Page 68 of My Brother's Forbidden Friend

They all say “ohhh” in unison.

“Then let’s get started. Please remain seated while I get us to where we’re going to fish.”

I go to my wheelhouse and start the engine, then navigate out of the marina. Cam’s already ahead of us. For some reason, I thought he was going to wait for me because he was worried, and then I was going to give him a piece of my mind.

When we get to open water, he turns to the right, and I go to the left to head toward Sandcastle Island. It’s an island that’s not habitable, but a lot of boats stop for their guests to walk in the water and even swim. There’s a good fishing spot, and if it ends up being bad, I figure this group won’t mind partying there.

The guys all continue to drink on the way to our destination, and I’m pretty sure they’re talking about me since every once in a while, one of them looks my way. Other than that, they seem harmless, although not one of them is wearing a wedding ring. I like the married guys better because they usually treat me with more respect.

I cut the motor when we reach our destination, and we glide to a spot I’ve had success with in the past. After tossing the anchor down, I get the poles ready and pull out the bait. “Okay, guys. Does anyone need help?”

“Oh no, we’re all skilled,” one guy with a cocky attitude says. I can read the innuendo in the way he says it that we’re not talking about the same thing.

Everything is good for about forty-five minutes. Mostly because these guys are struggling to get their bait on because they’ve all drank way too much. After I’ve gone around like a kindergarten teacher and helped each one, they sit back and relax, waiting for the fish to snatch the bait.

I bring out the food, but none of them are interested in eating.

One of them falls asleep and the rest decide to draw on his face. I roll my eyes because I hate these charters. These are the ones where I’m thankful I have a gun in the locked box.

“This is boring. Did you say something about an island?” the bald guy says.

“Yes.” I glance at my watch. “But we wouldn’t have much time there.”

“Better than this.” He stands and steps on the edge of the boat. “To the island.”

“Please get down before you fall.”

Thankfully, he listens. I bring up the anchor and start the motor. One of the guys helps me collect the rods, and I hang them from the back of my boat.

When we arrive, the island is crowded because it’s a Saturday night and you never know, this could be the last warm weekend of the season. One of the guys runs and jumps out of my boat before I can drop anchor.

“Don’t do that again,” I call to him.

He just laughs and walks up the sand, approaching the first woman he sees.

They each file out with their beers in hand and walk the island while I wait in the boat. I’m busy on my phone, and when it’s time to leave, and they haven’t returned, I hop off the boat in search of them.

They’re scattered along the beach, some swimming, one making out with a girl, two more tossing a football. I wonder where it came from until I see a pouting kid on the ground near them.

“This group is horrible,” I murmur to myself. “Reelaxing Fishing Tours is leaving now. So if you came with Reelaxing Fishing Tours, get back to the boat now. Otherwise you’ll be left here.” I yell it loudly enough for them to all hear, but none of them come. This is what I was afraid of.

I walk back to the boat and find two of the guys there, asleep again. So much for them helping me round up their friends. I glance at my watch. We’re now five minutes late. Another guy stumbles over and says the other three are on their way, but when the other three join us, they have three girls tagging along.

“I’m sorry, just the charter guests are allowed on board. If you’d like to meet up with them, I’m dropping them in Sunrise Bay.”

The girls all look at me as though I ruined their night.

“Come on. Loosen up a bit. I thought you were gonna be a fun one,” the guy says and falls face-first on the boat. Blood splatters. I’m pretty sure he might have broken his nose.

He gets up and laughs, as do his two friends.

“Holy shit!” one of the girls cries.

I grab my first aid kit and help the guy get control of his bleeding. Thankfully it’s just a cut, not a broken nose.

“We just have to pour alcohol on it.” His friend tips a bottle of vodka over his face, and it spills all over my boat.

I close my eyes and suck in a deep breath.

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