“Anyone who tries will answer to me,” he snapped, a feeling akin to panic racing through him that one day he’d come down here and someone would have popped it out.
Shrugging, giving the younger man a wary look, Silas muttered, “Your boat.”
Damn straight. And that dent was well-earned. If he listened hard enough, he could still hear her screaming his name as she’d come against his greedy mouth; could feel her fingers digging into his scalp. Fuck yeah, that dent was staying.
Returning topside with the agility of a monkey, Silas ordered, “Let’s get going. If you’ve got her anchored, raise it.”
Mac scratched his head. “How do I know if it’s anchored?”
“Green as a newborn pup.” Silas eyed him with a mix of trepidation and irritation.
Silas then started instructing Mac on how to manage his boat. He didn’t do any of it himself, just barked orders from the co-captain’s seat. Not that Mac minded; he needed to learn.
Eventually, they left the dock. Silas talked Mac through pushing away, then how to navigate the lake. “It’s not all about doing whatever the hell ya want. Ya gotta look out for everyone else.”
Mac listened, learned, and absorbed. Silas directed; Mac followed. He was a soldier, after all, accustomed to taking instruction from authority. And in this, Silas was a definite leader.
Feeling a weight lift as they sped over the waters, Mac flashed a smile at Silas and asked, “Do I look as good as Day doing this?”
Silas scoffed. “You do realize you don’t need to stand; this is a powerboat. The seats are here for a reason.”
Mac frowned in irritation, causing Silas to bust out in a belly laugh.
“You look fine, son. Nowhere as pretty, though.”
Mac agreed; the woman was stunning.
“What’s the name mean?” Silas asked over the sound of the wind and the motor. “I know the Spanish word forday, but what’s the other?”
Mac dropped the throttle, slowing the boat to reduce the whine of the wind before he answered, “Dreamer.”
Silas surveyed the lake before asking, “Dreamer of Day? Day Dreamer?”
Mac wouldn’t look at him, scanning the water.
“Does she know you named this boat for her?”
Mac shrugged. “It’s just a name for a boat.”
“Bullshit,” Silas muttered, but let the subject drop, turning his face back toward the lake.
They bobbed in the water in awkward silence for a moment afterward; then Mac said quietly, “I do have something she needs.”
That roused a wry chuckle out of Silas. “As fancy as your Johnson is, I don’t think she’s too interested right now.”
Mac’s eyes narrowed. “Not what I’m talking about.”
“Son, I told you before, Sid’s in a world of hurt. Now isn’t the time for games.”
“Not interested in games.”
“What do you want?”
Mac glanced at Silas. “I want her to talk to me.”
Hewantedto hold her, tell her how sorry he was for what he’d done to her. He needed to talk about Fred. He wanted to know what the hell had happened.
He wanted her to forgive him. He needed it.