Chapter 28 Luka

Luka clenched his fists around the railing as he looked across the rough sea. Strange that Westly should say something now, right after he had talked to his best friend Brock. Had Brock alerted him? That had to be the reason he’d confessed the truth.

Westly carried their drinks to the balcony. Luka turned around when Westly tapped him. He handed him the drink.

“Let’s sit and talk.”

Luka didn’t answer but sat down.

Westly sat across from him, shoulders slumped, and his face etched with a weariness Luka hadn’t seen before. “Luka, I’m sorry.”

The captain’s use of his name amplified Luka’s anger. “You repeated the same fucking mistake! Why didn’t you tell me I was free to go when my lawyer called you?”

“I…” The captain faltered, his gaze dropping to the vast expanse of the ocean. “I wanted us to have more time.”

“More time for what?” Luka’s voice cracked through the rage and hurt. “For you to pretend I was some indentured servant, working off a crime I barely committed? I just don’t understand.”

The captain finally met his gaze, his blue eyes swirling with conflicting emotions. “No, Luka. This has nothing to do with the burning of my home. It’s just…” His voice trailed off as frustration creased his brow.

“Just what?” Luka pressed, voice rising. “Scared I’d run back to California, back to the waves that apparently make me a good-for-nothing in your eyes?”

The captain flinched. “I never said you were a good-for-nothing, and I wouldn’t. That’s not it. You…you bring a light to this ship. A light I haven’t had in a long time, perhaps ever.”

Luka felt a tremor in his chest, a confusing mix of anger and something warmer. “So, you kept me here under false pretenses because you were lonely?”

“It’s not that simple,” the captain pleaded. “There’s more to it. I…I love you, Luka.” The last three words were barely a whisper, lost in the wind.

The confession, unexpected and raw, deflated Luka’s anger like a pricked balloon. He stared at the captain; the harsh lines of his face softened with vulnerability. It was a look Luka hadn’t seen before, a glimpse into a man burdened by a past he didn’t understand.

A wave of conflicting emotions washed over him—hurt, betrayal, a flicker of something softer. He loved the captain, of that there was no doubt. But trust, broken again, was a fragile thing. He needed the truth, even if it meant leaving this ship, leaving the captain.

“Do you, Captain?” Luka broke the silence. “Because love and keeping someone prisoner don’t exactly go hand in hand.”

“I realize that now. I just wanted you from the first day you stepped on my ship. But we needed more time.” Tears filled Westly’s eyes.

“I knew I was free.”

“You knew?”

“My father called me and asked why I wasn’t going home. He thought I needed money for a ticket. He said my lawyer told you. Then he asked me if you’d told me. I told him you did. He said my lawyer tried to call me but said he was blocked. I know you blocked him.”

Westly stood and moved to the railing. For a few minutes, there was silence as he stared across the sea. “Why didn’t you leave?”

“I thought about it, but I wanted to be with you. I wanted to see if you would tell me, and how long you would keep me as a prisoner?”

“Don’t use words like prisoner. I never saw you as my prisoner, but as my equal partner and lover.”

“We were never equal partners, and you wanted to keep it that way. You wanted total control over me. Now, I’m free. I can go anywhere on this ship, and you can’t stop me. I can leave you and this ship.”

“What about working on the ship? And your education?”

“I could go to school in California where I belong.”

“Is that what you want?”

“I don’t know. You had no right to keep this from me, Westly!” Luka roared, but inside he was hurt. “Those extra days cooped up in this stuffy cabin, all that worry. It was all for nothing!”

“No, no, it wasn’t nothing! Our days together, they were…” Westly trailed off, searching for the right words. “They were some of the happiest moments of my life, Luka. Being with you, even under those circumstances…” His voice cracked. “I just…I fell for you, harder than I ever thought possible.”

“I’m going back to my side. I need time alone—away from you.” Luka stood and faced the door, ready to leave.

“Tomorrow we’re supposed to spend the night in Saint Lucia. Will you still come with me?”

“I don’t know. I’ll let you know in the morning.”

“Good night, Luka.”

Luka didn’t want to see his tears again. It hurt too much.

Once he got to his side, he packed all his clothes in a suitcase and also some clothes in his backpack in case he decided to spend the night in St. Lucia with Westly. He emptied his drawers and cleared everything in the bathroom. He wanted to be ready to leave in the morning. He wasn’t sure he wanted to leave, but he thought it was a good idea to be prepared if he decided to exit the ship and catch a flight.

He changed into his jeans and a top. He was going to experience the ship’s nightlife. He sent Charlie a message.

Luka: Can you meet me at the crewmember’s bar on the fifth deck?

Charlie: When?

Luka: Now

Charlie: Yes, be right there.

Luka left his cabin, the silence of the hallway amplifying his internal turmoil. The elevator’s out-of-service sign nudged him towards the stairway, each step echoing his hesitance. As he descended, the distant hum of the bar grew clearer, a mingling of soft music and muffled conversations drawing him in.

Charlie was already there, leaning against the wall, his gaze piercing through the dimly lit ambiance of the bar. The space was cozy with warm lighting casting a golden glow over the polished wooden surfaces. Nautical decor adorned the walls, and the scent of sea salt mingled with the aroma of aged spirits.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Charlie’s voice cut through Luka’s reverie.

“Let’s grab a booth and some beers. I’ve got a lot to unload,” Luka said.

They found a secluded booth tucked away in the back, a refuge from the bar’s gentle buzz. The music was a soothing backdrop, just loud enough to fill the spaces between their words.

As they sat, the frothy heads of their beers mirrored the churn of Luka’s thoughts. He was lost in a sea of confusion, caught between his past and the pull of an uncertain future.

“So why are you on this ship and locked up?” Charlie probed, unaware of the weight his question carried.

Luka recounted the tale of his confinement, the details spilling out. The crime, the betrayal, the name of Captain Clarke—all poured into the space between them. He answered all of Charlie’s questions.

Charlie listened, his expression a mix of shock and empathy.

Luka’s hands tightened around his glass, the cool surface a stark contrast to the heat of his frustration. “I’m free, but at what cost? He kept my freedom from me, and now I’m torn.”

The possibility of escaping to LAX loomed over him, a costly and daunting prospect. Yet, the thought of staying and trusting again after the captain’s deception was equally paralyzing. Though he loved California and the beach house and enjoyed surfing with his friends, he would miss Westly terribly. Even though he wasn’t perfect, he was the man Luka wanted. His problem with truth-telling was a huge issue, but they could work on it. Luka would have to make him feel like he would stay because he wanted to be with him.

“That’s some heavy shit. So, what happened?”

“My lawyer called him and told him I was free to leave. He got me off.”

“So, you’re free, but that doesn’t mean you have to leave.”

“Westly blocked my lawyer’s number and deleted it from my contacts. He kept my freedom from me. My father was the one who told me I was free. Then after a few days, Westly told me, and I’m pissed.”

“I would be too, but can’t you work it out?”

“I don’t know. I packed my things and can leave from Saint Lucia to LAX. The flight is four thousand dollars.”

“Do you have four thousand dollars?”

“I could get it if I need to. I told my father I was staying. I didn’t want him to know Westly didn’t tell me. I figured he would at some point. Now, I don’t know what I should do.”

“I thought you two were supposed to go to Saint Lucia for the night?” Charlie’s question lingered in the air, a reminder of plans unfulfilled and decisions pending.

Luka’s gaze drifted to the foam slowly settling at the bottom of his glass, a silent testament to the turmoil within.

“I told him I’d let him know in the morning.”

Charlie got a text message and read it.

“Brock wants me. Got to go. If you leave, please say goodbye.”

“I will. Let’s have breakfast tomorrow.”

“See you then.”