Back to You: Bad Boys of Red Hook by Robin Kaye Read Free Book Online

know that?”
    “Bree and I are close.”
    Storm fought the urge to put Frankie through a wall to find out just what he meant by that.
    “Give me five minutes to get cleaned up; then maybe we can grab a cup of coffee. Catch up, you know?”
    Storm must have nodded, but he wasn’t sure. He was in a state of shock. Frankie DeBruscio was a paramedic? Storm had always figured he’d be in the state pen, serving multiple life sentences by now. He took a seat as close to the door as possible and rubbed the lump on the back of his head. Maybe Breezy hit him harder than he thought. He wondered if concussions caused hallucinations.
    A few minutes later, Frankie met him by the door. He was built like an oversized fireplug—Storm had a few inches on him, but Frankie still outweighed him by a good fifty pounds. Frankie reached out to shake hands, and Storm didn’t know how to avoid it. They shook, and Frankie shocked him again when he pulled him into a guy hug. “Come on, let me buy you a cup of coffee. I’m off duty and about a quart low.”
    Storm really wasn’t up to socializing with the terror of Red Hook, but he found himself walking out with him. “So, Frankie—”
    Frankie laughed. “I go by Francis now.”
    Storm stopped. “You’re kidding me. You used to beat the shit out of anyone who called you Francis.”
    Francis shrugged and continued on. “Yeah, well, people change.”
    “Funny, I said the same thing last night…or was it this morning? I can’t remember.”
    “Jet lag will do that to a guy. You’re supposed to drink a lot of water. It will help. When did you get in?”
    “Last night…or this morning—”
    “You don’t remember, right?”
    “Maybe I’m trying to forget.”
    “That bad, huh?”
    They went into a Starbucks and ordered. Francis grabbed a large water and tossed it on the counter. “Do you want anything else?”
    “No, coffee’s fine.” Storm pulled out his billfold. “I’ll get it.”
    Francis shook his head. “Nope, this one’s on me. You can buy me a beer the next time I’m in the Crow’s Nest.”
    Maybe the bar hadn’t changed that much after all. “You hang out there?”
    Francis laughed and grabbed their drinks. “Pete pulled me off Logan one time and made me pay for the fifteen stitches Logan needed after the tussle. He said it was either that, or he’d call the cops. He let me work it off at the bar. Your old man’s the one who set me straight—I owe him. I still help out at the Crow’s Nest when I’m not on the job. With four days on and three off, I go in as often as I can. I’ve been helping Bree out a lot since Pete got sick.”
    Storm sat at a round table and shook his head. He never thought he’d be shown up by his archenemy.
    Francis sat across from him and stirred his coffee. “Over the years, Pete showed me all the articles in those sailing magazines about you and the boats you design. He’s so damn proud of you. He has a whole wall at the Crow’s Nest filled with framed pictures and articles following the careers of you and your brothers.” He stopped and looked embarrassed. “Ah hell, why am I telling you that? I’m sure you’ve seen it.”
    “No, I haven’t. I haven’t gotten down to the bar yet. I flew in and went straight home. Bree, Nicki, and I came here first thing.”
    “How’s Pete holding up?”
    Storm shrugged. “Hell, I don’t know. I didn’t even know he was in the hospital until Logan called me a few days ago. I grabbed the first flight out, and I had no idea what I was walking into. It’s surreal.”
    Francis looked at his watch. “How are you getting home?”
    “I hadn’t thought that far ahead. I just needed some time to wrap my head around this whole thing with Pop and being back.”
    “I called my wife and told her we were stopping for coffee, but she’s got a hair appointment in an hour, so I have the kids. Let me give you a lift home; it’s on the way.”
    “You’re married?”
    “Do you remember Patrice