by V. K. Sykes
Aiden headed away from the noisy rear patio toward a quieter spot at the front of the building. “I can’t stop thinking about the old man,” he said. “You think he’ll be okay?”
Bram shrugged. “Like I told you, he hung up on me without a word when I gave him the vote result. But hey, he’ll be fine. He’s got plenty of scotch in the house, so he’ll just drink until he passes out.”
Aiden wasn’t so confident. “Let’s just hope he doesn’t take a notion to jump in the car and head down here.”
Bram frowned and then looked kind of sick.
“At least we know part of the reason he’s been such a nutjob all these years,” Aiden said.
“You mean that fucked-up Vietnam stuff?”
Despite their father’s reaction last night, which had made it obvious to Aiden that the rumors were true, his brother had remained pretty skeptical.
“When I was in high school,” Aiden said, “I remember asking him once whether he’d been drafted during the Vietnam War. He looked me straight in the eye and said no.”
“So maybe it is all bullshit then.”
“It’s not, man. I spent an hour today in the public library in the city. One of the librarians told me that getting a copy of his service record would take a Freedom of Information request, but she suggested I try looking for Vietnam medal recipients, since there are lists of everybody awarded a Silver Star or higher. I figured the odds weren’t great that I’d find his name there, but it didn’t take very long to check it out.” He shook his head, remembering the shock of seeing Sean Flynn’s name in the records. “I hit pay dirt.”
Bram’s mouth gaped open. “Really?”
Aiden gave a little snort. “Our beloved father was awarded a Silver Star in 1969.”
Bram let out a low whistle. “He not only served in Vietnam, he got a medal?”
“The third highest medal in the service.”
“Jesus. Then Vietnam’s what fucked him up?”
“Makes sense, doesn’t it?” Aiden said. He stared at the full beer bottle in his hand and then set it down on a window ledge. “Look, maybe we should go talk to him. Somehow, it doesn’t feel right to be partying here as if he doesn’t even exist. He might throw us out on our asses again, but at least we’ll have tried to extend a hand. Make sure he’s okay too.”
Bram screwed up his face. “I don’t know, man. It could get ugly.”
“What are you two gentlemen conspiring about out here?” Lily said as she peeked around the corner. She looked relieved at seeing him, as if she’d feared he’d taken off on her.
“We were just talking about Dad,” Aiden said. “I’m a little worried about him.”
Lily’s smile vanished. “Oh. Of course.”
He turned to Bram. “I’m going. Come or not—it’s up to you.”
Bram shrugged. “Yeah, I’m in.”
Aiden stepped up to Lily, resting his hand on her smooth shoulder. “I’ll see you later, after we talk to Dad.”
“Are you sure that’s the smart thing to do right now?” she whispered.
“Don’t worry. I’ll meet you back here, or at your place.”
Lily stretched up and pressed a kiss on his cheek. “Please, please be safe.”
“Always, babe.”
As he and Bram turned toward the parking lot, a rusted-out Voyager minivan screeched to a stop right in front of them. Kevin Butler—Ryan’s father and a veteran lobsterman—jumped out, leaving his engine running.
“I’m glad I found you boys,” Butler said in a grim voice. “I went to Bram’s first, but then I figured you might both be down here.”
“What’s going on, Mr. Butler?” Bram asked.
“I’m worried about your dad. I was heading to O’Hanlon’s to get some gear off my boat when I saw Sean casting off in Irish Lady. He didn’t look real steady on his feet so I yelled to ask him where he was going at this time of night.”
Fuck. “What did he say?” Aiden said. “How long ago was this?”
“Ten minutes. Fifteen, tops. He yelled back that he was going straight to hell,” Butler said. “At first I thought he was just being Sean—you know how he likes to yank your chain—so I told him he should be extra careful out there, but I’m not sure he even heard me.” Then Butler grimaced. “And it took me a few minutes to register it, but I saw a trap perched on his stern rail. Just the one. That’s when I figured I’d best go find Bram quick.”
“Christ!” Bram cried. “Didn’t you think to go out after him instead? You of all people know that a drunk shouldn’t be out in a boat, especially at night.”
Butler looked stricken. “You’d better believe I’d have gone after him, son, but my boat’s at O’Hanlon’s for repairs. It can’t go anywhere right now.”
Bram started to apologize, but Aiden cut him off. “We need to get to O’Hanlon’s.”
“That trap on the rail… just one trap… and nobody’s used Irish Lady for fishing for a long time, so…” Butler didn’t have to finish his sentence. Everyone there was surely thinking the same horrifying thought.
Aiden barely heard him as he glanced at Lily, who’d moved quietly up beside him. “I’ll call you.” He turned to follow Bram, who had already started for his truck.
Lily grabbed his wrist. “And do what when you get to the boatyard? He’s already in his boat, Aiden. On the water.”
She was right. He wasn’t thinking straight. He needed a boat, and he needed it now.
Lily read his thoughts. “We can go out in my skiff. If he’s not in the channel, then we can head to Miss Annie and start to search farther out.”
Aiden knew they had no time to debate options. “Let’s go,” he said. “Thanks, Mr. Butler. We owe you.” He grabbed for Lily’s hand but she was already racing to her Jeep. He took off after her and yelled at Bram to meet them at the dock.
“I’ll go inside and get some of the boys to get their boats out,” Butler shouted from behind them. “You’ll need the lights.”
Aiden stopped and turned. “And call out the fire rescue boat. We might need it.”
“Aiden, there’s a floating lantern in the storage box under Bram’s seat,” Lily shouted over the roar of her outboard. She had the throttle twisted to full power now that they’d cleared the boats in the harbor. “And some rope.”
Lily prayed they wouldn’t need the rope.
Aiden reached down and pulled out the gear, turning on the lantern and shining it across the still waters of the channel ahead of them. He handed it to Bram and then rummaged around, digging out the six-inch sheathed knife from Lily’s emergency kit.
“We might need this too,” Aiden said as he shoved the knife into his belt.
“I bet he’s gone to Wreckhouse Point,” Bram said, his voice wavering a little. “He used to say he wanted his ashes scattered there off the point. Back in the day, he loved to watch the sun rise behind the lighthouse.”
Aiden frowned as he grabbed the lantern back. “Scatter his ashes? What about the cemetery plot beside Mom?”
Bram squeezed his eyes shut for a moment or two. “He told me once he didn’t deserve to be buried at her side. I thought that was just the booze talking, but…” He trailed off.
Lily made a straight course for the point, paralleling the shoreline. Sean had at least a fifteen-minute head start on them, probably more, so if he was hell-bent on doing something stupid, they might already be too late. But was Sean really desperate enough to kill himself over a development deal? She felt sick just thinking about it and the effect it would have on Aiden. As much as he’d fought with his father, Aiden might see that horrible outcome as blood on his hands, and maybe on hers too.
She prayed to every saint she knew that Bram was right about Wreckhouse Point. Otherwise, they were going to be searching for the proverbial needle in a haystack, with a whole lot of water to cover inshore, much less farther out in the ocean.
“There!” Aiden said, beaming the lantern at an area about eighty feet off the tip of
the point.
Lily saw it too—the outline of a boat that looked like Irish Lady. Her heart rate kicked up a notch as she quickly closed the gap between them. The other boat wasn’t moving.
“Dad!” Aiden shouted over the gap between the boats.
“It’s us, Dad!” his brother yelled.
No answer.
Aiden crouched, his shoulders hiked and tight with tension. He gripped the lantern in one hand and the side of the skiff in the other. “Dad!” he shouted again. “Jesus, no!”
Lily saw it a split second after Aiden. The lantern beam washed over the side of Irish Lady to reveal Sean sitting on the starboard rail, his feet in the water and the lobster trap perched on his thighs. One hand clutched the trap while the other tilted a bottle toward his mouth. She could just make out a rope looped through the trap’s becket and dangling down his leg to disappear beneath the water. She had little doubt that the other end of the rope was tied to Sean’s ankle. If he went into the water, the fifty-or sixty-pound trap would drag him to the bottom in seconds.
Mother of God, he’s really going to do it.
Lily had the throttle wide open, coaxing every ounce of power out of the straining outboard. If she could cut power on her approach as late as possible, there was a chance the skiff could block Sean from jumping. Better yet, Aiden or Bram might be able to push their father backward into the boat as they passed.
But Sean wasn’t waiting. A couple of seconds later, he cocked his arm and threw the bottle at them. The missile fell well short of the skiff.
“Stay still, Dad! We’re coming to you!” Bram yelled as Lily throttled back.
She thought she saw an eerie smile on Sean’s face. Clutching the trap to his chest, he slid off the rail and into the black water.
Aiden’s instincts took over. His shoes already off, he yanked the knife from his belt as he dove over the side of the skiff. The sudden shock of the cold water robbed him of breath, but he ignored it, stroking down hard in a vertical line.
He knew the water was fairly shallow off the point, and he thanked God his father hadn’t gone farther offshore. Still, the water seemed endlessly deep as he kicked with every ounce of strength in his legs through the murky depths. He’d seen exactly where Sean went under and knew the weighted trap would have pulled him straight to the bottom. Aiden was pretty sure he’d be coming down almost right on top of his father, but would he be able to hack through the line and haul the old man back to the surface before he drowned?
Light from Lily’s lantern on the surface penetrated the deep just enough for Aiden to catch a glimpse of his father below him. He wasn’t exactly sure what he’d expected to see, but it wasn’t the desperate scene that was unfolding. His father wasn’t floating downward peacefully, submitting to the cold, unforgiving Atlantic waters. No, Aiden could see him jerking around, apparently fighting a desperate battle to get loose from the trap.
Aiden powered down to the bottom and switched the knife to his right hand before grabbing hold of the becket with his left. Sean made a half-hearted grab at him but, a heartbeat later, his arm fell away and his body seemed to collapse in on itself. Aiden’s chest squeezed tight, his lungs starting to burn from lack of oxygen.
A moment later, he was shocked to see Bram knife down through the water and grab their father by the shoulders. A shot of adrenaline coursed through him, and Aiden pulled the rope taut against the becket and started sawing away with desperate strokes.
But the fucking pot warp was tough as old boots. Aiden hacked at the line with everything he had, but it took precious seconds for the strands to finally break and separate the rope from the trap. Finally, the line broke free, and Aiden let the knife fall away. Bram was already kicking upward, lugging their father in his grip. Aiden kicked up hard too, and easily caught up to them, since Bram was holding all the old man’s weight. He grabbed Sean’s belt and clawed upward, pulling desperately toward the surface.
When they broke through, Aiden sucked in great, painful breaths and tossed his head to clear the saltwater from his eyes. They’d surfaced only about ten feet from Irish Lady. Lily had boarded her and now stood at the starboard rail with the boat’s powerful lantern in one hand and a ring buoy in the other. Another brilliant light from a boat closing at high speed bathed them in its white wash.
“Help him aboard,” Aiden choked out to Lily, as they dragged Sean between them.
He and Bram pushed up on their father’s legs and waist, managing to lift his torso from the water. Lily dropped the lantern and buoy and hooked her hands under Sean’s armpits, heaving him into the boat with a strength born of endless hours of hauling lobster traps.
By the time Aiden clambered over the rail, Lily had her fingers on Sean’s neck, checking for a pulse. “You know CPR?” he gasped.
She gave a quick nod, already starting compressions on Sean’s chest. Her face tight, she pushed down again and again and then tilted his father’s head back and blew into his mouth twice before resuming the compressions. A minute or two later—though it seemed like an hour to Aiden—the fire rescue boat pulled alongside and a pair of EMTs climbed aboard—Brett Clayton and Jessie Jameson. Jessie elbowed him out of the way while Brett knelt and moved Lily aside.
“We got this now, Lil,” Brett said.
Only when Aiden pulled himself to his feet did he register that his heart was beating so fast it felt like it was going to hammer its way through his rib cage. As he watched the paramedics work, he sucked in slow, deep breaths, trying to calm down.
Breathe, Dad. Please just fucking start breathing.
After what seemed an eternity, Sean finally choked and spewed water as Jessie turned his head to the side.
Bram had been leaning against the wheel, looking scared to death, but let out a relieved string of curses when Sean started to moan. Aiden forced a smile and bumped fists with his brother before pulling him into a fierce embrace.
“That was too damn close,” his brother said, clutching at him like he used to do when he was scared as a little kid.
Aiden patted his back. “I hear you, bro. And we’re going to make sure it never happens again.”
Chapter 22
Aiden finally emerged from the ER’s treatment area into the waiting room, haggard looking but calm. Lily rushed to meet him. Hugging him fiercely, she silently vowed to be with him wherever he went, no matter how far away it might be.
“He’s going to be fine, right?” she said against his shoulder. “That’s what Bram said.”
Bram had come out earlier and told Lily that Aiden wanted some time alone with their father. Since Bram was practically dead on his feet, Lily had put him in a taxi and sent him to the ferry terminal to catch a boat back to the island. She’d already decided to wait for Aiden and take him back to Seashell Bay on Miss Annie. After rescuing Sean, Lily had dropped Aiden and Bram at the dock so they could go home and quickly change into dry clothes while she retrieved the boat from its mooring for the trip into Portland.
Aiden relaxed his grip. “They want to keep him a few days to assess his mental state, but the doctor said there’s no cause to worry about his physical health.”
“That’s good, especially since he’s already scared us all half to death,” she said, holding back the crazy urge to burst into tears. Lily had spent most of her life loathing Sean Flynn, but now she knew how much she wanted him to make it—for Aiden’s and Bram’s sakes, as well as his own.
Lily slipped her hand into Aiden’s as they left the ER. She started to head for a taxi parked just past the entrance.
“I’d rather walk back to the boat if that’s okay with you,” Aiden said.
It was about a mile to the wharf where she’d docked Miss Annie, but Lily wasn’t about to argue. If he wanted to walk, they would walk.
When she shivered a bit at the cool night air, Aiden took off his fleece jacket and slipped it around her shoulders. They made their way to Congress Street and headed east. It was late, and the streets were mostly e
mpty. A peaceful hush settled around them. After the trauma and the challenges of the day, it felt like a blessing to be strolling quietly with Aiden by her side.
“When Bram and I finally got to see Dad, he broke down,” Aiden said after a few minutes of silence. “I mean completely broke down. I never thought I’d see something like that in my life. The old man’s always been as tough as a cheap steak, like anger was his only emotion.”
Lily squeezed his hand but remained silent.
“Bram and I just stood there staring at each other. No clue what to say or do. Finally, after he calmed down, he told us he knew the second he hit the water that he’d made a mistake and that he didn’t want to die. That’s why he was struggling so hard when I found him.”
Lily could barely imagine it. Getting dragged to the bottom by a lobster trap was every fisherman’s worst nightmare. “I gather that’s a pretty common reaction with people who try suicide,” she said.
“It’s so weird, but he said he’d always thought dying would free him. That it was the only thing that could free him. He’d just never had the guts to do it until today.”
“I’m so sorry, Aiden,” Lily said. “But what he did isn’t your fault.”
“I get it, but you can imagine how Bram and I felt,” Aiden said in a somber voice. “And here’s the kicker—Dad couldn’t believe the three of us came out to save him. He said he was sure we’d be happy to be rid of him. Then he said he couldn’t blame us.” He shook his head. “Hearing that was almost worse than anything.”
Oh, man, Sean Flynn so needed help. Lily hoped that tonight would prove to be some kind of tipping point, making him finally do something to change his life.
“What did you say to that?” she asked softly.
“I told him that he’d been a complete asshole over the years, but I’d been wrong to give up on him. And to give up on my home. It made sense when I was younger and didn’t understand, but when I was old enough to try and figure it out…” He tightened his grip on her hand and glanced down at her. “Because you should never give up on family or the people you love, no matter what, right?”