The First Step, page 16
“Storm tracking’s dead-on. He has reason to be worried.” Justin picked up a piece of bacon and nibbled it. “Thanks for breakfast, by the way.”
“Happy to do it. It’s about the only thing I know how to cook.” Reed picked up his coffee, took a sip, then asked, “What’s up with the pilots? What do you all do when a storm’s coming in?”
“We’ve got a few ships coming in early tomorrow. We’ll turn ’em around pretty quick. They don’t want to be sitting in the port during the storm—they’re safer out at sea.” Justin smiled, but the butterflies in his gut were back with a vengeance.
“You doing okay?”
“I’m fine. Everything went fine first time back, didn’t it?” He didn’t want Reed worrying about him.
“It did.”
“Nothing to it.” Justin glanced out the window, where the wind was already causing some of the crepe myrtles to bend. Tiny pink flowers danced in circles with the stiff breeze. He finished his last piece of bacon and popped his plate in the dishwasher.
“Where’re you headed?”
“I’m going to check on Marty. From here on out, things could get pretty hectic. I just want to be sure he’s doing all right before they evacuate.” Justin lifted the coffee pot. “Refill?”
“Nah, I need to get going too. I’m headed over to the paper.” Reed carried his dishes over to the sink.
“Paper?”
“The River Watch. The publisher I work for owns it. I’ve set up camp there.” Reed tapped his jacket pocket. “I’ve got a few notes I need to transcribe, and I’m hoping to get a few interviews with Wilmington business owners ahead of the storm. See how they’re preparing, that sort of thing.”
Justin nodded. “Dinner tonight?”
“How about I pick us up something from town? Give you a break from cooking for a change?”
“Works for me.” Justin grinned at the thought of another night with Reed. “I’ve got a nice bottle of Chardonnay I’ve been meaning to drink. Think that’ll work?”
Reed nodded and leaned in to kiss him. “That’d be perfect.”
“YOU SURE you want to go outside?” Justin asked as he pushed Marty closer to the sliding doors. “Wind’s strong.”
“I can handle the wind.” Marty spoke with such conviction, Justin was reminded of when they’d ridden out storms years before.
Overhead, wisps of clouds made their way in long lines that stretched to the coast and beyond. “Big one blowing in,” Justin said. “Category one already. Might get stronger. I moved the boat south onto the river and took down the sails.”
Marty nodded. “Good idea, the way it’s blowin’.” They’d talked about the approaching hurricane earlier in the visit, but Marty had already forgotten. “You workin?”
“I’m heading over to HQ tonight.”
“Gonna be a rough one.”
“I’ll be fine. I have no intention of falling again.” Saying the words made his gut clench.
“You fell? When was that?”
Right. Marty wouldn’t remember. “A week ago. I’m fine, though.” He grinned. “See?”
“Remember when we pulled into Mumbai ahead of that monsoon?” Marty smiled wistfully and stared straight ahead, as though he could see the swirling clouds off the bow of the ship and feel the wind on his face.
“I do.” They’d barely made it out before the storm had hit, and it had been a rough ride back to Hong Kong. A good portion of their seasoned crew had spent that trip seasick and vomiting in the storm’s wake.
“Operations told me we wouldn’t make it in time,” Marty said with obvious pride. “But our crew got it done. Finished loading with an hour to spare before they closed the port.”
“I remember it well. Cook made a seafood stew. There was so much left over we were eating it for days.”
Marty patted his stomach. “They say a cast-iron gut is somethin’ you’re born with. Guess they’re right.”
Justin laughed. Talking about his time aboard the OOCL Bright Seas made him realize how much he’d missed the camaraderie. The crew had been the first family he’d really had. They’d taken care of each other. Cared what happened to each other.
“You miss it.” Marty looked up at Justin.
“Sometimes I do.”
“You don’t make enough time for what you’ve got now,” Marty chastised. “It don’t have to be any different, you know.”
“Maybe.” He’d kept his distance at work because it was easier. He’d been quick to realize Reed was lonely, but he tried not to think about himself in the same way. Knowing Reed would leave eventually made him wonder how he’d go back to being alone again. And after last night, he knew he needed to make connections with someone other than Kerry and the boys or he’d be miserable when Reed left. Maybe she was right and the guys at work would surprise him.
“You workin’?” Marty asked again.
“Yes,” he replied. “I am.”
“Don’t doubt yourself.” Marty spoke with conviction, as though he’d sensed Justin’s fear. Marty had always understood him, even when he hadn’t understood himself.
“Sometimes it’s hard,” he admitted.
“Isn’t that part of why you do it?” Marty looked up at him, his expression serious. “Some people need to prove to themselves over and over that they’re good enough. Don’t matter if they are.”
“You’re probably right.” The echo of his past always seemed to nip at his heels, no matter how much he succeeded.
“You’re more than good enough. You’ve made me prouder than you’ll ever know. I love my boy Christopher. But you’re as much my son as he is.” Marty’s eyes got watery, and he wiped them with his hand. “You’ll never know how proud.”
Justin’s throat constricted. “I’d never have made it this far without you, Captain. Never.”
“You’re wrong about that. But I’ll take the sentiment anyhow.”
“Ready to go back inside?” Justin knew if the conversation continued like this, he’d totally lose his composure.
“I’m ready. Sure is blowing out here. There a storm comin’?”
JUSTIN HELD on to the railing, but it kept slipping through his fingers. All around him, angry waves rose as high as the ship’s bow. The wind screamed and the boat pitched again, nearly tossing him over the side. Below, the inky seas roiled and hissed like a cauldron filled with scalding-hot liquid.
“You good?” For a split second, Justin wondered if he should push the issue and call the transfer off. But he was only here as a deckhand. Scott was the pilot, and it was his call.
Scott smiled back at him. “I’m good. Piece of cake.”
Kerry waved at him from inside the pilot boat. He wondered vaguely why she was here. Hadn’t Ben Lister been the one to drive them out to the transfer station?
Justin shivered and looked around again. Ahead, the tanker loomed like a dark cloud on the horizon, threatening and bleak. The boat rode up and down with each wave, splashing him with cold spray that made his bones ache.
The pilot boat pulled next to the ship a moment later, so fast Justin barely had time to prepare himself. Above, a small doorway in the side illuminated, and someone called down to him. He couldn’t make out the person’s face, but it sounded like Reed.
“Reed? You’re not supposed to be here. It’s not safe, it’s not—”
“I’m waiting. You promised we’d do this together, remember?” Reed tossed down the ladder. It was slick with rain, and the rope was fraying.
“You go first.” Scott was back again.
“I don’t want to.” The ladder looked dangerous. The inky seas reached out from between the boats, waiting to pull him under. “It’s not right. If I go now, I’ll fall.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll go first.” Scott stepped up to the bow and sighted the ladder. “It’s easy. Just step out and you’re there.”
“I don’t think this is a good idea.”
“It’s fine. See?” Scott stepped out and for a moment was suspended in the air. Then the sea caught him and wrapped itself around him with its black tentacles.
Justin shouted, “No! Give him back!”
“I’m waiting for you.” Reed beckoned him to come. But Scott was gone, and they needed to go after him or he’d drown. “Not yet. I can’t. If we do go after him, he’ll never come back.”
The tanker started to pull away. “I’m waiting for you,” Reed repeated, but his voice faded amid the crashing waves and the roar of the engines.
“No. Please. Wait! I’ll be there soon, I promise, I—”
Justin sat up in bed, gasping for breath. Reed slept at his side, the soft, reassuring sound of his breaths bringing Justin back to reality. The edges of the dream faded, but his heart still pounded and his hands shook.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“IT’S FOUR in the morning. What’s up?” Reed yawned and wreathed his arms around Justin, who was seated on the front porch, watching the wind whip the trees around as the first hint of sunlight appeared over the horizon. The air was heavy and damp, and although it wasn’t raining now, the driveway shone with water and the leaves on the trees hung low.
Justin shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep anymore.”
“When are you headed to work?”
“After breakfast. I want to get the lay of the land before my shift.” He took a deep breath.
“You nervous?”
“Me?”
Reed wrapped his arms around Justin’s shoulders and kissed his neck. “No one here but us.”
“I guess. Yes.” The dream still lingered at the periphery of his thoughts.
“Anything I can do?” Reed asked.
“I don’t know.” He felt lost. Empty.
“Your hands are shaking.” Reed kissed him again.
“Yep.” He was glad Reed was there. The thought of facing this alone frightened him more than he could express.
“Come inside? I’ll make you some tea.” Reed brushed his cheek. “We can talk, if you’d like.”
“Sure.” He wanted to talk, but it scared him too. He felt so small. Vulnerable. And if he started, could he stop?
“Hey.” Reed lifted his chin and smiled reassuringly at him. “We don’t have to talk if you don’t want. But let me get you some tea. It’ll make you feel better. Promise.”
“Thanks.”
Ten minutes later, as he settled onto the living room couch with a warm cup of tea between his palms and Reed at his side, the world felt normal again. Up was up and down was down, and the thought of stepping off a pilot boat in the middle of the ocean was something familiar.
“Better?” Reed asked.
“Yes. Thanks.” Justin inhaled the peppermint aroma. “I needed this.”
“I’m glad.” Reed waited patiently. He seemed to understand that this was difficult for Justin.
“I love my job.” He said it more for himself than Reed.
“I know.”
“I was fine the other day.”
“Were you?” Reed asked.
He considered this and realized he really hadn’t been fine. Had he snapped at Reed because he was like this back then too? “Why am I like this?” He didn’t want to say the word terrified, even though he was.
“Afraid?” Reed gently prompted.
“Yes. Afraid.” He sipped his tea and rubbed a finger over the lip of the mug. “My mom liked to drink tea.” He’d forgotten that about her. “She never liked coffee.” Why was he thinking about her now, of all times?
“What kind of tea?”
“I don’t know.” He tried to remember. “Something fruity.” He inhaled the steam again and imagined her face. “She died about ten years ago. I got the word when I was somewhere in the South China Sea.”
“You didn’t get to go to her funeral?”
“I was relieved I didn’t have to.” He’d felt guilty about it then. He still did. “I wasn’t sure I could handle it.”
“Seeing your dad?”
He nodded. “I was afraid I’d do something that I wouldn’t be able to stop.” He ran a hand over his mouth. He wanted to bolt, but he made himself stay put. You can do this. “Thing is, once you get bigger than they are, it’s everything you can do not to kill them. Bastards like him, I mean. Becky—my oldest sister—sent me photos. He looked pale. Thin. She emailed me about a year later, when he died.” He hadn’t gone home then either. “How much did Marty tell you?” He didn’t want to bore Reed with his crap.
“Enough. But I’d rather hear it from you, if you’re okay with that.”
Justin nodded. “I want to talk, but I….” He felt compelled to talk about it, even though he didn’t understand why. He didn’t need anyone to tell him it was all connected—his fear, his pain, his hatred for the man who’d destroyed his family. Who’d nearly destroyed him.
“I learned young that talking got you into trouble. Didn’t matter what I did, it was always wrong. And he let me know.” He fingered his right cheekbone. The break wasn’t visible, but he felt it there. Sometimes it ached when the weather was bad. A reminder that his father’s ghost still haunted him. That he wasn’t worth much. That he should be happy he wasn’t in jail or living on the streets, or—
Reed brushed a thumb over his hand. “No child deserves that,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Thanks.” Justin swallowed back his grief. Why did it hurt so much when he knew it was bullshit? He’d done well. He was successful. He was good at his job. “I can’t shake it sometimes. You know, the feeling that he was right all along? That I’m a failure and I don’t deserve this life.” These last words caught in his throat as the pain squeezed his heart with such ferocity, he could barely speak.
Reed’s eyes filled with tears, but anger burned hot in his gaze. “That’s how they control you. The bullies. They tell you you’re worthless and it makes them feel better about how shitty their lives are.”
Justin guessed that Reed had a bit of experience with pain of his own. Reed obviously understood. “I know.” He sipped his tea and allowed the emotion to recede a bit. Like the tide, ebbing and flowing. Sometimes you just had to wait for it to subside. “But sometimes I believe it.”
“Is that why you still blame yourself for what happened to Scott?” Reed asked.
For once Justin didn’t mind being pressed on this. “Probably. I know it was an accident. No one’s fault.” He’d seen the look on Kerry’s face the other day—she thought she was at fault for him hitting his head. He didn’t want anyone else to have to live with the guilt he’d lived with for the past few months. He made a mental note to talk to her again, reassure her.
“Things happen.”
Justin nodded. “Looking back, I think blaming myself made it easier.”
“How’s that?”
“Scott was someone I looked up to. Next to him, I felt like a kid who didn’t know jack. Losing him….” He sighed and tears threatened once again. “I needed a reason not to hate him for leaving me alone.
“I know what happened last week wasn’t anyone’s fault either,” Justin continued. He needed to get this off his chest before he lost his nerve. “It’s part of the job. But I… I’m scared. Terrified. I’m afraid I’ll get out there and I’ll freeze up. Or worse.” He’d never let anyone see him cry, but he didn’t try to stop the tears.
Reed took the mug from his hand and set it gently on the table, then gathered Justin into his arms. Justin sighed against Reed’s chest. He couldn’t remember ever feeling so safe.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
JUSTIN MADE it to Southport around eleven, having taken the ferry from Fort Fisher instead of driving through Wilmington. He wanted to get a feel for the water today, of all days. Already whitecaps dotted the river as the wind gusted. Points of sunshine broke through the low-hanging clouds from time to time, casting shadows on the water in a linear pattern. Passengers on the ferry whispered that the State would be suspending service soon.
Justin walked into HQ to the familiar cacophony of the marine forecast, VHF radio, and a TV tuned to the Weather Channel with a map of the eastern seaboard and the projected path of Hurricane Florence.
Ed waved at Justin and turned back to his computer screen. “Right on time. We’ve got a ship about thirty nautical miles out. Kerry should be here in about fifteen.” Ed glanced away from the screen momentarily, and a flicker of worry crossed his face.
“No problem. I’ll check in and get ready to move out.” Justin smiled reassuringly and knocked on Greg’s door.
“Come in.”
“Hey, boss man.”
Greg gestured him inside. “How’re you doing?”
Justin shrugged. “Fine. Ready to go.” He knew where this was going. The last thing he wanted was for anyone to worry about him being able to do his job.
“Sit.” Greg pointed to the chair in front of his desk.
Justin did as he was told. “What’s up?”
“I know you went out the other day, but the water was pretty calm. How’re you feelin’ today? Really?” Greg asked.
“Good. Really good.”
Greg frowned and raised an eyebrow in reply.
“Really, I’m fine. Better than.”
“You sure?”
“You mean am I sure I can do this? Because the answer is yes.” He paused a moment, then decided to be entirely truthful. “If you mean am I scared? Then the answer would be yep. I am.”
“And?”
“And I’d be a damn fool if I wasn’t a little scared every time I reached for that ladder or jumped onto deck.” He inhaled and held his breath, then released it slowly. Some of the tension in his belly eased. “And if I get out there and it’s too rough, I’ll say so.” He had no intention of ending up in the water, or worse.
“Good.” Greg smiled. “’Cause if you’d bullshitted me, I’d have sent you home.”
Justin laughed. “Glad I passed the test.”
“You should be.”
