Sleight of Hand [Show 'em Who's Boss #1]

1: The Deadly Game

The gun that brought us to where we are now sits on the table between us. I don't want to be the first to snatch it up, but I don't want him to get to it first either. When's the right time to act? Should I just go for it?

"Too scared?" he taunts with a chuckle from across the dim, murky room.

The only light comes from a glowing bulb hanging low from the ceiling and a draft from the badly boarded up window causes the light to sway to and fro sending spooky shadows across the room, morphing and dancing in the darkness like a native tribe dancing around a crackling bonfire. I've never been a fan of the darkness but it's particularly sinister right now. The light barely reaches both our faces, giving us each an eerie mistrusting aura which isn't too far from the true relationship between the both of us. I like to think that I look pretty damn menacing to him. In reality I probably look like hell. The past few days have been particularly painful for me. I have been constantly watching my back, trying to avoid a situation like this. I had suspected the plan wouldn't run smoothly, but I hadn't quite counted on an outcome like this even though I knew he'd betray me in the end.

The ceiling is lined with mould and damp, giving the place a cold atmosphere that's magnified by our hate for each other.

I glare at him, wishing that just my stare could make his body burst into flames, burning his flesh until he's nothing but ashes. A tortured death is what he deserves right now; slow and painful. It would be the perfect act of revenge before I drive off into the night. For a moment I can't believe that he was actually the second most important person in my life, and yet he'd betrayed me in such a way that is certainly unforgiveable. He'd tried to scam me.

I roll my eyes at him; of course I'm not scared! At least, I'm not scared of dying. Yet there is still that feeling inside of me, that tingling of worry and fear of the unknown fluttering in the pit of my stomach paired with the fight to survive. I try so hard to push it away but I can still feel it pulsing inside me. I can't let him see that I'm a little scared though; I need to remain calm and just get this over and done with. This needs to finish, right here, right now.

"You're joking, right? I'm not scared at all," is my false, cocky reply filled with all the confidence I could muster. It is an answer that he expects from me though and so it has to be said. I must hide that flicker of fear.

On the inside I'm gradually beginning to tremble. It is starting in the pit of my stomach and working its way into my head. I'm unintentionally letting the fear take hold of me. He has nothing to lose and so much to gain whilst I am in the opposite situation. I'm not scared of dying; I am only scared of the consequences of my death. The next few minutes of our possibly short lived lives will determine our fate. It may sound incredibly cliché but it's horrifically true.

He leans forward, his face being lit up by the small light above him. "You're not going to convince me out of this? Try to make a different bargain?" he asks, with one eyebrow raised.

"And why would I do that?" I reply. I'm not in the mood for bargaining. This is the deal and it isn't changing. It's the final decider.

"To save your life?" he suggests.

"Need I repeat my last question?"

"So you're not going to put up a fight at all? That's not the true Ebony I know; she would form a scheme to outwit me, she'd find a moment to trick me out of our deal and she absolutely wouldn't be beaten by a game. She's stronger than that."

I roll my eyes, I can't believe he's complimenting me and at the same time he's hoping I will die at my own hand. His mind is so twisted. It's too bad I didn't realise he was a psycho earlier than this. It could have saved a lot of hassle and pain.