Skin Games Read Online Free Page B

curious.  Was she home?  She had to be in her room.  I walked down the short hallway that separated our rooms.
    To this day, I have no idea why I didn’t knock.  I was old enough to know better, to have at least some respect for her privacy.  And yet, living so close, just the two of us, it didn’t seem like a big deal.
    I really wish I’d knocked.
    Instead, I walked right into her room.  It was dark.  At first, I thought she was sleeping.  But as the hallway light shone in, and my eyes adjusted, I saw the back of my mother’s head.  Her long, curly brown hair hung low, and she was down on her knees.
    Then, I saw teeth.  A smile, wide and cocky, exposing perfectly capped teeth, no doubt the handy work of Dr. Berman, also known as Berman the Jew, or simply the Jewish Dentist.  Dr. Berman was a degenerate gambler and often paid up his debts to the local guys with services.
    Apparently, my mom was doing the same.  Vinny Macho smiled at me and didn’t say a word.  A bright glean of sweat glimmered off his fuzzy chest as he stood staring at me, his arms gripped around my mother’s head like a basketball.
    Mom jumped back and turned.  “Sean.  Close the door.”
    And I did as I was told.  But some things, once seen, can never be unseen.

Chapter Five
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    For some crazy reason, Vinny Macho sort of took me under his wing after that.  Maybe he felt bad for me or something.  Maybe my mother just gave good head.  Whatever it was, I started seeing a lot of Vinny around my house.  All my first jobs came through him: running errands, pickups, drop-offs, and occasionally I’d tag along when he’d “do work” as he called it.  I learned a lot, and I learned it fast.
    Vinny owned an auto shop on Hunts Point Avenue: full service shop, mechanics and body work.  It was a cavernous, grungy-looking place filled with remnants of cars: old hub caps, various tires, grills, old mufflers and junk.  Certainly not a high-end place.  He had a couple guys who worked inside doing repairs and painting.
    I guess I was about sixteen when I learned how the shop made money.  I was helping Jose change the oil on Don Mario’s Black Coupe de Ville when I heard hollering.
    “Hurry up.  Hurry up!”  It was Vinny yelling.
    The garage door rattled open, and a little brown car screeched into the bay.  Scrubby Mike was driving.  The car was barely inside when Vinny Macho hit the button for the garage door to come down, as he simultaneously opened a garage door on the other side of the shop.  Scrubby jumped out of the car while Jose ran over, and the two of them started moving aside piles of junk that blocked the back end garage door.
    Scrubby jumped back in the car, gunned the engine and the car went through the open door into the lot behind the shop.  Jose began putting the junk back in front of the garage door, which was already on its way back down.
    “Help me out, Shamrock.” Jose said to me.
    I ran over and the two of us blocked up the door.  We turned and through the bay windows on the garage, saw a cop car slowing up.  There were two heads inside.  One was looking in.  Vinny Macho stood in front of the garage.  He nodded to the cops, and one waved, then the car accelerated and buzzed off.
    The garage door came open.  Vinny walked in and trotted quickly towards the back.
    “He looks pissed,” Jose said.  “Come on.  Let’s finish this car.”
    Me and Jose finished up the oil change on Mario’s Cadillac while Vinny chewed out Scrubby behind the shop.
    “What the fuck is the matter with you?  You could have brought the heat on us, you dumbass.”
    “Sorry, Vinny.  I’m sorry.  He didn’t see me come in here”
    I heard a loud smack, and Jose cringed.  Then Vinny said, “Don’t talk back to me.”
    There was silence.  Then the door opened, and Vinny walked in.
    “You finished with Mario’s car yet, Jose?”
    “Almost.”
    “Shamrock can finish.  Go ‘round back and help Scrubby with the