Perception

Chapter Twenty-six

Chapter Twenty-six

Stress is when you wake up screaming & you realize you haven't fallen asleep yet.

Unknown

~~~~~~~~~~~

    Thompson, a small pimply teenager of about fifteen years, leant up against the wall next to the neon Pool Hall sign.

    “Is Haka in?” I asked as I approached.

   He clapped his hands together before breathing on to keep them warm, “’Cause. Bet you’ll just about make his day Annie.”

    Ignoring his speculation I kept right on going up the ratty-carpeted stairs and through the open door. Three scarred and dusty pool tables stood badly lit in the dark and forbidding room. A dartboard was positioned next to the door and my entrance had not stopped the dart from whizzing past my ear, burying itself into the frameworks behind. Burly man with scars and tattoos rested on barely used cue sticks watched watching the game and taking bets.

   “Sorry Annie,” Shaggy, the bald headed bouncer said looking sheepish, “We’re expecting Pearly.”

   I shrugged it off walking forward, “Where’s Haka?” I asked as impassively as I could knowing that any sign of weakness would have been like adding drops of blood to a shark tank.

   “In the office.” Dusty answered before collecting the darts to continue the game.

    The office door, white and plain was probably the newest thing in the pool hall. Not many would know approaching it that it was made from reinforced steal and you’d have had better luck blowing up a safe then breaking it down.

    Knocking twice at the top of the door then three sharp ones down the bottom, than waited. The small light above the handle changed from red to green before I pushed my way in. The office was cold and clean, a sliver metal desk stood on a raise platform in the corner. On the wall closest to me was a large leather lounge positioned directly across from a wall filled with TV screens and security monitors. The Pool Hall like so many of Roman’s businesses was just a front. In this case it was a front for an illegal casino located on the floor below.

   "Bad time?" I asked closing the door and leaning against it.

   Troye sat in the middle of the three-seater arms spread wide over the back, "Nope. What do ya need?" he asked turning his head to look at me.

  Pushing away from the door I walked over to the desk, slid onto its surface and began swinging my legs, "Do I have to want something? I might be here to chat."

  "You don't chat," He stated flatly as he lent forward to rest his elbows on his knees, "N ya don't go no where without Petra, so what's up?"

  Picking up the small paperweight from the desk I tested its weight, tossing it from hand to hand, "I need a lift."

   His eyebrow rose but he remained silent.

    With a sigh I put down the paperweight and jumped off the table, "I need to go up to Bethum to check something out. The trains don't go there so I need someone who I can trust to take me."

  "And you trust me?" He asked sounding pleased.

   "I trust you enough not to rape me and dump my bloodied body out in the scrub," I retorted starting to pace.

   "N this is something ya don't want Petra to know 'bout." he guessed.

   "Yes, oh nosey one. Will you help me or not?"