Page 91 of Wayward

“Yes. It took me a while to figure it out. It’s why I divorced her. But I didn’t have complete proof. And then when you were missing, she was so . . . fucking helpful. Damn it. She was helpful because she knew where you were the whole time?”

“I don’t think the whole time. But for the last four months? Most likely.”

“She convinced me that it was Roger Harding who had gotten the laundering going. Right before we left for the trip. I thought about selling my shares, but I couldn’t get a lockdown on the right price for the total company. I thought I could walk away and get rid of the whole mess. Instead, they decided to get rid of me.”

“I don’t think they were trying to get rid of you, Rocky, but Easton.”

“I never changed my will. Half of Rockwell Tire would have gone straight to her.”

There’s a red tinge to Rocky’s face. Dante, Easton, and I lean forward because I’m worried he’s going to have a heart attack. Rocky sinks down next to Mike. “We need to get her on tape. You’ve got twenty minutes to figure out how to keep this from sinking both companies and landing both me and Harding in jail. We need a film crew and a reporter who has enough clout tomake this go big. I want Susan and the Zambrano family to go down in flames. Jail’s too good for them, but I won’t settle for less.”

Easton’s leaning forward, and I can tell he wants to bring up his mother’s death. I squeeze his hand. He squeezes my hand in return and leans back on the sofa. “There’s more, Dad, but let’s start with this for now. Mike’s going to need more than twenty minutes.”

Mike laughs. “I’ve been with Rocky long enough to know what twenty minutes means. Do it fast and right. No worries. I have a team back in the States working on things already. This is going to sound insensitive?—”

“Then don’t fucking say it,” Easton growls.

“What?” Sam asks, at the same time.

“I’m sure it’s not needed, as I can tell you all have a tight bond. But as crew for Rocky’s ship, you are still beholden to the NDA you signed last year.”

“Shut it.” Easton lets go of my hand and stands, thundering across the room in two steps. But I’m right behind him as he’s inches away from Mike’s face.

“Easton?” I put my hand on his arm. “Your family is our family now.” I turn to the rest of the guys, and they nod. “We wouldn’t do anything to hurt you, Rocky, or Emily.”

“Now, about Susan...” Calvin stands. “Are you sure she’s still around? If she gets wind on social media that we’re back . . .”

“I’ve got a security guard at her door, and her assistant messaged me that Susan is taking a nap after this morning’s meetings,” Mike says. “I’m stepping out. I’ll be back when I have the exact time of the interview.” He stops at Calvin. “Forty-five long?”

“Forty-five along what?” Calvin cocks his head to the side.

“Your suit coat size, Calvin,” I say.

“I’m not wearing a suit coat. There’s a reason why I became a ship engineer.”

“For the camera crew?” I ask. And it’s the first time I take the six of us in with the perspective of someone who hasn’t lived on a beach with almost nothing for the last year. We’ve got a feral edge. Or maybe that’s just me with my chopped hair.

“Nothing says a unified front more than a uniform,” Sam says.

Mike snaps around, eyes suddenly alight. “I can do that.”

“I’d like one too,” Easton adds.

Rocky puts his hand on Easton’s shoulder. “I’m going to need you to explain what the hell is going on with the lot of you, Easton. And I’ll leave my judge’s robe in the closet.”

Chapter 40

Making Port

Calvin

It’s the fucking tone that Rocky’s laying down. It makes my skin crawl, and I want to put my fist into an iron plate. Or his face.

“Dad.” Easton stands. “We’ve been through a lot. And we’re together now. It works for us.”

Rocky’s eyes flick around the room, stopping on each one of us. “That’s . . . As long as it works for you and you’re happy.” His head bobs.

I want to believe he means it. While I was on Rocky’s old boat for a couple of seasons, I wasn’t out and about in the owner’s area much. But I’ve always gotten the sense that he’s the kind of guy who says what he means.