GUN IN MY HAND

CHAPTER 38: TWO TRUTHS & A LIE

I wanna do another dedication because I love to see my little shooting stars in my notifications! Today's chapter is dedicated to @BOK_KU to thank you for all your votes and support on this story, and also, since we talked some time ago about the love triangle Dorothy/Blade/Spencer, I thought you would like this chapter 😘 

BTW it's probably my longest chapter so far, but I felt like splitting it wouldn't have worked for the flow of everything happening 😬👀

Also, I choose the music video for the song in the header because the voices in the background are perfect for the atmosphere 😈

''Cause I know I can treat you better than he can

And any girl like you deserves a gentleman

Tell me why are we wasting time

On all your wasted crying

When you should be with me instead?

I know I can treat you better

Better than he can'

"Triplet! I knew I'd chosen the best team!" Morris cheered, smoothing his mustache as the last two balls slowly rolled out of the green table, and I saluted with my imaginary hat again.

"You won... this round." Blade offered me his devious smile, the dimple adding the condition before he even did. "That makes 2-2, next round is match point."

It was tight, the game, but also all my insides at the prospect of winning or losing. I'd already seen a lot of Blade's secret places, so my curiosity should have been sated. Yet there were still so many tickles in my stomach to discover more, and also a little curiosity about what his prize could be. He still hadn't told me, and that bad intention shined each time brighter in his darkening eyes.

I could almost picture it as he observed me from the rim of his bottle of beer – well, it had been mine first to become ours, since he'd just finished the last sip.

"Do you have more time?"

Time, what was it again? I might have forgotten again. Thus, it was hard to count, and as I glimpsed the shadows falling on the street through the window, I told myself 'just a few more minutes'. Hopefully, this would be what my dad would say if he wanted to seal his deal like I wished to win this game.

"Yes, for the match point." I nodded confidently as I came back to the bad intention in Blade's eyes, which was quickly engulfed in seriousness, and for a second, I almost believed it was because he was afraid to lose – almost.

"I just have to talk to the boss two minutes before. You're okay to wait here?"

This made more sense, and it was surely the reason he'd been distracted in the last round.

"Yes, no worry," I replied with the same assurance, holding his piercing gaze as he seemed to search for the worry in my eyes. But there wasn't anymore.

If when we'd entered the bar tonight, the memories of the fight had been weighing in my steps and stomach, now, I was as light as a feather.

Some would have said it was the alcohol, and maybe it was, but it was in much more than my veins. It was in the stains on the floor that I'd realized weren't only blood when Clinton had dropped his glass, in the air that wasn't as suffocating when it was Blade's alcohol-scented breath teasing my lips, in the easy atmosphere that emanated joy and celebration, even if for just a few instants, and maybe, also in my body as it was buzzing with warmth.