Page 45 of The Captain
Tamika nodded, palms flat on the canvas. “Go,” she said back. It’s what we say when we mean I’ve got her. Go do the other thing only you can do.
I stepped back, water wicking off my shorts in little rivers. My legs shook from more than the surf. The crowd applauded in that human way that makes me want to set something on fire and hug someone at the same time. The skiff pushed off, my father shoving at the stern and then wading after her to give the transom one last loving slap like a blessing.
My radio chirped. “Seven–Delta, Allard,” a familiar voice said. Ryker. “Quick check—do you have Jacob with you?”
“No,” I said. “Not with me.”
A beat of deliberate silence. “Copy. If he reaches out, ask him to call me. His vehicle’s still at the Folly access. We’re trying to get eyes on him.”
Uh oh.
The words took the cartilage out of my knees. I locked them. “Copy. If he contacts me, I’ll relay.”
“Appreciated.” The channel clicked dead.
I stood with my feet finding grit and tried not to picture an empty horizon. Tried not to picture anything at all.
I tucked the phone back and turned toward the skiff’s fading wake. “Let’s move,” I said, already stepping into the water. “We’ve got work.”
19
JACOB
Iswam, and swam, and swam. The ocean stretched endless before me, a deep blue-green expanse that swallowed the horizon. My arms sliced through the water, fins kicking with a rhythm that was more surrender than strength.
The shore was long gone, a forgotten smudge, and the world had narrowed to stroke, kick, breathe. Stroke, kick, breathe.
My body was exhausted, muscles burning, lungs straining, but my mind was quiet—set, resolute. If I didn’t see Lily this time, I’d let it be. Let the sea take me. The thought wasn’t desperate. It was a calm promise, a peace woven with sadness, the two braided into one. They filled my chest, heavy and beautiful, like a song you sing knowing it’s your last.
For the first time in years, I prayed. A simple thing, whispered into the salt and dark.
“Let me see her.”
Not a plea, not a bargain—just a hope laid bare, offered to the water like a coin tossed into a well.
I stopped swimming, my body still, the current tugging gently at my limbs. I let myself sink, and sink, and sink. Thepressure built, a fist around my ribs, ears popping as the light above faded to a soft, green glow. I held my breath until it burned, then let it go—bubbles rising like a final confession, everything in me unraveling. The last chink in my armor, gone. Done. I closed my eyes, the darkness complete … and opened them.
She was there.
Lily. My Lily.
Her blonde hair floated like a halo, catching streaks of light that shouldn’t have reached this deep. She smiled, that bright, fearless smile that used to light up my world, and reached out. Our hands touched, her fingers small and warm against mine, and the world exploded into memory.
Her birth—red-faced and squalling, her tiny fist curled around my thumb in the hospital room, her mother’s exhausted smile fading into the background. Her first laugh, a giggle that bubbled up when I tickled her belly, her eyes wide with delight. The way she’d run to me when I came home from deployment, her little legs pumping, her arms wide, crashing into me like I was the only thing that mattered. Silly dinners at the table, her spoon flinging peas across the room, her giggles louder than my ex’s complaints. Bedtime stories, her head heavy on my chest, her voice soft as she mumbled along to lines she’d memorized.
Every moment, every laugh, every tear—her first scraped knee, her pride when she tied her shoes, the way she’d point at waves and call them whales.
Her life’s canvas. All of it flooded me, sharp and vivid, breaking my heart and stitching it back together in the same breath. I was whole, and I was shattered, and it was overwhelmingly beautiful.
Love. It was love.
The scene shifted, the memories fading, and we were floating underwater again, her small form clear in the dim light. She smiled, her eyes soft, knowing.
“I’m okay, Daddy,” she said, her voice clear despite the water, like it was coming from inside me. “Now, it’s your turn.”
She reached out, grinning like she knew a secret, poked my chest, right over my heart, and the world snapped.
Pain seared through me—sharp, physical, a jolt that ripped me from the deep. Light blinded me, voices cutting through the haze.
