Page 67 of Take Me Away

I take the wheel again, but something’s changed.

I’m not focused on the sea anymore.

I’m thinking about a kiss in a kitchen that shouldn’t have happened, but that in the moment felt damn right.

The sea claws at the hull all the way back.

Even with the rescued men on board and the worst of the swell behind us, I can’t shake the storm from my gut. It’s in my hands, clenched white around the wheel. In my head, full of echoes I can’t outrun.

Isla Quinn, in her gran’s dated kitchen. The way her lips looked kissed.

And now she’s in my thoughts when they should be on barometric pressure, fuel gauges, tide lines.

Jude doesn’t speak for a while. But I can feel it, the weight of what he’s holding back like ballast on the deck.

‘You’re quieter than usual,’ I say, just to break the tension.

‘Just wondering if I need to drive this thing next time you decide to steer like a pissed-up rookie,’ he mutters, not looking at me.

I grit my teeth and say nothing.

The harbour lights grow closer. By the time we hit the outer breakwater, I’m back in control – barely. We dock without incident. Bill and two medics are waiting in high-vis coats to take the rescued men. One has a broken wrist, the others are soaked and shivering but upright.

Cal jumps to help. Jude handles the comms.

I stay by the wheel, soaked through, jaw clenched so tight my teeth ache.

Only when the fishermen are safely offloaded and the crew disperses do I let myself exhale.

And that’s when Jude turns on me.

We’re the last ones left on the dock. Rain slashes down in sheets, soaking us both to the bone. The storm still hangs heavy in the sky, a slow rumble building inland like it’s not quite done with us yet.

Jude stands a few feet away, arms crossed, soaked to the skin, eyes blazing.

‘Why can’t you just admit it?’ he says.

I blink rain from my lashes. ‘Admit what?’

‘That Isla Quinn coming back has turned you upside-down. A bit like our fucking boat out there.’

I let out a short, humourless laugh. ‘This again?’

‘Yeah. This again.’

‘It’s got nothing to do with her.’

‘Bullshit.’ Jude steps closer, water dripping from his jacket. ‘You’ve been off since the second she showed up. You froze on the deck. You second-guessed a line you’ve never second-guessed in ten years. You nearly took us too close to the breakers. If I hadn’t called you out⁠—’

‘I was tired,’ I snap. ‘It’s a storm, Jude. Not every wave means I’ve lost my mind.’

‘No,’ he growls. ‘But you’ve lost your focus. And last time that happened, I ended up with a titanium screw in my leg and three months of physio.’ He doesn’t shout it. He doesn’t have to. The words hit like a flare – hot, bright, undeniable.

‘Do not,’ I say, voice low and shaking, ‘put Isla Quinn coming back in the same breath as Jess dying.’

‘Why not? It’s the same storm in your head, Kit. You shut down, you go blank, and the rest of us get caught in the wreckage.’

I advance on him, fury bubbling just beneath my skin.