Hero Rising (12 page)

“You can always take the necessary steps to become a psychologist.” Steve gave me the usual look he gave me when this subject came up. Steve had wanted me to finish my doctorate for years, so I could get a cozy office and charge rich people an absurd amount of money to fix their issues, or at least make them think I did.

“You know why I do what I do,” I said to Steve.

“Your parents, Hunter. They would want the best for you. You can only fall on the sword in their name for so long.”

I nodded and thought about my parents. My mom died when I was sixteen, and my dad died a year later. They were both drug addicts. Eventually, drugs killed them both. I came home one day and found my mom hunched over: an overdose in bathroom, Marilyn Monroe style. She was dead by the time I got to her. My dad got so high one night that he decided to take his car and fly over a cliff in the San Bernardino Mountains, thinking he was Superman, apparently. “Are we done talking about all of this?” I asked Steve. “I do have 500 dollars on the game.”

“It kind of makes no sense that we pay a bookie to make a 500 dollar bet and for us to pick opposite teams. We might as well just bet each other.” Steve grinned at me.

“The difference is I know our bookie will pay me when I win; trying to get you to pay up is like trying to get this waitress to acknowledge my existence.”

We both laughed and I said, “You’re probably right.”

“What about your main squeeze?” Steve said, teasing me about a woman named Donna. She had been a friend of mine since high school. Steve teased me because I always spent time with her volunteering my services. The truth was, Donna was a dear old friend who I had cared about for many, many years, and just never could sort out exactly what I felt.

“Donna isn’t my ‘main squeeze.’ We haven’t kissed since college. We’re good friends.”

“Kiss? You did more than just kiss. Hey, that was what you told me.”

“Donna is a wonderful person. She just has a few more demons than the rest of us.”

“Speaking of that, are your debts almost paid off with Charlie?”

“Not even close. Charlie still keeps fifty percent of my winnings.” Charlie was the name of our bookie. No last name. Just Charlie.

“How much more do you still owe?” Steve asked.

“Ten grand,” I said. About nine months ago, I felt great about my bowl game pick. I had seen every game and you know what, I thought it was such a no-brainer, I put fifty grand on the game. The most Charlie allows. I lost. Let’s just say Charlie and I needed to do a payment arrangement plan. I paid him one grand a month and he kept half of all my winnings. I had gotten most of it paid off in the last few months. I had been on a hot streak.

“Well, aside from today, you have been on a massive hot streak. Your algorithm is unmatched. You’ve made us both a lot of money. Just once in a while there is a kink in it like tonight, where you make a horrid pick. Better than the alternative.”

“What?” I said. “Him hurting me?” I paused. “I’m sure that isn’t one of his tactics.”

“I don’t know. I hear things,” Steve said.

“I hear things too, and that’s why I bet with the guy; he has a chill enterprise. I have always paid out my losses on time.”

“Just hope your team covers tonight.”

“You better hope not. You bet the other direction.”

“It always makes for a fun game, doesn’t it?” Steve grinned and we both looked at the big screen TV in front of us. There were about ten others in the bar and they all had the football game on. I needed an escape and sports and betting was the best way for me to do it.

Controlled Chaos

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About the Author:

H.T. Night
is the #1 bestselling author of the
Vampire Love Story
and
Entwined
series of books. He lives in southern California, where he’s hard at work on his next novel.

Please visit him at
www.htnight.com

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