Chapter 157: Reid
It’s a shitshow.
The kind where your adrenaline hums like a live wire and every second you spend trying to breathe feels like a luxury you can’t afford.
Jake’s at the wheel, bone-dry and tense as steel. His knuckles are white on the throttle, eyes flicking between the horizon and the radar like he can will the storm into behaving. He hasn’t left the wheelhouse once—not even to blink. The only reason we’re still upright is because he’s manhandling this boat like it owes him something.
Liam’s just behind me, grunting as he peels off a waterlogged jacket. “Think I pulled something down there,” he mutters. His shirt is clinging to his ribs, and he’s limping just slightly. I glance at him, then down at myself.
I’m soaked. Drenched so deep the water’s made a home in my bones.
But I don’t give a damn about that.
Because I saw her get hit.
Madeline.
That wave slammed into her like it was aiming to hurt. I was yards away—close enough to see it break over her, but too far to reach her in time.
She disappeared for a second, swallowed by it.
And my heart flatlined.
By the time I got to her, her hands were scrambling against the deck and her lips were parted in a silent gasp. The second she started to push herself up, I wrapped my arms around her and took the next one for her. Full force. Back to the wind, body locked around hers like a wall.
The impact was brutal. Cold like a thousand needles, sharp enough to steal the breath from my lungs. It stung, hard.
But it was nothing—absolutely fucking nothing—compared to the idea of her getting hit again.
Her face was turned up to mine. Her eyes, wide and wild, that deep green I can never stop looking at, locked with mine like she didn’t know whether to cry or kiss me.
She didn’t speak, but her entire body shook in my arms.
So I held her tighter. My hand at her back, my chest to her front, my mouth right beside her ear. Every second since, I’ve kept a part of me on her. A grip. A brush of my fingers. A palm at her waist. I just need to feel her. Need to know she’s still warm and breathing.
She’s trembling, even now, tucked close beside me. I’ve barely blinked since getting her in here.
Liam’s wiry but experienced. He almost toppled twice down there, but he knows how to brace, how to fall. Madeline? She doesn’t. She doesn’t know what her center of gravity is on a rolling deck. She doesn’t know when to duck, or when to let go. And it’s not her fault — she wasn’t trained for this. But it sure as hell makes my stomach churn every time the boat lists.
All it would take is one bad hit.
One slip. One rogue swell.
And she’s overboard.
She’s not weak. She’s just not safe. Not out there. Not without me.
So yeah, I’m not letting go. Not until I know we’re back at the harbor. Not until she’s on dry land and safe and warm and far, far away from this goddamn storm.
We’re halfway to the harbor when I hear two gasps in sync.
Jake’s voice is the first to break. “Shit.”
Madeline points. “Oh my God.”
I follow her hand—and sure enough, there’s a sailboat maybe two hundred meters off. And it’s suffering. Listing heavily to one side, the mast sagging, the sail shredded and whipping around like it’s being strangled.
Liam’s already moving. “We have to help them.” He’s pulling on another dry shirt, hauling his boots back on.
Jake spins around and barks, “Reid, take the wheel.”
I grab it immediately, fingers sliding into place like second nature. “On it.”
Jake doesn’t wait. He’s out the door, heading toward the deck with Liam right behind him.
And then—she moves.
Madeline shifts to follow them, reaching for her jacket like she’s about to go help too.
My voice cuts through the space before she takes a single step.
“Madeline. You’re not going anywhere.”
She stops. Mid-motion. Eyes wide like I’ve cracked a whip.
“But—” she starts, her voice too soft. “What if they need extra hands?”
I shake my head. “If they do, we’ll figure it out.”
Her lips part again, about to argue. She doesn’t get the chance.
"I’m not risking a single hair on your head for someone else’s life.”
She blinks. Her throat moves like she’s swallowing something thick.
Her face is still pale, the corners of her lips trembling, but the second she sees my expression—everything in her stills.
Because I mean every word.
If someone’s out there drowning, we’ll do what we can. But not her.
I won’t even entertain the idea of putting her in harm’s way. Not when I just felt her bones tremble under my hands. Not when I just watched a wave try to take her from me.
Her life isn’t some coin I’m going to flip in a storm.
Her life is mine to protect.
And I’ll tear the ocean apart before I lose her to it.
She doesn’t argue again. Not out loud.
But her hands twist the hem of her soaked shirt, and her eyes don’t leave the door Jake just disappeared through. Her breath’s coming faster, not loud, but sharp—like her lungs forgot how to exhale properly.
I see the second it hits her—that Jake is out there, on a boat that’s rocking like it’s two seconds from tipping, trying to pull some stranger to safety.
And just like that, her panic shifts. Not for herself. For him.
She presses closer to the window, palms flat on the glass as she peers down through the downpour. “Oh God,” she whispers. “He’s on the edge.”
I wrap an arm around her waist, pulling her back gently but firmly. “Madeline,” I say, voice low but solid. “He’s okay.”
“You don’t know that,” she says immediately, her voice cracking like the thunder outside. “He—he’s on the edge and the boat’s shaking and—what if—?”
I step in front of her, blocking her view just enough to make her look at me. “Jake’s been doing this since he was twelve. He’s not reckless. He won’t slip.”
“But he could—”
“He won’t.”
I say it like it’s a command to the ocean itself.
A crash echoes outside—a loud, hollow thump of something hitting the deck—and her hands shoot up to cover her mouth. She looks over my shoulder, wide-eyed and breathless, like she’s already imagining the worst.
So I turn her around, one hand on her shoulder, the other still around her waist, anchoring her to me.
“You want the truth?” I murmur near her ear, just for her. “My pulse hasn’t slowed since we saw that sailboat. I hate that he’s out there too.”
She nods slowly, not looking at me.
“But he’s strong. And fast. And he’s not alone.”
That’s when we hear it.
A second thud, this one heavier.
Madeline gasps and turns her head back toward the window. I let her. And I look, too.
Jake and Liam are there—and they’re hauling someone up over the portside railing.
The man is older. Mid-sixties maybe, gray hair plastered to his skull, face pale and drawn. One arm is looped over Jake’s shoulder, the other grasping the railing like a lifeline.
Madeline lets out a shaky breath and presses her fingers to her lips. “Oh my God. They got him.”
“Yeah,” I whisper. “They got him.”
Jake is barking something at Liam—probably instructions—while dragging the man further onto the deck. I can see the outline of a safety line clipped around Jake’s waist, tethered to the hull. Smart. I told you—he’s not reckless. But seeing him move like that, strong and fast and soaked to the skin, Madeline’s worry doesn’t go anywhere.
She reaches for the door.
I gently catch her wrist. “No. Stay here.”
Her eyes flash up to mine, frustrated, scared, but she nods anyway.
The wind howls outside again and a wave smashes against the hull, making the Vigil groan beneath our feet. She grabs onto the console beside me to stay upright.
I steady her, both hands on her hips now, keeping her from going anywhere.