Heaviness pressed hard on my shoulders as I walked back to my bedroom. I had to get back to work. I had to keep moving forward. Life didn’t end because once again I made a wrong choice. No matter what, I had to survive this.
Picking up my robe, I staggered to the shower.
* * *
Mariska’s eyes flew wide when she saw me walk into the gym. “Kenny!” She ducked under the counter and ran to me, pulling me into a hug. “I rescheduled all your clients for today. You basically have the day off.”
My body was shell-shocked, but I shook my head. “I want to do something. Call somebody and tell them to come in.”
She stepped back, still holding my hands. “I’d love for you to train me. Tell me what you want to do. I’ll do whatever you want.”
“I don’t know. I only know I can’t...” The idea of stepping into that boxing room made my stomach lurch. “Please let... him know he can take over my old boxing routine.”
“Oh!” She blinked quickly. “You don’t know?”
As much as I hated it, my heart beat faster. “Know what?”
“He’s gone. He asked Rook to help him get on with the freighter crew. They pulled out last night headed across the Atlantic. Rook said they wouldn’t be back for months. If at all.” She chewed her lip, watching my face. “I’m so sorry, I should’ve told you sooner.”
“He left on the freighter?” Nothing made sense anymore. “But he can’t swim.”
“You could’ve knocked me over with a feather, too. Remember at my house? The coffee?”
But I was struggling with a different memory. Ripples of pain clutched my chest as images of our last night together filled my mind. I’d hit him with my fists, but I’d destroyed him with my words. He would never come back. Not after what I’d said.
What was wrong with me? He killed Blake! Where was my loyalty?
My voice was quiet. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Oh, Ken,” Mariska’s voice was broken. “How can you say that?”
“I’m going to the steam room.”
Walking away from her, I headed to the back. I’d never liked the steam room. It was dark and hot, and the steam made it difficult to breathe. I pulled the door open and went inside with all my clothes on. Sitting on the concrete bench, alone in the thick whiteness, I let the heavy, wet air flood my senses.
Inhaling a deep breath, I wondered how it didn’t drown me. I put my elbows on my knees, looking at my palms for a moment—at the little black heart clear as a bell in my hand. Then I put them flat against my eyes, trying with everything in me to hold on, to take one more breath, not to fall apart.
One more inhale of suspended water—please smother the pain in my chest. I fought against the sob trying to fold me in half.
No matter what I told myself, it wasn’t going to work. I’d never forget him. Still, I had to learn to live without him. Just like before, I didn’t have a choice.
Chapter 29: “If I lie in the depths of the sea, you are there.”
Slayde
Climbing the gangway of the Sea Empress was a lot like entering the gates of East Jersey State Prison. Only, back then I was filled with rage. Today it was only emptiness and pain.
When the men said they were heading out, this ship was the only way I could think to try and escape it. Twenty-six crewmembers were onboard a 600-foot vessel, transporting 4,500 containers. Basically, it looked like an enormous aircraft carrier holding the stacked backs of hundreds of semi-trucks. It was also considered small by merchant-ship standards.
I stood on the deck as we put out, watching the waves below. Captain McKinney held a pipe in his teeth as he spoke. “An oil tanker sank in the Bay of Biscay on our last voyage.”
A Danish captain, he was the man who traded free gym memberships for miscellaneous furniture and electronics deliveries. He would apparently ship humans as well when he needed backup crew.
McKinney had been making this journey for almost thirty years, and based on his reputation, my parole officer allowed me contract-worker status and provisional papers for the voyage to Hamburg and back under McKinney’s direct supervision.
I had no idea what all was onboard the Sea Empress, and I didn’t know what the hell I was doing. I couldn’t swim. I didn’t care if I died, but I hadn’t gone into those details with the captain. I’d only said it was my first time on a boat.
Listening to his story now, with three thousand miles of ocean ahead of us, it seemed like an appropriate sentence for me. “What happened?”