Lottery by Kimberly Shursen Read Free Book Online Page B

who gives you money to stay alive.”
    “What up?” She pushed her hair off her forehead, her eyes scanning the floor for a cigarette.
    “Need anything?”
    “Naw. Got all I need for a while.” She leaned over to pick up a cigarette butt and lost her balance. Toppling to the floor, the phone slipped out of her hand. “Oh,
gawwwd
.”
    “Jesus Christ, what’s going on?” her brother yelled.
    She laughed a throaty laugh when she slapped her hand over the phone and pushed it against her ear. “Nothing going on.”
    “How about I come over and take you to lunch?”
    “Don’t want no lunch,” she snarled, anchoring her hand on the floor and boosting herself to a wobbly standing position. “Not hungry.”
    “You need to eat, Sis.”
    “Meeting someone.”
    “Like who?” he asked.
    Feeling woozy, she rested a hand on the window sill for support.
    “Tell me who you’re meeting,” Ron barked.
    “Caleb O’Toole, if it’s any of your bees wax,” she snipped.
    “Who?”
    “Guy who won the lottery.” She put the cigarette butt between her lips and sandwiched the phone between her ear and shoulder as she lit it.
    “How’d you meet him?”
    “Fuck,” she let out when she smelled something burning. Slapping the side of her head, she watched the fried ends of her hair fall to the floor.
    “Jesus, McKenzie, are you okay?”
    “Lit my fucking hair on fire.” McKenzie drew in a puff and blew out smoke.
    “Want me to go with you to meet this guy?”
    “Hell, no. I’m a big girl.”
    “I want you to come live with me,” Ron said in a fatherly tone. “We’ll get you straight.”
    She smirked. “I’m fine.”
    “Mom and Dad are worried about you.”
    “Fuck Mom and Dad,” she spat. “And screw you. If you remember, you introduced me to this shit.” She knew which buttons to push, as her brother would always feel guilty for giving McKenzie her first hit.
    “They only want the best for you.”
    “They want the best for themselves. They don’t give a rat’s ass about me. Never did.”
    He blew out a breath. “I give up.”
    “You use, too, asshole.”
    “When can I come over?” Ron asked, ignoring her comment.
    She shrugged a shoulder and took in the last puff of the cigarette. “Friday … wait.” She paused. “What day’s today?”
    “Tuesday.”
    “Cool. Come to my humble abode on Friday.” She swept an emaciated arm around the large, decaying warehouse. “And you can take me to lunch. Not too early, though. Need my beauty sleep.”
    After McKenzie hung up, she covered her thinning hair with the paisley scarf and pushed the oversized sunglasses up on her nose. She remembered O’Toole had left Weber to die. He hadn’t even called for help. If he could do that to a friend, McKenzie had to be careful. Fuck, she wished she had a valium. If O’Toole tried any funny stuff, she’d call her brother. Ron’d take care of the SOB.
    Her stomach was on fire when she left to meet O’Toole. Ron was right. McKenzie needed to quit using this crap. As soon as O’Toole paid up, she’d get straight. Well … maybe after she’d had a couple of days to celebrate her good fortune.

aleb stood in front of the restaurant, rocking from his heels to his toes. If he didn’t meet with this person, he or she would go to the cops. Even though Weber’s death was an accident, he could be charged for leaving the scene of an accident or, even worse, for stealing a winning lottery ticket—and not just any lottery ticket, but one that paid out 736 million. His eye wouldn’t stop twitching and the relentless, pounding headache told him his blood pressure was boiling at an all-time high.
    Someone bumped Caleb’s shoulder. “’Scuse me, sir,” a young man said politely.
    “Watch where the hell you’re going,” Caleb retorted. He was on edge. He looked around anxiously. Where the hell was this person? Were they playing with him? Watching him from a distance?
    “O’Toole.” He heard and whipped his head