The Bondsman (a King Dice x Reader story)

Chapter Nine: The Walk Home

Song: A Lovely Night by Emma Stone and Ryan Gosling

     Dice had no excuse to give the boss as to why he was walking you home, but damn if he wasn't going to try and think one up anyway.

     He was obviously doing a lousy job of staying away from you, or "letting you flounder," as he had previously planned. You were too intoxicating for that. He had been doing a fairly decent job until you came stumbling into the Die House, but once you had entered, there was obviously no turning back.

     Therefore, Dice decided that, if he spent enough time convincing himself, he was really hurting you more than he was helping you. Yes, by walking you home and taking as much time as he possibly could, he would be hurting you in your investigation. You'd be exhausted come tomorrow...sluggish too.

     Surely the boss would accept that as an excuse...right?

     He decided to go ahead and cast the worry aside. He could deal with the repercussions of his actions later, if there were any. Instead, he redirected his attention to the beauty next to him. You had remained primarily silent for the past hour or so. The two of you were about halfway across Isle Two, a soft drizzle still tumbling from the sky, and there had been little to no conversation struck or ignited. Dice's hopes were beginning to wane.

     He wouldn't have let you go back to your apartment on your own, even if he had despised you. Dice didn't consider himself to be a "good" person, but he definitely wasn't a complete monster. A beautiful woman such as yourself walking home alone late at night?

     Absolutely not.

     He didn't doubt you could handle it, but Dice had seen too many no-good rats in the casino to be content with sending you home on your own. He knew their faces, their voices, their thoughts...no, he would have never been able to rest easy if he hadn't come with you, even if he hadn't wanted to.

     But he had wanted to...

     "Y'know, it's a shame that the only time I ever seem to pass through here is on business," you said, abruptly breaking the silence. Dice was confused for a moment, not completely processing that you were talking to him instead of arguing. "My family used to come here all the time. We always preferred to play games over riding rides, though." A soft chuckle breezed past your lips as you wiped some rain away from your hairline. "It's funny, really. There was a time when my father and I had been virtually banished from the shooting gallery; the carney said we were too good at it. Said we 'scared off his business.'"

     "Scared it off?" Dice asked, sidestepping a small puddle of mud.

     "Yep. Daddy and I could never seem to miss a shot; literally. We'd do all sorts of tricks with the rifles, even let a few bullets fly while blind-folded once or twice. No matter the circumstance, we always won. It drove that old bat of a carney mad."

     "Well, I'd imagine so. With a gift like that, you w-" Dice halted as you raised a hand to silence him, your interests suddenly appearing elsewhere. "Seriously, doll? Y'know, we really need to work on your manners. Y'a can't just hush-"

     "Hush," you murmured, looking off toward a row of games and concession stands. "Do you hear that?"

     Dice grumbled, but raised his head to listen. Surprisingly, he did hear what you were talking about. A jingle rose up over a few distant tents, smooth and silky against the sound of the soft drizzle. A band of voices singing cheerfully into the silence, harmonies perfectly in tune with one another.