“But was there really a chance to save him?” I ask, my voice filled with concern.
He shrugs. “At least I died trying.” His words hit me hard. “I don’t think I could have lived with myself if I didn’t, so it’s better like this anyway.”
“Do you know what happened to your crewmate?” I inquire.
“I was able to grab his hand, but another wave ripped us apart. He was lost to the sea. There was a lot lost that day,” he mutters, his voice barely above a whisper.
My nose burns, and I feel tears filling my eyes, one escaping down my cheeks.
Goddammit.
I rub it away with the sleeve of my hoodie.
I had promised myself that I would never, under any circumstances, help a spirit again. I still live with the traumaand consequences the last time brought me. I wanted to help, like I did so many times. And instead of gratitude, I got myself a dark room locked from the outside. The echoes of the past are persistent, and in the chill of the darkness, I can still hear the whispered words.
Weird.
Crazy.
But as I look at him, sitting before me, head low, and his beautiful, otherwise always smiling face scrunched up with pain and regret, I can feel it in my bones.
I want to help him.
No, Ineedto help him.
He is genuinely a good guy, even when his brothers don’t seem particularly the same, and he doesn’t deserve to be stranded here, lost in the between.
He took a leap to save someone, to help, and it didn’t work out.
Sounds familiar.
I let out a long, shuddering breath. “I guess you know where that necklace is?” I ask him, and he looks back at me with wide eyes and hope.
“I do, but it’s a little complicated.”
ELEVEN
“You’ve gotto be kidding me,” I mutter under my breath.
I’m in my running gear, wearing black tights and a white sports top under a tight black jacket with thumbholes, with my hair pulled back into a ponytail.
I thought it would look less suspicious. I could say I got lost on my morning run if I got caught hanging around the shipyard.
The sun is peeking over the horizon, making the waves on the water sparkle. The sound of them crashing is as loud as my heartbeat in my ears.
“This is so freaking wrong, and I could go to jail for this, you know that,” I whisper to Saylor, who is standing beside me.
“North should think about a better hiding spot for the spare key if he doesn’t want people to get in. He hasn’t even installed a new security system after the last one broke since he thinks no one would steal a freaking boat out of a repair shipyard when there are working ones right in front of it in the harbor. Besides, who would steal from the distinguished Jones family?” Saylor laughs sarcastically.
I frown at him. “That’s your family too.”
He shrugs, but there’s so much more to unpack there.
Later.
Right now, I have to make myself a criminal and break into this building.
I remove the key from its hiding place between two bricks next to the side door. Saylor’s right. This is a pretty lousy spot for an emergency key.
