Chapter Seventeen
July was nearly over, bringing with it the kind of weather the Catskills were known for.
With minimal rain, the long, lazy days of sun and heat meant that tourist dollars flowed into town and kept the local cash registers ringing.
Rentals were up, and the lake was dotted with boats, while downtown parking was filled with the kind of expensive vehicles most townies couldn’t afford.
Gus had taken advantage of the weather, and the cottages were coming along nicely.
If momentum held, he figured they would finish mid-August, a few weeks ahead of Labor Day weekend, which was his original date.
He stood back and admired his handiwork.
There was something to be said about putting in a full day of physical labor, using your hands to make something.
He’d just finished rebuilding the dock the last two cottages shared and rolled his neck as the sound of hammers and voices echoed through the trees.
Walker and the crew were hard at work repairing the roofs on numbers three and four.
Shirtless, he grabbed his T-shirt off the dock and wiped the sweat from his face, eyes on the water. It glistened beneath the bright sun, the cool depths beckoning.
“Fuck it,” he thought before taking off his work boots. He doffed his shorts, which left him in a pair of black boxers, then walked to the edge of the dock and dove in.
The water was heavenly. Despite the heat, it was cool and refreshing, and he swam out a bit before floating on his back.
It wasn’t yet noon, and the lake was busy.
He heard the boats that skimmed across the surface and the screams of the kids on tubes and skis, and he closed his eyes.
The last memory he had of this lake was fishing.
Early morning. Just before dawn. He and Ford and their father.
Funny. Up until recently, it was a memory he’d never had, and a part of him wondered if it was real. Maybe he was getting soft. Maybe he should stop spending every night in Faith’s bed. Maybe it was too much good for a man not used to it.
He grinned, turned over, and disappeared beneath the cool water.
He and Faith had fallen into a routine of sorts.
She worked full-time hours at The Dock while he spent his days out here.
When she served the dinner shift, he generally stopped in and ate at the bar, then the two of them left together.
When Faith had a day off on the weekend, they spent the morning in bed, then drove out of town.
It wasn’t so much that he was afraid of running into his sister and having to explain her to Faith, but more that he wanted her all to himself. She was smart and funny as hell with a biting wit, an insane knowledge of pop culture, and a love for Celine Dion that was unparalleled.
She was also amazing in bed. He was pretty damn sure that the sex they were having was the best he’d ever had. And that was saying something, considering he’d had his fair share over the years. But since meeting Faith, he hadn’t so much as looked at another woman.
They both knew this thing between them had an expiration date, and he should be good with that. Why wouldn’t he be? He wasn’t a relationship guy. He’d seen first-hand how love could destroy, and he’d rather live this life solo than go through that kind of hell.
But he was starting to think it would be a lot harder giving her up than he’d first thought. Even Iris knew this was different and was chomping at the bit to meet her. Imagine that. His little sister was more interested in meeting this mystery woman than her own flesh and blood.
He frowned and headed back to the dock. His family situation was getting more complicated, and he still wasn’t sure how he wanted it to play out. He still hadn’t read the files Dozer prepared on the Boone family.
Sunday wasn’t around much — she’d taken a dislike to Walker that his buddy was taking personally.
But Ford and his son were living at the lake.
Hell, he’d had beers with Ford a couple of nights back while Benjamin fished off the edge of the dock.
Just this morning, he’d seen the two of them taking Porter to an appointment in the city.
It was weird watching his family from the outside with them none the wiser. And a part of him felt guilty about it. That same part had so many questions that normally he’d have no problem asking. So, what had changed?
Gus hauled himself out of the water and got to his feet. He squeezed water from his boxers, then padded over to his clothes. Guess he hadn’t thought things through well enough because he sure as shit couldn’t pull on his shorts with wet boxers.
With a sigh, he dropped to his butt and grabbed his cell phone.
He’d let the sun dry him up for a few minutes before he got back at it.
There was a missed call from his brother, Harrison, and three missed calls from his mother.
Fuck me, he thought. He knew his time was up. He couldn’t ignore her any longer.
He called her back, and she answered before it had a chance to ring — or at least it felt that way.
“Where are you?”
“No hello?” He sat back and closed his eyes, mentally preparing himself for the shitstorm that was about to happen. And it was coming. He heard it in her tone.
“Harry has a key to your place.”
“Is that a question?”
“Don’t be a smartass.”
“Sorry.”
“I have it now.”
Gus’s eyes flew open, and he got to his feet. “And?”
“You’re not here.”
“I told you that I was out of the country.” Shit, this lying crap was becoming second nature. That one flew out of his mouth like he’d launched a grenade.
“I collected your mail.”
“Most of it’s junk, but thanks for that.”
“You have an invitation to some fancy shindig at The Prestige which I believe is a private club.”
“Okay?” He scratched his head, wondering where his mother was going with this.
“I’m sure it cost a small fortune to belong to this club.”
She had no idea. But it was a smart business move and the contacts he’d made since joining, more than made up for the initial investment.
“The postmark on this invitation was from late May.”
“Mom—”
“You haven’t been home in months. You don’t call that much and when you do you keep them short and avoid answering questions.
Like you’re putting in time. I know you’re hiding something.
Are you going to tell me what it is, or do I go downtown and find Dozer and make him tell me?
He’s a big guy but his balls are small, and he’ll crumple faster than a junkie wanting a hit. ”
Mother. Fucker. He was going to kill Harry when he saw him.
“And while we’re on the subject, I know your sister was here because she left clothes on the floor in your guest bedroom. That girl has never learned to pick up after herself. Do want to explain that as well? Because according to our family group chat, she’s in Boston.”
Gus closed his eyes and shook his head slowly.
As a SEAL, he’d seen and done things . .
. dealt with the kind of monsters who would make most men shake in their boots.
He’d carried out those missions with calm assuredness and brutal intent.
Yet his mother could penetrate his defenses with the kind of ease those criminals would have paid big bucks for.
“I’ll fly out at the end of the week.”
“I’m in DC now.”
“Stay at my place and I’ll see you on Saturday.”
Silence greeted his words, and for a moment, he thought she’d hung up. “You’re okay, right?” She’d always done her best to be strong. To not show fear to her children. But this time she made no attempt to hide her concern, and it made him feel even more like a shit.
“I’m good, Mom. Hang tight I’ll text you the flight details as soon as I have them.”
“And your sister?” She spoke so softly that he barely heard her.
He couldn’t lie anymore. “She’s with me.”
“Okay. Good. I love you.”
“I know. Me too.”
Gus pocketed his phone and slowly pulled on his shorts. His boxers were still damp, but he had a list of shit to get to, including arranging a trip to DC. What the hell was he going to tell his mother?
He decided to take the coward’s way out and push it to the back of his mind. He’d deal with it later. In the meantime, he had to head to town and pick up lunch for the guys and then work on the last kitchen in cottage four.
It was Tuesday, which meant half-price chicken wings at The Dock and the Mets game on the big screen.
It also meant Faith. He’d focus on the good stuff coming his way and take the next day to figure out the rest. It seemed as if he was going to have to deal with his family sooner rather than later, and with the cottage renos ahead of schedule, his mission was about to end.
And he had no idea what that would look like.
His cell phone pinged. He glanced down at the text from Walker.
Add a couple more burgers to the order. The guys have worked up an appetite.
Gus drove to town and parked in front of the diner. He knew their business dipped during the summer months, and he’d been calling in lunch orders since he’d hired his crew. There were a few tables inside, but other than that, the place was empty. Tully smiled when he walked in.
“We need about fifteen minutes for your order if that’s okay?”
He nodded. “I’ve got something to do. I’ll come back.”
Gus took a right and crossed the street.
If he remembered correctly, there was a bookstore a block up.
He found Turn the Page a few moments later, walked inside, and was immediately greeted by a man who introduced himself as Bill Dawson, the owner.
The guy was middle-aged with a balding head, large, black-framed glasses, and a paunch that hung over his tightly belted slacks.
It was hot as hell outside, but he wore a beige cardigan over a blue button-up shirt.
“Are you looking for anything in particular?”