Broken Promises (The Broken Road Series Book 2)

by Melissa Huie

  “We got some stuff for breakfast and lunch, but figured we could get crabs tonight,” Mom said as we walked up the stairs. She reached for her granddaughter, whom I gratefully handed over. I arched my back to stretch.

  “Crabs sound great. I’ll head up to the shack on 130th street. They always have the best deals,” Shane mentioned, his eyes back on his phone.

  “Mom, would you mind watching her?” I pulled my purse off the hook, but Shane grabbed my hand.

  “Nah Babe, you stay. Take a nap. Me and Cole got this,” he said with a smile. My eyebrows raised at his excitement then shrugged. I didn’t want to deal with his mood roller coaster.

  “Get some shrimp and beer too.”

  “Gotcha.” With a quick peck on the lips, he thundered down the stairs with Cole.

  What just happened? Did I miss something? Why is he so excited to get out? Suspicion weighed heavily in my stomach and I didn’t know what to think. But one thing I did know is I was tired of always being suspicious. Just tired.

  *****

  “Hey Babe, you ready to eat?”

  “Hmmm?’ I opened my eyes, momentarily confused as to why I was sleeping on the balcony. Then remembered coming out to read on the chaise lounge and nodding off during a very hot and steamy scene between a wealthy billionaire and his innocent yet oh-so-sexy lover.

  “The smut must not have been that good,” Shane chuckled, helping me up.

  “Nope, not as good as the real thing,” I replied dryly. He smirked and slung his arm over my shoulders.

  “Nothing is ever good as the real thing.” True, but when smut is the only thing you’ve gotten recently—I pushed away the bitterness and flashed him a big smile.

  “Of course not.”

  Everyone filtered through the sliding glass door, their arms laden with the supplies necessary to eat crabs. Rick spread out the stacks of newspapers onto the table. Cole was right behind him with paper bags full of fresh steamed Maryland Blue Crabs and steamed shrimp, all coated with Maryland’s own Old Bay Seasoning. Mom brought the paper towels, mallets, and crackers; with Aunt Nancy bringing out the melted butter. Shane passed out the beers and I buckled Katie into her portable swing. Soon we tucked into a true Maryland feast. Picking crabs is a rite of passage, with most kids in Maryland learning how to pick their first blue at an early age. As I gently pulled the succulent meat from the crab claw, I closed my eyes in delight and reveled in the taste. After stuffing ourselves silly for over two hours, we cleaned up the mess and washed the spicy seasoning off our lips and hands.

  “Why don’t you guys go down to the boardwalk? I’m too stuffed to move. Leave Katie with me; you guys go have fun,” Mom said with a smile. She was already situated in front of the TV with her crochet yarn in her lap.

  “What do you think Katie Lou? Do you wanna stay with Grandma?” I asked a sleepy Katie in Aunt Nancy’s lap. Mom had already bathed her and put her in her pajamas while we cleaned up the crab shells. Katie’s beautiful brown eyes drifted closed while drinking her milk.

  “What do you think, Babe? Wanna head down to good ol’ Playland? I bet I can beat you at some skee-ball,” I teased, looking at Shane, who was engrossed in his phone, furiously texting. “Shane!”

  “Wha? Oh, sorry Megs. Yeah, let’s head on down there,” he replied absentmindedly. Of course, he escaped cleanup duty and was freshly showered. I rolled my eyes and went to my bedroom to put Katie in her bed, then jumped into the shower to wash the smell of crab off my skin.

  Thirty minutes later, I walked back into a practically empty living room.

  “Where did the guys go?” I asked Mom.

  “They’re out on the balcony,” she replied, her crochet needle working furiously.

  I moved toward the balcony, but low arguing voices stopped me in my tracks. What the hell is going on? Shane leaned against the railing with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face while Cole chewed him out.

  “What the hell is going on?” I demanded, sliding the door open. Cole stopped mid-sentence and threw his hands in the air.

  “Nothing, just old bullshit,” Shane moved passed me and slapped his faded red cap on his head. “Ready?”

  “Yeah. Are you coming Cole?”

  “Yep. Rick’s staying here with your mom. I think she promised him apple turnovers.”

  After saying goodbye, the three of us trooped downstairs, climbed into the SUV, and made our way down Coastal Highway to the inlet, where the infamous boardwalk awaited us. With two amusement parks, games, and all the junk food you can think of, it’s my favorite place in the world. After finding a place to park—the summertime crowds were larger than I remembered from previous years — we were bumped and jostled every which way.

  We reached the boardwalk and I inhaled the tantalizing aromas of funnel cake, caramel corn, and taffy. I grabbed Shane’s hand and pulled him into the line for the fried yumminess.

  “Have I told you how much I love you?” I asked with a big smile, wrapping my arms around him.

  His hazel eyes danced as he caught my stare. “Not recently, no.”

  “Well, I love you so much. And I’m low on cash, so you get to buy me a funnel cake,” I teased, tucking my hands into his back pockets. My hand grazed something small and plastic. “What’s this?” I pulled back, taking the object with me. To my horror, I held a small plastic bag filled with white powder.

  Please tell me this isn’t what I think it is. Thanks to a field trip prank in high school, I had taken a mandatory drug and alcohol class, so I was well versed on what the white powder substance could be. What the hell? Why does he have coke in his pocket? Is he using? Dealing? Hundreds of scenarios ran through my head.

  “What is this?” I asked in a low voice. Shane cursed and pulled me out of the line and into the shadows outside the arcade.

  “Baby, I …” he struggled for the words, the excuses.

  “Baby nothing. What the fuck are you doing with coke?” My body tensed, ready for a fight. Of all the harebrained shit he’s pulled through the year, having coke on him was the worst.

  “It’s not mine,” he said in a rush, “I’m meeting this girl…”

  “You’re meeting a girl? What the fuck? Why?”

  “Will you let me finish? It’s for the case. We had set up a buy to go down this weekend. This chick I was going to meet was willing to travel here for the deal. That’s why I was on the phone earlier.” For the case my ass.

  “You’re making a drug deal on our vacation? Are you kidding me right now? Why the hell would you even consider doing something like that?” I seethed, balling my fists. The urge to deck him for his stupidity was overwhelming -- it was everything I could do to maintain some control.

  “Why the hell do you think Tommy and the crew were so easy to convince that we needed to come here? This chick is dating Christian Cruz’s son. If I can get to her, finesse her a bit, get something going, she’ll lead us right to him. They said that the only way we could come here was if I agreed to the buy. But something came up. The chick I was supposedly meeting is still in New York so the buy was canceled.” He stood, towering over me. No matter. The anger running through my veins made me feel two feet taller.

  “So that’s the real reason you wanted to come up here? You didn’t want to get away with me? To try and get back what we lost? No. It was all for the case.” The bitter taste in my mouth left me nauseated as I tried to keep the tears from falling.

  “I didn’t say that,” he said carefully as he reached for my hand. I yanked it back; I knew once he touched me, my resolve would crumble.

  “Don’t touch me. You’re not allowed to touch me. Start from the damn beginning. I want the truth.” I stepped away from him and crossed my arms.

  “The chick I was meeting is dating Christian’s son – the same son we found out that runs Cruz, Inc., in New York City. But that’s pretty much all we know at this point. We haven’t been able to find him – he’s a ghost. He seems to only exist on paper and this girl was go
ing to be our only link to him. I’ve never met her and she doesn’t know me, so me doing the buy was our best chance at getting any information,” he said in a rush.

  I raised my eyebrow skeptically. “So you expect his son’s girlfriend to agree to a buy with someone she doesn’t know? For someone that’s been in the crew for this long, don’t you find that a least bit suspect? I mean hell Shane, when you were dealing, would you do a buy with a stranger? Without someone introducing you?”

  “No, but we’re getting desperate. They’ve been quiet, Megs. Too quiet. With everything Henrico has told us, and going on historic trends, we should have seen a reaction from the Cartel. But we haven’t seen shit. And you didn’t have to worry; the task force was going to go in as soon as the buy was done.”

  “But why now? After everything we’ve been through, why do you have to do this now?

  Shane rubbed his face in frustration. “Because, Megan, this case isn’t over. Yeah, the informant we have is singing like a bird, but that doesn’t mean we’re free. There are factions of the Cartel out there, dying to get the upper hand and look good for Christian Cruz. We have no solid proof against this jackass and he’s going to stay out of jail until we do. Our family will never be safe until he’s dead.”

  I shook my head, incredulous at the whole situation. “So it’s always going to be this? It’s always going to be drug deals and sneaking behind my back and half-truths?” I gave him a sad smile. “I can’t live like that.”

  “Dammit Meg! You know I don’t want you to live like that. But what can I do? It’s either bring the fight to them or hide at the farm in fear for the rest of our lives. And, dammit, I protect what’s mine! I almost lost you once; I’m not going to lose you again.”

  “It doesn’t have to be you. You don’t have to do this. Let the FBI do their job.”

  “Yes I do! I have to pay those motherfuckers back for everything they did to me. They ruined our lives. They killed Eric. They almost killed you and Katie. This is my retribution. This is my fight!”

  I choked back a sob and covered my mouth with my hand. It wasn’t the words or the tone that scared me the most, it was the look in his eyes. Shane’s eyes burned dark with vengeance. And knowing him, he wouldn’t stop until he got what he needed.

  “I can’t do this,” I whispered as tears coursed down my cheek. “I’m done.” Shane didn’t say a word. I turned and hurried down the street.

  I reached an intersection and was lost in my misery, when I bumped into a hard chest. “Oh, sorry,” I mumbled in apology. Then I looked up. Surprise gave way to fury and I pulled back and slugged Tommy in the gut.

  “Ow Megs, what the hell?” He doubled over. My hand stung but I didn’t care. It felt good to hit him.

  “For having Shane do a buy and for ruining my vacation. I’m done with all this bull shit Tommy. I’m fucking done.”

  I brushed past him and stalked to my SUV, digging through my purse to find my keys.

  Tommy hurried after me. “Megs, wait. I’m sorry it happened while you’re on vacation, but I couldn’t tell him no. We needed to get it done.”

  “What do you mean you ‘couldn’t tell him no’? What kind of an answer is that? Are you or are you not running this case?” I whirled around and poked him in the chest. The contrite look on his face confirmed my suspicions. “Screw you, Tommy. Your work is your first priority. Who cares what happens to those involved, as long as you get credit and the bad guys are taken down.”

  Tommy ran his hand through his blond hair and sighed. “That’s not true. Getting you was my first priority.”

  “Getting me? What the heck are you talking about now?” I muttered as I searched through the mess in my purse and paid him no mind. “Crap, I left my keys at the house.” I didn’t relish the thought of going back to Shane to get the keys, so I turned to walk down the street. I’ll just take the bus.

  “My car’s right here. Do you want a ride somewhere?” Tommy leaned against the black Suburban parked next to me. I rolled my eyes and started walking. With no destination in mind, the primary goal was to put more distance between me and Shane. I needed to clear my head, to think. The asshole didn’t even follow me. Some bad ass protector he is.

  I reached Coastal Highway just as Tommy pulled up. “Come on, let’s get a drink. I want to talk to you anyway.”

  A drink sounded good. In fact, copious amounts of drinks sounded even better. “I don’t want to talk to you Tommy.” The light turned and I took a step to cross the street when something grabbed my purse and yanked me back. Startled, I stumbled and fell into someone’s arms. A sharp pinch in my neck caused me to cry out and I tried to move away, but large tanned arms gripped me tightly.

  “You’re not going anywhere, Megs.” My body heavy, I managed to turn my head toward the voice.

  “Tommy?” my voice slurred and the heaviness in my legs made it impossible for me to stand. Whoever was holding me dragged me over to Tommy’s SUV and tossed me in like a sack of potatoes. I struggled to keep my eye lids open and to stay coherent, but darkness took over.

  Chapter 23

  Oh lord, I have to puke.

  A rocking sensation and the desperate urge to throw up woke me from the haze. I blinked slowly, and then my eyes flew open as the memories of what had happened flooded back. Tommy grabbed me. I had no idea where I was or if Shane knew. Oh my God, Shane! My heart jumped into my throat and I struggled to move my arms but to no avail. They were tied tightly together above my head to posts. Panting, I gulped down the rising bile as the rocking motion continued.

  Gazing around, I took in my surroundings. The plush bed I was on and the shiny wood paneling on the cabin walls all screamed ‘money’. A muffled argument broke out above me and then I heard loud footsteps coming down the stairs. My pulse raced and I tried to maneuver my body off the bed, but I couldn’t budge. A scream built in my lungs but I bit my lip and squeezed my eyes shut, desperate not to announce my consciousness.

  The slow creak of the door opening frayed each of my nerves in anticipation. Despite my best efforts not to, I trembled in fear. The mattress sank under the weight of someone sitting next to me and a rough hand brushed the hair from my face. It took everything I had not to cry out.

  “Megan. It’s time to wake up now. I know you can hear me,” a familiar voice crooned. My gut dropped when I heard Tommy’s voice. The caress of silk in his tone, often used to cajole or placate his witnesses, gave me the same sensation of hearing fingernails on a chalkboard.

  My eyes opened slowly and I looked at my former fiancé with disgust. “Where the hell am I, Tommy? Where’s Shane?”

  “You wanted a vacation right? Well, you’re on vacation,” he replied, helping me sit up. My hands tied awkwardly to the post left me no wiggle room, so I was forced to sit sideways, next to him. “I left Shane in Ocean City. That wasn’t a real vacation anyway. Just a transit point.”

  I swallowed, desperate for some water but too frightened to ask. “Why a transit point?”

  Tommy smiled and brushed another lock of my hair away. “Because, Megs, I needed to get you down here. Someone very important wants to meet you.”

  “Where the hell are we?”

  “Miami Beach.” My fists ached to punch that smug grin off his face but, even as I struggled, the ropes around my wrists tightened. “Up you go, you have someone waiting.” Keeping my hands tied together, he undid the knot on the post and brought me to my feet. Panic set in and I fought against his grip, despite my weakened state.

  “No Tommy, I don’t want to meet anyone. Just let me go. Please let me go,” I pleaded, pushing back on each step.

  “Oh sweet Megan. If only your boyfriend would have listened and left well enough alone, you wouldn’t be in this predicament. But noooo. He had to play the hero and not only survive that explosion, but to come back to town. Hell, even after everything that’s happened since he’s been back – your car accident, the fire, Rachel Morrison’s death – he still stuck around,” Tommy s
neered, his loathing clearly evident in his voice as he dragged me up the short flight of stairs.

  His words shocked my core, turning my stomach. He opened the door and I was blinded by the sun’s white hot glare. Bringing my tied hands up to shield my eyes, I looked over his shoulder. The boat was moored in a marina, the last slip, from what I could tell. Tommy pulled me toward a small group of women, clad in nothing but sarongs and jewels. They sat in a small cluster around a slender, older, bald man, dressed in a white linen suit. Two large men in gray suits and sunglasses and heavy artillery flanked him.

  The man smiled broadly at my arrival, “Megan Connors, how nice of you to join us.” His smile didn’t reach his cold blue eyes.

  Tommy nudged me to say something, but I refused to play this game. I’ve read too many suspense novels and watched too many movies to think that if I begged and pleaded for my life, it would make any difference. I stood there, staring down the older man with my eyes.

  “Thomas, how rude of you. You didn’t introduce us,” he said with a cool glare.

  Tommy coughed. “Of course. Megan, I’d like you to meet Christian Cruz. My father.”

  My mouth gaped open and a gasp of shock came out. Tommy smiled in satisfaction.

  “Oh that’s right, I never told you did I? Christian Cruz is my biological father. When my parents met, my grandparents’ weren’t fond of Dad’s chosen occupation. Needless to say, they were appalled by my conception so they threatened to disown my mother if they married. It didn’t help that by then he was knee deep in the dealings with the Cartel and mafias in New York. Along came Colton Thomas Greene, the rich investment broker. He was sterile and needed an heir to inherit the family fortune. Luckily for him, my mother was pregnant by a man she loved but couldn’t marry. A simple business arrangement. “

  “Ah yes, your grandparents. Bitter old crones,” chuckled Christian, leaning back in his captain’s chair.

  “So you’re his son? The ghost no one could track?”