Chapter Text
Of course the goddamn sky would open up right as another boat came into view, racing fast right toward him. Terry had crossed his arms over his chest tight, half in frustration, half from the wet and cold, glaring outward and trying to gauge who was on the way.
Maybe Yvette had finally had success with the motor - she'd certainly been down there a long fucking time.
"Yvette!" He stamped on the floor, hoping to get her attention through the hull.
No sound in reply.
"Yvette, you OK?" At length, he got up, working his way stiffly around to the swim platform at the back of the boat, the other vessel only getting closer and closer every second. Feeling the ache in his back, he bent over, looking under the boat. He was getting too damn old for this.
"Yvette, there's another boat, I - Yvette? YVETTE?"
Fuck, had she drowned now? Was that where this day was going?
Slightly frantic, he hurried back up to the helm, fumbling to find the binoculars in the clutter from their chaotic sharp stop.
First things first, size up who you're facing down.
He put them to his eyes, tight to keep out the only-increasing rain, index finger working the focus wheel to try to keep the boat in clear view.
And there is was, emblazoned right on the side of the damn thing.
Mahone Bay Coast Guard
Damn kid, actually knew what he was doing on the radio.
"Yvette, you gotta get up here...." He turned, scanning the horizon for something, anything, any other option. It wasn't like it'd be his first time getting arrested - he knew the routine for this line of work. Shut up, ask for your lawyer, call your employer. Fred Jr. would send that stick-up-his-ass Pearce down, some cash would change hands, and he'd be out.
Hopefully.
Turning at the torso, he then scanned the beach. Sand, sand, dunes, waves, person in black trudging up out of the water, more fucking sand, seagrass.....wait.
Furious, he refocused the binoculars on that oddity in the middle of the beach, squinting into the eyepiece in frustration.
Yep. That was Yvette.
Even at a distance, she looked absolutely beat, no doubt from the long swim back. She turned around at the foot of the dunes....right where she would be able to duck out of sight at a second's notice.
The rage boiling in Terry's chest felt set to bubble over as she waved once, fake-cheerful, spiteful grin visible even from here. And for the final act - as if she'd hoped he'd be looking with binoculars to catch the detail - she flipped him off with both hands as she backed away, out of sight.
Fuck this whole day.
The engine of the coast guard boat was in earshot now, louder and louder, roaring as it approached. The metallic ring of the harbormaster's voice - God, he even had a megaphone - echoed over the water.
"Unidentified craft - this is Mahone Bay Coast Guard. Place your hands on your head and cease any heading."
Grimacing in their direction - cold rain picking up even worse - Terry sighed and obediently put his hands up.
Every damn job has something to hate about it.