Chapter 123: Jake
I'm still holding it in my hand, the little piece of seaglass that suddenly feels like something worth more than anything I've ever owned. The sunlight glints through it, throwing a soft, ocean-blue glow against my palm.
And she’s still talking. How that pretty mouth can speak so fast I'll never know.
Her cheeks are flushed, her eyes darting between me and Reid, her words spilling fast—too fast. “I mean, I know you guys are… you know, big guys,” she says, gesturing helplessly at us, “and you probably like cars, or beer, or, like… whatever big guys like—but I don’t really know anything about that, so I just went with what I know.”
Reid and I both blink at her.
She’s still going. “And you can totally just toss them in a drawer or something, seriously, I won’t be offended. I just—when I found out the team wasn’t giving you gifts, I felt sad. Like, you do so much for everyone, and I wanted to give you something.”
I cut in before she can talk herself in another full circle. “It’s great, Madeline. I love it.”
Reid lifts his keys out of his pocket, silent as ever, and loops the chain through the key for the Vigil.
Her face lights up instantly, her grin so bright it actually makes my chest hurt.
“Really?” she asks.
“Really,” he says.
She beams, the kind of smile that could knock the air out of a man. Then, just like that, she goes back to eating her sandwich, like she didn’t just gut us both alive with a piece of blue glass and a smile.
I shake my head, grinning despite myself. This girl.
After a moment, I ask, “When’s your birthday?”
She looks up from her sandwich. “End of summer. Early September.”
There’s a small pause before she adds softly, “I wonder if I’ll still be here by then.”
Reid frowns immediately. “What do you mean?”
She shrugs, the movement small, casual—but her eyes flick away, and that’s how I know it isn’t casual at all. “Samantha didn’t put an end date on my contract. It just says based on needs. So I don’t really know what that means. Maybe you guys won’t need me for the fall.”
Something tightens in my jaw. Based on needs.
If it’s based on my needs—on our needs—she’s never leaving this goddamn town.
Reid’s voice comes out low, firm, leaving no room for argument. “You stay until the end.”
She blinks, then smiles, soft and relieved. “Okay.”
Then the smile fades again. “Where do you guys go when the season’s over?”
I lean back on my hands, watching her. “Usually back to the city,” I say. “We work with universities and investors until the next season starts. It’s just four months off. We’re back here in March to prep the gear and the boats.”
She nods, thoughtful, her fingers playing with the hem of Reid’s hoodie like she doesn’t even notice she’s doing it. The sea breeze catches her hair, brushing strands against her cheek.
That’s when it hits me—she terrified of the end of summer, of having to go back there.
So I ask carefully, “What about you? What’ll you do?”
She looks down at her hands, twisting the fabric of the hoodie between her fingers. “I’m not sure,” she says softly.
I glance at Reid. He’s looking at her too, and I know we’re thinking the same thing.
She’s not leaving. At least not alone.
Not if we can help it.
Reid looks up at the sky—the sun already bleeding orange and gold into the horizon—and sighs. “We should go,” he says, pushing his palms into the sand to stand.
But before he can get all the way up, her hand shoots out and wraps around his forearm. “Wait—no, umm… wait…”
He freezes. I raise an eyebrow.
Madeline’s eyes dart everywhere—toward the water, the dunes, the sky—like she’s desperately searching for something, anything, to say.
Reid glances at me, already smirking. I can’t help it—he looks exasperated, but I’m biting back a laugh.
“What?” she says, frowning at both of us. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
I chuckle, leaning back on my hands. “We know, Madeline.”
Her brow furrows. “Know what?”
Reid smirks now too. “That the team probably asked you to stall us. Charlie is a bit predictable.”
Her mouth falls open, and the flush rises instantly to her cheeks. “What? No! No, not at all! It’s just that—you’re—you’re great company, and I wanted to—”
I can’t hold it anymore. I laugh, and Reid joins me.
She groans, covering her face with both hands. “I’m so bad at lying.”
“Yeah,” Reid says dryly. “That’s the lie you were trying to hold at the coffee shop too, wasn’t it?”
Her hands drop, and she squints at him, caught. “Yes.”
I grin. “How long were you supposed to stall us?”
She lets out another dramatic groan, digging her toes into the sand like she’s trying to bury herself alive. “Until seven.”
Reid and I both smirk, shaking our heads. “That leaves about an hour then,” I say, standing up and brushing the sand from my shorts.
Reid picks up her bag before she can, slinging it over his shoulder. “Come on. We’ll go to your place, change, and then we’ll head there for seven.”
She facepalms, mumbling something that sounds suspiciously like ‘I hate you both’, but she gets up anyway, brushing the sand off her legs as she joins us.
As we start walking up toward the stairs, Reid glances down at her, voice deceptively casual. “Out of curiosity… what exactly were you planning to do to keep us here for another hour?”
She looks up at him, then at me, her expression perfectly deadpan. “I was gonna force you both to help me look for a seal. All the way at the other end of the beach.”
I bark out a laugh. Reid actually snorts.
“Creative,” he says.
“Desperate,” I add.
She rolls her eyes but there’s a small smile tugging at her lips. “You would’ve done it.”
And she’s not wrong.
We absolutely would’ve.