Free SOUTHSIDE HUSTLE: a gripping action thriller full of suspense by LOU HOLLY

up like a 1940s Hollywood star. “So, you’re Irish.”
    “Think so?” He leaned in closer to hear better over the DJ’s blaring speakers.
    “Well, sure. With a name like Patrick Halloran.”
    Trick caught Collette’s girlfriends scrutinizing his advances from the corner of his eye. “I mean, do you think I look Irish?”
    “I guess so.” She sipped her drink, studying his face. “Am I missing something?”
    “No, forget it.” A young guy strutted by in a patterned polyester shirt, half unbuttoned, showing off gold chains. He bumped into Trick’s elbow as he was bringing his glass of beer to his mouth. Trick’s demeanor changed in a split second as he quickly shot up and glared at the guy. The young man pivoted, put his hands up in apology and kept moving away. Noticing Collette’s shocked expression, Trick sat back down and said, “Sorry, forgot where I was.”
    “You looked like you wanted to kill that guy.”
    Trick let out a long breath and dabbed beer from the front of his cashmere sweater with a cocktail napkin. “It’s OK, forget about it. Where were we?”
    “You remind me of someone … that actor. What’s his name? Tough guy, did a lot of cowboy stuff in the 60s, cops in the 70s?”
    “Yeah, I get that once in a while. I was born with a lucky face.” Trick did his best to lighten the mood and said, “You look like my second wife.”
    “You’ve been married twice?”
    “No, just once.”
    “Oh … oh.” Collette giggled again and crossed her legs.
    “I’d like to take you out. How about dinner tomorrow night? We’ll go somewhere nice.”
    “Tomorrow? You’re assuming I don’t have plans?”
    “No. I’m not assuming anything.” Trick examined Collette’s body language and studied her crossed leg swinging in short quick movements. “Do you have plans?”
    “Maybe.” Collette put a hand to her cheek. “I just met you. Never had a guy ask me for a date … so quick.”
    “I really like you. Why wait?”
    Collette tilted her head to the side. “I don’t know. It’s just …”
    “Look, it’s not that complicated. It’s a yes or no question,” Trick said with a smile. “I won’t be offended if you say no.”
    “How about I give you my number and you call tomorrow afternoon?”
    “Perfect.” Trick clasped his hands together as a sign of sealing the deal.
    Collette’s girlfriends approached the table as she was handing Trick her phone number that she jotted down on the inside of a matchbook cover. “C’mon, Collette. We’re leaving.”
    Trick stood and extended his hand to the closest girlfriend. “Hi, my name’s Patrick.”
    She looked at Trick’s hand as though it might be a viper. “Hello and goodbye.”
    Collette shook Trick’s hand as it hung there. “G’night, Trick. It was nice meeting you.”
    The heavier-set girlfriend pulled Collette by the arm. “God. We leave you alone for a minute and you’re giving your number to some hooligan.”
    Trick stood and waited as the three walked toward the exit. He watched Collette closely and got what he was hoping for when she looked back and smiled.
    As Trick sat alone in a bar full of people, his sense of wellbeing began to ebb. He had every reason to feel great, but something kept gnawing at him. It was like that feeling he got when he left the house knowing he had forgotten something, but couldn’t remember what it was.

CHAPTER 11
    Trick stretched, his bare toes brushing against the cool smoothness of fine cotton sheets. His eyes shot open, realizing he was no longer in prison. How long would it take, he wondered. Weeks, months? Maybe years until he got used to waking up not surrounded by several other inmates, snoring, coughing, belching and farting. He got up, looked at the bag of cash on the floor next to the bed and walked to the bathroom. His own bathroom, he marveled. No waiting for a toilet. No watching eyes.
    After taking his time shaving and showering, he walked back to the bedroom, sat on the bed