AS THEY CLIMBED UP TO the wheelhouse, Parker said, “Does he always treat new hires this way?”
“Nope.” Abraham laughed. “Certain people tend to tick him off. That’s because he’s a little off.” Abraham tapped his head. “Up here. And it makes him mean. And sometimes he loses it and takes it out on people he doesn’t like. But if it helps, you’re not alone.”
Abraham raised his thick coat to reveal a Mr. Rogers T-shirt. He lifted that halfway up his torso to reveal a long, thin scar that ran down the left side of his body and across his stomach.
The man grinned. “At first he didn’t like me. Threatened to kill me, but I got away with nothing more than this impressive scar.”
“Are you crazy?” Parker stared at the scar till the tall man dropped his T-shirt and coat back over his stomach. “Why didn’t you report him? Even if you didn’t, why would you continue to work for Logan?”
“Good question.” Abraham stepped inside the wheelhouse and Parker followed. Dawson was peering at a number of instruments, heard them, and looked up.
Parker nodded to Dawson, who only grunted, then turned back to Abraham. “Well, you have an answer?”
“There’re much worse things than a small nick from a slightly deranged fishing boat captain.”
“Small nick? Slightly?”
“There’s a lot of good in him too. So since there is, if I were you, I’d be looking for that. Not trying to prove something.”
“What?” Parker glared at Abraham. “I’m not trying to prove anything to anyone.”
“Oh?” Abraham cocked his head. “Good to know.”
“Where do you get that idea fro—”
Before Parker could finish, someone lashed their arms around his chest from behind and pinned Parker’s arms to his sides. He was yanked off his feet like a doll. Parker flung his head back, hoping to crack his head against his assailant’s chin or face, but the only thing he accomplished was to make a sharp pain shoot through his neck. His captor squeezed tighter, and Parker thought his lungs were about to collapse. It had to be Logan. Parker cracked his heels into Logan’s shins, but the action was like kicking an iron post.
Logan carried Parker through the door of the wheelhouse and flung him to the deck. His knees slammed into the deck and he rolled three feet before stopping. He rose to his elbows and knees, but before he could stand, Logan shoved him over again, thrusting a well-placed boot against his shoulder. He came to rest with his upper back shoved up against the starboard side of the boat.
“Get up!” Logan’s gritty voice seethed with disgust.
The instant Parker stood, Logan slammed him against the railing, where the small of his back took the brunt of the blow. “What do you think you’re doing, Rook?” Logan slammed Parker against the railing again and swore as spit flew out of his mouth.
“Argh!” A bolt of pain shot through Parker’s lower back and radiated down his legs.
“Yeah?” Logan pressed his face into Parker’s. “That hurt? Is that what you’re trying to spit out?”
Logan pressed Parker against the railing in the same spot where he’d taken the first impact. Spikes of pain shot through his lower back like a knife being jabbed into his spine.
“Or are you trying to ask permission to take a swim? Huh? Which one is it, Rook?”
Parker sucked in uneven breaths and tried to focus on Logan’s wild eyes.
“What is your problem, Logan?”
“Am I stupid, or did I tell you to stay out of the wheelhouse?”
Rage surged through Parker, and he ignored the pain in his back and popped Logan’s shoulders as hard as he could with the palms of his hands. The big man staggered back a few steps and his mouth turned up in a mocking grin.
“That all you got?” His grin widened. “Or is that your warm-up? Maybe it’s an invitation. You want to take a swing at me? Is that it? Why not? You’re not that small, and you’ve already lost the extra you were carrying around your gut. So let’s rumble.”
Logan stepped back and beckoned with both hands. “Just you and me. Right here. Right now. Come on. Let’s go. You know you want to.”
Logan grinned and swore as he moved toward Parker, fists up, feet shuffling. Parker had never studied any kind of martial arts, never joined his dad’s training sessions with Joel or Allison, but he’d been in his share of schoolyard fights growing up, and he’d been training on the muk yan jong sparring post for months now. And the one thing he had learned from his dad was never to be scared of anyone. He’d also taught Parker the simple formula for winning fights like this one. Hit first, hit hard, don’t stop. Parker stared at Logan, whose grin had grown even wider. The bigger man could probably take him out with one or two shots. Parker didn’t care. This wasn’t about winning. The only way to get a bully like Logan to back down was to fight till his fists were bloody.
Parker raised his fists and started toward Logan, who weaved back and forth in a tiny semicircle. But after two strides Parker stopped. Abraham slipped into his line of sight over Logan’s shoulder, leaning against the stairs as if he were on a beach in the Bahamas. His gaze was locked onto Parker’s eyes. He gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head. But it was the expression on his face that stopped Parker. An expression of knowledge and sadness. Parker dropped his hands, tilted his head back, glanced at Logan, then turned away.
“That it?” Logan opened his palms in disbelief. “We’re not going to party?”
Parker didn’t trust his tongue, so he said nothing and gave a quick shake of his head. Logan strode off without a word. In seconds, Abraham and Parker were alone on the deck.
“Why did you stop me?” Parker called out.
“Stop you?”
“Yeah.”
“I didn’t. You stopped yourself.” Abraham strolled over as he pulled his ever-present cigarette from his ear and spun it around his fingers. “You surprised me. Didn’t expect you to man up like that.”
“If you hadn’t been there, I would have gone after Logan with everything I have.”
Abraham grinned and said, “Would’ve been a good battle,” but his eyes said Parker would have been thrashed. “You think you have a right to be pissed off?”
“What do you mean? Are you kidding? You see how he’s been treating me.”
“Deal with it.”
“Deal with it?”
“Yep.” Abraham drilled him with his eyes. “Has Logan been starving you? Made you work longer or harder than anyone else on the boat?”
“No.”
“Has he screamed and sworn at you any louder or longer than at the rest of us?”
“No.”
“Wha’d he tell you to do when you first got here? Huh? Stay out of the wheelhouse.”
“I get it.”
Abraham turned around and jumped up so he now sat on a crate. He zeroed his eyes in on Parker, then jabbed a hard finger into his shoulder. “No. You don’t.”
He glared at Abe and shoved his finger away. “Logan doesn’t pay you or me or any of us enough to be jerked around like he does.”
“But we’re not talking about Logan, are we? We’re talking about you. And why you go after him when no one else on the ship does.”
“Go after him?”
“Yes. You’re trying to push his buttons. You went into the wheelhouse to do exactly that.”
Again, Parker didn’t answer.
“There’s a better way.”
“Oh yeah?”
Abraham slipped off the crate and his shoes slapped onto the steel deck. “Let me ask you, if you were to fight him, would you win?”
“Maybe. Maybe not. Doesn’t matter. I’m willing to take a pounding to find out.”
“I respect your courage, because you’d get crushed, which I think you already know. So what’s the thing you hope to get from a fight with Logan?”
Parker sat dumbfounded. Get? Wasn’t it obvious? Respect. He’d beat the man into submission if possible. If not, he’d take out his frustration and anger on the guy by at least getting in a few good punches. Take vengeance for Logan treating him like crap.
“I want to knock some sense into the lunatic.”
“And probably impress your dad.”
Parker fixed his gaze on Abe and frowned. “How do you know about my father and me?”
“It’s all over you. In your eyes. In the way you walk. You’ve got something to prove. I’ve seen it a hundred times.”
Abraham moved to the side of the boat and leaned back against the rail. “Your problem is simple, so if you want to, you can solve it fast.”
“All right, what’s this better way?”
“Admit the truth.”
“Which is?”
“You don’t feel like you’re worth much. So you try to prove your worth by being tough. Never backing down. Which is why you did so well right now with Logan. That wasn’t easy for you.”
Parker tried to laugh it off. “What are you, some kind of psychiatrist now?”
“And that hole inside is why you immerse yourself in extreme sports and ride your motorcycle on the edge of sanity.” Abraham pulled a chunk of bread out of his pocket and tossed it in the direction of three seagulls that circled the boat. “For a moment those adventures tell you you’re worth something. But then the rush fades and you’re back to the reality that you think very little of yourself.”
Parker sat stunned. No one had ever talked to him this straight. This brutally. This true. He scowled. “Where do you get off psychoanalyzing me, Abe? Huh? You want to tell me? What gives you the right?”
Abe only smiled, a slightly amused look in his eyes.
“You think this is funny?”
“Yeah, I do.” Abraham glanced at the deck, then back up into Parker’s eyes. “And you will too, in time, once you realize how stupid it is to do what you’re doing. But now you have a shot to turn it around, because someone has finally told you a truth that’s been there, deep in your gut, for a long time. One you need to deal with if you want to be free of your dad.”
“I don’t need to listen to this.”
“Depends on what you want.”
“Oh really? What do I want?”
“I already told you.”
Abraham turned back to the railing and gazed out over the ocean. End of the conversation? Parker could pretend it was. Walk away and bury the words Abe had spoken. Or press in. His choice. He stood watching the back of Abraham’s head as it slowly moved back and forth, taking in the vastness of the sea. Maybe he was a real friend. Which would be rare in Parker’s world. Lots of acquaintances, few friends.
Parker glanced around the deck. They were still alone. He shuffled over to within a few feet of the railing. “If I’m such a worthless piece of scum, why—”
“I never said that. Your dad never said that. God never said that. You’re the only one promoting that lie.”
“God,” muttered Parker. “Like he’s part of all this.”
“You don’t think he is?”
“Not exactly.”
Abraham twisted the cigarette behind his ear. “Maybe you’re wrong. Ever considered that? Ever wondered if he’s right down in the minutiae of this age? Maybe it’s time to stop seeing him as a distant creator who wound up the toys, then left his shop and closed the door behind him.”
“I think he closed the door.”
Abraham just smiled.
“So, Guru Abe, what am I supposed to do with Logan? And how do I fix the feeling that I’m crap on a stick?”
Abraham smiled and closed his eyes as his head rocked from side to side. “I have no doubt your uninvolved God will show you on both counts.”