Captain Chuck was still here, though, up in the pilothouse. I hoped he couldn’t hear my horrible singing as I moved my hips to the beat, but honestly, even if he could, I was too wrapped up in my happy feelings to stop myself.
As I prepped the fish and the appetizers, I couldn’t help but smile, thinking back over the past few months. There had been so much pain, but also so much new discovery that the hurt was worth it. It was almost impossible for me to try to remember the girl I’d been when I’d first stepped foot on this boat, when my stomach had turned so violently I thought I’d be ill.
The me who existed then had been quiet, and shy, and reserved. She’d been lost, not knowing who she was or where she was going, not confident enough to even look a stranger in the eyes for longer than a quick moment. She hid behind her camera and lived life through the people she captured, never even considering that she could live a full life of her own.
I couldn’t remember that version of myself, but I would always remember the way I felt that first time I laid eyes on Theo Whitman.
My stomach did a little flip at the memory, and I shook my head in disbelief that I could call him mine now. He’d be back soon, and I’d be serving him dinner, and then we’d end the night tangled up in each other.
I bit my lip, doing a little dance as I moved the trout over to the hot pan on the stove. It was already bubbling with butter and garlic and herbs, and when I gently lay the filet inside, it all sizzled to life.
“Mmm,” I hummed, doing another little hip shake. “Perfect.”
Suddenly, there was a thunderously loud thump from somewhere upstairs.
I paused, frowning as I waited to hear if anything else came after. “Chuck?” I called. I didn’t even know if he could hear me all the way down here.
After a moment of nothing else, I shrugged, tending to the trout and singing along to the stereo again. But then there was more noise, something like the faint sound of voices and steps on the stairs.
I frowned, pausing the music, but then silence blanketed me.
“Theo?” I called up the stairs, wiping my hands on the dish towel. “Is that you?”
I heard the faint murmur of voices again, and I wondered if Emma and the crew had come back earlier than expected. Or maybe it was Wayland and Theo, or Theo talking to Captain Chuck.
I didn’t want to leave the fish unattended, but I took a few steps up the stairs and called out again.
“Hello? Everything okay?”
For a long moment, there was nothing but silence.
Then, someone rounded the corner upstairs, and it was so dark that they were nothing but a shadow at first. I narrowed my eyes, trying to peer through the darkness, and when my vision steadied, my heart leapt into my throat.
No.
It can’t be.
But it was.
Joel slowly descended the stairs, one by one, taking his sweet time as his glazed eyes narrowed in on me. His dark hair was greasy and matted, his eyes hollow and underlined with dark circles.
I backed away with every step he took down until my hips hit the counter of the galley island.
“Well, well, well,” Joel said when his feet hit the bottom stair. He stood there for a minute, taking in the scene — the trout on the stove, the half-made salad in a large bowl, the mixing bowl full of what would have eventually become a cheesecake. When his eyes met mine again, I noted how red they were, how wide his pupils were dilated, and my stomach shriveled up at the sight. “Look who’s still on board. What a lovely surprise.”
“Joel,” I whispered.
“Oh, baby,” he cooed with a wicked grin, taking a few more steps toward me. “I always did love it when you said my name.”
My eyes flicked to the gun in his right hand, and I swallowed, heart throbbing in my ears. I’d never seen Joel hold a gun, let alone shoot one, not in all the years I’d known him. And that only made me fear the situation even more.
“Look, I don’t know what’s going on,” I said, holding my hands up as I backed away more, slowly, one steady step at a time across the galley. “But Theo doesn’t have to know you were here. Okay? Just… just go, and I won’t say a word.”
Joel tilted his head at that, frowning for a second before he let out a loud laugh. “Oh, Theo will know I was here,” he said. “Especially because his precious little safe is being drained upstairs right at this very moment. I wish I could stay to see his face when he finds it empty, but alas,” he said, holding his hands out wide as if that sentence could finish itself.
I forced a steady breath, even though my heart was pounding so hard I thought I would pass out. I didn’t know how Joel got here or who was with him, but one thing I knew for sure was that he wasn’t himself. He was on something, he had to be. Only drugs could have his skin that thin and ghastly, his eyes underlined with dark bags, the whites of them stained with red. His pupils were still wide, even in the galley light now, and they were constantly bouncing, like they couldn’t focus at
