Hustle Me

by Jennifer Foor

  A pool stick was his prize possession?

  “My little brother wakes up early. I hope you don’t plan on sleeping in.” I almost wanted to laugh at the way I talked to him. I knew I was being a bitch and I just couldn’t stop myself.

  I got halfway down the hall, when I heard him calling me. “Charlie, can you say one kind thing? I am starting to think that I am helping Satan’s daughter. It’s kind of creepy.”

  I let out an air filled laugh. “Thank you for saving me again. I don’t hate you as much as I did before.” I turned around and headed back to my bedroom.

  Jammer may not have been a complete stranger, but I still didn’t feel safe. Hell, I should have been accustomed to this by now. Half of my life, I’d lived with strangers. When you are moved from foster homes, everyone is basically a stranger. Even though Jammer had saved me, I still had to be cautious. It was how I was wired and I had a child to keep safe.

  Once I got my pajamas on, I went in and carried Ry into my room to sleep with me. With the bedroom door locked, I cuddled up next to my brother and tried to finally relax. We were safe. The tavern was locked up and our place was locked up.

  I could hear Jammer snoring in the other room and a sense of security washed over me. I’d just been through something so traumatic, and I would never admit this to him, but I felt safe with him staying with us. He’d even offered to help me out at nights at the bar.

  He probably needed a place to crash and figured that helping me was like paying rent. At this point, I didn’t even care. I started to cry again, but finally fell asleep from exhaustion.

  When I woke up to the smoke detector going off and found the bed next to me empty, I shot out of my bed. My heart began racing as I made it to the kitchen. Ryan was sitting on the counter, while a shirtless Jammer was fanning the smoke away from the detector with a towel. They both turned when they saw me standing there. I waited for the thing to stop beeping before I tried to talk.

  “What is going on?”

  “I asked Jammer to make me pancakes,” Ryan explained.

  Jammer shrugged. “I tried.”

  Let me just say that it was very hard for my sleepy mind to work when I got a look at that man’s upper body. Not only was he built good, but his tattoos were sexy as hell. When he cleared his throat, I knew he caught me checking him out. I looked up quickly. “It would be great if you didn’t burn down our home while you’re staying here.” I shook my head and walked back into my bedroom.

  When I got to my bathroom mirror, I’d liked to have died from my appearance.

  I could hear the guys in the kitchen talking about my face, as I stood there seeing it for myself. One eye was totally black. My nose was swollen and my other eye had a purple ring underneath of it. My hair looked like a rat nested in it and my tank top let the whole world know that it was a little bit chilly.

  “Oh my God,” I cried.

  How much worse could my life get?

  I got myself dressed, including a bra, and made my way out to the kitchen. Jammer slid me a cup of coffee. “I took a guess and gave you cream and sugar.”

  I grabbed the cup and took a sip. It tasted perfect and I hated that he’d guessed right. I didn’t want to be friends with this jerk, but the more I tried to hate him, the more I didn’t.

  This was going to be a problem.

  A big one.

  Chapter 12

  Jammer

  What the hell had I gotten myself into?

  Coming back to town was going to be the worst mistake of my life, I could just see it. For the second night in a row, Charlie had been threatened and, for whatever reason, I had been around to save her. If that wasn't giving me reason enough to stay and help her, the guilt of almost walking away was.

  Charlie was the most stubborn person I think I had ever met. It was very clear how much she loathed getting help from me. It actually intrigued me more to do it. I liked the way I could piss her off by just talking. I didn't know anything about the girl, but I could tell that she didn't take shit from anyone. I admired that in a woman, but I also got the feeling that, in order for her to be that way, she'd had a terrible life so far.

  Last night, telling her I was going to stay and work for her, had been a compulsive decision based on me thinking I could somehow be this hero that I clearly wasn't. I wanted to back out immediately. The last thing I wanted was another reason to stay in town. When Charlie not only agreed, but took me upstairs and showed me the guest room, I just couldn't leave.

  Even though I was back in that little twin bed I used to sleep in, I had the best night’s sleep in years.

  Since I'd lived in the apartment before, I knew where to find all the things to make coffee. I had just poured in the water and hit brew when the little boy came out. "Hey, what are you doing in my house?"

  "My name is Jammer and I am going to be helping out your sister for a little while. So, what's your name?"

  "Ryan Joseph McNally, but my sister calls me Ry." The kid had his father’s eyes. I felt so guilty not telling Charlie that not only did I know her father, but I also lived in this apartment with him.

  I held out my hand and shook his. "It's nice to meet you, Ry. So how long does your sister usually sleep?"

  He shrugged. "I usually wake her up, but sometimes it makes her a meanie head."

  I couldn't help but laugh at his comment. "So she gets grumpy?" It wasn't hard to believe. She never smiled.

  "A lot! Hey, can you make me pancakes?"

  I wasn't exactly good at cooking. I'd never had to be. It couldn't be that hard. "I can try. Will you still eat them if they taste like shi... Err, I mean crap."

  "You were going to say a bad word."

  "Yeah, I guess I have to be more careful. I'm not really used to being around kids." I also wasn’t used to having a job, or living with people.

  "It's okay, I hear a lot of bad words. Daddy said them sometimes. I could hear him saying them when he was working in his shop. Did you know that my daddy liked to play pool? He was the best player in the whole universe."

  I laughed a little and began mixing the batter up for the pancakes. "Do you like to play pool, kid?"

  His legs were hanging over the counter and he was steady swinging them back and forth. "Yeah, but Charlie doesn't like it. She says it’s too loud."

  I could see where she would complain about everything. I had poured the batter in the pan, but our conversation distracted me and the next thing I knew, the whole room was smokey and the smoke alarm started blaring. I grabbed a towel and started fanning it at the ceiling, trying to get it to go off. Ryan covered his ears and began laughing, while I fought to get the damn thing to shut up.

  All of my attempts didn’t work, as Charlie came walking out of the bedroom looking like death. She had two black eyes and her nose was swollen. Aside from her face being beaten, her little body was still smoking.

  It became obvious, at first glance, that she was not wearing a bra. In fact, her nipples were so hard, they were begging me to look. I swear it.

  Just as I was looking at her, I caught her looking at me. I guess I should have thrown on a shirt, but this was all so new to me.

  "What’s going on?" My eyes got real big. This wasn't going to be good.

  "I asked Jammer to make me pancakes." Little Ryan was trying to take up for me.

  "I tried," I admitted.

  "It would be great if you didn't burn down our home while you're staying here."

  When she ran back into her room and shut the door, I had expected her to tell me I had to leave. I grabbed a cup and poured coffee into it. "What does your sister put in her coffee?"

  He shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. Her face looks real bad. What happened to her?"

  I held up the milk and the sugar bowl. "She had an accident last night, but she's okay now. Does she put these in?"

  He shook his head. "Yes, she likes lots of that powder stuff."

  I had to laugh. When someone talked about powder, it was normall
y referring to cocaine, but I knew the kid meant sugar. I made her coffee the same way I took mine and slid it across the counter to her. "I took a guess and gave you cream and sugar."

  She cocked her eyebrow and took her first drink. I was really thinking she was going to get up and pour it out to make her own. She didn't though. She sat down at the counter, with new clothes on and her hair up in a ponytail. "Thanks for this. I hate waiting for it brew."

  I leaned over the counter. "You hate a lot of things, don't you?"

  She looked over at Ryan. "Go get dressed for school, buddy."

  Once he was in his room, she turned around to face me. "Look, don't take this the wrong way, but you and I aren't friends. You don't have to pretend to be nice to me. I know you feel like you have some obligation to help me, even though you don't, but you don't have to make conversation with me."

  "If I'm going to be staying here and working for you, I think you should at least be nice to me. You can go on saying that we aren't friends, but that won't last very long." She could fight me all she wanted. I’d seen her looking at me. I knew the truth. She might hate my attitude, but there were other things she didn't hate.

  "Whatever. If you’re going to be working nights, then we don't have to see much of each other. I mean, I will still work the kitchen from six to ten, but other than that, we can steer clear of one another."

  "I was thinking we'd be inseparable and spend every second together." She looked annoyed at my comment, as usual.

  Ryan came walking out of the bedroom. He had on a Spiderman shirt and jeans. Charlie gave me one more dirty look before taking him into the hall bathroom and getting him cleaned up. When they came out, his hair was combed. Charlie grabbed his bag and walked him outside, but came right back inside. "You're not going to steal anything are you?"

  I stuck my mug in the sink and leaned against the countertop. "I was thinking of stealing all of your underwear and climbing out the window, since you would see me leaving the other way."

  She growled something under her breath and walked out again.

  I knew I was driving her crazy, but I loved it. She got so mad over the smallest things. Once twenty good minutes went by and she hadn't come back, I sat down on the couch and started watching television. My phone kept going off in my room, but I knew it was Tippy asking if I tapped Charlie. I wasn't about to brag about moving into her place, where I'd probably never get pussy at all. I must have fallen back asleep, because the house phone rang and woke me up. Since I probably wasn't supposed to be living here, I didn't answer it. I had no idea she'd still have Joker's old answering machine hooked up. Her voice filled the room and then a loud beep. "Charlene, this is Roger Simmons from the attorney's office. I am just calling to check in and let you know that we still haven't located John Thomas. I know you were hoping to have the tavern sold by now. We will keep looking and keep you posted if something changes." The machine beeped again before turning off.

  What the hell were they looking for me for and why would she ever want to sell her family's bar. They built this from nothing. I needed to know how I was involved in all of this. I didn't need to know all the details to understand that she needed me to sell the place. Little did she know that John Thomas was closer than she could ever imagine. Too bad she wasn't going to find out.

  I got myself cleaned up and answered Tippy's messages. He said Jaye was pissed and I really didn't care if I ever saw the chick again. Any woman that easy needed to understand that she probably wasn't going to get a call back.

  Tippy agreed to let me leave my car at his place, but drop off my bag of clothes. I'd left a bunch of shit at Joker's place when I moved out and figured that it was probably somewhere in a box. I didn't want Charlie to catch me, so I waited for the lunch rush before climbing in the attic. Sure enough, a box with the name Jammer sat in a corner. I went through the box and grabbed some items that weren't totally out of style. Before climbing back down the stairs, I decided to hide the box, in case Charlie ever came up here looking. I hid it in the far corner and noticed a box of old photo albums. Since I missed my old friend, I started looking through them.

  I recognized Joker, but the photos were from when he was younger, maybe even his early twenties. I was almost through the album before I got to a photo that changed everything I'd ever known about Joker. He was standing in front of a pool table with his arm around my father. My mother stood on the other side with another female. I pulled the picture out of the album and put it back where it was. I couldn't believe this. I’d talked about my father and the kind of guy he was. How could Joker have known him the whole time and never tell me? When I got downstairs, I went into the guest room and pulled out the picture again. Sure enough, my parents stood there with Joker.

  I knew at that second that there was no way I could walk away from helping Charlie until I got to the bottom of this next puzzle. Since my father obviously knew Joker, there had to be a reason he was trying to scare Charlie out of the bar. This had gone from me being a nice person, to me having a vendetta against my family. Whatever this was, I was going to end it.

  Chapter 13

  Charlie

  I had caked on so much makeup that my face was literally stuck in one position. The black eyes were still noticeable. I just wanted to take the day off and sulk in my bathtub. Except, I had an unexpected roommate and, as much as I didn't want him there, I was so desperate to have the help.

  On our way down the stairs, Ryan went on and on about Jammer. For some reason, my little brother liked him. I grabbed him a muffin on the way to his preschool bus and he only stopped talking while he ate it.

  It was easy to wear sunglasses outside, but when I went back into the bar, it was too dark to pull it off. Shaun came in, and right away, wanted to know what had happened to me. Since it was still recent, I found it hard to explain. If Jammer wouldn’t have been there, I could have been lying dead in that alley after being raped and beaten to death. I really owed him and I hadn't exactly been very nice.

  Once the lunch rush was over and the crowd died down to less than two patrons, I told Shaun I had to take to a break for a few minutes. Part of me hoped that I would find Jammer going through my shit so I could kick him out, but the other part was praying that I didn't have to do that. I might not have liked him very much, and he probably didn't like me at all, but I had to make this work, until I knew that me and my brother were going to be safe.

  I walked into the place and found Jammer in the kitchen. His back was facing me and I saw even more tattoos. This time I caught myself before he could catch me watching him. I cleared my throat and slid a wrapped up steak sub across the counter, that I had Shaun make before I took my break. "You hungry?"

  "Depends what you brought me. Is it poisoned?"

  I laughed. He would think that after the bitch I’d been. "It's not poisoned. I brought it as a peace offering."

  He raised an eyebrow and I could tell he was skeptical about accepting my way of apologizing. Since I'd always had problems with opening up to people, it was even harder for me to admit when I was wrong.

  "What brought this on?" He asked.

  I opened the plastic and separated the sub into two pieces. Surprisingly, Jammer reached up into the cabinet and grabbed two plates. I guess he had looked for them when he tried to cook Ry breakfast. I sat half on his plate and half on mine, then walked over to the fridge. "Fighting with you is pointless. I obviously am in way over my head. Now, I have someone trying to physically assault me. I need all the help I can get and if I expect you to hang around, I'm going to have to stop being a bitch about everything."

  After putting mayonnaise and ketchup on my sub, I sat at the kitchen island and started eating. Jammer put the same thing on his and leaned across from me, eating while he stood. "What's your story anyway? Why are you so uptight?"

  I picked at my sandwich and contemplated saying something smart, but decided that I was only making my life worse. "I don't know. I guess it has to do with my past. I mean
, I lost my parents when I was ten. I was put into the foster system and never really had a permanent home. The places that I lived were terrible and I guess I just put up a wall. When I started college, it was hard for me to interact. For the first time in my life, I felt free of all of it. Then, one day, everything changed. I get this letter from a lawyer, saying that a father that I didn't even know I had, left me a tavern and a kid to raise."

  He sat his sandwich down. "Damn, Charlie, that's some crazy shit. You didn't know? Like your mother never told you who your real father was?"

  I shook my head and kept it down, looking at my food. I couldn't look him in the eye, because thinking that my mother had betrayed me was still hurting me.

  "So, what made you decide to take it all on? Why not just sell it and have someone else take the kid?"

  They were all valid questions and for some reason, I wanted to tell him. Talking to someone like this was what a normal person would do. They would communicate. "Well, first, I had to take the on responsibility of my brother because I would never want another child to go through what I did, especially my own sibling. Secondly, I can't sell the bar without the other part owner’s approval and my lawyers can't track him down. My father left me three quarters, but he left this guy, John, the other quarter. I have no idea who he is and, since he isn't around and I didn't have a job, or a place to live, I moved in here and the rest is history."

  Wow, I just told this stranger my whole life story. What was happening to me?

  "That explains a lot." Jammer took another bite of his sandwich and looked right at me. "So when you find this guy, will you ask him to sell? I mean, this bar could give you and your brother a future."

  I got up to grab a soda and grabbed one for Jammer too. Since I only had Cokes, it wasn't like he had a choice. He could have apple juice, milk or Coke and I knew he didn't want the other two. “I don’t really think I want to raise a kid in a bar.”

  Jammer waved his hands around. “This doesn’t look like a bar to me. In fact, it’s one of the nicest places I’ve been in around here. Sure, there is a business downstairs, but it’s a lucrative business that has been around for a long time. I think you have everything you need to give your brother a good life.”