Repossess Page 2

  Four brothers and not one of them will answer my texts. It’s understandable if they’re busy working, but I doubt they are all indisposed simultaneously. The last I spoke to my oldest brother, I was told everything was good, and that everyone was staying out of trouble. I can only hope that when I arrive back at Tanner’s Towing, they give me a second to breathe before reaming me a new ass for failing again.

  One thing I do know is that I’m not about to take shit from anyone today. One negative comment and I’m liable to rip someone’s throat out. Most would have at least calmed down by now, but my anger has only grown into a vicious wildfire, and it’s prepared to take out anything that stands in its path.

  I’m standing at the airport terminal purposely scoping out taxi cab drivers until I find a female. It’s important for me to get away from all men until I can calm down. My brothers are in for a real treat when I show up, because I’m not in the mood for hugs and catching up. If they’re lucky they’ll be out on a run, or see my hate-filled glare and steer clear of all conversations as to why I’m back and how long I plan on staying this time.

  Atlantic City has a familiar smell, much like Las Vegas, but different in it’s own disgusting way. Street by street I recognize my old stomping grounds as I’m flooding with memories of a life that seems so long ago. Nothing but pain remains, though I have no where else to go. This is my home. Like it or not, it’s all I have left.

  The cab pulls up at the shop, which also happens to be on the same property my family resides. When Dad died we lost our house, but since the business went into my brother’s name, he was able to move us all into the space above. Located on a two acre parcel in the center of our city, it’s nothing much to brag about. The yard is usually bombarded with repossessed, or towed vehicles awaiting transport. What I’m expecting to see isn’t that at all. The lot is almost empty in the front. The sign for business is turned off in the small rectangular shaped office window. There’s some kind of notice posted on the door, though I’m not nearly close enough to read it.

  Unfastening the metal fence to enter the property, I take in the familiar surroundings, and notice how desolate it all appears. Something isn’t right. I can feel it in the pit of my stomach.

  I hear the chain unwinding before I see the family Rottweiler coming out to show his presence. Not sure if he remembers me, I stand there waiting to watch his body signs. His nub of a tail begins to shake and his large tongue protrudes as if I have some familiar scent he can never forget. I take a few steps, close enough to reach out. He jumps on his hind legs and gives me a welcome hug. My knees bend as I greet my long lost buddy. “How come they have you out here all chained up, Zeus? You belong inside in your cozy bed.”

  Before I’m able to unfasten his chained collar, I hear the sound of the squeaky metal security door opening. My middle oldest brother Tucker, leans against it with his arms folded across his chest. He doesn’t speak, rather gives me a quick once over and furrows his brows. He obviously assumes I’m only home because I’ve screwed up life again. He knows something is wrong, probably even aware it’s another fucked relationship. “Hey. Long time no see.”

  My brother shakes his head, while pulling a bent, half-eaten straw, from his teeth. Out of all my siblings, Tuck has the most sense, or did when I left. He’s always wanted things organized. When he married a girl from the other side of town we assumed he’d move away, but proved us wrong by staying and working hard to keep up with the growing family business. We used to only have one tow truck, however that changed once we all were able to legally drive. By the time I turned eighteen we owned two flatbeds, which were easier. The wench capacity on the flatbeds doubled the load size of a standard tow truck. That’s when were really started raking in the dough.

  I give my attention back to my four-legged friend.

  The dog smells like he’s rolled in his own shit. The pungent odor hits my nostrils and sends me to my feet to recover. “Shew! You need a bath, boy.” I wave my hand n front of my face to help handle the shock.

  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 bawling 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 relationshi
p. 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 brother’s 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 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. “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 shouldn’t 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 downstairs 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 a expired desk calendar with enough hand written 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 are 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 o
nly 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 where 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 douche bags, 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.