Hustle Me (Bank Shot Romance #1)(9)
Author: Jennifer Foor

"Unbelievable! My whole life just got turned upside down. Can you please just not joke for ten seconds?"

"Sorry, but I don’t see the problem. You just inherited a freaking tavern with a studio apartment. Do you have any idea how amazing that is? I mean, I would give my left nut for that shit."

I cocked my eyebrow. "You don’t even have a left nut."

"Well if I did, I would give it up." She corrected.

I got out of the car and started pacing around the lot. This was a clusterfuck!

Elle hopped out and leaned against the car. "Charlie, are you really going to be okay with knowing that you have a real blood relative out there and you did nothing to protect them from living the same kind of shitty childhood that you had to?"

I leaned against the car and threw my hands in the air. "What am I supposed to do? I don’t know the first thing about taking care of a kid or running a bar."

"Maybe not, but you know what not to do and that’s a good start. Look, I can’t tell you what to do but, you’re going to regret not at least getting to know that kid. At least give it a chance before you say no." She was going to keep pushing me, like she did with everything I wanted to do or not do.

"I didn’t ask for this, Elle."

She put her arm around me and kissed my cheek. "No, you didn’t, but you got it anyway. This could be good, if you just give it a chance. Look at it this way, you don’t have to get to know the man that gave you up. That makes it ten times easier to begin with."

"I hate how you twist things around to sound better when they really aren’t. This kid could be awful. He could have something wrong with him. His mother was an addict for Christ sakes."

She put her hands on her hips and looked right at me. "Stop making excuses and walk your ass back in there. Tell that hottie lawyer that you want to meet your brother and take a look at the property. Oh, and give him my number before you come back out. I’d love to see what he looks like out of that suit."

"You are a terrible friend." I said as I walked back into the building.

One week later I was moving into my new life and taking on the responsibility of raising my little four year old brother, Ryan. Elle had been right, he was the cutest little guy and after spending five seconds with him, there was no way that I could have let him go into the same system that tortured me for years.

The tavern was easy to reopen, but after the first week, everyone quit on me. I had no idea how to run it on my own. I was left with one employee that was at least eighty years old. This guy loved Joe so much that he hated me for being so angry over everything. He worked the day shift four days out of the week and the rest was up to me. Thankfully, he did take the time to give me a brief training so I didn’t set the building on fire, or poison someone, but I was struggling to say the least.

After my first week, things got even worse when these two thugs came in asking for money that I didn’t have. They claimed my father had taken out a fifty thousand dollar loan and never paid. The guy he borrowed from wanted the fifty G’s and interest for the arrears. Since I didn’t have it, they came back a few days later asking again. If it hadn’t been for that damn guy interfering, I don’t know what would have happened, but one thing I did know was that his stupidity had caused me to fear for mine and Ryan’s safety. Yeah, he was hot…and a definite player, but I didn’t have time for jerks in my new life. I had a kid and business and now people were after me. If I never saw that guy again it would be too soon.

Chapter 6

Jammer

Maybe I should have told her that I was John, but she had herself in a nervous wreck over those guys. I don’t know what Joker could have been involved with to get people showing up to threaten a poor girl, that didn’t even know her ass from her face. I guess since the economy was bad, he must of had to borrow money to stay afloat. Unfortunately, I know all about that business since that’s what my father did behind closed doors. He claimed he was helping out the community, but that was a bunch of bullshit.

Baltimore was a huge city with enough banks to fund any project or consolidation necessary. Even the people with bad credit could find ways around using my crooked father to save their business. In fact, they were never saving it, they were prolonging the inevitable. After time, three quarters of them couldn’t pay and would have to hand over the business to people like my dad. It was ridiculous, but because he had built such a reputation doing it, nobody spoke up and did anything to prevent it from happening to anyone else. The vicious circle of small business takeovers in Baltimore continued happening right under everyone’s noses.

I drove to a bar across town and already recognized a shooter’s car in the parking lot. Timothy (Tippy) Savage was a year younger than me and also a Baltimore native. We didn’t grow up together, but we did have several friends in common. Like me, pool kept him occupied and out of trouble. He didn’t travel around from state to state like I did and he played people fair. They knew before they started that he was a good ass shooter.

I walked into the bar and as the door jingled, I saw a few guys looking up at me. "Look at what the cat drug in. Jammer, what the hell are you doing in here? Thought you were all big time, hustling in Atlantic City and shit."

I walked up and shook hands with Tippy. It was actually good to see his scrawny ass. "Don’t get all scared I’m not going to take all your money, I came back to see someone."

He patted me on the shoulder. "Did you knock someone up? Come back for a paternity test?"

I shook my head and scrunched up my face. "Fuck you, man, I keep my shit double wrapped. That’s never going to happen. I came back here to see a guy I used to live with. The one that taught me everything I know."

"The one that taught you how to be g*y?"

"Fuck you, I’m not like you. I like pu**y."

"Touché." Tippy bent over and made a straight in bank shot. "You come here to lose some money, or run your mouth all night?"

"You can’t hang at my level. Hell, you can’t even make a kick shot. Who else is in town? Any big shooters?" I looked around the bar and didn’t see anyone else that I recognized.

"Nah, I got a match lined up for ten tonight. You should hang out. You might learn something." I liked how he thought he was the world’s greatest player, but refused to play me for even a hundred.

"Yeah, I’d love to watch you get a beat down."

"Shit, I guarantee I am going to leave here with full pockets, bitch. I don’t know why you keep doubting my skills."

I started walking away from his table. "I guess we’ll find out if you’ve improved at ten tonight." I preferred the back table to every bar. It gave me the best vantage point of anyone coming in and always a little more privacy than being surrounded by tables. Nowadays, if I wasn’t playing someone for money in my pocket, I was just shooting around for fun. It was important that you never show your real skill level when shooting around on a practice table. Doing that could be the death of the hustle. If the wrong person saw your ability then word would travel and nobody would be willing to play.