Brice looked at Hunter with both eyebrows raised. They were surrounded by a multitude of instruments on the fly bridge of the big ass yacht. As far as Brice was concerned, they might as well have been on the bridge of an ocean liner.

"Does any of this make sense to you?" he asked. "We've always had a captain to run the boat."

"Sure," came the confident response from Hunter. "We just untie all the lines, crank the engines and away we go. Piece of cake." Brice snorted at hearing his own words recited back to him. Hunter smiled. "Don't worry about this. I got it. Most of this fancy shit we don't even need. So, I believe you have the keys?"

"Certainly, here you are my good sir," Brice said with a flourish and handed over the keys.

Hunter put the keys in the ignition and turned them both to the 'on' position. He pushed the start button on the starboard engine. It sprang to life with a puff of black smoke out the exhaust at the waterline on the stern. Brice grinned and clapped his hands.

"Yea! You got it started," cheered Brice.

"One more to go," Hunter explained. Brice looked at him with his mouth formed into a silent 'oh.' Hunter pushed the start button on the port engine. It also roared to life with a puff of black smoke.

"You get the bow lines and I'll get the spring line. Then we'll both get the stern lines," Hunter directed. Brice looked at him funny. Realizing Brice's lack of nautical knowledge, Hunter smiled and decided to dummy it down. "You get the ropes loose from the dock on the front. I'll pull them on board. Then meet me at the back." Brice smiled and nodded. The boys scurred off to untie the big ass yacht. Once the lines were on board, Hunter eased the bow and stern thrusters, pushing the big ass yacht away from the dock. Then he pushed the twin throttles forward gently and the yacht slowly moved forward. The sound of a helicopter powering up spurred Hunter into action. After checking the depth gauge and seeing twenty feet under the keel, he quickly pushed the throttles to the stops. The yacht responded by quickly coming up to full speed and zoomed out of the deep-water harbor out into open water, billowing black diesel exhaust as they went.

"Where should we go?" Hunter asked as he steered the yacht away from the island.

"That way," Brice said as he pointed to the left. "I have a friend who lives on an island over there." Hunter turned the wheel in the direction Brice pointed. The seventy-five foot big ass yacht sliced through the blue water at its full speed of thirty knots or almost thirty-five miles per hour. Brice and Hunter sat side by side on the comfortable bench at the steering station. Hunter looked to the west and watched as the sun was slowly heading for the horizon. Acting on instinct, he reached for the switch for the running lights, then he thought better. "Best not to give them a target," he thought. "Who am I kidding? It's a big ass yacht running wide open throwing a wake you could surf on." He flipped on the running lights and sat back on the bench and grinned at Brice.

"They're still looking for a sailboat," he said. "But it won't take long for them to figure out how we left." Brice nodded. "Hopefully, we'll be long gone before they figure it out."

As the big ass yacht raced across the calm waters, Hunter thought back on the day and could not believe where he ended up. It started lost at sea eating Dinty Moore Beef Stew with cheap wine, then he sailed into a private island, he ate lobster from fine bone China with expensive wine and ended up at the helm of a seventy-five foot mega yacht with a new friend and a bullet hole in his leg. He winced at his gunshot wound, knowing it bled a lot. The sting was still there, but thankfully the bleeding had stopped. He still couldn't believe he took a shot at the Coast Guard officer. It had been an impulsive decision with the singular goal of escape on his mind. It had been a good shot, blasting sand just a foot from the officer's boot. Hunter grinned remembering to look on the officer's face.

Brice's beautiful dark hair streamed back in the wind and Hunter was mesmerized, but the vision was clouded over by Hunter's vision of Jesse.

Glancing back at Brice's private island, ever shrinking in size the further the big ass yacht went, Hunter knew they didn't have long before the Coast Guard would determine they left on the yacht.

"We need to hide this monstrosity of a big ass yacht pretty quick," Hunter called out over the wind whistling through the flybridge.

"Just over there," Brice said as he pointed toward the island ahead. "We've had daddy's fishing boat there before. It's plenty deep." With the sun now on the horizon, the island looked like a dark shape in the water.

"Okay, but just how good of a friend do you have? I mean can we trust him not to turn us in?" Brice smiled and winked.

"Oh, he's a very good friend, if you know what I mean," Brice said as he wagged his eyebrows. Hunter smiled and wondered just what they were in for. He looked at the state-of-the-art navigation system, telling him they were just a half mile off the shore of Brice's friend's island, a good ten miles from Brice's Island. Hunter slowed the big ass yacht and prepared to dock.

* * * * *

The Coast Guard choppers took off as soon as their preflight checklist was complete. Dan directed the other chopper to the right and he piloted his chopper to the left.

Both choppers flew around the island in search of the sailboat. Dan flew over an outcropping of trees and the sailboat came into sight.

"We have the 'Stargazer' in sight," Dan radioed in from his left seat in the helicopter. "No sign of Hunter or his friend. We're headed in. ETA on the cutter?"

"Thirty minutes out," came the reply from Coast Guard headquarters.

"Tell them to come around to the south side of the island. We're about to land and see what's going on."

"T Roger, will advise the cutter."

The helicopter easily landed on the dock and armed guardsmen quickly deployed and swarmed over the 'Stargazer.' The second helicopter landed just beside Dan's chopper.

Dan exited his helicopter and headed straight for the sailboat.

"No one on board," a guardsman called out, coming from below deck as he holstered his sidearm. "There's a lot of blood in the cockpit though."

"Check the building and the surrounding area. Hunter's been shot by one of you nimrods and he may need medical attention. I want him found!" Dan yelled out. His men scattered in all directions. He turned back to the sailboat and took in the bullet holes in the cabin top and cockpit fiberglass. Several of the portholes had been shot as well. All the damage Dan saw couldn't have come from the exchange of fire in the lagoon. The 'Stargazer' must have taken fire before. That was the only explanation. The damage looked severe and was probably from an assault rifle, best Dan could tell. Then he looked down and saw a pretty large pool of blood that had been smeared with bare feet and he physically winced.

"The old man's gonna go ballistic on this," he mumbled to himself.

* * * * *

Hunter eased the big ass yacht toward the dock at Brice's friend's island. There was nobody on the dock in the dusk of the evening to help them tie up. The state-of-the-art navigation system screen showed exactly where Hunter was in relation to the dock. It was one thing to take a big yacht out of the dock, but it was completely different bringing one in. He certainly didn't want to crunch anything. Thankfully there was no wind and from what he could tell, there was no current within the harbor. Hunter nervously accessed another screen and pulled up cameras on the bow and stern.

"Brice, I need you to grab a line and help us tie up," Hunter said to his new friend.

"No problem, Capt'n," Brice said as he headed toward the aft.

Hunter suddenly remembered the countless times he'd tied up with Jesse. There had been no direction necessary, actually no discussion was necessary as Jesse knew exactly what to do. Hunter shook his head trying to clear the memory of Jesse's bright blue eyes looking at him, his bulging biceps as he pulled on a line. The curvature of his ass as he bent over the rail. Hunter shook his head again.

Hunter maneuvered the big ass yacht parallel to the dock. Then he activated the bow and stern thrusters to bring the yacht gently alongside the dock.

Brice climbed down the ladder onto the stern swim platform, then stepped onto the dock and tied a line to a cleat. Hunter ran forward and threw another line to Brice from the bow. He tied that line to a cleat as well. With the big ass yacht semi-secured to the dock, Hunter let out a huge sigh of relief and shut down both engines.

"Okay, where's your friend? I mean does he live here all the time or what?" Hunter asked as he jumped down from the ladder and onto the dock.

"He's here summers, though I've not seen him this year, but he should be here. The house is that way. Let's go see," Brice said pointing toward a beautifully landscaped walkway leading into tall perfectly manicured boxwood bushes. The boys walked up the path and coming around a corner, saw a magnificent mansion all lit up with lights.

"Wow," Hunter said in awe just as a young teen boy came racing out the front door.

"Brice! Brice!" the boy said in a heavy British accent, as he launched himself into Brice's arms. Hunter watched as the beautiful blond-haired boy peppered Brice's face with kisses.

"Ethan! It's so good to see you," Brice said as he laughed and hugged the boy tightly. Hunter stood by awkwardly as Ethan locked his lips on Brice's.

"Ah, well, maybe I'll go wait on the yacht while you two, er, get, ah, reacquainted." Ethan turned and finally looked at Hunter. Brice released him from the hug and Ethan turned to look at Hunter.

"Oooo, Bricey, you've brought a really cute boy with ya," Ethan said as his eyes roamed suggestively up and down Hunter's body. "Yeah, really cute, mate."

"Ethan, this is Hunter. Hunter, this is my friend Ethan," Brice said by way of introduction.

"Nice to meet you," Hunter said as he reached out to shake Ethan's hand, but the teen was having nothing to do with that. He wrapped his arms around Hunter and pulled him in for a tight hug. Hunter hesitantly wrapped his arms around Ethan and then squeaked as Ethan grabbed his ass and squeezed.

"Ah, Brice," Hunter stammered. Brice just looked at him and grinned.

"Ethan is a very loving person. Very, very loving," Brice said while joining in a group hug. "We should head up the Ethan's room and, well, you know, get to know each other a bit better." Ethan looked at Hunter with hopeful eyes. Hunter was tempted, but his mind was suddenly filled with images of Jesse and that night not so long ago when they shared their bodies below deck on Hunter's sailboat, not to mention Hunter's most recent time aboard 'Stargazer' with Brice.

"Ah, you two go ahead. I'm going to double check the big ass yacht and make sure all the lines are secure. We don't want it, ah, drifting out to sea or anything," Hunter said. Brice looked at him with questioning eyes. "Go on. I'll be along in a minute." Brice nodded slowly.

"Your daddy got a new fishing boat, did he?" asked Ethan as they headed for the front door.

"No, Ethan. Same fishing boat, but Hunter insists it's a big ass yacht."

"Oooo, I like the sound of that." Ethan turned to Hunter. "Top of the stairs and first room on the right love," Ethan said while licking his lips. "Don't dawdle too long." Hunter almost rolled his eyes at the overly suggestive expression on Ethan's face.

"Okay, see you in a few." Brice and Ethan continued for the house. Hunter stood and watched them go arm in arm. Turning back toward the dock, Hunter wiped a tear from his left eye as his thoughts still centered on Jesse.

Despite his hateful words, Hunter just could not get Jesse out of his mind. Hunter added a spring line as well as another stern line to the big ass yacht, all the while, continuing to think about his best friend.

"Good goddamn, I still love that sorry son-of-a-bitch," he said out loud. "Now, what the hell can I do about it? Or maybe more importantly, what the hell am I willing to do about it?"

* * * * *

Max Westphal hovered his helicopter over the dock where Dan Dutton's helicopters had landed. The 'Stargazer' was tied to the dock and gently swayed from the chopper's rotor wash. Max rotated his helicopter parallel with the dock and landed near the other choppers. Commander Walsh was out the door in a flash heading for the sailboat.

"There's no one on board, sir," Lieutenant Dutton called out to the commander.

"I heard that on the radio. I want to see her for myself," Commander Walsh replied curtly and continued over to the sailboat. He looked her over for less than a minute then turned sharply toward Lieutenant Dutton.

"There's a whole lot of bullet holes in this sailboat. Looks like a goddamned western shootout. I thought you brought guardsmen with you, not fucking gunslingers. The only place I've seen more holes is at the shooting range. And that's a lot of fucking blood in the cockpit, Lieutenant!" the commander snapped out just before putting his nose inches from Dan's face and continued in a dangerously low growl. "Didn't know we were shooting at missing teenagers these days." Dan's face flushed red. "I want a written report, a d-e-t-a-i-l-e-d written report on my desk by oh eight hundred. Are we clear?"

"Crystal, sir."

"What happened to Captain Turner?"

"Hunter said they had a knockdown early in the storm while the captain was below deck. Once Hunter got the boat under control, he went to check on Captain Turner. He found the captain on the salon floor with a pool of blood around his head. Hunter tried CPR but was unsuccessful. Hunter kept the captain's body wrapped in a sheet in the aft cabin. It was hot as hell, according to Hunter, and he didn't run the air conditioning to save fuel. After three days, the, ah, smell got to be too bad, so Hunter buried the captain at sea." Commander Walsh sighed and nodded his head.

"Now, tell me about all that fiberglass damage. Please tell me that your men did not shoot up this yacht?"

"No, sir. We may be responsible for two or three shots, but the majority of the damage came before our, ah, exchange at the lagoon."

"Care to explain where the earlier damage came from, Lieutenant? I don't seem to remember any damage at all when she set sail."

"No idea sir, however, I believe one of our Search and Rescue teams had a run in with a drug boat that was damaged by gun fire. I seem to remember it was found some fifty miles from here. The report mentioned billowing black smoke and a body, sir."

"That would mean a seventeen year old boy exchanged gun fire with a dangerous drug boat and came out on the better end of the deal? I find that hard to believe."

"It would seem that is the case, sir. There's an assault rifle registered to Captain Turner below deck. The clip is half empty." The commander glanced back at the 'Stargazer.'

"And who stepped that boom? Was it the same boy your men shot?"

"I really can't say for sure, but it would seem likely. According to Hunter, the boat took that knockdown early in the storm. Without Captain Turner in the picture, it would be a safe assumption that Hunter stepped the boom himself, sir."

"Thank you, Dan." The commander turned to watch the arriving skiff from the cutter. Max walked up to Dan.

"What happened with Hunter?" he asked. Dan sighed and started to explain.

"We were talking and suddenly Hunter bolted. He swam out to the sailboat, cranked the engine and called out for Brice. Brice jumps in the water and next thing I know shots rang out, including a shot from Hunter that kicked up sand less than a foot from me. I don't know if it was sheer luck that he missed or if he's a crack shot, but anyway, they haul ass out the lagoon while I'm screaming 'hold your fire' and the last shot hit Hunter. He went down. I don't know how bad it is, but there's a lot of blood in the cockpit. By the time I got everybody onboard the chopper, got the pre-flight done and got in the air, the sailboat was gone. We searched for probably half an hour before we found this dock tucked away back here in this clump of trees. Where the kids are, I've no idea. I've got my men searching the woods and even the house."

"What caused Hunter to bolt? That seems strange. And who's Brice?" asked Max.

"Brice is the son of the guy who owns this island. He's about the same age as Hunter. Anyway, after Hunter bolted for the sailboat, he, ah Brice that is, ah, gave me a real dress down. Said I was a dunderhead. He actually called me a dunderhead. Heck, all I did was tell Hunter that Jesse has been worried sick. Then Hunter yells at me from the sailboat to tell Jesse he can go to hell." Max was stunned.

"What the fuck?" he thought to himself. "So, does Hunter really hate Jesse? He hates him enough to do this? To shoot at people? To run away?" The suppositions continued to rattle around in Max's brain while the crew from the cutter prepared the 'Stargazer' to be towed back to Jacksonville.

* * * * *

Hunter sat at the dock as thoughts of Jesse continued to invade the young sailor's thoughts. He even shook his head, physically, trying to free himself from thinking about his former best friend. The thoughts came in like the beach surf, each memory crashing headlong into his conscious thoughts.

Dan Dutton told him that Jesse was at the Coast Guard Station daily and that he was worried about Hunter. That news was in direct conflict with his last conversation with Jesse. Hunter's former best friend had made it crystal clear what he wanted, or in Hunter's case, didn't want. What Jesse said was etched in stone in Hunter's memory.

"I never, ever want to see or talk to you again. Just stay away from me."

The look on Jesse's face when he said those cutting, hurtful words was twisted with pure disgust. There was no chance of misinterpreting the meaning behind those words. The punch in the face was the exclamation point that drove the message home.

"Hey, you okay?" The call from Brice rousted Hunter from the mental attack of Jesse memories. He looked up and saw his new friend approaching.

"I'm good," Hunter said as he sat up looking into a concerned face.

"It's been a bit and I was worried. Ethan and I were about to start round two when I realized you were still out here."

"Quite the reunion, it would seem."

"Yeah, first time I've seen him this year. We usually get together a few times every summer. So, what about you? Are you sure you're okay?"

"Sorry, just consumed with thoughts." Brice sat down beside him. The rumpled clothes and mussed hair did not go unnoticed by Hunter.

"I know you had a rough go of it out there." Hunter snorted. He couldn't help it. Brice sighed and continued. "Okay, I know nothing of the hardships you went through, but you're safe now. You're with people that care about you. Put it all behind you for now, even your thoughts of Jesse." Hunter flinched. "I know, before you say anything, I know. That's a touchy subject and I still can't believe that idiot on the helicopter brought him up."

"Thanks, Brice. I guess I'm still a little ragged around the edges."

"Come on up to the house. I can guarantee that Ethan can make you forget about everything." Hunter smiled.

"I'm sure he can. Go on back up and I'll be along shortly. I'm just enjoying being on dry land for the first time in a few days."

"Okay, Hunter," Brice smiled and pointing his finger at his friend. "Don't make me come back out here again." Hunter grinned.

"I won't be long."

* * * * *

"No sign of them anywhere, sir." The guardsman reported to Lieutenant Dan Dutton.

"You checked everywhere?"

"Yes sir. I even talked to the ass, er, the stuck up guy at the house." Dan nodded. "The only thing the guy asked was if we checked the fishing boat," the guardsman answered.

"What fishing boat?"

"He said it was almost a hundred feet long and down at the dock." Dan quickly did a three-sixty. Then he zeroed in on the huge cleats along the edge of the dock and the light bulb went off.

"They left in the, what did he call it, a fishing boat?" The guardsman nodded. "More like a giant yacht. Does anyone know what it looks like?"

"There's a picture of a big yacht over in the dock building, sir." Dan took off at a trot toward the building. He quickly went through the door and sure enough, right there on the wall behind the bar was a painting of a huge white yacht with a fly bridge.

"Of course he has a painting of his yacht," Dan thought to himself as he snapped a picture of said painting with his smart phone. Then he sent the picture to Max, Ted and Commander Walsh. He typed out a message to go with the picture.

"Looks like the boys took the family yacht. No idea where they went," he typed and then hit send. Dan trotted back to his chopper and saw Max and the commander coming his way.

"What makes you think they took this yacht?" Max asked.

"Because it's missing. It's supposed to be tied up right here. Look at those giant cleats. They're not for a fishing boat. They're for a big ass yacht. The guy up at the house clued us in by asking if we checked it for the boys," Dan explained.

"Damn smart kids," the commander muttered, then he squared his shoulders. "Nothing we can do about it tonight. They could have gone in any direction. By the way, a yacht that big should have an AIS (Automatic Identification System) transponder. What's the name of the yacht?"

"'Seas the Day.' It's right there on the picture," Dan pointed out.

"Radio the cutter and have them check for the AIS signature with that name," the commander directed. Dan grabbed the radio microphone just inside his chopper and called it in.

The AIS Officer on the cutter received his orders from his captain. Just as he turned to the screen, a blip disappeared from a nearby island. That blip was the big ass yacht and was missed by the operator.

A few minutes later, the call came back. No sign of the yacht.

"Could be on automatic so it's only on when the yacht is under way," Max suggested.

"So, it has to be fairly close by, probably tied up somewhere or it's on the hook," Dan added.

"Or Hunter simply switched the AIS off," the commander said. "Hell, he's a bright kid, knows a thing or two and thinks we're out to get him. They could be halfway to Nassau."

"Beggin' yer pardon, mister CO, but I still think Hunter is probably scared to death since some of the members of these here United States Coast Guard might have accidently, maybe slightly, maybe on purpose … shot their guns at him. If'n I were him, I'd be quite pissed off at us too."

"The only problem we have here, Hagan, is Hunter thinks we're out to get him and he's been shot. We have no idea how bad he's been hit. It is vitally important that we find him and make sure he's okay. So, let's make a quick circle around this island. Let's go out for five miles or so and see if we spot the yacht," ordered the commander. Dan and Max saluted the commander and headed for their respective helicopters.

As Max lifted off the island, he looked below and saw the 'Stargazer' being towed away by the cutter. Max banked his chopper left while Dan banked his right in search of the elusive big ass yacht. The special ops helicopter remained on the dock. Twenty minutes later they were all headed back to base.

"At least we know how they got away from the island. Now we just have to keep an eye out for the AIS signature when they fire that yacht up again. I'm worried Hunter is gravely wounded and needs medical attention," Max said.

"Right ya are Capt'n. They ain't done nothing wrong, but they think we're out to get 'em with all the gun fire and what not. At least we got the radar, or what's left of it. I still can't believe Hunter actually made it through all that. He's one hell of a sailor," Ted said. Max nodded his head in agreement.

* * * * *

Hunter walked slowly back to the dock and looked over the big ass yacht. Even though the dock was dark, the stainless railings shone in the moonlight. The giant anchors hung like pendulums against their stainless steel background. The white hull almost glowed under the full moon. The yacht was a stunning piece of craftsmanship. His eyes saw the yacht, but his heart saw Jesse. Tears came unannounced.

"I'm in over my head," he said out loud. Brice was a nice enough guy. He was smart, intelligent, really cute, had loads of cash and seemed to genuinely care for him. The problem was with Hunter's heart, which still beat firmly for Jesse.

Finally, Hunter walked slowly back up to the house and up the stairs to the first room on the right. The sounds coming from the room left nothing to the imagination as to what was going on behind the closed door, round two. Hunter sighed and moved to the next door down the hall and opened the door to thankfully find an empty bedroom.

"Perfect," he said to himself. After a quick shower in the ensuite, Hunter crawled between the sheets and tried to go to sleep. He suddenly realized this was his first night on dry land since this fucked up adventure started.

It felt strange to be in a bed that didn't move and in a room that was quiet. He was on board 'Stargazer' four or five days tops. Sleeping in a regular bed shouldn't be anything new. The intensity of the many hours of his adventure drove their familiarity into Hunter's being. He'd been intent on listening to every sound and feeling every motion. The fact that the bed was not moving and it was virtually silent, was unsettling.

Hunter quietly counted his blessings. Then, as sleep finally overtook him, his thoughts once again turned to Jesse.

* * * * *

Max Westphal was deep in thought about what Dan said, particularly about Hunter's reaction to Jesse as he piloted the helicopter toward base. Commander Walsh was mumbling under his breath as his anger at the whole situation created enough tension in the air that you could slice through it with a dull butter knife. Ted remained uncharacteristically quiet, but not for long. Ted glanced and Max. Then he glanced at the commander. He decided they both needed a distraction. That was something he could do.

"Well saw me off at the knees and call me shortly! This is sum fucked up shit, of course beggin' the commander's pardon for the language." Commander Walsh looked at Ted with a stone-cold face for all of two seconds before he burst out laughing.

"You're damn right, Ted. It's sum fucked up shit!" the commander laughed as he tried to and failed to mimic Ted's country accent. Ted laughed and then looked over at Max, who wasn't even smiling.

"Okay, Capt'n, somebody piss in yer cornflakes? Ya got yer shorts rode up in yer crack? Ya got a bee in yer bonnet? What's goin' on buddy?" Max smiled slightly.

"A bee in my bonnet, Ted?"

"Heard that one in a movie, I think. Harry Potter in fact. Chamber of Secrets. Second book and it was the Sorting Hat that said it."

"You're a Harry Potter fan?" the commander asked with wide eyes.

"Of course, I am. Took all the kids to the midnight premieres. Now that Hagrid, I swear he's a distant cousin." The commander just shook his head in disbelief.

"Capt'n, you a Harry Potter fan?" Ted asked with a grin. Max took a deep, cleansing breath and started in on what he knew.

"Okay, look. From what I can understand, all this fucked up shit comes down to my son Jesse and Hunter Ward." Max took another deep breath and continued. "According to Dan, Hunter told him to tell my son Jesse to go to hell. I know for a fact that Jesse loves Hunter and I'm talking about romantic love." Even with the headsets on, the interior of the chopper was deathly quiet. "Ted, take the reins, I can't, I just can't right now." Ted took over flying the helicopter back to Jacksonville. "I apologize commander."

"Call me Matt," Commander Walsh said over the headset. "This, whatever you want to call it, has escalated to an unacceptable level. When people get shot on my watch, we have a problem."

"Beggin' your pardon, mister CO, but I think what we have here is a failure to communicate." Commander Matt Walsh looked Ted square in the face and smiled.

"Couldn't have said that any better, Ted."

* * * * *


On to Chapter Eight
"Swish and Flick"

Back to Chapter Six
"Not Gonna Happen"

Chapter Index

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