His Pawn (The Manhattan Tales Book 1) Read Free

every weekend that he wasn’t on duty, he’d take me upstate to my Uncle’s shed and we’d play all the good hits:  Lynyrd Skynyrd, Led Zeppelin, you name it, we played it.”  Travis grinned, reminiscing.  “I wanted to start a band, but, now I have my mom and little sister to take care of…”
    I listened as Travis talked about his music and his family.  His mom was a school teacher and sister was ten years younger and I could tell he felt a very strong sense of brotherly duty toward her, especially now that their dad was gone.
    As long as the conversation didn’t turn on me, I was willing to listen.  I suggested we check out a few concerts that would be playing in the immediate area, but Travis shook his head, claiming they were too expensive.  I’d never been friends with someone who couldn’t afford to do what they wanted to do, but instead, Travis invited me to check out some up and coming local bands who played at a few small clubs.
    “They only charge five or ten dollars at the door on most nights, if you don’t drink.”
    I didn’t know what to think of that. Bad music and no booze? It sounded like a piss-poor time, but I figured, why the hell not ?            
    “Sounds like fun,” I grinned.  As it turns out, it was a lot of fun.  That was the beginning of a long-lasting friendship with Travis Pryor. 
    I wouldn’t meet his mother or sister for another eight years.  I believe Travis was embarrassed by his mother’s current state of clinical depression and their lack of wealth.  Our usual spots consisted of my apartment, the clubs, and bars but those were the best years of my life. 
    When I did meet Mrs. Pryor and Jilly Bean, they took me in like one of their own.  I was in awe how close knit they were.  I had assumed family shit like that only existed in movies and books.
      I had no idea that after many years of friendship, Travis would ultimately stab me in the back by sleeping with my girlfriend…
     
    *****
     
    As I reminisced about the memories, which caused anger to simmer within me, I suddenly felt the gentle vibe of my mobile in my pocket.  Quickly, I glanced at the gadget under the table to sneak a look at the incoming caller.  A local number lights up the screen and I grip the mobile so hard, I nearly crack it.  A name does not pop up, but even after all these years, I recognize that number. Travis Pryor.  Why the fuck is he ringing me?
    My teeth clench as I let the call go to voicemail.  My knuckles tighten when I hear the single vibration indicating that I have a waiting voice message.  Fuck him.   I assume he is drunk dialing as he did several times, attempting to apologize when we first fell out of being friends.
    Perhaps it was the champagne on an empty stomach, but the waiting voice message was eating at me.  I considered deleting the message without listening to it. After thirty minutes, I felt my self-control wane.
    “Shitsurei shimasu,” I excused myself from the table to listen to the message.  I was curious what rubbish he’d have for me this time.  I stepped outside into the cold night air and held the phone up to my ear as I listened for the assumably drunken slurs that would assault my ear.  Why I decided to torture myself with this bullshit, I do not know, but I am glad I did not delete the message.  Because what I heard next was not what I expected.
     
      “Hi… um, Mason- It’s Jillian, Jillian Pryor.  I know you don’t want to see me or my brother, but… I don’t know who else to call.  I don’t have anywhere to go…” Her voice on the message was shaky.  She was most likely crying or she was cold.  It was in fact snowing lightly at the moment.
    “Please, please call me back.  This is my number now.  Travis gave me his old phone.  I hope you’re ok… ok, bye.”
    Then the message ended.  I replayed it again to ensure that I was hearing correctly.  Yes, I remembered Travis’s little sister.  How could I