Chapter 71: Jake
Sloane takes a step toward Reid, chin lifted, eyes sharp. “And how was I supposed to know you told her to go in?”
For once, Reid actually looks stunned. Like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. His jaw flexes, the muscle in it ticking once before he exhales a short, disbelieving laugh. “The wind was picking up, the waves were coming in. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out it’s safer inside. Even Finn and Liam got the damn memo and went in.”
“Then she should’ve gone too,” Sloane fires back. “I’m not her boss. Why the hell did she listen to me?”
“Sloane,” I say, voice low but tight. “That’s not fair. She trusts you. You’re the captain. If you said it was forbidden, she wasn’t going to question you.”
She scoffs, brushing me off with a wave. “Maybe that’s the problem—she can’t think for herself.”
That one hits harder than I expect. I feel the irritation crawl up my spine, my tone sharpening. “Then tell me what the point was. What were you trying to prove?”
She doesn’t answer right away. Her jaw tightens, eyes flickering between the two of us. “It was two minutes,” she finally mutters.
Reid lets out a low, humorless laugh. “According to both Finn and Liam, it was closer to fifteen. And you were eating a sandwich.” His voice rises. “You left her outside in the cold so you could eat a fucking sandwich with the guys.”
Sloane’s expression hardens instantly. “What the hell is your problem with Quinn?!” she snaps, taking another step toward him. “All of you—acting like she’s made of glass, wrapping her in bubble wrap, tending to her every goddamn need!”
“It’s not like that,” I cut in before Reid explodes. “We were the same way with Liam and Finn when they joined. With every new crew member. It’s called safety, Sloane. We can’t afford to lose her right now.”
But she isn’t even listening to me. Her glare is locked on Reid, searing. “Clearly she’s not fit to be on the boat anyway.” Her voice is dripping with venom now. “You said it yourself.”
Reid’s tone is a growl. “I did—before she proved she could hold her own. But she can’t fucking do that if people keep trying to sabotage her.”
“Oh, like you did?!” she snaps, voice rising.
I stand up before it escalates further, the table scraping the floor. “The point is simple,” I say sharply. “Don’t mess with the new employees—or anyone. You’re the captain. They have to be able to trust you, Sloane. Especially after the accident that just happened.”
Sloane lets out a dry, bitter laugh that twists something in my gut. I see Reid’s eyes flick darker immediately, the temperature in the room dropping ten degrees.
“Accident?” she sneers. “You mean the proof she shouldn’t be here? Two accidents in one week—what a fucking pathetic girl you hired.”
Reid’s voice hits like a gunshot. “You have no fucking say in who we hire and why. And for the record—both of those ‘accidents’ were caused by people who should’ve known better. Funny, isn’t it? The ones we thought had it handled are the ones screwing up.”
Sloane steps forward until she’s practically toe to toe with him, the height difference almost absurd, but her stare is pure challenge.
“Or maybe,” she says, voice low and sharp enough to cut, “you’re just whipped for her.”
And the room goes still.
I know Reid would never hit Sloane—he’s not that guy—but for a split second, I can see the thought flash across his face. Hell, even I want to. My fists clench at my sides, nails digging into my palms to stop myself from doing something stupid.
Reid takes a sharp step back instead, shoulders tight, jaw flexing hard enough I can hear it crack. It’s that move he does when he’s trying not to lose it—like he doesn’t trust himself not to.
“What the fuck is your problem?” he says, voice low but deadly.
Sloane scoffs, not backing down an inch. “My problem,” she fires back, “is that everyone is so fucking distracted. It makes the job harder—and living with all of them even harder.”
Her words hang heavy, loud enough that they seem to echo in the walls.
I step in before Reid explodes again, tone measured but already thinning with frustration. “What do you mean distracted? Has Madeline been causing problems at home?”
No answer. She looks away, jaw tight.
That silence—that dismissal—is what does it. My patience snaps, my heartbeat loud in my ears.
I take a few steps closer, slow and deliberate, until she’s caught between us—Reid’s fury on one side, my temper boiling on the other.
Her eyes flick between us both, but she doesn’t move. Doesn’t flinch.
Just stands there, shoulders squared, breathing steady.
And that’s when I realize—she’s not scared.
She’s angry.
And she’s about to bite back.
She tilts her head slightly, that infuriating smirk twisting at the corner of her mouth. “You’re gonna regret hiring her,” she says, voice low, venom laced through every word. “One way or another.”
Reid’s brows pull tight, his entire body tensing again, but she keeps going.
“She’s gonna mess everything up—the team, the work, the whole damn balance we’ve built. And when it happens, when this perfect little setup starts falling apart, that’ll be on you.”
My jaw locks. “What the hell does that mean?”
Sloane laughs under her breath, a dark, humorless sound. “It means when one of your deckhands starts fucking her and the whole team goes to shit, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
The air in the room shifts again, sharp and electric. So this is about Finn or Liam.
Reid’s already moving before I can blink—a step forward, hands fisted, breathing hard. I go around and grab his arm on instinct, my own pulse hammering. Because she’s crossed a line that can’t be uncrossed.
Sloane doesn’t even flinch. She just stares at us, eyes cold.
And in that silence, all I can think is—
she might not be wrong about how fragile this all feels.
But fuck if I’ll ever let her be right about that.
“Get the fuck out,” Reid says, voice cold enough to freeze the air.
Sloane’s lips curve into that same infuriating smirk. “Gladly.”
She grabs her jacket from the back of the chair and heads for the door, and I swear the silence in the room hums with leftover rage. Reid’s chest is heaving, jaw locked so tight I can almost hear his teeth grinding.
But the second Sloane yanks the door open, everything shifts.
Madeline’s standing there.
Her face is a picture of shock—eyes wide, mouth slightly open, frozen mid-turn like she was just about to bolt.
“Madeline?” I say before I can stop myself.
She flinches at the sound of her name, guilt flashing across her face as she slowly turns back toward us. “I—uh—”
Sloane brushes past her on the way out, deliberately clipping her shoulder—her bad arm. Madeline gasps quietly, recoiling, her hand instinctively flying up to cradle it.
My blood spikes instantly, but before Reid can even move, I throw my arm out in front of him. His muscles are coiled, the kind of anger that could flatten someone, trembling just beneath the surface.
“Don’t,” I mutter, gripping his forearm hard enough to make sure he hears me.
Outside, Sloane slams her car door and peels off, leaving behind a silence so heavy it feels like gravity itself doubled.
Madeline still stands in the doorway, looking between us—confused, apologetic, like she’s stumbled into a nightmare she doesn’t understand.
And Reid?
He’s still breathing like he might explode if anyone says one more word.