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The Prodigal Girl

Page 17

by Evan Ronan


  “I’m here,” I say. “I showed up. I might as well compete.”

  “What good does brooding do anybody? What good does it do the woman you tried to help?”

  “None.”

  “Right.” He pats my shoulder again. “So don’t throw your life away to despair. Don’t go looking for it. It’ll come find you often enough, without any help. You’re in this moment right now, you’re here, so you might as well enjoy it.”

  “It feels wrong.” I face the tables again. “It feels wrong that I’m here and Tarika …”

  He nods. “All over planet Earth right now, there’s a lot of terrible things happening. If you stopped and focused on that, you’d never live, Greg. You’d never get anything done. And you do more than most to make the world a better place, kid. Keep that in mind.”

  I appreciate the pep talk, but I’ve lost my motivation to compete. Winning a nine-ball tournament feels so unimportant right now.

  “You’re here, Greg,” Roy says. “So play. I wish I could compete but those days are long past me now.”

  “What are you talking about, Roy?” I ask. “You could get to the final table here.”

  “I might get through the first round or two, but playing well over several hours?” He shakes his head. “I can’t do that anymore. Old age is a bitch.” He gives me a hard look. “You’re still young. Don’t waste your youth, kid.”

  He shuffles off, each step looking painful. Roy squeezes between Ashlynn and Tammy and sits, makes a crack about something, and both women start laughing.

  I’m ready to drop out of the tournament. But Ashlynn and Tammy and Roy came all the way out here to see me play. Least I could do is try my damned best. Because Roy is right: another tournament might never come along.

  And next time?

  There might not be a bag on the end table by the front door, so some asshole misses when he tries to shoot me.

  Life’s like that.

  As I head back to our seats, I think about Tarika and her plight puts my situation into perspective. A few minutes ago, I was worrying about how I’d perform in a nine-ball tournament.

  Seriously. I was worried about a nine-ball tournament.

  That is a First World Problem right there.

  Putting things into perspective is always useful. The tournament isn’t that big of a deal, really. Family is more important. So are friends.

  What happens if I lose?

  Nothing terrible.

  What happens if I win?

  I might, you know, actually enjoy myself.

  I’m smiling as I sit down.

  Tammy gives me a look. “What’s so funny?”

  “Did I ever tell you I knew a bagpiper?”

  ************

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  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Evan Ronan writes mysteries and thrillers filled with lots of suspense, crisp prose, crackling dialog, and wry humor. Sometimes he posts rambling videos on YouTube.

  He loves hearing from readers and can be contacted at ronaniswriting@gmail.com. He always responds to emails.

  ALSO BY EVAN RONAN

  THE UNEARTHED SERIES (Paranormal Investigator, Eddie McCloskey)

  The Unearthed

  The Lost

  The Accused and the Damned

  The Hysteria

  The Traveler

  The Dream Machine

  The Possessed

  The Missing

  THE DEAD SERIES (Part-time Private Detective, Greg Owen)

  The Dead Girl

  The Stalked Girl

  The Prodigal Girl

  THE TOMAHAWK AND SABER SERIES

  (collaboration with Nathanael Green)

  Language of the Bear

  Through the Narrows

  The Susquehannock

  OUT OF THE FIRE SERIES

  (collaboration with Nathanael Green)

  Out of the Fire

  Into the Grey

  OTHER NOVELS

  UNDO (YA / sci-fi)

  Otherworld (Middle Grade fantasy)

  stay in your homes (horror / thriller)

  The Board (crime thriller)

  WRITING AS BRIAN O’ROURKE

  The Bastard’s Refuge

  Wyetgerd’s Ax

  The Sword Behind the Veil

  THE PRODIGAL GIRL. Copyright 2017 by Evan Ronan. All rights reserved.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from the author or publisher.

  Edition: November, 2017

 

 

 


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