Page 186 of At First Catch

“Cable’s giving!”

“Got it!”

I shove through rainwater toward the western edge of the marina while adrenaline and exhaustion blur together painfully beneath my skin.

The storm isn’t technically hurricane-level. But it’s close enough to remind everyone exactly why this place remains financially fragile.

One bad season.

One catastrophic storm.

Everything I rebuilt could disappear.

And suddenly the investor meeting replays in my head all over again.

Security.

Expansion.

Storm reinforcement funding.

Seventy-two hours.

The temptation feels uglier tonight.

I grab the dock line, helping Miguel secure the boat while freezing rain lashes against my face.

And underneath all the chaos, one terrible thought keeps repeating: What if loving this place isn’t enough to save it?

My phone buzzes violently in my jacket pocket. I ignore it automatically.

Another worker shouts from the fuel dock. Then another cable snaps somewhere farther down the marina.

Jesus Christ.

Everything feels one step from disaster tonight.

Hours blur together after that.

My hands go numb sometime after one thirty. I stop feeling the sting of rain against my face. Stop registering the ache in my shoulders from hauling lines and bracing against wind.

But I never stop feeling the panic. It sits beneath my ribs like a second heartbeat.

I can’t lose this place.

Not now.

Not after rebuilding it.

Not after finally understanding what home feels like.

Not after Hadley.

By the time the storm finally begins weakening sometime after three in the morning, my entire body aches from tension and cold.

The marina survived.

Barely.