Page 7 of Hate Wrecked

ROWAN

The marina is quiet, and the sun’s just rising, throwing a copper glow across the docks as I approach the boat I didn’t plan on boarding.

This isn’t the vessel I booked.

This isn’t the captain I was promised.

But plans fell apart last night. The original guy—Captain Marris—called me at the hotel with some half-assed excuse about the weather and mechanical issues. I didn’t buy it, but I didn’t have time to argue. Daniels was the only option available, and I couldn’t risk delaying the trip.

He’s leaning against the rail when I arrive, arms crossed, a cigarette burning slowly between two fingers. He nods like we’ve already met. I’m not sure how I feel about that.

“Captain Daniels?” I ask.

“That’s me,” he says, voice low and sandpaper-rough. “You’re cutting it close.”

“Had a change of plans. I hope you don’t mind if someone else joins.” I step onto the boat, feel it sway beneath my feet. “You said you knew the atoll?”

He blows out smoke and shrugs. “Better than most. It’s no resort, but I’ll get you there. Any excuse to get out there is one I’ll grab.”

“Oh, yeah?”

He nods. “I love the sea more than anything, son.”

“What kind of boat is this?” I ask. The name on the side reads Vanishing Point . Not a good sign.

He places his hands on his hips, assessing his vessel. “A 1990 Viking 53 Convertible.”

Riley arrives before I can ask any more questions, sunglasses pushed up into her hair, the edge of last night’s hangover still written across her face. Her steps slow as she reaches us. I can tell she’s reading him—just like I did.

“Riley, this is Captain Daniels,” I say, nodding toward him.

She offers him a polite smile. “Nice to meet you.” I catch the tension in her posture.

Daniels stares a beat too long before nodding back. “Pleasure.”

We start loading our gear. The boat’s older than I expected, scarred by weather and time. It creaks when you step wrong. The railings are rusted in spots. But it floats—and right now, that’s all I need.

We push off not long after. The engine rumbles to life, coughing like it’s been asleep too long. Salt air cuts through the morning heat as we glide out of the harbor, open water stretching wide ahead.

Daniels takes the helm without much fanfare, eyes fixed on the horizon. I hang back for a while, triple-checking the supplies, trying not to let the nerves settle in.

Then I see it.

Tucked beside the throttle levers in the cockpit is a photograph—old and faded, curling at the edges. A woman. Dark hair. Striking eyes that feel like they’re looking right through me.

Something about her expression sticks with me, but I shake it off. Maybe I’m just tired. Maybe I’m letting the pressure of all this get in my head.

Still, I step away from the helm and head below deck.

In a matter of hours, we are on our way into the frightening blue.

I spend an hour or so up top, talking to the man who has our lives in his hands, before feeling the itch to check on Riley.

Below deck, I find her sitting at the table, her hands in her lap, looking at the wall.

It’s disturbing, like I walked in on a private moment, so I clear my throat before stepping further into the belly of the boat.

“Are you okay?” I ask. It feels like I’ve been asking her this question ever since I met her.

Are you okay? Does this feel good? You need to make a choice, Riley.

I push away our past and take a seat with her.

She looks me in the eye, and I see she looks a little green. “How long is the trip?”

“Five or six days, the captain said.”

She groans.

I squint at her and she looks away. “Are you okay?” I ask, my voice gentle. Even though I’d decided to stop looking after her, I can’t help but feel responsible for her. Her presence always triggers a sense of protectiveness in me, no matter how hard I try to suppress it.

“I have a bad feeling.”

I blow out a breath, wishing some part of me didn’t feel the same. “Why didn’t you say so?”

“Because you would have made me march right back into that airport to board the plane, and I didn’t want to do that. I’m not saying I regret coming, I just…I don’t know. I’ll be fine. I’ll throw up over the side of the boat if I have to.”

“Maybe you should go up on deck then. Why are you hiding here?”

“I don’t know if it’s better or worse to see the waves.” Her voice is soft again, her anger so quickly dissipated. She burns hot and cold. Ignites me, then freezes me out. This is the worst fucking idea I’ve ever gone along with—bringing her with me.

But those damn green eyes will make me bend to her every time.

I change tactics and gesture toward her bag, where I can see the manuscript peeking out, bound with a placeholder cover.

Her mother wants her and her sisters to read it before she publishes it so they can request any necessary changes.

I hope she doesn’t change anything, because what her mother has done is write an unflinching and raw account of her life, true to the pain she’s suffered and the pain she put her daughters through when she almost died.

There is beauty in that honesty. I can see the way Riley misses her mother, and I wish she could be honest with herself.

“Have you read any of it?” I ask, lowering my voice.

Riley looks at me. “Two pages. I can’t get past the first two pages.”

“Why?”

“Because I can hear her,” she says, almost in a whisper. “I can hear her voice when I read her words, and I think...I think it’s too much right now.”

“It’s okay to miss her. It’s okay to talk to her again.

It won’t mean you didn’t have a reason to be mad at her and that you were wrong to not talk to her these past years.

” My true thoughts come out, once hidden deep down, pulled to the surface by Riley’s wide eyes.

“But you can change the relationship at any time. And your sisters, they look up to you. Maybe if you forgive your mom, they will too.”

Riley shakes her head. “You’re getting ahead of yourself. I know she’s your boss and all that, but you don’t know her the way we do.”

“I know her plenty,” I say. She’s like a mother to me, too.

She’s lucky to have her mother on this earth, alive and well. Especially after she almost lost her.

“Whatever,” Riley says, dismissing me.

I want to argue, but I don’t. It won’t do a damn bit of good, and I’m tired of fighting with her, tired of these latent desires bubbling beneath the surface, too.

I lean back in my seat, crossing my arms. “Okay. Are you going to be alright down here? I’m going up to watch the ocean.”

Riley smiles. “Watch the ocean.”

“What?” I arch a brow.

She smiles, looking down. “I remember how I used to love the way you said everything. Anything. I would listen to you talk when you thought no one was listening, and it was like every word was magic.”

I shake my head. “It’s just an accent, Riley.”

She rolls her eyes. “No, that’s not it. I don’t know.”

But I do know. I know what she’s saying, and I can’t listen to it right now.

I won ’ t listen to it. Sometimes you don’t get second chances, no matter how badly you want them and how beautiful that second chance looks sitting across from you.

Because I can still feel the loss of her like a phantom limb.

I can feel her close to my body, and looking at her makes the pain more acute.

“Well, if you’re alright, I’ll go...up.” I don’t want to give her anything else to latch onto. But I know what she’s doing. Not flirting exactly, but putting feelers out, even though I told her that door was shut.

I walk away from her and climb the steps, the warm air hitting my face and making me smile.

It’s a paradise out here. I watch the ocean, and it doesn’t watch back. Not the way Riley does. It’s half as beautiful as her. Never as haunting.

At least not in this part of the world. Clear skies for miles; the horizon promising danger and beauty.

I walk to the front of the boat, wondering when our destination will become visible. The atoll is uninhabited and in a transitional period, and I can’t wait to see the places I’ve only read about—the bunkers from the war and the downed aircraft.

We won’t have long there, just a few days of roughing it. But I need the reset. And so does Riley.

I hope this time makes her reflect on her life and everything she’s done to get here.

Do I hope I’m one of the things she thinks about? Maybe. But more so, I want it to be her family, health, and future.

I want her to see everything I see when I think of all she can do, all she can be.

She is as talented as her mother and as hardworking as her father. A protective shield for her younger siblings and a loyal friend.

And the kind of love that will crush you. As the weight of this realization washes over me, I close my eyes and let the salt of the sea fill my senses.

I’d have less heartbreak if I fell in love with these waves.

But I’m only half that foolish.

* * *

The ocean is vast, and it baffles me that I can see the island well before we reach it.

Above deck, my smile widens, and I can’t help the curse that slips from my mouth.

The captain glances at me and shakes his head.

“Don’t get too excited. We will have to go around the atoll to find the opening that leads to the inner lagoon. ”

“So?”

“We won’t make it there for another day. Go check on your girl.”

I don’t correct him. I just go below deck. Riley is still asleep when I find her. I crawl into the small bed where she sleeps, closing my eyes momentarily. The trip has been cramped. I’ve had to share space with Riley, be close to her. Closer than I’ve been in years. But there’s no alternative.

And the captain sure as hell wasn’t going to be left alone with her.

I don’t trust anyone alone with her.

After a while, I place my hand on Riley’s shoulder. “You going to wake up?”

She mumbles something, then rolls over. “Yeah, I’ve been a little seasick. Sorry.”