Fold (Dallypop)

Chapter Six: Mr. Unlucky

(Two-bit's POV)

I sauntered into that party like I owned the place, cards in hand and a smirk on my face. But Lady Luck had turned her back on me that night, leaving me with empty pockets and a sinking feeling in my gut.

Those greasers across the table weren't just playing for chips; they were playing for keeps. And when the game was over, I found myself on the wrong end of the bet, owing more than I could afford.

As I stumbled out into the morning light, the weight of my debt hung heavy on my shoulders. I could feel their eyes burning into the back of my skull, like vultures waiting to feast on their prey.

***

"Hey, Two-bit," one of them sneered, a twisted grin on his face. "Looks like you left something behind at the table last night."

I tried to play it cool, masking my unease with a casual smirk. "Just a temporary setback, fellas. I'll get you your cash soon enough."

Their laughter echoed through the empty street, and the tension thickened as they closed in.

"Temporary setback? That's not how it works, Matthews. We want what's ours," another one growled, cracking his knuckles.

I glanced around, hoping for some divine intervention, but the deserted neighborhood offered no salvation. "Look, can't we work something out? I'll get you the money, just give me some time."

Their leader stepped forward, a menacing glint in his eye. "Time's up, Two-bit. You should've thought about that before playing with the big boys."

As we stood in the shadow of the Curtis house, I swallowed hard, knowing I was cornered. "Listen, let's not do anything stupid. We can figure this out without involving anyone else."

Their laughter mocked my plea, but I kept my eyes on them, refusing to show the fear bubbling beneath the surface. The Curtis house loomed behind me like a sanctuary, and I prayed that maybe, just maybe, my luck would hold out long enough to find a way out of this mess.

I squared my shoulders and met their gaze head-on, ready to confront whatever fate had in store. Because when you're a greaser like me, sometimes the only thing you can count on is your own two-bit luck.

"Two-bit?" I heard another voice.

Ponyboy.

I took a risk to turn around. He was standing on the edge of the porch. I was hoping he didn't take another step.

"Stay where you are, Pony!" I yelled out.

"Two-bit what's going on?" Pony continued.

Oh for the love of Christ, kid.

I couple of the guys looked up at Ponyboy and snickered.

"Aw... Does Keithy have a little bodyguard to protect him?" They teased.

I looked around for something to protect myself, anything. I'd take a pillow at this point. My eyes darted everywhere until, bingo, down on the ground near the fence. A pop bottle.

I made a run for it, clutching the bottle tightly, I didn't want to lose it. I broke it against the fence and held the broken bottom away from me. I jabbed it at the leader. He stepped back a bit, but otherwise unfazed.

"The fuck is all the noise out here!?" I heard a deep voice shout. Dally?

I backed up so I was going through the fence gate to the Curtis house. They card freaks weren't following me. I closed that gate with a loud squeak, that's when I turned around.

Dallas Winston was leaning against the wall of the house on the porch. His white old man's hair looked like absolute shit, but I wasn't going to be the one to tell him that. For once he didn't have on his leather jacket (good for him it's like- boiling outside).

His cold blue eyes glared at the people threatening me. Then Dallas let out a cold, dark, witchy cackle that made Ponyboy scoot away from him. Dally walked right up to the fence wearing only a black t-shirt and worn out jeans.

"Ain't ya the boys whose leader I beat the piss outta?" Dally said with a deadly smirk.

I had no clue what he was talking about, but I didn't feel like asking him at the moment. I ushered Ponyboy inside, followed by me. Soda was in the living room, sagged on the couch with a bowl of Cheerios in his lap. No milk, just dry Cheerios, they weren't even the honey kind.

"Ey, oo gis. Was up?" Soda asked, I think, with Cheerios shoved down his hatch.

"English, Soda." I sighed.

Soda swallowed and set the bowl on the coffee table in front of him. He sat up, straightening his posture. I took notice that his legs were shaking, I shrugged it off.

"What's up?" Soda repeated.

"Dally may, or may not, be beating the crap out of some guys." Pony explained, like he really didn't care.

"What!?" Soda exclaimed.

He ran outside without hesitation. Soda was just trying to stop an (very) unnecessary fight, but Dallas looked pissed off. Whether it was from the guys or something else I didn't know. But I didn't dare mess with him.

"Soda, hold on-"

He was gone, the door had already been slammed shut. Pony and I jumped on the couch to look out the window. We couldn't hear anything, except for the times where people were yelling.

We watched as Soda walked off the porch while Dallas had a guy by the collar of his shirt, lifting him off the ground. Soda started running and placed his hand on Dally's shoulder. Pony pressed his face into the couch.

As soon as Soda's hand touched Dallas' shoulder Dally dropped the guy to the concrete sidewalk (ouch). Dallas' head snapped around as he turned his body. Against my better judgement I ran out to stop whatever was going to happen.

"Get. Your. Hand. Off. Of. Me." Dallas growled as he had a grip on Soda's wrist.

Soda was shaking, his eyes were wide. And I could hear him sniffle up a sob.

"Dal, let go," Soda protested as he tried pulling away from him, "you're hurting me, let go."

I walked up to Soda and Dallas as Soda protested. As soon as Dally heard the word hurting, something in him, snapped. His expression turned, softer... nicer? And the grip on Soda's wrist loosened until he dropped it. He almost looked guilty.

Naw, no way. Couldn't be Dallas Winston, guilty? Yeah right, Dally never regretted anything. Not even when he roughed up Steve a couple years back for taking his cancer sticks. I remembered that night because Steve was in the hospital the next few days.

Soda immediately stepped away from Dallas, bumping into me in the process.

"Oh, sorry, Two-bit..." He mumbled as he ran back inside.

I watched as Soda went into the house, slamming the screen door behind him like always. I turned back to Dallas, looking behind him in particular. The card freaks were gone. They must've left when they saw Dallas handling Soda.

"H-Hey... thanks for um-"

Before I could finish without stuttering, Dallas was already halfway down the block. He left the gate open, so I closed it before turning around. I saw Pony peaking his head out of the wind once more. Dallas' footsteps were faint, he was already halfway down the street.