Cap throttled down, but the cigarette boat kept coming toward them. It moved fast. Too fast.
He waited for it to peel off between him and the shoreline, but it didn’t adjust course. In a few seconds, it would plow straight through his lines.
Was the driver freaking drunk?
A man in the back jumped up and down, waving his arms as if he were trying to flag down a rescue chopper.
The bright yellow boat slowed hard. Its stern dropped, water rolled over the back, and the man lost his footing. He went down, popped back up, and their hull settled squarely onto Cap’s inside planer board.
“What in the hell are you doing? You just cut my lines.”
“I need to get on your boat. You have my bag,” the guy on the back of the boat yelled.
“What?”
“I just need my bag.”
“Jonathan. Get out of here!” Emma yelled.
Dammit. This guy was her ex, the one the dockmaster had told him about. For chrissake, he didn’t need this kind of drama.
Cap glanced down. All four women clustered along the port rail. Emma leaned forward, arm outstretched, finger aimed at her ex.
“I mean it. Get away from me!” she yelled.
“Sorry, buddy, but you’re not getting on this vessel or getting anything off this vessel. Do not come any closer. Whatever you need, you can get when we’re done fishing, and we get back to the dock.”
“I need it now!” he yelled back.
Cap risked a glance at the driver of the other boat and his female passenger. The man looked like he’d regretted his decision to drive this idiot out to him. Did Jonathan know this guy? Did he pay him to take him here? It didn’t matter. He wasn’t getting on this boat.
The driver of the cigarette boat gunned it, tearing through the rest of his lines on the port side.
“Dammit. Get away from my lines!” Cap shouted, though it was of no use. All the lines, boards, and equipment on that side of the boat were probably ruined already. Hundreds of dollars gone. He forced himself to take a calming breath. The ladies seemed to enjoy themselves, and he would not let this mishap implode the charter.
The other boat veered away. Jonathan screamed something at the driver, but he couldn’t make out what he’d said, and he didn’t care. All he cared about was the fact that they were driving away from him.
Cap looked at Preston. “Reel in the port side lines. Let’s see what we’re working with now.”
“You got it.”
Cap looked to the starboard side of the boat. The boards and lines looked good.
“Jonathan! No!” Emma yelled as she leaned over the back of the boat.
Cap followed her line of sight. Jonathan floundered in the water. Cap could not believe his eyes. Was the man crazy? It didn’t look like he knew how to swim, and he wasn’t wearing a life vest. That, and the fact that the water temperature hovered around sixty degrees at best, meant he’d probably experience cold water shock.
The cigarette boat roared away at full throttle.
“Dammit. Can he swim?” Cap yelled.
Emma’s head snapped in his direction. “Yes, but not well.”
As much as he didn’t need this drama on his boat, Cap couldn’t leave the floundering man in the chilly waters of Lake Michigan.
“Preston, clear the lines. We’re circling back. Ladies, help him.”
His first mate nodded at him, then instructed the clients to reel fast.
