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“Me, too.” Chance turns to me. “I play lousy when I’m drinking.”
“You got it.” Jed pours our drinks.
“Put it on my tab.” Chance grabs the icy glasses and passes one to me. “We’re going to take table six.”
“Enjoy.” Jed turns to another customer.
Chance and I head to the table, and I ignore the glare from Peterson. I don’t have it in me to deal with him tonight.
“How are you at eight-ball?” Chance asks.
“Okay.”
I take a look at the table. Four by eight. Regulation size. Most pool halls have smaller seven-foot tables. I look for a coin slot and find none. It’s free to play. Strange. Whoever Mikey is, he clearly owns this place outright and earns his keep off the drinks.
“You want to break?” I ask.
“I’ll rack.” Chance grabs the triangle. “You do the honors.”
I scan the pool cues on the wall and weigh a few in my hands until I find the one that feels right. I chalk the tip and break, sending the five ball into a side pocket.
“Guess I’m solids,” I say.
I continue to pocket solids and then the eight ball to successfully obliterate Chance in the first game before he even gets a turn.
“What the hell?” My brother stares at the table, eyes wide. “You said you were”—air quote—“okay?”
“One of my mom’s husbands was a hustler.” I rack the balls for the second game. “Taught me everything I know.”
“You know hustling’s illegal, right?” he mutters.
“Did I ask you to play for money?”
“Sorry. I guess I should have mentioned that Peterson over there is kind of a staple at Mikey’s. He’s known as the best pool player in town.”
I chuckle. “So?”
“Hehustles here, although not much any longer since he’s run out of people to take money from. The cop bends the rules to suit himself. Man, it’d piss him off if you beat his ass. He’s undefeated as far as I know.”
This time I grin. I can see the interest in Chance’s voice to take the fucker down a notch or two. “Until now,” I reply.
“Bro, you want to break the law with a cop?”
“I can’t hustle formoney,” I clarify.
“What the hell is going on in that warped mind of yours?”
“I’m not sure yet. But maybe we can get him off our backs.”
Chance shakes his head. “That’s a bad idea. Peterson is still the law around here.”
“So I spend a night in jail. Shankle can bail my ass out. It would be worth it.”
Chance grins. “Yeah, it fucking would. But then Peterson will be so far up our asses we won’t be able to shit right.”
He has a point. “Fine. It's your turn to break.” I rack the balls.
“I think I need a handicap.”
