glass of ice and a soda and pulled up a chair across from me. We sipped the cold drinks. Amy was one of those people who was never a stranger to anyone. You instantly felt as if you’d been friends with her forever. It was a cool and rare quality. I admired her for it.
She smoothed her pretty copper hair back. “I told Hunter I wanted to cut my hair in that pixie style, but he looked grumpy about the idea. Of course, grumpy is sort of his usual expression. Even when he’s having a good time, he’s wearing a scowl.”
“They say opposites attract, so you two are perfect for each other.”
“I guess so.” She took a sip and laughed. “Shit, if that isn’t a major understatement. It was like someone dropped that big ole butthead onto the planet just for me. I never saw myself with anyone but Hunter. Weird, huh?”
“Not at all. You strike me as the kind of person who would know when she found the right person.”
She laughed. “Hey, do you want some cookies? They’re those pink and white animal shaped ones with the tiny sprinkles.” Before I could answer, she’d sprung off the chair and reached up into the cupboard for the cookies. She seemed to weigh the bag on her palm and creased her brow. “Those pigs have eaten half the bag.” She placed the cookies on the table. “I swear sometimes that they’d eat my hand if I was unlucky enough to stick it in the bag at the wrong time.”
“It’s got to take a lot of food to keep those two guys happy.” I opened the bag and grabbed out a cookie. “I confess that I have a weakness for junk food. Slade got to see my dirty little secret firsthand on our road trip.”
“See, I knew I liked you.” She grabbed out a cookie and looked at it. “Scored an elephant.” She turned it around. “Or maybe it’s a lion.” She shrugged and popped it into her mouth. “My mom used to put these in my lunch. I love nostalgic stuff that reminds me of grade school. Don’t know why. I just do.”
“Hmm, let’s see why—playing at recess, parties at friends’ houses and no worries about paying the rent or any of the crap that comes with adulthood.”
“Yep, that’s it.” She raised her can. “Here’s to kidhood.”
We toasted and sipped.
She glanced around her kitchen. “This was the house Hunter, Slade and Colt grew up in.” Her face smoothed, and she tapped the can with her finger. “They didn’t have a good childhood.”
I nodded. “Yeah, I sort of caught that. Sounded really harsh.”
“It was.” She leaned back. “But they all came out of it all right. Not everyone would agree, but I think they’re all great guys. Colt and Slade are like brothers to me. Colt and I argue like siblings.” She leaned forward. “I take pleasure in irritating him. Slade, he�
�s always been the most levelheaded of the three. It might have been because he wasn’t the oldest and he wasn’t the baby. Not that he didn’t suffer just as much as Colt and Hunter. He did.”
My throat tightened at the thought of Slade having to endure so much hardship as a kid. “I’ve never met anyone like him,” I said. “When he came to find me—” I blinked back tears. “I hadn’t told him about my marriage because, to me, it hadn’t been a marriage for a long time. There is still a piece of paper keeping me legally tied to Ryan, but that’s all there is. But Slade was so shocked and hurt and—” I shook my head. “Shit.”
She reached over and took hold of my hand. “I’m going to tell you something, but you are sworn to secrecy cross your heart hope to spit on your mother’s grave or step on a crack or whatever. You can’t tell Slade.”
I nodded.
“I’ve known Slade my whole life. He usually just blows through each day a happy camper. Not much bothers him, and he’s always in a good mood. In fact, I’ve always considered him to be the easiest Stone brother to hang out with—less grumpy and funny as hell.”
“Totally agree.”
“Since that day when he found out you were married—he’s been moping around like Pooh’s little blue donkey, you know the guy with the pin-on tail. Why the heck couldn’t that Christopher kid sew that tail on?” She waved off the question. “Anyhow.” She pulled an invisible zipper across her lips but then spoke again. “It’s the first time any woman has had an effect on his life. I’m not kidding. He liked you. I will amend that. He likes you.” She leaned back. “Do not tell him I told you that.”
I smiled. “I won’t say a word or spit on a mom’s grave or anything like that. But since we’re giving out secrets, I can tell you, I really like him too.”
The front door opened. We’d been so deep in conversation, we hadn’t noticed that the clouds had darkened the skies above the house. Hunter walked in, instantly filling the kitchen with his massive physique. He looked upset, but, thankfully, it didn’t seem to have anything to do with me sitting at his table.