her alive. Lifeless. Nothing about her was there, but then came the words “You can let go” whispered that night. To this day, I don’t know who said them. Because it wasn’t Athena. Regardless, I picked myself up off the floor and gave everything I had to a little boy who needed me.
Now what am I doing? Caught between the relentless need of her and the persistent desire to be what Atlas needs me to be.
Sighing, I push the thoughts aside and slide away from the edge. The dock sways, a man, with a pipe in hand and smoke curling between his lips, watches me from a distance.
The realization that Journey’s existence in this is a weight I didn’t plan to carry, yet here I am, sinking faster than I ever thought possible. My stomach churns with guilt.
Exhaling a slow stream of smoke, it dances through the sunlight, curling around his face. He doesn’t move. “Where is it?”
Devereux tears his eyes away from mine and to the water. I notice the worn expression, the darkness under his eyes. “I don’t have it.”
Taking one last drag of my cigarette, I flick it in the direction of the trash can teetering on the edge of the docks. “What the fuck do you mean you don’t have it?”
He paints an unconcerned expression on his smug face. “It’s exactly what I mean. I don’t have it.”
Reaching beside me, I take the knife from my pocket. Without hesitation, I grab Devereux by the front of his jacket and yank him to my chest, the knife presses to his throat. It indents but doesn’t break the skin. “You have one day to get it back or I make you bait.”
He stares at me, confusion in his eyes. His eyes dart behind me, to the jetty. I don’t trust Devereux. I never have. But when Bear is constantly running us into the red and our fines outweigh our catches, you make deals with the devil. Devereux Belmont has the ability to ruin our lives as fishermen and he’s doing just that.
He pushes away from me, his jaw tight as he backs up a step, but I don’t let him go. I take my chaotic thoughts out on him because he’s here, and he’s the problem. “I gave you the fucking money we owed you. Done deal.” I look through him, to his cold eyes that portray a man who’s lost everything. I know that look. I live it. Every goddamn day. “One day. That’s it. Or I’ll slit your throat right here,” I warn.
His body tenses, turning his head away from me. “I’ll get it.” He nods, the knife scrapping over his leathered skin. “I will.”
I raise an eyebrow, my breath blowing over his face. “You don’t want to see me pissed off.”
“I said I’d get it and I will.”
I release my hold and pocket my knife as Bear approaches, bait buckets in hands. “We ready?” he asks, passing by us and onto our boat.
I nod, back up a step, and wink at Devereux. “Have a nice day, Belmont.”
Bear smirks, bending down to set the buckets on the stern. “Making friends?”
I stare at him. Bear has no idea the sacrifices I’ve made to keep us going. Not a goddamn clue. “Not really.” I nod behind me to the port. “Did you get the slip taken care of?”
“Yeah. Met your girl too.” He pulls out a napkin from his pocket. “She told me to give you this.”
Rolling my eyes, I turn my attention toward the jigs. I notice the condom wrapper as Bear sets the napkin on the table. “If I had to guess, I’d say that little girl is falling hard.”
Falling? I don’t know. She’s not giving me the vibe she’s falling. More like putting herself back together again, one cracked piece at a time. Isn’t that what I’m doing?
Din and Nivio pile onto the boat, their wild laughter and crude commentary of the baristas at the coffee stand following. Reaching down, I grab the wrapper and napkin before pocketing both.
I read it first.
Her phone number and the words, If you need a friend at 4:00 a.m.
Gaff Hooks - Large hooks on the end of a pole used to snap fish brought to the boat, and pull them in.
I haven’t slept in a little over twenty-four hours, and I’m not tired. A little sore, but definitely not tired. How’d this happen? How’d I become this girl so quickly?
Easy. The brooding fisherman’s got game. It’s always the ones