Page 65 of Until We Break

“He’s a cool kid. Too bad his mom is…”

“Carrie,” she answered.

“Yeah. But you’ve got the shark’s eye. I have a feeling he gave you the best one.”

“That was really sweet of him.” Her eyes darted to the deck of the boat. “The first summer I ever traveled to Marshoak with my mom to visit Uncle Walt, that was the one shell I knew. The shark’s eye.”

“Then it seems extra special that’s the one Lucas chose.”

“It is. I wish I still had the ones from those summers with her. It was her favorite thing to do, and I haven’t done it once since I got here.”

“That’s an easy fix. We can go tomorrow.” I hadn’t heard Margot talk about her mother much since she had been back. It seemed like a fragile subject. After everything we’d been through the past twenty-four hours, it wasn’t something I was willing to push her on. She’d tell me about her mother when she was ready.

What little I knew had to do with her brother being Walt. I wondered now if the family problems with Walt and his sister had anything to do with the Blue Heron. I wondered if Margot even knew the answer to that question.

I pulled her closer as the wind gusted around us. Over droplets of sea spray and diesel chugging from the ferry I could still smell Margot. I buried my nose in her neck, inhaling the sweetest scents of summer. She threw her arms around my neck.

My lips trailed from her neck to her throat and along her jawline. With urgency, our mouths crashed together. The ferry hit a massive wave and we were jostled roughly. Margot began to tipbackward, but I held her tighter, fully wrapping my arms around her back.

“Whoa! I thought I was going overboard.” There was a nervous squeak in her voice.

“No way. I’ve got you.” I dove in for another kiss, making sure this time my feet were squarely anchored in case another rogue wave hit the ship. Even though I was trying to be the steady one. The mainstay she could lean on, it was as if her lips were coated in sugar and magic. I was off my axis, like a compass spinning out of control. I could drown in this girl night after night. I’d ridden this ferry a thousand times, probably more, but it was a new experience crossing with Margot.

The ferry horn blasted, and Margot trembled. “Oh my God, that’s loud.” It was disruptive and shook us out of the moment.

I took her by the hand. “We’re back at Marshoak. Come on. They’re going to want us off here pretty quickly.” I put her in her car. She rolled down the window.

“Caleb?”

“Hmm.” I turned at the hood.

“Want to come over tonight?”

“Do you care that I have to get up before dawn for morning patrol?”

She shook her head. “As long as I don’t have to get up for morning patrol.”

I laughed. “Not a chance.”

“Good.” She started the engine. “You better get in your truck. Aren’t they waving us off?” She pointed ahead. I was already thinking about the rest of our night.

I tapped the hood of her car and jogged to my truck. I started it just before I drove off the ferry and onto the island. Tonight had taken a lot of turns—some shitty ones, but now that we were back on the island together I couldn’t wait for the second half to get started.

Margot

The next morning, I stretched out across the bed, wishing Caleb was still here. I could still smell his cologne on the pillow. I hugged it against my chest. It was blurry when he left, but he said something about calling me later. That part I was sure of. I had rolled back over and fallen asleep within seconds.

I ventured downstairs, smiling when I saw the coffee pot was full. He was good in bed and thoughtful. I poured a mug and walked onto the porch to sit.

The fisherman was at his post. Baiting and casting. There was something calming and reassuring to see him every day. I even knew his routine by now. He’d add a piece of cut bait to the line, jig it a few times, take a sip of coffee, and then cast. Once he reeled the line in, he’d perform the same ritual again.

I took a full breath of air, filling my lungs. It was beautiful here. For the first time, I glanced at the mainland across the sound, knowing exactly where Lucas and Carrie were. I wondered if he was already up playing in his playhouse and organizing his shells.

I realized then what I wanted to do today. I finished my coffee and went back upstairs to change clothes. There was a shed attached to the creek side of the cottage. I’d been hesitant to look through it since I’d moved in, but I steeled myself for what might be living in there and yanked the warped door open. I had to give it another tug. The hinges were rusted.

I was surprised at how many useful tools were in the shed. I surveyed the fishing poles hanging from the ceiling and the boxes of tackle on a shelf. I wasn’t wrong, though. There were more spiders and tiny frogs began to hop out. I screamed while they bounced out onto the yard.

I ventured in again, vowing if anything scarier than a frog or spider rushed me, I wasn’t going back in. I used my phone as a flashlight. There was a fishing net and a few yard tools. Then I spotted the sand pail and grinned. I peered over the edge to make sure there weren’t any creatures inside before I lifted the handle and slammed the door behind me. I had to add cleaning out the shed to my to-do list.

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