Chapter 176: Reid
Sloane and I finish checking the Vigil and the backup vessel. Some dock lines snapped, a few fenders knocked out of place, but nothing serious. We're lucky. Some of the other boats down the dock aren’t. You can hear the shouting clear from here—someone yelling about a flooded hull, another guy pissed about a shredded sail. I don't blame them, but at least for once, it’s not our gear falling apart.
I’m just wrapping the last line when I hear Sloane curse behind me.
“What now?” I ask, turning.
She doesn’t answer. Just stares toward the beach, jaw clenched.
I follow her gaze, and my stomach tenses when I see them.
Finn and Madeline. Crouched near the rocks, looking down at something. He's holding a couple bags, and she’s smiling faintly at whatever she’s seeing.
Then Finn stands, drops the bags, and pulls her into a hug.
It’s fast, tight. Nothing inappropriate. Nothing I should give a shit about.
But I do.
There’s this thing in me—I don’t even try to lie about it anymore. It coils in my gut and drags its nails down my spine every time I see someone else touch her. Especially a guy.
Especially Finn.
Jake and I—hell, we know. We know what she wants, how she looks at us, how she melts under our hands. Last night left no room for doubt. She's ours.
But still. Seeing her like that with someone else, even just a hug, it’s a sharp, unwelcome feeling in my chest. Not because I don’t trust her. But because I do, and it makes me want to protect her even more.
Sloane, though—she’s practically vibrating with rage.
“Jesus,” I mutter. “He hugged her. Calm down.”
“Don’t,” she snaps, whipping her glare on me. “You don’t get it.”
“Then make me,” I say, crossing my arms.
She scoffs, looking away. “You wouldn’t understand.”
I sigh and wipe my hands on a rag. “What Charlie said—was it true?”
She doesn’t turn. “What the hell are you talking about?”
I lean against the boat. Calm. Even. Watching her spiral. “You. Finn. The whole storm of attitude you’ve been throwing at Madeline since day one.”
“Don’t go there.”
I do. “Do you like him or not?”
She turns now. Glaring. “You think this is about that?”
I hold her stare. “I don’t care if it is. You want something from Finn, that’s your business. But you don’t get to punish Madeline because you won’t deal with it.”
She laughs — bitter, ugly. “You’re fast to jump to her defense.”
“Because someone has to. And she’s not the one acting like a damn high schooler.”
“She’s not innocent.”
I raise a brow. “Didn’t say she was.”
“She’s not who she says she is.”
I pause. Cold creeps in. “Come again?”
“I have a source.” Her voice is steady, but her hands are clenched at her sides. “Someone who knew her in the city. Told me what she did.”
“And what was that?” I’m still calm. Dangerous-calm.
“She lied. She hurt people. Stole. Got caught up in some really bad shit and ran away when it turned on her.”
I laugh. Just once. “That’s a hell of a story.”
“I’m serious, Reid.”
“So am I.” I push off the boat. Take one step toward her. “You got proof? Show me. Until then, shut the fuck up.”
Her eyes widen. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me. You got something real, bring it to me. But don’t stand here spitting hearsay because you’re pissed a guy didn’t like you back.”
Her mouth drops open. Then closes. Rage simmering behind her eyes.
“You don’t know what she’s capable of.”
“Don’t care. Because what I do know is you’ve been gunning for her since day one. Finn’s a grown-ass man. If you’ve got a problem with him, say it. But leave her out of it.”
“She’s playing you.”
“If she is, she’s doing a damn good job. Now back off, Sloane. You’ve done enough.”
Her voice shakes. “When I prove it—”
“Then we’ll talk.” I step past her. “Until then? Stay in your lane.”
She stands frozen on the dock, fists tight at her sides.
But I don’t look back.
Because if she really has something?
She’ll bring it.
And if she doesn’t?
Then this ends now.
Because I won’t let anyone tear Madeline apart piece by piece while she’s finally starting to breathe again.
Not even Sloane.
I step around her, but her voice cuts through the rain.
“You’re gonna feel stupid when the truth comes out.”
I stop. Slowly turn back to her. The wind pushes her hair across her face, her fists still clenched. But it’s not anger in her eyes now — not really. It’s something uglier.
Jealousy.
Bitterness.
“I’m not interested in your warnings,” I say. Calm. Controlled. “You want to spend your energy digging into someone who’s already on the floor, that’s on you. But don’t you dare pretend you’re doing it for anyone else but yourself.”
She scoffs. “You don’t know shit about me.”
“You’re right. It's getting painfully clear that I don’t. And I’m starting to be really fucking grateful for that. This is a workplace, Sloane. One where we're accountable for each other's safety. Get your shit together.”
Her mouth opens. Closes. She looks like she wants to scream.
Then she throws her arms in the air and turns on her heel.
“Whatever,” she mutters, storming off across the dock. “You’ll see.”
I watch her go. Her boots slap against the wood, fast and angry, and then she’s gone.
I breathe in. Once. Deep.
Then I look back out toward the beach.
Finn’s picking up the groceries again. Madeline’s laughing at something.
And I just feel... tired.
Tired of people like Sloane trying to twist everything into something else.
Madeline has enough to carry. She doesn’t need this shit.
And if I have to be the one who keeps it from hitting her again?
So be it.
She won’t face it alone.
Not ever again.