Page 11 of Until We Break

“It doesn’t work like that,” Dean explained. “Aren’t you a writer now?”

The question made my stomach lurch. I felt the acid rise in my throat. How did I answer that? Did I tell him I was a writer until I hit ultimate failure? Or did I just leave that part out andpretend I had a book in the works that would hit the bestseller list?

I nodded silently.

“This could be a good place for a writer to write.”

“I didn’t come to Marshoak Island to write. I came because you didn’t give me another choice. What do I do with all of this? Without the money to make things right?” I looked up at him.

Dean sighed. “You have two options.”

I waited for the answers. “Yes?”

“Sell the Blue Heron and pay off the taxes and creditors. I think that’s probably your best choice. It’s prime waterfront property. You’ll have investors in here tomorrow if you decide to sell. I could probably even help and line up a few for you.”

“Or?”

“Open it back up. Get the marina running again and see if you can turn a profit here. Something your uncle never figured out how to do.”

It had been hours since Dean had dropped off the bills, taxes, and the bomb. He thought I had options. Instead, it felt as if my uncle’s death had put me in a cage. Sure, there were bars I could see through, but no way out until I dealt with the marina.

I found a few cleaning supplies in the laundry closet. Enough to wipe down the kitchen counters and the upstairs bathroom. I discovered a few sets of sheets and fluffed them in the dryer.Sleeping in the cottage wasn’t my first choice, but I was in dire financial straits. I couldn’t waste money on a hotel.

Only one night ago, I had packed everything I owned and spent the last night in my New York apartment. Tonight, I was listening to cicadas on Marshoak Island, North Carolina with the windows wide open. I hadn’t found a fan. I’d have to go into town tomorrow and pick up a few supplies.

I heard the ding of my phone. It was a text from Dean.

I hope you get some sleep tonight. Let me know if you need anything.

My frustration and aggravation at him kept me from texting back. I didn’t care. Part of me blamed him for this mess I was in. The only thing I could be grateful for was that he didn’t bring up my last summer on Marshoak. Maybe he had matured or maybe it didn’t have the same impact on him it had on me the past seven years. I turned the phone to silent and tried to find a position to sleep in where my skin wasn’t sticking together.

I made a mental list of everything I would need to pick up at the store tomorrow.

I heard a crack of thunder like the end of a whip hitting concrete. Oh shit. The small cottage rattled as a storm began to kick up off the coast. I wondered what kind of mess it would create for me and if the roof would still be on in the morning.

SIX

Caleb

Iheld the bar as the helicopter pitched hard right. Fuck. Nights like this when the storms popped up, I questioned people’s sanity, mainly mine.

We didn’t know the reason the boat was out, only that it was our job to save lives.

I gave the pilot a thumbs up to let him know I was still holding on and clipped into the chopper. Gabe was in the seat next to me leaning out the open side. We scanned the water for the boat that made the distress call. The coordinates had been guesses and there weren’t reliable landmarks. We were flying blind for the search and rescue mission.

The spotlight kept a steady hold on the water. We didn’t miss or jump over any surface area.

Gabe signaled he saw something and pulled the radio receiver to his mouth. The Brady circled back around just as another streak of lightning crawled across the sky.

I closed my eyes.It won’t be like last time. It won’t be like last time.

Gabe fist-bumped me. “You good, man?”

I nodded. He hadn’t stopped bugging me since my last mission. I needed to get it out of my head and focus on this rescue. As the helicopter lowered the spotlight hit a mark on the water. Holy shit. The boat was nearly fully submerged. On the bow was a man, a woman, and their two kids. I couldn’t tell what kind of vessel it had been, the sea was taking it as her own now. Not a single member of the family was wearing a life jacket. Shit.

We had minutes if we were lucky before she sank and took all four of them down with her. The force of the undertow would make it impossible for them to navigate. A good swimmer didn’t have a chance. An excellent swimmer could possibly survive the jarring, disorienting throttle that kind of water pressure would cause.

I grabbed the radio. “We have to go now! Let’s go. Station here, Brady.”

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