Page 61 of Endless Depths

The line goes quiet.

“Thanks,” he whispers a few seconds later. “I’ll stay with Dad for king crab, but I want to do the rest on theBriar.”

“Happy to hear it. How are you going to tell Luke?”

“In public, from the bow of your boat as we pull away from the dock.”

I laugh. “I don’t blame you. Are you sure you don’t want to come now?”

“Yeah. LJ gets off probation at the end of the month. Dad won’t be as pissed if I leave him less shorthanded. How are things with Cole?”

“It’s been…” I sigh. “The boat isn’t big enough for the baggage we have. It’s really hard. Every time we get close to working things out, we slingshot farther apart.”

This jog up the coast has been nothing like the years before. We used to watch movies as a crew in the wheelhouse, horse around on deck, playing flag football or pranks on each other.

When you’re on the Bering Sea, your world shrinks down to the members of your crew. Everything else fades away. You have to put the troubles back home in a box. It’s too dangerous to dwell on them. But this year, without Seb, without Cole, idle hours are all I have.

“Don’t worry,” Kent says. “That dumbass will come around eventually.”

“Maybe. Let’s see where we are at by the end of the season. Hopefully, the boat will still be intact.”

Kent laughs. His voice lowers. “—Huh? Oh, sorry, Dad. I’ll keep it down.” The line goes dead.

Kent

Have to go.

Morgan

No worries. Text me anytime. Shoot up a flare or something and we’ll come pick you up.

Kent

Thanks, man.

Sunlight piercesthe wheelhouse windows and casts a glare on the water, an antithesis to the eerie darkness last night. This far north, the angle of the sun is more acute, and I’m tired of light blasting directly into my eyes.

Voices murmur from below, unrecognizable except forLawrence’s loud chatter and easy laughter. Silverware clatters, a fridge opens and closes. Bacon sizzles.

A few minutes ago, Cole emerged from his room, pulling a hoodie over his head, flashing his bare chest, blue eyes blinking blearily. He told me good morning in a voice thick with sleep, and offered to give me a break from the wheel.

I wanted to say yes. I wanted to ask him to come sit on my lap, or better yet, come put me to bed, but I told him to go eat first, and send Alejo up instead. His reflection lingered behind me at the top of the stairs for a few seconds before he sighed, then descended the steps.

Cole and I may share the same 109-foot boat, but we’re literally two ships passing. We only have to talk to each other once every twenty-four hours, and we keep it strictly business—updates about the wind direction, weather, and how heavy the seas are.

At least Cole went down to eat with the others. He usually eats at the wheel. As far as I can tell, the only time he talks to anyone is when Lawrence invades the wheelhouse, and forces him to socialize ‘so he doesn’t become a hermit like Wes.’

Alejo raps on the wood wall at the top of the stairs. “Hey, Morgan. You ready?”

“Hey.” I yawn and stretch my arm overhead.

“Go get some rest.” He rubs my shoulders.

The platonic touch is welcome. Going for so long without being touched by another person fucks with my head, and makes me miss Finn even more than I already do.

“Thanks.” I brace myself and descend the steps.

Downstairs, Javi and Lawrence are still eating breakfast. Cole’s not there. I’m relieved and disappointed.