AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“We’ll do fifty,” says Philip, “If we’re going to rob you.”
“Deal.”
* * *
“We got taken by a damn girl pool shark,” Forrest says, sprawling in his seat. “You have to show me that move.”
“And how the fuck did you get so good? Mack says you’re kinda sheltered.”
I give Philip a hard look. That’s code for him calling me a princess. “College.”
I stopped because what was fun at twenty-one—going to see bands with your musician boyfriend, or seeing bands he was in, and then playing pool as a way to keep people at arm’s length—stopped being fun at twenty-two.
Philip grins. “You could have gone legit.”
“I wanted the Cool Hand Luke vibe.” I pause. “Wait. Do I mean The Hustler?”
“The last one,” Forrest says with a laugh. “Oh, man, have you beat Mack yet?”
“No, I haven’t played him.”
Philip drags his chair closer and hands me my drink from the round Forrest bought. “We’ll double the bet if you play him and don’t tell him you’re good.”
“He’ll lose it.” Forrest snickers. “He thinks he’s the best here.”
Philip looks at me. “Actually, something tells me he’ll be just fine with it. So, we got a deal?”
I’m not planning to play pool with Mack. I’m not planning on anything but getting my car back. But I find myself saying, “Deal.”
* * *
They insist on walking me up to where Leland lives, and I wave them off. I don’t want to encroach on the two lovebirds, but it’s getting late, and I’m not tired.
As soon as the two big men are gone, I decide to go for a walk. This isn’t New York, and I’m safe there, walking around. This should be safer than anything.
And it’s not like I’m alone. A couple of people are on walks, one or two walk their dogs. I see a teenager skulking the way teens do. He looks a little forlorn, like he wants to cause trouble, but there isn’t any.
The town’s beautiful with its wide streets, the backdrop of hills and mountains and not even the very occasional very faint whiff of stale smoke can ruin that.
I pull my phone out. It’s eleven p.m., and I should head back soon.
A shiver runs through me. This nomadic existence isn’t for me. I’m not a couch surfer. I’m not a pool shark. I’m not anything other than someone who has their own little business, a carefully built savings, and a small inheritance that came from Vic. It was hers, and she added to it for me, and she said she wanted me to have it now and not when she was dead and gone.
A car rumbles down the street, bringing home the quietness of the town. In the houses I pass light spills out, and the main street is pretty at night with the lit up empty shops and businesses.
And Mack . . . he’s home. He just ran off, didn’t give me a chance—if I wanted one—to explain.
Maybe it’s the alcohol, but I’m getting mad. He should have fought. He should have just . . . I don’t know, not accepted what I said.
I stop in the middle of the pavement.
I want him to see I’m worth it. To fight for me. I’m not even sure what that means or what I want, but the whiskey and bourbon in me sure do.
Dragging the piece of paper out of my bag, I look at the address. I pull out my phone and use the directions app. I’m almost on top of his place.
So, shoving everything back into my bag I march off, high on drunkenness and bad ideas.
When I get there, I storm up the steps and ring his bell.
