Supermarket - Bobby Hall Page 0,74
in here?”
“Kid, when you’ve been here as long as me, you know how to get things in and out of this building.”
I froze, the statement giving me the boost of confidence I needed.
“I hope you like Scotch,” Red said as he grabbed a bottle of Hibiki from underneath his bed. Hibiki was a type of Japanese Scotch—I’d only had it once before, years ago. Accompanying the bottle were two whiskey glasses with the words Bobby Billiards printed across them. It was the same place Red used to shoot pool back in the day.
“I love Scotch, actually,” I said, still thinking about what he had just said. Maybe Red would know the best way to get out of this place.
“You know,” he said, “the first time I ever had Hibiki was actually in Japan at the Ritz Carlton. Years back. I was there for a pool tournament.”
“You don’t say.”
He gave a graceful pour and handed me a glass. Raising his in the air, he said, “To sanity.” I looked down, then we clinked and took our sips. Delicious. Smoky and full-bodied.
“Eyes, eyes!” he said.
“What?”
“Eyes, boy! You never take your eyes from another when making a toast before you drink! It’s bad luck.”
“To sanity,” I said, staring right at him. Our glasses collided and I downed the entire thing.
“Damn, Flynn!”
“What?”
“Scotch is for sippin’, boy . . . not for pouring back! This ain’t tequila now!” He chuckled.
“Hey, Red?” I said, extending my hand for another pour.
“Yeah?” He gave me a much heavier pour this time.
“You said you can get things in . . . and out of this place?”
I was already feeling tipsy. Now that I thought about it, I hadn’t had a drink since I wrote the ending of my novel. Since the night Frank robbed . . . I robbed the supermarket.
“Yeah,” he said. “I can get pretty much anything in this place.”
“Red, I gotta tell you something.”
“What is it, Flynn?” he said, face full of concern.
I told him all about the previous night, when Frank visited me in my room. I told him about the planned meeting at Muldoon’s. I told him about the conversation I had with Mia and how, deep in my heart, I felt this was the end.
Or, at least, the beginning of the end.
He clutched his glass as I told him my plan. I was prepared to get rid of Frank by any means necessary.
To kill him in cold blood.
I still didn’t know exactly how to do it, but I figured it would all work out in the end . . . or, at least, I hoped it would. Or it wouldn’t . . . then I didn’t know what would happen.
Red sat on his bed, listening. His face was blank. He checked the clock—five till ten.
“This is heavy, kid,” he finally said. “Listen, I have an idea but, just . . . just give me some time to think it over. Let’s meet tomorrow for breakfast, and I’ll have a solid plan in place. Okay?”
I realized Red was the father figure I’d always wanted. The man I would make up in my head as a kid, the kind of dad I dreamed of having. A guy I wanted to be like. A guy to go fishing with, or play catch with in the yard. Red was everything I wished I had growing up but didn’t. And yet . . . he was here now. When I needed him most.
“Okay, Red. I’ll see you in the morning for breakfast.”
This was different. I could feel it. Something wasn’t normal here . . . and normal for me had been living in a series of delusions inside a psych ward. This was different, and different was good.
I really felt, for the first time in a long time, that I could beat this thing.
“Flynn, I know it’s hard. I’ve been there, but you’re ready now, I can feel it.” Red stood up. “I’ll meet you in the cafeteria.”
He took my glass and gave me a hug.
“Thank you, Red,” I said as he walked me to the door.
“Now get outta here. If we’re gonna put an end to this, I got shit to plan . . .”
CHAPTER 18
BREAKOUT
I awoke Thursday morning to the sun on my face. I must have forgotten to close the blinds before falling asleep. The sun’s warmth blanketed my skin. It was the most at peace I’d felt in a long time. As I opened my eyes I realized that today was the day.
Today was