“There are a hell of a lot of memories with Seb here, and a hell of a lot of reminders, especially that empty hook in the gear room.”
I grimace. Apparently, Seb’s jacket kept falling off the hook on the ride back to Seattle, and the guys got spooked. Wes said they tossed Seb’s jacket overboard to appease the ocean, or in case Seb wanted to keep it, as Lawrence helpfully suggested. At least they left his fishing bib on the hook and his boots in the cubby below, a depressing little memorial I never want to take down.
“That reminds me.” I reach into a drawer and toss Morgan an unopened pack of cigarettes. “I found Seb’s secret stash behind an access panel.”
His eyes shimmer with threatened tears, before shuttering. He hands the pack back.
“No. Keep them.” I push his hand away, wishing I could hold it instead.
“Thanks.” He flashes a brittle smile. Silenceswells. “I better go. I was in the middle of something. Thanks for checking on me.”
Sadness seeps into my bones. “Sure.”
“Oh, and Cole?”
My sinking heart slows its descent. “Yeah?”
“Seb would be proud of you too.”
Would he? I don’t think so.
SIXTEEN
Morgan
If you stay up toolate and stare too long at the ocean, you’ll start to see things. Hear them too. It’s happened to all of us. Sirens, maybe, but nobody’s singing and the visions aren’t pretty.
It’s death and destruction, the ocean staring back at you. It’s the amber glow of flames on deck, the bobbing lights of a ship you never pass, the silhouette of the last captain standing behind your back. It’s the phantom splash of someone falling overboard. The distant cries of a crew lost at sea. The whispers of a loved one using their last breath to warn you of their death, but you’re too far away to do anything.
The radio scratches. My pulse races into a canter.
“Sleeping Beauty, this is theUnfathomable. You got me here?”
I grab the mic with a yawn. “Hey Kent. It’sBriar Anteros, not Briar Rose. Is it two AM already?”
TheBriarand theUnfathomablecaravan up the coast every year, even though both crews hate each other. It’s a ritual Dan Morrissey and Kent’s dad, Luke, started decades ago. Any captain who survived this long without sinking their ship would be crazy to change it.
Kent was Cole’s friend first, but we forged our own friendship over the monthly calls he made to check on Cole after he gothurt. Now that we’re both at sea, we’ve been keeping each other company on lonely night shifts.
“How are things over there?” I ask.
He sighs. We should be alone on this frequency, but you never know who could be listening. I pick up my phone and call him.
“What do you think about hiring me?” Kent whispers upon answering. “I don’t know how long I can do this.”
“Say the word and we’ll come get you.”
TheUnfathomablesare known for being assholes, and as the youngest of three sons, Kent has taken the brunt of the verbal abuse. The crew chews through new staff and spits them out season after season, but they treat Kent even worse because he doesn’t fit into their toxic frat boy culture.
A few years ago, Kent told me and Cole that he’s gay. He’s terrified that his family or crew might find out. I feel for the guy. My uncle kicked me out when he figured out I was bi.
“What about Cole?” Kent asks.
“He’ll say yes.” Cole has changed a lot, but not enough that he’d refuse to help Kent get out of a tight spot. “Besides, I’m half-owner so Cole has to half-listen to me.”
“Is that a hot dog or a hamburger split down the middle?”
“Hamburger, and I’ve got the half with the engine. You have a place here if you need it, okay?”