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.
Crane Lord.
My heart is still racing, but it’s for another reason. It’s been so long, yet it feels as if no time has passed. He’s every bit of the man I walked away from, which is clearly being demonstrated in the way he is maneuvering his head to control the female’s movements as she attempts to use her mouth to pleasure him.
His eyes are locked shut, and he’s too preoccupied to notice someone else has entered the room. The sounds of her sucking on his cock causes the bile to rise in my throat. This feels the same as when I caught him in the act before. Maybe it’s my father’s way of torturing me from beyond the grave. He wants me to fail. Perhaps he wants all of his children to be miserable the way he lived most of his life. I often wonder if he was ever capable of love. If so, he’d lost his motivation long before I came into the world.
While Crane is indisposed, his senses in overdrive, I take full advantage of the situation.
My arms cross as I clear my throat loud enough to shock the both of them, and when he finally focuses on me for the first time a wicked smirk forms across my disgusted face. “I see some things never change, Crane.”