“Dad, Matt,” she whispered. “I miss you both so much. There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t think about you. I hope you’re happy and at peace.”
Her voice cracked as she unscrewed the lids. “I’ll carry you with me always. But it’s time to set you free.”
Charley carefully poured their ashes into the water, her hands shaking as the soft gray powder swirled and dispersed, carried gently by the ocean’s current. She watched as her eyes stung with tears, as the last tangible pieces of her family disappeared into the water.
She sat there for a long time, staring at the spot where their ashes had vanished. The quiet lapping of the waves against the boat was the only sound. For the first time, she allowed herself to hope that her dad and brother were finally at rest and that maybe she could find it in herself to move on and find happiness once again.
As the sun hit its peak and started to lower, Charley decided it was time to head back. She had been sitting out there for almost two hours. She powered up the motors but kept the speed low, wanting to stretch the moment a little longer.
Suddenly, a loud screeching sound came from the motors, and the boat lurched forward before coming to a complete stop.
“What the hell?” Charley muttered as she immediately pulled the throttle back and powered down the engines. The abrupt stillness unsettled her, and she went to check on the issue. Peering over the back, she saw the problem. “Shit!” She muttered as she eyed the stray fishing net that was tightly tangled around the propellers of both motors.
She looked around the boat, hoping she could find something she could use to cut the net. Just as she thought that she was out of luck, she remembered her brother’s pocketknife that she kept in her purse.
She walked over and rummaged through her purse until she found it at the bottom. She smiled as she looked up at the sky. “Thanks for watching over me, big brother.”
Walking back to the motors, she leaned over and started carefully cutting at the thick netting. It wasn’t easy, as the net had metal threads intertwined, making it nearly impossible tofree with just her small knife. Sweat beaded on her forehead as she worked, and her frustration grew with each failed attempt. There were a few times she had almost lost her balance and fallen into the water.
After spending an hour trying to remove the net, she gave up. She glanced at the horizon as the sun was inching closer to the water. In about an hour and a half, it would start to set, leaving her stranded in the dark. Panic began to creep in as she walked back to her bag and grabbed her phone.
She dialed her uncle, but the reception was terrible, probably because she was still too far from land. “Uncle Glen? I’m—”
“Charley? Hello? I can’t—” His voice crackled before cutting out entirely.
She groaned as she tossed the phone onto the bench seat. Her mind raced as she considered her options. But with her running out of daylight hours, there was only one option left, and that was to make an emergency call over the boat’s radio.
Just as she reached for the radio, she spotted the movement of another boat in the distance.
Charley stood up and started waving her arms wildly. “Hey! Over here!” she shouted, hoping they would notice her.
As the boat drew closer, she realized it wasn’t just any boat. It was a sleek black Zodiac, the kind SEAL teams who trained in these waters often used. Her heart thudded in her chest as the boat pulled up alongside hers, revealing a group of big, muscular men, each exuding a confident, no-nonsense demeanor. Even though she was relieved, she suddenly felt really intimidated.
Shit. They probably think I’m some dumb blonde who doesn’t know how to operate a boat.
One of the men, standing near the bow, raised a hand in greeting. He was tall, with sharp features. “You okay?” he called out, his voice deep and raspy.
The group of men momentarily took Charley aback. On one hand, they looked like capable men. But on the other hand, she had no clue who these men were. They could be serial killers for all she knew. Then again, serial killers probably looked capable too, which wasn’t exactly comforting.
This was either a rescue or the opening scene of a True Crimes episode, she thought to herself.
Although she was about ninety percent sure they were there to help and ten percent sure she was about to become a murder statistic.
She shook her head, bringing her focus back to the man who spoke.
“Uh, yeah,” she managed to say. “I’m okay, but unfortunately, the boat is not. There’s a net tangled in both propellers, and I can’t get it free,” she told him, holding up her knife to show them that she at least had tried to free it.
The man nodded and offered her a small smile. “We can help,” he told her. “Do you mind if I board your boat to take a look?”
“No, not at all.”
Charley’s breath caught as the guy leaped onto the boat with effortless grace, like he did that kind of thing every day. Well, maybe he did.
“I’m Pierce,” he said, holding out his hand.
“Charley,” she said, shaking his hand. His grip was firm but warm, and she had to fight the flutter of butterflies in her belly.
As he removed his sunglasses, her thoughts tumbled over themselves. His light brown eyes were striking, framed by thick, dark lashes that seemed almost unfair on a man. And then there was his dimple that appeared when he smiled. Combined with his sun-tanned skin and the perfectly fitted T-shirt, he was almost too much to take in.
