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Mama nods slowly, and swallows back something that might have been an impending crying fit. Funny how weak she can be when her own brain turns against her. When it comes to Dad, she can put on a strong face like no one’s business. Maybe we only have so much... maybe that’s where she spends all of her strength and resolve.
“I ran him off, you know,” Mama sighs, waving at her prone form under the hospital blanket and at the room around us. “With all this. With my… nervousness. I’m sorry he wasn’t around for you, Janie. Sorry that I made him leave.”
“Don’t say that, Mama,” I chide her. “I never felt that way. We’re all responsible for our own decisions.”
Mama isn’t buying it, I can tell. She’d much rather heap the responsibility on herself than admit it had nothing to do with her. Even if her attacks had anything to do with it, it wasn’t her fault and I really believe that. I want to be connected to Dad, but I’m not naive about him—he left because it was too much for him, and it was too much because he wasn’t the man he should have been. Parents are human too, weak and fallible like the rest of us.
“Get some rest, Mama,” I tell her as her eyes droop closed anyway. “It’s his loss. It always has been.”
She probably doesn’t hear that part. Her eyes close, and she’s sleeping peacefully from the sedatives in her system.
I lean back in the hospital room chair and watch her sleep, wishing I could make it all better.
Chapter 15
Jake
It takes an effort to stop grinding my teeth as I step through the doors of Red Hall for the second time. This time, it will go better than before. I know that. It’s all pla
nned out. Still, I’m unreasonably nervous going into the place. Why is it so slow in here? There can’t be more than forty or fifty people scattered around the lounge, and the last time I saw the place it had to have been in the hundreds.
That makes it so much worse, but I approach the bar anyway. What choice do I have? I never really needed to set aside anything like a nest egg. I’m Reginald’s only heir, and I’ve seen his will. Well, the original version anyway. No telling what it says now. The only business idea I ever had was—
No time to waste thinking about that right now. Not when I see Janie across the room and feel my stomach tighten. Or first meeting comes rushing back to me: the smell of her, the closeness of her body when we danced. The need that started to kindle at the base of my dick. I feel awful thinking about that now, but can’t help the fact that I’m looking forward to sweeping her off her feet, giving her something, even for a little while, to take her mind off of all of this.
I can do this.
She hasn’t seen me yet, and that’s fine. She’ll see me soon enough. So I go to the bar and lean casually on it, waving fingers at the bartender… is it Chester? I’m pretty sure it is.
Chester sees me, and pulls a face. Aha. So, I’m on some kind of watch list now. He quickly scans the crowd, probably looking for Janie.
His eyes stop searching, though, and he pales as he stares at one of the patrons at the bar, a guy in a cheap suit and large sunglasses, and a bag that he’s laying quietly on the bar. Chester isn’t staring at the man’s face, or his suit, or even the bag, though—he’s staring at the handgun. The man’s lips move, he’s telling Chester not to make a scene, to fill the bag up with whatever cash is behind the bar. Even with a crowd this small, it’s likely thousands of dollars.
Careful not to draw too much attention, I approach the man. I don’t move too quickly, and I keep my hands in sight. He glances at me, freezes, and angles himself so he can train his gun on either Chester or me without moving too far. A professional, it looks like.
“Making a mistake,” I say to the robber.
“Shut up,” the man says. “Don’t fucking talk.”
Chester is taking the bag from the counter. “It’s okay,” he says. “I’ll get the money, all right? Just don’t… just don’t shoot. I’m getting the money, but I have to duck down here to get it, okay?”
The man’s lips twitch nervously, and he waves the gun a little. “Fine. Go, get it. I’m watching you.”
So are several other people now. They’re not moving, just watching. I can’t tell if Janie is or not. If this goes badly, she could be in real danger. But all I can do is what I need to.
“Man, listen to me,” I say. “This whole place is full of cameras. It’s a high-profile lounge. There’s no way you’ll get away with that cash very far. How much is it gonna be? Five, six thousand dollars? Is that worth the years they’ll put you away for?”
“Shut up,” the robber says, and twitches the gun toward me. “Just shut up. Don’t make me do anything I’m gonna regret.”
There she is. I can see Janie out of the corner of my eye. She’s storming toward us, furious. Maybe she doesn’t realize? I spare a look toward her, and our eyes meet. Slowly, I shake my head, and hold a hand out to stall her, then I point at the robber where he can’t see me but she can, and curl three fingers in to make a gun.
Janie freezes in her steps, and her gaze shifts to the man with the gun. From her angle she can’t see it, but she’s too smart to take chances like that.
I inch just a little closer, almost in arm’s reach now. “You don’t have to do this, guy,” I say, monotone, calm, careful not to set him off. “If you put that gun away, and leave now, no one will call the cops. Think about it—you get a second chance. Who gets that? I’ll go with you, and we can talk about what’s going on, what brought you to this point. I got a lot of money, okay? Maybe I can help. It would be better that way, wouldn’t it?”
“No,” the man says. “No, I don’t want your strings. It’s better this way. This place is hoppin’, every night. They’ll make it back. This is chump change. Don’t fucking move!”
He twitches the gun toward me further, now almost pointing it at me. Chester is frozen in place behind the bar, his eyes shut tight. He’s afraid. Genuinely terrified of being shot. And why not?
