Unfamiliar Waters

by Andrew Grey

  “Yes and no,” Garrett answered, but he wasn’t going to elaborate. There were other ears too close for that kind of conversation. “Now, please go to sleep. You’re going to need your rest.” Hell, he needed a cold shower and maybe a block of ice to put on his dick. That seemed about the only thing that was going to cool his desire at this point.

  Garrett rolled over onto his belly, shutting his eyes and trying like hell to think of unsexy things, like murder, guts, gore, or how people could be cruel to one another. And it was working until Nigel gently patted his butt and left his hand there. Garrett wanted to groan out loud, but he buried his face in his pillow and tried his best just to take his mind off all of it and go to sleep.

  Whenever he really just wanted to sleep, he couldn’t. His mind refused to turn off, and with walking, talking, breathing hotness lying next to him, it was impossible. Maybe he should have had Jules sleep up here and he could have crammed himself onto the bench seat. At least folding himself into a pretzel would be preferable to this torture of denial.

  Nigel’s hand slipped away, and he rolled over. Now Garrett could breathe somewhat again, and slowly his mind settled and he dozed off, the first time of many that night.

  He woke to soft voices from the dock. Peering around the curtain, he found Phyllis’s and Jules’s beds empty and the cabin door closed.

  “They’re gone,” Nigel breathed, sliding his hand down Garrett’s belly and into his boxers.

  Garrett swallowed the cry that threatened to erupt from his suddenly very awake and interested body. He pushed the bedding down and then turned around. Damn, he had great ideas, and as Nigel’s lips slipped over him, Garrett guided Nigel’s cock between his, swallowing him in a gulp, taking all of him in a haze of desire that was not going to last very long. He thrust his hips, and Nigel did the same. Garrett feasted on Nigel’s flavor, taking and remembering this moment, stowing it away like one of the other precious ones so he had it when times got miserable again.

  He cupped Nigel’s firm butt, kneading the globes, teasing his opening with his finger, Nigel’s legs shaking almost as much as his own. The days of denial and anticipation left him way too close to the edge, but with their limited time, that wasn’t bad. Even though Garrett would have loved to be able to take hours together, like in the cave, that wasn’t possible right now.

  Nigel took him deep, sending a ripple of heat and near-control-ripping pleasure swirling through him like a tropical storm. He had so much energy and wasn’t afraid to share it, and that was a huge turn-on, so much so that Garrett was already losing what little hold he had on himself. Nigel thrust, sliding his cock over Garrett’s tongue, and then stilled, quivering as release racked his body. Garrett swallowed and tumbled into his own passion, holding his breath to keep from groaning out loud.

  Neither of them moved, Garrett unable to and Nigel flat on top of him. He did his best to hide his panting, and eventually Nigel slipped onto the bedding, sitting up partially with a wide grin on his face that said more than a million words could possibly have.

  Naughty teenagers. That was the only phrase that came to mind about what they’d done, and why did that turn him on like nothing else? It had been some years since he’d been a teenager, and Nigel had never been one in the conventional sense, so maybe this was due him. Hell, Garrett was thrilled to be part of it.

  “Are they up?” Jules asked more loudly than necessary from outside, and Garrett sighed, reaching for his clothes to start dressing.

  Nigel pulled on his boxers. Somehow he’d shucked them without Garrett knowing it at the time. Another talent that had definitely come in handy.

  Garrett grabbed his bag of clothes and shuffled through it. “I think we’ll need to do laundry in port.” He was running out of clean clothes, and Nigel seemed to be as well. Those words covered the way he gazed into Nigel’s eyes, pulling him closer for a deep kiss. “You were amazing,” he whispered into his ear as Nigel shuddered against him. “Gather up your things and we’ll get going as soon as we eat.” He finished dressing and went out on deck, stretching in the morning sun and steady breeze.

  “Morning,” Jules said.

  Garrett returned the greeting, not really in a mood to talk much. Being alone with his thoughts meant he could be with Nigel when he couldn’t be there physically. “I’d like to get underway soon. That way we can hit St. Kitts for lunch, maybe find somewhere to eat, get some laundry done, and I can make some phone calls.” His main hope was that they had gotten away from Hilliard’s men long enough to call for help and reinforcements.

  “Then I’ll get busy.”

  “Thanks, Phyllis. Make something quick, and I’m going to get things ready here.” He checked the lines and the jib to ensure it had come through yesterday’s ordeal in one piece. Then he got everything rolled and stowed properly, started the engine, and pulled up the anchor. He took his place at the wheel.

  He was steering them away from the island when Phyllis brought him some bread, jam, and cheese. He ate as they motored, and once he was finished, shut it down, pulled up the mainsail, and got them underway.

  IT WAS a gorgeous day for sailing—the sun, the water, a steady breeze. By eleven or so, they spotted land, and by noon Garrett was on the radio arranging for a slip. A little while later, after checking with the harbormaster, they were docked and cleared to go ashore. Garrett called his boss right away and brought him up to date.

  “Hilliard has very powerful friends, and he’s already put out charges of kidnapping,” the captain warned.

  “We can put that to bed. I have a signed statement from one of the caregivers, as well as a statement from Nigel. They include the details on the attempt to try to kill them, and the attack on our boat as we tried to get away. I’m going to send them over.” He set the pages out on the table, took a photo of each one, and sent them via email. He also emailed them to himself for safekeeping. “You can see they were all witnessed properly. He may try, but four of us can attest that the statements were properly given.”

  “Perfect.” Garrett could almost hear the smile on the captain’s face. “I’m going to send these over to a contact at the DOJ. They have been after this guy for a while. His business practices have skirted the law for some time. This may be enough to get him charged, but we’re going to need each of them to testify in order to make this stick.”

  “I know.” Garrett was relieved when the last image sent. Then he gathered up the pages and slipped them back into the plastic bags, sealed them inside another, and hid them deep in the boat. “The statements have been double sealed, so even if we sink, they should survive.” He went on to describe the earlier attack.

  The captain laughed hard. “You flare-gunned them? Damn, I would love to have seen that.”

  “I had the guns I got on the island, but I needed to incapacitate the boat so they wouldn’t follow. That seemed like the best way. I honestly don’t know what happened to them. They might have caught fire and gone down for all I know or care.”

  “That’s harsh,” the captain said. “More like the Wreckley I know.”

  “They’ve tried to kill Jules and Nigel and then they chased us down, shot at us, and threatened both of them again. They got whatever was coming to them, and so will Hilliard.” Garrett needed to bring this to an end.

  “Yes, definitely. The Justice Department got a handle on their parents’ will, and since Nigel Montague is of age, he can claim his inheritance, as well as guardianship of his brother. That was stipulated in the will. That will strip most of Hilliard’s assets and power. But we need to get them to New York to do it. That’s where the will is registered, so that’s where they need to make their case.”

  “Okay. As I said, we’re in St. Kitts now, so hopefully we can make St. Thomas in a few days. Have you made any headway on their identification?”

  “Get them to St. Thomas. Justice will have someone there with the documents they need. The big thing is to get them there as quickly as possible, and unfortunately th
ey have to arrive by boat because there is no airport anywhere that will let them fly.”

  “We’ll plan to leave soon, as long as the weather holds.” A few more days with Nigel, and then the rest of the world would intrude. Garrett had been lucky to have Nigel pretty much to himself for as long as he had. Still, he hated the idea of sharing Nigel with anyone, let alone the entire world. He actually wished he could delay the trip just to spend more time with Nigel, but that would only put them in danger, and Garrett wasn’t going to do that.

  The captain ended the call. Garrett had his marching orders.

  Garrett put his phone in his pocket and took a deep breath of sea air.

  “You done with your calls?” Nigel asked. “We want to go to town or something. I think you said we could eat here.”

  “Yes. We’ll find a restaurant and see about laundry and supplies.” Garrett glanced around. “We have to get what we need and leave as soon as we can. My captain has made arrangements, but we need to get to St. Thomas. That’s going to take us a little while longer, and the sooner we get there, the safer you are going to be.” And the closer Garrett was to heartache. “Let’s stow everything and go on into town.”

  “I put together a bag of laundry,” Phyllis said, hefting it.

  They climbed off the boat and down the floating dock to their first dry land in days. It took Garrett a while to stop feeling the rocking of the sea under him. The others seemed to have the same trouble, but they quickly got into town and the sensation faded. They found a local restaurant and went inside. The scent was a party for the nose, and the food, when it came, was stunningly good.

  “I like this,” Jules said, taking a big bite.

  “Fairfield wasn’t as good a cook as he liked to think he was,” Nigel commented. It was the first time anyone had mentioned him in a while. “I wonder if he ever got away or….” Nigel didn’t finish his thought, and Garrett figured it was probable that Fairfield wasn’t among the living.

  Chapter 10

  ST. THOMAS was in sight, just close enough to come into cell phone range. Garrett called the captain and got an immediate answer.

  “What the hell took you so long?” the captain groused. “I was expecting you there yesterday, and I’ve been wondering if you were sent on a wild goose chase through the city.”

  Garrett shook his head. What the hell? “We ran into weather and—”

  “Steve, look. I’m working right now and can’t talk. Let me call you back when I finish with this meeting.”

  The call went dead, and Garrett shoved his phone in his pocket with more force than was necessary. He held the boat in a fairly steady position, outside the entrance channel, as he waited. Nigel sat next to him with the others on deck, looking out at the collection of hills that made up the lushly green island.

  “Can we go dock now?” Jules asked, but Garrett shook his head. He wanted to wait to hear what arrangements had been made before he walked into a potential hornets’ nest. The last thing he wanted was to dock and then get thrown in jail for kidnapping, and for Nigel and Jules to end up in the hands of their uncle anyway. To pass the time, he decided to give Nigel and Jules a lesson in sailing against the wind. By skating the edge of the wind, it was possible to sail against it, though it required a zigzag pattern and a lot of tacking.

  Finally his phone buzzed. “Sorry about that. The chief was in here. There are rumors running through certain circles about Nigel and Jules—possible kidnapping, etcetera—most of them started by their uncle, I’m sure. He isn’t happy.”

  “Does he know I’m involved?” Garett swallowed. This could end his career with the force.

  “Not for certain. But I think he suspects. You were supposed to be on vacation and out of the spotlight… remember?” He paused as though he were giving Garrett a chance to think things over. “Justice will have a representative meet the boat. His name is Carver Milne. It’s possible that their uncle has worked out where you’re going to come in, but hopefully not when. The idea is to get them from the port, verify who they are, and take them to the airport, where a private plane will take them to New York.” The captain cleared his throat. “You’ve done an amazing job with this and done those boys a real service. Once they’re on the plane, continue with your vacation, such as it is. And I’ll see you back in Baltimore.”

  “But—”

  “I have more visitors headed my way and have to go.” He cut off the call, and Garrett damn near threw his phone into the ocean, he was so frustrated and pissed off.

  “Is it bad?” Nigel asked, and Garrett reminded himself that his frustrations weren’t Nigel’s and Jules’s and he needed to keep it under control for them.

  “It’s okay. Someone is going to meet you in St. Thomas, and they’re going to take you the rest of the way back to New York.” Garrett managed to keep his voice from breaking, but just barely. He’d known this day was coming, and now that it was here, he was tempted to turn the boat around and sail back out to sea just so he could have a few more days with Nigel.

  Nigel’s eyes narrowed to slits. “You aren’t coming with us?”

  Garrett sighed, trying to find the words to explain. “I’m supposed to be on vacation and… no one knows that you and I….” He slipped an arm around Nigel’s waist. “Things could get complicated if they found out how close we were…. No.” He wanted to go along, though, and would have thrown his mother in front of a raging bull to get to go with them. “This trip seems to be invitation-only.” The justice department did things their way.

  Nigel slid off the bench, stood a few steps away, and glared at him, hands on his hips. “You could come if you wanted to.”

  Garrett wasn’t so sure of that. “You need to go back and claim what is rightfully yours.” He reached for Nigel, but Nigel took another step back and nearly fell over a line. “There’s more than just the four of us involved now. These people will look after you and keep you safe. They’re also the people who will see to it that your uncle pays for what he tried to do to you. They can help you a lot more than I can now.” Garrett’s time in this story was coming to an end. He could feel it, the same darkness that had enveloped him after David’s death threatening to spread once again. It had been held at bay by Nigel for days, and he’d actually thought it might have been gone for good, but it was back, and growing once more. “I won’t let you go with anyone until I know you’re safe.”

  Nigel bit his lower lip, blinking and just staring. “You are so full of seagull shit, it isn’t funny.” Finally, he moved closer. “You saved Jules, and me, a ton of times. Heck, you set a boat on fire with a flare gun to keep us safe, and you’re going to be put off by this Justice guy, whatever he is?” The fire in Nigel’s eyes flared and then dimmed. “Maybe you aren’t the kind of man I thought you were.” And maybe Nigel was right.

  Garrett sighed and steered the boat into the mouth of the harbor and toward the slip where he had agreed to leave the boat at the end of his vacation. Yes, he was there much earlier than he’d intended, but it was empty. Hell, maybe after dropping off Nigel, Jules, and Phyllis, he’d get back on the boat and go wherever the wind took him for the rest of the time he had.

  He threaded through the busy harbor opening, waiting for a cruise ship to maneuver into place before searching for the slip he was supposed to use. It took a few minutes before he changed course and found what he was looking for. He turned to the others. “You all go below. I don’t know what kind of reception we’re going to get, and it’s better safe than sorry right now.”

  Nigel and Jules crossed their arms over their chests and shook their heads. Even Phyllis stood her ground.

  “We’ll face whatever fate we have to out here.” Nigel swallowed. “I’m tired of cowering.”

  “Okay.” What else could he say to that? Garrett started the trolling motor and handed the wheel over to Nigel, while he and Jules lowered the sails and secured them.

  “Do you really think it’s going to be okay?” Jules asked.


  “I hope so.” Garrett didn’t have a lot of false hope to give.

  Jules nodded. “Will we see you again?” He helped stow and secure the mainsail.

  “Count on it.” Garrett patted Jules on the shoulder. “I’ll sail with you and Nigel anytime, anywhere.” He swallowed and turned away to secure the last of the sail.

  “You really—” Jules paused and turned back to where Nigel steered the boat slowly forward. They were basically staying still, which was perfect. “You love Nigel, don’t you?”

  Garrett wasn’t going to confirm to Jules something he hadn’t told Nigel, so he patted the sail and returned to the wheel. “Let me take it from here,” he said gently, and maneuvered the boat the last way into the berth.

  Jules secured the lines as a man strode along the dock in light pants and a white shirt.

  “Mr. Wreckley,” he called, and Garrett turned, motioning Jules back onto the boat. “I’m Carver Milne from the US Justice Department. I believe you were expecting me.” He showed Garrett his identification.

  Garrett relaxed. “Yes, I am. This is Nigel and Jules Montague, and the lady is Phyllis Righton. And yes, we were expecting you.” He shook Carver’s hand and motioned him on board. “Do you have the documentation they need?”

  “Yes.” Carver opened a satchel and pulled out two sets of pages and handed them over. Garrett looked at them and then passed them to the boys. “These will allow you to get on the plane and through customs and immigration on the other side.”

  “What do we do then?” Nigel asked, his confidence slipping away and the inexperienced, though now scared, person Garrett had met on the island coming forward once again.

  “I’m going to take you to the airport, where we have a plane that’s set and ready to take all three of you back to New York,” Carver said in an official, detached tone. “From there we have people who will provide for your safety.”

  Nigel nodded. Then he looked at Garrett. “Will you come with us?”