Page 59 of Acadia Falls

“Speaking of taking care of things.” I nodded toward the harbor. Trey and Cuddy appeared on the horizon. Their boat was headed directly for the co-op.

I cracked my knuckles.

“You boys causing trouble?” Ralph asked.

I shrugged. “Aren’t we always?”

The old man got a twinkle in his eye. “That’s the Brennans I know. Just don’t get blood on the dock, you hear? I already started cleaning up for the day.” He sauntered back toward the co-op entrance and leaned against the door, ready to take in the anticipated spectacle.

“You ever notice that Ralph is the nosiest guy on the island? And also that he starts closing up at eleven a.m. every day? Then he’s yellin’ at you for spilling fish guts, even though it’s before noon.” Tommy rolled his eyes.

“I heard that!” the old man barked.

“Fine by me.” Tommy crossed his arms against his chest.

Trey and Cuddy headed for the dock—they didn’t see us until it was too late. Cuddy’s expression was almost comical, his mouth hanging open as they pulled up and parked their boat. He and Trey looked at each other. If they drove away now, the whole island would be talking. Everyone would say they were cowards, too chicken to take on the Brennan boys.

They cut the motor. I cracked my knuckles.

Cuddy threw down their bumpers; Trey jumped out and tied them up. Cuddy followed him onto the dock, wiping his tattooed hands on his dirty black jeans. They looked at us warily.

Tommy and I blocked the entrance to the co-op. We didn’t move as they headed toward us.

“Watcha standing there for?” Cuddy asked in his nasally, high-pitched voice.

“We just wanted to say hello.” Tommy took a step toward him. “Because, you know, it’s been a while.”

“Get the hell out of our way.” Trey came up behind Cuddy.

“What, no haul today?” I peered past them to their boat, where their stack of traps stood empty. “Do you guys actually suck that bad?”

Trey got closer. “There weren’t any bugs this morning. You’d know that if you’d gotten off your ass and fished.”

“Bugs” were what some of the fishermen called the lobsters. I wasn’t one of them—the term had always annoyed me. It seemed disrespectful. “You didn’t catch any lobsters because you’re fucking clueless.”

“Why do you care?” Trey gave me a sly half-grin. “Been wondering why you keep following me around. I guess I got under your skin, huh? Maybe you think I got something you don’t.”

“Chlamydia?” I blinked at him. “Leprosy?”

“Shut up, dingus.”

“Dingus?” I chuckled. “That’s one I haven’t heard in a while.”

Trey puffed his chest out. “Why don’t you just get out of the way, you stupid mother⁠—”

But I didn’t let him finish. I threw myself at him, my fist connecting with his jaw, and then all hell broke loose. Tommy jumped Cuddy, wrestling him to the ground.

Trey started fighting back—he was stronger than he looked, the wiry fucker. Not that I minded. It felt good to fight. I was so mad, and it had little to actually do with my opponent. He hit me in the nose, and blood spurted out, but I didn’t care. I went after him, fists flying, each hit landing harder than the last.

Trey could tell that I meant business. He quickly threw up his arms to protect his face, but I didn’t stop pummeling him, cursing as I went. “You tried to drown me, motherfucker! You cut my lines! I will end you!”

Tommy had Cuddy in a chokehold. Everyone around us was yelling, even Ralph. But the tone changed from show ’em what’s what! To okay, boys, that’s enough! pretty quick.

I heard crying through the haze of haymakers I was firing into Trey’s face. Wailing. “You crying like a little bitch, Trey?” I stopped hitting him for long enough to inspect him. His nose was bleeding, and his eye was swollen shut again, but he wasn’t crying.

“Daddy, make them stop!” Wailed a little girl watching from the other dock. “They’re going to kill them!”

I turned and saw Tommy with his forearms around Cuddy’s throat—Cuddy’s eyes were bulging out, and he was weakly clutching at my brother’s arms, to no avail. “That’s enough, Tommy.”