The Summer Catch (Oyster Cove Series Book 5)

by Jennifer Foor

  Giving my attention to my brother, because I’d rather talk about a rank pooch than my problems, I shrug and pretend this is just a friendly visit home. “Just wanted to see my brothers. Is there something wrong with that?”

  “Normally I’d say no,” he begins. “But I know you too well, sis. You’re either in trouble, or you’re back because you’ve got nowhere else to go. Sorry to say, there ain’t a damn thing here for you either.” He’s straight up rude, not that I expect any less. From the looks of things, business is slow. Since my brother depends on a paycheck, I can imagine he’s been in a foul mood for a while.

  “What the hell is going on with this empty lot? Tell me the rest of the crew is out filling orders.”

  He shrugs and spits on the ground at his feet. “Like I said, there’s not a damn thing here for you, Raimey. You’re better to turn back around and go somewhere else.”

  “Say what you want. I’m here. This is my home. You can’t force me to leave, or make a decision for me. I might be back for good,” I say while cringing at the thought. “This place looks like a dump. What’s going on? Where is everybody? Do they have the tow trucks with them?” I’m asking because we always left the trucks behind the gated fence, but none are there. “Where’s Linc? Del? Hath?”

  My brother’s guffaw is so wicked his lip curls. “Another reason you need to turn around and go back to where you came. They’re gone. I’m all that’s left and I had to sell most of the equipment to pay for other shit. If you were here or checked in maybe you’d know what’s been going on, but no. We’ve heard nothing from you. You could have been dead and we wouldn’t have known. Now you want to come in here asking about shit that’s none of your fucking business.”

  “What the hell is your problem? I’m not some slut you bang and send away.”

  He scratches his ear and peers down at the malnourished dog. “Whatever. I don’t need this shit today. Del and Hath are in jail. Been there for eight months.”

  “Jail?” This is the first I’m hearing of it. “Why? What in the hell is going on here?”

  He gives me another once over, scrunches his face, and pulls a cigarette from behind his ear. He lights it, while I wait for an answer.

  Eight months and not one of them reached out to me. I’m at a loss for words. Those bastards hid it from me, probably because they didn’t want me around. “Well, for starters, Delany was charged with possession with intent to distribute. Then, while he was out on bail, which his ass still owes me for, he decided to do a side job with Hath and Crane. Turns out, that job was breaking into some million dollar home to repossess a Lamborghini. Those dumbasses tripped the silent alarm. Hath got two years, but Del was sentenced to ten. It’s a fucking mess, which is another reason why if I were you I’d leave. No offense, Raimey, but there ain’t shit left. I don’t know what else to tell you.”

  “Where’s Karen?” Karen is his wife. They’ve been together for a while. If he was struggling I’d imagine she is too.

  “Karen left me. She took the kids and went to live with her mother in upstate New York. Fuck that bitch.”

  I run my hands through my long dark hair, which feels greasy even though I washed it last night. “This is unreal. Why didn’t you call me? Where’s Lincoln, and please tell me Crane’s ass is behind bars.”

  “Crane, uh, he didn’t go with them that night. He was somewhere else across town, and you know the boys won’t rat him out. If you ask they’ll probably deny it. He’s nothing but a liar, but I don’t have to tell you that.”

  My teeth grit, my hands both balling up like I’m about to punch something.

  Crane Lord.

  I hate him so much. The mere mention of his name makes my skin crawl. He’s the only man I ever trusted, the first and the last. He tore out my heart and pulled me along for years before I got the courage to finally walk away. What’s worse is how much he knows it. No amount of begging in the world would fix our severed and tattered relationship. He’s the epitome of an excuse for a man. He’s a criminal, a hard-headed waste of space. Even his good looks aren’t going to fool me again. I couldn’t care less that half the artwork on his body was done by me, or that most symbolize the love we once shared.

  As bitter as I am about Jeffery’s deception, it won’t ever compare to the hate I feel for Crane Lord. Now I’m finding out he’s gotten my brothers in trouble.

  “I can’t believe this. And Linc? Tell me he’s doing whatever it takes.” I know my oldest brother has to be doing everything he can to rectify this situation. He’s never trusted Crane. The only reason they still talk to him is because he’s best friends with Del. Now Del is rotting away in a jail cell while Crane is probably banging some hooker he picked up on the corner.

  I want to scream at the top of my lungs, but refrain to avoid looking more desperate.

  My brother’s next words leave me speechless and sick to my stomach. I can’t fathom what it’s like to hear.

  “Linc wants nothing to do with the whole situation. He’s working as a construction foreman on some new casino job in town. Raimey, he hasn’t come around for two months. He’s got Krista and the kids. Things aren’t the same as they were five years ago. I’m not telling you to leave because I don’t want you here. You’re my sister, but there’s nothing but drama here. The business is in the ground. It’s done.”

  “In the ground?” I repeat. “How is that possible? There will always be illegal parked vehicles and repossessions.”

  He nods. “Yeah, you’re right. There will be, but unfortunately we’re no longer the company getting the jobs. There’s bigger fish out there. Just leave it at that.”

  “Leave it at that?” My hands go to my hips. I’m so damn confused I feel like shoving him. “Is there something you’re not telling me? How can we go from being on top to losing it all? Is this because of Del and Hath? Is that why Linc got another job? Was there a falling out?”

  “Jesus Christ, Raimey. You don’t know when to quit.”

  “Is it because of the job Crane got them?”

  This gets his attention in a different way. He looks to me with displease. “Crane’s running his own show these days. In fact, I’ve been keeping the lights on by working for him.”

  Swallowing the bile before it can expel from my lips is hard, but I manage. Am I hearing this right? The man I hate more than anyone else is the new top repo guy. I must be mistaken. I knew he was working for us, but this is unreal. I bite down so hard on my lip that I begin to taste metal. My teeth press hard locking my jaw. I want to shove my brother to the ground, even though he is at least a foot taller than me. “Come again? Did you just say you were working for Crane? Like you’re saying he has his own company now?”

  My brother sticks his hands in his pockets and kicks some gravel around. “Yeah. Word gets around, sis. We broke the law on a job. I lost the business license. The insurance lapsed, and we were about to claim bankruptcy. That’s when Crane came up with enough dough to pay the rest of the legal fees and bail my ass out. One day he showed up with a new business license and insurance, and before I even knew what was happening, he’d moved into a bigger garage and purchased trucks.”

  “He did all that without any of you suspecting he was up to no good?”

  “I thought he was trying to help us. Lots of businesses change names to start over. We’ve all known him since we were kids.”

  “And you’re still working with him? You’re legitimately going into work and collecting a check from the son of a bitch who made us lose everything you work so hard to build? This is unbelievable!”

  He motions to me. “What’s unbelievable is you standing here giving me shit about it. It’s just a damn job. I don’t need you showing up at my door telling me what I should have and shouldn’t have done. I made the choices that was right for my life. We’re not kids anymore, Raimey, and we’re certainly not obligated to tell each other what’s going on.”

  Before he can attest, I barge through the door and enter the d
ownstairs of the old shop. I’m not surprised it hasn’t changed. Men are terrible about decorating and keeping up with things. An old motorcycle sits in the middle of the floor with parts surrounding it. Two huge toolboxes line the back wall. It smells of motor oil and man, and oddly like home. I’m used to it. It’s familiar.

  When I reach the metal desk that came with the building, I grab a pen and rip off a slither of paper from the corner of an expired desk calendar with enough handwritten notes on it that it makes my eyes cross. This is also what my brothers would consider being organized.

  I shove the items in his direction, almost putting them in his hands for him to take. “Here. Give me the address. I’m going to let that fucker know he’s not getting away with this shit again. I don’t care what I have to do, he’s going down.”

  My brother tosses the stuff back on the desk and crosses his arms, which makes him look broad and strong. There’s no doubt that he’s probably still working out a couple days a week. I can see the muscles through his tight fitting T-shirt. At six foot tall I’d stand no chance at pushing him around, not unless he let me do it.

  It doesn’t stop me from trying. The palms of my hands shove him backward. “Tell me where I can find him.”

  He takes me by the arms and steadies me. “Calm down. You don’t need to be going over there and causing more trouble. Just let it be. I’m not getting in the middle of it. Don’t be starting shit with him that will come back on me.”

  “No. No!” I repeat louder. “He can’t do this. We were there for him. We gave him a job when nobody else would.”

  His tone changes. “It’s not as bad as you’re thinking. Crane took over. He helped us get back on our feet. He was sorry for what happened with Del and Hath, and while the business struggled without them, he hired new people and paid them out of his pocket. After a while he started doing the jobs without needing our help. I don’t blame him for going out on his own. I would have done the same thing.”

  Why is he sugar coating this after he’s said Crane is the reason this is happening? It makes no sense.

  My teeth grit as I manage to speak through my agitation. “Do not take up for him. Just don’t. Don’t say another damn word. Write down the address or I’ll start asking around.”

  My brother rolls his eyes, jots down the address, and walks away. “Make sure he knows I don’t want any part of this war you’re starting.”

  “Don’t worry. This is all me. I’m sure he’ll know it the moment he sees me walking through the door.”

  “Whatever, Raimey. I’m telling you, he’s going to deny it, and then start shit with me. You’re making a mistake.”

  Taking the keys off the wall hanger, I hold them in the air. “I’m borrowing Bertha. I’ll be back later,” I yell out to him. Bertha is the oldest tow truck. We named her and it stuck.

  He waves me away, but says nothing.

  Staring at the address, a knot forms in my throat. As much as I want to give this guy a piece of my mind, I need to prepare for how I’m going to go about it.

  I have no idea what’s going to happen, but I’m going to get answers, and then, just maybe I can figure out how to help the family I’ve had nothing to do with for years.

  Chapter 3

  Pisstivity: degrees of being pissed off.

  This isn’t how I planned my first day back in Jersey. My hopes of taking a much needed nap to calm down were thrown out the second I heard his name spoken from my brother’s mouth. I’m irate. A part of me has forgotten all about my relationship with Jeffrey, just to be able to focus all of my frustration on Crane.

  I peer down at the address my brother gave me for the new shop, but I can’t believe the location. It’s a high dollar part of town, and I can’t place the building. It’s in an up and coming neighborhood. When I moved to Vegas I remember them tearing down a lot of the old buildings to put up townhouses and condos. A lot of residents were restoring old row homes and racking up the housing market in the area. The only reason I’m familiar with it is because Crane once spoke of buying one of them, with me.

  Imagining that life with him seems like a distant memory; one I swore I wouldn’t think about because the pain still lingers.

  Not knowing what I’m going to expect, I drive the tow truck while listening to my phone call off directions, all while fighting the urge to turn around.

  When I say we had a bad breakup, it’s sort of deceiving. There were few words between us before I took off and swore to never speak to him again.

  Catching him in the act with another woman wasn’t even the worst part. The lies had piled up, and once I admitted that he wasn’t worth my time, I understood just how blind I’d been.

  I don’t know what hurt me worse; him cheating, or the fact that my brothers were with him while he was doing it.

  A wicked grin strikes my face when I think about them being in jail, as if it’s somehow a punishment for them failing to take up for me.

  Delany and Hathaway were never the kind of brothers to take up for their sister. They’ve always been selfish douchebags, who would rather break the law to get a buck than work hard for a living.

  Living in Vegas helped me see what it was like to have to depend on myself. Sure, my two oldest brothers were always great about putting food on the table and making sure we had a roof over our heads, but they were more to me. They protected me. It’s another reason I’m pissed one of them is working for Crane. He was there for me when I discovered the lies. He held me while I bawled my eyes out for days. He helped me pack for Vegas and gave me the money to get a place once I arrived. At first he called once a week. Then it became less and less. I suppose he figured I was doing my thing and that I didn’t need him anymore. Perhaps some of the blame should fall on me for never visiting. I’d been consumed in a relationship with a man I thought I’d have a future with, only to get knocked down when I discovered I’d been betrayed again.

  Taking a deep breath, I gather the courage to handle what’s in store for me. This won’t be a happy reunion. I’m pretty sure the last words I said to Crane consisted of hoping he fucking died. What’s funny is knowing I still feel just as bitter now, except instead of all my anger geared toward his deception to me, he’s crossed the line with my brothers. Now it’s war. He’s going to have to face me this time, and knowing me, I’m liable to leave him sterile from a swift, hard kick to the genitals.

  When I woke up this morning I didn’t know how many opportunities would arise where I’d be able to give a guy a piece of my mind. I’m two for two. After this, I’m heading to a bar. If I do nothing else today, it will be enough.

  Flabbergasted. It’s how I feel when I pull up to a brand new manufactured building with high tech fencing and cameras surrounding the full stocked lot of vehicles. There’s a security booth with an officer sitting inside at the entrance. I pull up and double check the address, even though I can see the tow trucks parked out front.

  The older man waits for me to roll down the window of my brother’s truck he’s lent me. “Can I help you, ma’am?”

  “Yeah, I’m here to see Crane Lord. Can you point me in the right direction?”

  He raises a finger and motions toward a side entrance to the building. “I believe he should be in his office. Take the stairs. When you get inside, make your first left. I’ll let him know to expect you.”

  I’m at the verge of hyperventilating when I put the truck in the parked position and rest my head on the steering wheel. My upset stomach is knotted, my palms sweaty and my heart racing as if it wants to pop right from my chest. The amount of rage I feel isn’t helping with the unsettled feeling in the pit of my stomach. I want to vomit, possibly over the fancy car I’m parked next to that I know has to be his. Only a cocky Guido like Crane would own such a vehicle. The blacked out Corvette Z-06 appears to have just been detailed. I know my cars, and this one isn’t stock. This is a custom designed work of art with a powerful engine under its hood.

  For a moment I step down from
the truck and admire the craftsmanship. A close inspection proves the sparkle in the exterior has a pearl finish. It’s a sexy ride; one I’d pick out and drive myself. Thinking we have something in common pisses me off. Using that as a boost, I make my way to the entrance and prepare to see the first man I ever loved; the one who ripped my heart out so badly it could never heal. I’m not afraid of the things I’m about to say. No. They’ll come easy. It’s the constant drumming of reminders to the life I left behind. This forces a haunting history of heartbreak and change.

  Following the directions, I enter the business and come upon the office I’m searching for. There are voices inside, one squeaky female, and from the sounds of it, they aren’t exactly speaking. Her squeals make my skin crawl. “Tell me what you want? I’ll do anything to make this better.”

  His voice is so familiar I get chills. “I’m not in the mood. I told you I have shit to do.”

  “Come on, baby. One little distraction.”

  My eyes close as I contemplate waiting until they stop. I never imagined having to walk into this type of scenario, especially when I know he’ll probably get off on the fact that he once again rendered me speechless.

  Instead of knocking, I turn the knob on the door and crack it open to peer inside. Under the impression they’re in the act, I take safeguards to conceal my presence.

  My eyes are shut, and I’m so disoriented that it appears I’m losing my ability to continue on. I’m unable to see what’s happening in the room as my lids open and I peer inside. I’m at the wrong angle to get a good view of their actions, and almost grateful for it.

  Then something overcomes me. I want to ruin his good time, even if it puts me in an unimaginable position. With no regard for the images that will be forever stamped into my memory, I take a step inside of the door, then follow through with the opposite leg. Once inside I study the scene.