Hustle Me (5 page)

"Charlene, are you aware of why you're here?"
 

I shook my head. "I have no idea. Nothing makes sense to me right now."
 

"Did you not know your father?" He asked.
 

"What do you mean? I knew my father just fine until he died in a fire when I was ten." What did this have to do with my father?
 

He sighed and grabbed a couple papers. "I mean your biological father. Did you know him?"
 

My eyes got real big and I looked right at him. I could feel my leg shaking under the table and Elle reached under to tap it. "Are you saying that my dad wasn't my dad?"
 

He held his palms up to face us. "Look, I can see how this might sound and I apologize for just coming out and saying it this way, but your biologically father was named Joseph McNally. I have the documentation to prove it." He slid the paper over and I skimmed through it while he continued to talk. "Upon your father’s incarceration, he signed over all of his legal rights to your mother and allowed your stepfather to adopt you."
 

I heard the words he was saying, but I just couldn't believe it was happening. "No, this can't be right."
 

He pushed a couple pictures toward me and I felt the room beginning to spin. The first picture was my mother in a wedding dress with a man I didn't recognize and the second picture was the man leaning over my mother and a newborn baby in a hospital. On the back of the picture were my parents’ names and
my name. I covered my face with my hands and started to cry. "This can't be happening. How could I not have known this?"
 

Elle was quiet as she rubbed my back. This wasn't exactly how she had imagined this going and I knew she felt horrible for me.
 

"Charlie, you were only ten when your parents died. Maybe they planned on telling you when you were old enough to understand."
 

I heard what she was saying, but all I could think about was how he hadn't come looking for me when he found out I was an orphan. "Why was I put into foster care if I had a father out there somewhere?"
 

“When you were adopted your biological father had signed over parental rights and even if he wanted to care for you, he wouldn't have been able to because he was incarcerated."
 

"Great, as if it couldn't get any worse, my father is a murderer."
 

The lawyer clocked his pen over and over. "He didn't murder anyone. Look, my father was the divorce attorney for your parent’s case. I took over his practice when he retired. From what
I gathered from his notes, twenty years ago your father was addicted to alcohol and then narcotics. He used to beat on your mother, which sent your mother into the arms of your step-father. One night he drank himself to a stupor and tried to drive home. He hit another car and killed someone. That is what sent him to jail. Once he was clean, he was a different man. In fact, my father helped him out when he first got out of prison. Your father owned a bar, and even though he was a recovering alcoholic, he never took another drink, not even when he was on his deathbed."
 

There was a lump in my throat and my eyes were filled with tears. "Just tell me why I'm here. It doesn't even matter what kind of man he was, because I needed him to be my father and he wasn't."
 

He cleared his throat again and slid me a stack of papers. "Your father set up a will the day he found out he had cancer. He stipulated that you were to get three quarters of the ownership of his business located at Highland Street."
 

I don't even know if what he was saying was registering. "Three quarters? Who gets the other quarter?"
 

He passed me another paper. "The other quarter goes to a John Thomas. We have yet to locate Mr. Thomas."
 

"This John guy, is he like my brother or something?"
 

He turned white and his face changed from steady to worried. "No, John is not your brother."
 

"Well can I just sell him my half of the bar?"
 

"Your father stipulated that the bar isn't to be sold until after five years of you taking it over." He explained.
 

"I don't want the damn thing. I'm in college, what would I want with a bar?" I was being a bitch, but this was just unreal.
 

"I think it could be cool. Maybe we would go visit the location before you freak out any more." Elle was really trying to get me to be more optimistic.
 

"The tavern has been in your family for over thirty years now. Your grandfather opened it when he moved here from Ireland. It was the one thing that he prided himself in keeping in the family."
 

He could say all the good things about my father that he wanted, but the only memory that I ever had of the man was the one where he was beating the shit out of my mother. The fact that
he went to jail, didn't make me feel all giddy about finding out my long lost dad left me anything. "He still killed someone and I'm pretty sure that he would have killed my mother had she not left him. What do I have to do to get rid of this bar? I don't want it. I don't want anything to do with him."
 

I was done with all of this. I needed to make an appointment with my therapist as soon as possible.
 

"I’ll see what I can do to get the ball moving, but something like this is going to take time. I highly recommend you at least visit the property. There is a studio apartment located on the top floor that comes with the place. Your father lived there."
 

"Oh my God, Charlie, your own apartment. You have got to check it out." Elle's excitement was pissing me off.
 

I buried my face in my hands and tried to make enough sense out of everything to make some kind of decision. Obviously I had some kind of legal obligation that I needed to see through, but I was certain that I wanted no part of whatever my biological father had his hands in. "Just do what you have to do to get my name off of things."
 

The lawyer scratched his head and looked confused again. "Well, there is one last thing you need to know before I move further."
 

"What's that?"
 

"John Thomas may not be your brother, but Ryan McNally is and right now he is without both of his parents."
 

I stood up and looked right at the guy. "What are you talking about? A child? Where is his mother? What am I supposed to do about it?"
 

He held his arms up again and started to laugh. "Forgive me, I just never thought that today was going to be going like this. I just assumed you knew your father, or at least something about him. You see, your father liked helping people. Around five years ago, he helped out a woman when her husband was beating her. He thought of it like he was repenting for his past sins against your mother. I know you probably don't care, but he fell in love with her and they had a child. Unfortunately, she went back to her old ways and the state awarded your father full custody. In the meantime, his biological mother was sent back to jail on drug charges. The child lost the only parent he's ever had."
 

I cut him off. "I'm sorry, but are you trying to make me feel bad or something?" Maybe I was being rude, but this was just not getting any better. Not only did they want to ruin my life with a rundown bar, but I was supposed to take responsibility for a small child too? No, I don't think so...
 

"Ma'am with all due respect, this child is going to be sent into the same foster system that you were in. I know it isn't always the best of conditions."
 

I stood up and grabbed Elle's arm. "Thank you for having me here today. In light of everything I've learned today, I will be in touch regarding the property."
 

I pulled my friend out of that office before she could stop me. By the time we made it to the car, I collapsed against the steering wheel and started bawling my eyes out.
 

"If you're going to throw up, at least open the door, so you don't make me sick." I grabbed my purse and slapped Elle in the arm.
 

"Unbelievable! My whole life just got turned upside down. Can you please just not joke for ten seconds?"
 

"Sorry, but I don't see the problem. You just inherited a freaking tavern with a studio apartment. Do you have any idea how amazing that is? I mean, I would give my left nut for that shit."
 

I cocked my eyebrow. "You don't even have a left nut."
 

"Well if I did, I would give it up." She corrected.
 

I got out of the car and started pacing around the lot. This was a clusterfuck!
 

Elle hopped out and leaned against the car. "Charlie, are you really going to be okay with knowing that you have a real blood relative out there and you did nothing to protect them from living the same kind of shitty childhood that you had to?"
 

I leaned against the car and threw my hands in the air. "What am I supposed to do? I don't know the first thing about taking care of a kid or running a bar."
 

"Maybe not, but you know what not to do and that's a good start. Look, I can't tell you what to do but, you're going to regret not at least getting to know that kid. At least give it a chance before you say no." She was going to keep pushing me, like she did with everything I wanted to do or not do.
 

"I didn't ask for this, Elle."
 

She put her arm around me and kissed my cheek. "No, you didn't, but you got it anyway. This could be good, if you just give it a chance. Look at it this way, you don't have to get to know the man that gave you up. That makes it ten times easier to begin with."
 

"I hate how you twist things around to sound better when they really aren't. This kid could be awful. He could have something wrong with him. His mother was an addict for Christ sakes."
 

She put her hands on her hips and looked right at me. "Stop making excuses and walk your ass back in there. Tell that hottie lawyer that you want to meet your brother and take a look at the property. Oh, and give him my number before you come back out. I'd love to see what he looks like out of that suit."
 

"You are a terrible friend." I said as I walked back into the building.
 

One week later I was moving into my new life and taking on the responsibility of raising my little four year old brother, Ryan. Elle had been right, he was the cutest little guy and after spending
five seconds with him, there was no way that I could have let him go into the same system that tortured me for years.
 

The tavern was easy to reopen, but after the first week, everyone quit on me. I had no idea how to run it on my own. I was left with one employee that was at least eighty years old. This guy loved Joe so much that he hated me for being so angry over everything. He worked the day shift four days out of the week and the rest was up to me. Thankfully, he did take the time to give me a brief training so I didn't set the building on fire, or poison someone, but I was struggling to say the least.
 

After my first week, things got even worse when these two thugs came in asking for money that I didn't have. They claimed my father had taken out a fifty thousand dollar loan and never paid. The guy he borrowed from wanted the fifty G's and interest for the arrears. Since I didn't have it, they came back a few days later asking again. If it hadn't been for that damn guy interfering, I don't know what would have happened, but one thing I did know was that his stupidity had caused me to fear for mine and Ryan's safety. Yeah, he was hot...and a definite player, but I didn't have time for jerks in my new life. I had a kid and business and now
people were after me. If I never saw that guy again it would be too soon.
 

Chapter 6
 

Jammer
 

Maybe I should have told her that I was John, but she had herself in a nervous wreck over those guys. I don't know what Joker could have been involved with to get people showing up to threaten a poor girl, that didn't even know her ass from her face. I guess since the economy was bad, he must of had to borrow money to stay afloat. Unfortunately, I know all about that business since that's what my father did behind closed doors. He claimed he was helping out the community, but that was a bunch of bullshit.
 

Baltimore was a huge city with enough banks to fund any project or consolidation necessary. Even the people with bad credit could find ways around using my crooked father to save their business. In fact, they were never saving it, they were prolonging the inevitable. After time, three quarters of them couldn't pay and would have to hand over the business to people like my dad. It was ridiculous, but because he had built such a reputation doing it, nobody spoke up and did anything to prevent it
from happening to anyone else. The vicious circle of small business takeovers in Baltimore continued happening right under everyone's noses.
 

I drove to a bar across town and already recognized a shooter’s car in the parking lot. Timothy (Tippy) Savage was a year younger than me and also a Baltimore native. We didn't grow up together, but we did have several friends in common. Like me, pool kept him occupied and out of trouble. He didn't travel around from state to state like I did and he played people fair. They knew before they started that he was a good ass shooter.
 

I walked into the bar and as the door jingled, I saw a few guys looking up at me. "Look at what the cat drug in. Jammer, what the hell are you doing in here? Thought you were all big time, hustling in Atlantic City and shit."