Page 46 of The Captain
“I told you, jarhead, don’t be stupid,” someone said, no malice, just relief.
I blinked, my chest heaving, water dripping from my hair. The faint taste of bile in my mouth.
I was on a Coast Guard helicopter, the roar of the rotors deafening. The same crew chief from before stared down at me, his grizzled face split with a grin. The diver knelt beside him, his mask pushed up, eyes crinkled with something like relief.
“You still owe us a night on the town,” the chief said, fishing a tin of tobacco from his pocket and tucking a pinch in his lip.
I sat up, my body heavy, wrapped in a thermal blanket. Gratitude hit me like a wave, so fierce I could barely breathe. I’d gone out to die, and instead, I’d been given a gift.
Lily’s smile, her voice, her poke to my chest—it was still there, not a weight, but a warmth. A memory I’d cherish forever.
“How’d you find me?” I asked, my voice rough, salt and emotion burning my throat.
The diver shrugged. “Anonymous call.”
I smiled.
I didn’t care who called. Didn’t need to. Lily had been there, and she’d told me it was my turn. I knew what she meant—my turn to live, to let go of the guilt, to be more than the man who’d failed her.
The obsession that had driven me into the deep was gone, replaced by a peace I hadn’t felt in years. Not a cure, not a serum, but something deeper—a quiet that settled in my bones.
I made my decision.
“I’ll take your whole fucking unit to Vegas if you can find Dr. Camille Allard and get me to her,” I said, the words spilling out, urgent but steady.
The chief and diver exchanged a look, then grinned. “Consider it done, Captain,” the chief said, spitting into his bottle and going to talk to the pilots.
The helicopter banked, the ocean stretching below, glittering under the morning sun. I stared out at it, really looked, like it was the first time I’d ever seen it. It was beautiful now, changed—blue and endless, not a grave but a cradle.
I was changed, too, the weight in my chest lighter, like I’d shed a skin I hadn’t known I was wearing.
The chopper’s hum filled the air, the coastline sharpening as we flew back toward shore. I thought of Camille—her fire, her laugh, the way she’d pulled me from the bar, her body under mine in the tent. I needed to see her, to tell her about Lily, to make her understand I wasn’t what that woman had screamed. I’d let her decide.
We touched down in a lot near the marina, the same one where I’d parked the Jeep yesterday. The chief clapped me on the shoulder, his grin wide, a good man. “You good?” he asked, his eyes searching mine.
I nodded, meaning it. “Never better.”
He laughed, a rough, warm sound, and handed me the thermal blanket. “Go find your doctor. And don’t make us drag you out of the water again.”
I stepped out, naked except for my swimsuit and the blanket, the gravel sharp under my feet. The helicopter lifted off, blades slicing the air, leaving me alone with a burning need to findCamille. The ocean shimmered behind me, and for the first time, it didn’t call me back.
Lily’s smile was with me, not a ghost but a light, and it was my turn to live.
20
CAMILLE
Iwatched the skiff shrink in the chop until it was just a low, stubborn shape and Tamika’s arm a dark line bracing the sling. My father stood there with his hands on his hips like a man trying to will a boat safe with posture alone.
The radio on my belt crackled again. Not 7–Delta. The network.
No. Not again.
“Charleston Network, Kiawah Island Fire. We’ve got a dolphin in the swash near Boardwalk 18. Alive. Heavy surf. Crowd is … large.”
I closed my eyes once and opened them into the day I’d been given. “Copy. This is Allard. Age class if you can—adult or juvenile? Head shape? Beak?”
“Longer rostrum. Gray. Adult size. She keeps rolling. Folks keep trying to push her back.”
