Free Never Love a Stranger by Harold Robbins

somebody. I was living high. I began to think about having to go back to school. I didn’t want to go. I was making too much money. Yet I knew I couldn’t get out of it. I wasn’t old enough to quit. I tried to plan how I would continue to make book while in school. I would ask for the morning session up at high school and then I would be out in time to get the bets. Things were looking up. I thought patronizingly of the other kids in the orphanage and in the neighbourhood. I was really going places.
    It was late afternoon, Saturday, August 22nd. I had just squared up with Keough for the week and had another eighty-four dollars in my pocket. The poolroom was crowded with fellows, cursing, swearing, and shouting. In a few minutes most of them would start drifting home to spruce up for their Saturday-night dates and parties and dances. We were out of beer and cold drinks. Keough looked over the counter at me and said: “I’m tired. I think we’ll close early tonight and I’ll catch a train and go up to see the wife.”
    “Should I pass the word?” I asked him. He nodded.
    I walked around the tables calling out: “Closing time. Closing time.”
    In a few minutes the place was empty. Keough counted up the cash and stuck it in his pocket. “Let’s go!” he said.
    While Keough was locking the door, Fennelli’s car drove up and stopped in front of the place. Silk got out and walked up to us. “Closing early, Jimmy?” He smiled.
    “Yeah,” answered Keough. “Goin’ up to see my wife.” “That’s good,” said Fennelli. “Got anything for me?”
    “Sure thing, Silk,” said Keough. “You know me—always ready!” He stuck his hand in his pocket and came out with his roll. There was a big, thick rubber band around it. They stood in the doorway of the place, and I stepped out to make room for them, my back to the street.
    I heard the whirr of a motor in the street behind me. Suddenly Silk and Keough looked up. They seemed to be staring at something behind me. I felt nothing unusual. Keough got white and his money fell from his hands to the stoop.
    I bent down to pick it up, saying: “You shouldn’t be so careless with your …” I heard the sharp reports of a gun. I looked up suddenly, Keough had his hands on his belly and was sliding down against the door. I stared at Fennelli. His hands were against his chest.
    He began to slump forward, his hands slowly coming away from his coat. Blood started to spatter against me. It was then I began to move. I didn’t think. I just ran, first scrambling on all fours and then running like hell. I didn’t look back. I dodged down one block, then up another until I didn’t know where I was going. I only knew that I was running.
    Instinctively I stopped in front of Marty’s apartment house. I ducked inside the door and ran up the stairs to his apartment. I went to the back door where I knew that Julie would answer, and rang the bell. It was then I began to realize how frightened I was. Before that I just had been running by reaction. My heart was pounding and I could hardly breathe.
    Julie opened the door. I brushed past her and slammed it shut.
    “Why, Frankie!” she said. Then seeing my shirt covered with blood: “What’s the matter? What happened?”
    I didn’t answer. I walked into her little room just off the kitchen and threw myself across the bed, where I lay, my breath rasping through my throat.
    She followed me into the room and shut the door behind her. “What happened, Frankie? Are you hurt?” Her eyes were large with fear.
    I sat up. “No,” I answered. “They just shot my boss and Fennelli.” “They?” she asked. “Who?”
    “I dunno. I just ran.” I stood up. Suddenly I realized I held something in my hand. It was Keough’s roll. I must have grabbed it instinctively. I stuck it in my pocket and went over to the window and looked out. “I wonder if they followed me here?” I asked almost of myself.
    Julie stood beside me. “You poor