Blow Your Mind Read Online Free Page B

problems.”
     
    “That’s not me, sis. I’m here to solve problems.”
     
    “Like my car, Pumpkin?”
     
    She chuckled. “Oops. But you gotta admit some blame in that too. You should’ve never had me out there in your car in the first place. You know I don’t drive worth a shit.”
     
    Pumpkin came beside me, flipping her hair and admiring herself in the mirror as I tried to finish wiping my face. She was so vain. I looked miserable and yet she looked ready for the club—her clothing way too revealing, as was her nature. “How much longer will you be here?”
     
    “Not too long. Just long enough to take care of some things. You don’t mind, do ya?”
     
    “Do I have a choice?”
     
    Pumpkin smirked. “No. Not really.”
     

4
     
    HENRY
     
    T he Scotch was releasing its hold, the corrupting genie retreating back into the bottle at the side of my bed. My broken finger ached almost as much as my throbbing head.
     
    I awoke with questions I wasn’t prepared to truthfully answer. Was I going to rob a man at gun-point? Would I have killed him if he didn’t get with the program? And did I really pull a woman from a car? A woman like that ? Those legs, that body. The things she stirred up in me. So wild and reckless. Crack dreams. Straight-up crack dreams. One certainty was that I was out of control.
     
    I always was a risk taker. That’s why I succeeded, going beyond what was expected—my SATs in high school, summer school in college while holding down two part-times, one of which brought me to the attention of Tanner Coleman—the man. Out there on a wire was where I lived. Sometimes you fall off the wire . . . if you’re lucky. Other times, the wire can be used to hang you. To the average-average on the street, things looked steady, but the eyes were slowly rolling back, a faint breath escaping my lips.
     
    The gambling was small at first, those random long shots seeming like pure, undiluted genius. One big hit and I was caught up, ignoring the losses that piled up one after another. If only the ball would’ve fallen this way or that. If only that player weren’t knocked out of the game with a concussion. Before I knew it, I was deep in debt, too arrogant to change my ways or lifestyle in spite of it. I kept after the elusive prize—that big payday that would right everything—but it never came. It was as if the world were conspiring to fuck me. Tanner Coleman’s firing was the last hard one with no Vaseline.
     
    Sure, I was borrowing company funds to cover a bet, but I was going to put it back. I wasn’t a thief. The worrisome part was that perhaps I’d become something worse.
     
    Thanks to somebody in the company, that was one wager that didn’t get covered. And I was left without the payment I’d promised. Broken promises, just like my finger and whatever else was coming up if I didn’t honor my obligations.
     
    Worries spurred me to action. Ignoring the pain, I sat up.
     
    Ten a.m. and The Price Is Right playing on my TV. The crowd was booing an old man who didn’t spin the wheel all the way around. So this was what morning felt like to the unemployed. At least I could grab a bowl of cereal before planning my next move. Maybe I’d scout out Tanner again at his office—one more go-round. The clock was ticking. Someone would be calling on me later. And not Pumpkin, whom I probably would never hear from again.
     
    I sniffed my finger for confirmation. In the dried residue, I detected faint traces of her treasured offerings. Thoughts of her were a danger akin to being out on that wire again. I should’ve never let her get out of my car.
     
    A noise from my kitchen broke me from my yawn. It was a cabinet closing. This place didn’t have roaches, and none of my acquaintances had a key. As poor of thought as I’d been, I knew I’d locked my door when I came in. Not sure where I’d dropped my gun or what I would do, I crept toward the sound, ready for a confrontation.
     
    Feet