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“Which part?” Monty crosses his arms.
“All of it.”
“You have a lot to learn, kid.”
“Call me a kid one more time.” I lean into his space, bridging the gap with a seething exhale. “Go on, Uncle Monty. I dare you.”
“Enough.” Kody shoves my shoulder, breaking us apart. “Save it for the punching bag.”
I step back, letting the chill of the early April morning cool my temper.
“She’s stubborn.” Monty watches her through the window, tracking her movements across the bridge deck. “Her career has always been a point of contention. It’s a battle I lost when we married and one I certainly won’t win now.”
We drift into silence as the yacht cuts through the glass-like water. The engines hum beneath my feet, a distant, powerful purr reverberating through my bloodstream.
Monty stands at the helm, a stoic thorn of power in my side. I want to hate him more than I do.
His calculating blue eyes, the same shade as Wolf’s but older, scan the horizon with the intensity of a predator. It’s a look I’ve grown accustomed to, the trait of a man who’s always alert, always hunting.
The more time I spend with him, the more I notice our family resemblances. Like the exaggerated squareness of his jaw, especially when he’s clenching it all to hell.
“Holy shit.” His head jerks up, and he points. “Look.”
I follow the line of his finger, searching the water. At first, I see nothing but calm, undulating waves.
Then something moves. A fin slices through the surface, sleek and dark against the shimmering sea. Another follows, then another, until a group of massive, sleek-bodied creatures emerges in slow, majestic succession.
“Whales?” I breathe, blinking, not believing what I’m seeing.
“A whole damn pod of them.” Monty kills the engine and darts to the starboard deck for a better view.
A few feet away, Frankie leans over the railing, smiling with a hand on her chest.
I smile with her, gobsmacked.
Their giant bodies move with an elegance that defies their size, gliding through the water like titans of the deep. Low, rumbling moans vibrate through the hull, accompanied by melodic, otherworldly calls, each note rising and falling with lyrical grace.
Kody’s wide eyes meet mine, and I feel it. The energy in the air. The music of life.
We’re no longer surviving.
We’re living.
He steps out to join her at the taffrail, his broody expression gone, revealing the boy I haven’t seen for twenty years. The boy before the trauma and abuse, who was so easily captivated by the raw beauty of nature.
My chest swells with a swarm of feelings I can scarcely name.
I don’t know how common a whale sighting is, but this feels like a gift, a glimpse into a world we were denied.
The beasts circle the yacht, exhaling with powerful whooshes that send plumes of mist into the air. The forceful sounds punctuate their softer melodies with primal power. It’s the sound of life, of strength, of creatures perfectly adapted to their watery realm.
As they return to the depths, their tails rise into the air, each one unique in pattern and shape. They arch sinuously, dark and glistening, silhouetted against the sunlight. Water cascades off the edges, sparkling like diamonds and falling into the sea with a soft splash.
When the final one dives, its fluke lingers for a moment longer, a final flourish before slipping beneath the waves. The water closes over them, leaving ripples of serenity.
I steal another glance at Kody, noting the strange upturn of his lips, the softening of his hardened features. For once, the shadows in his eyes are chased away by the simple, unadulterated joy of witnessing something so pure, so untainted by the darkness we’ve known.
Monty returns to the bridge and starts the engine, his gaze still fixed on the horizon. The peacefulness on his face smooths his skin and relaxes his features, making him appear a decade younger.
