The Heartbreak Lounge Read Online Free

and Harry only had time to yell “No!” once before Lyle leaned close and shot him in the head.
    There wasn’t much noise. A quick crack, the muzzle of the gun barely rising, and the kid fell instantly to the floor, everything loose. Lyle leaned his bulk over the counter, holding on with one hand so he didn’t overbalance. The gun sparked and cracked again and the kid shook once and lay still.

    Harry was moving now, closing the distance.
    â€œPut it down,” he said.
    Lyle looked at him, his face blank.
    â€œPut the gun down.”
    â€œGot that motherfucker,” Lyle said and set the gun on the counter.
    The kid moaned, one leg kicked. There was blood on the floor, blood on his jacket, blood in his hair. The baseball cap lay a few feet away. Bills were scattered on the floor.
    The kid’s gun was in two pieces, bits of black electrician’s tape stuck to them. Harry scattered them with his foot.
    â€œCall 911,” he said.
    Lyle didn’t move.
    From behind him, Harry heard Errol say softly, “Son of a bitch,” as he got to his feet.
    Harry holstered the .38, looked at Lyle.
    â€œGood shot,” he said. He slid Lyle’s gun along the counter, out of reach.
    â€œThat nigga went down, ” Lyle said and Harry nodded, raised his right hand.
    â€œMan, what are you …” Lyle started to say, and then Harry leaned over the counter and hit him as hard as he could in the face.

3
    â€œWhat the fuck ?” Ray Washington said.
    They were out in the parking lot, getting wet, the building overhang blocking the wind only slightly. The sleet had turned to a steady rain. There were a half dozen cruisers in the lot, rollers flashing, red and blue lights reflecting off the wet pavement. Cops wandered idly through the store.
    Harry shrugged. His right hand was swollen, stiff, but he wasn’t feeling the pain yet. The adrenaline and the Percocet were keeping it at bay. But his stomach was sour, and every few minutes a wave of nausea would rise up in him that he had to choke down.
    Through the window he could see two Neptune cops talking to Chaney. A few feet away, a plainclothes detective had Lyle off to the side. He had an ice-filled towel pressed against his face and occasionally cut an angry glance at Harry through the glass.
    The ambulances had been and gone. He was starting to feel the fatigue now, the sleepy dislocation that always came after moments of high stress.
    â€œHow’s Errol?” he said.
    â€œSaid he was fine, but I told him he had to go to the hospital anyway, get some X-rays. Insurance reasons. Now, listen, we need to get our stories straight here.”
    â€œIt happened just the way I told it. Tell them to pull the tape. It’s all on there.”
    â€œI’m sure they will. In the meantime, I have a very pissed-off business owner here. I don’t think this is the way he saw things going.”

    â€œThat Neptune cop, the first one I talked to, said he knows the kid. Said he’s fourteen. His brother’s in prison.”
    â€œWhich is where he’ll be himself someday if he lives long enough. Maybe Lyle did him a favor.”
    â€œYou believe that?”
    â€œWho am I talking to here, Jesse Jackson? Get your shit correct. He walked in there with a gun in his hand. He did it before, he’ll do it again.”
    â€œIf he lives.”
    He looked away at the cars on Route 33, most of them slowing down to see what was happening.
    â€œCome on,” Ray said. “Let’s get out of this rain.”
    They went back inside. Chaney looked over at them from where he stood talking to the two cops. Ray took Harry’s arm, guided him in the other direction. The blood on the floor was already drying, thick and tacky in the fluorescent light.
    A uniformed cop escorted Lyle out the door, still holding the towel to his face. The plainclothes cop who’d been talking to him looked around, saw Ray. He was a heavyset