It slides the gun over to me and pours me a shot of the whiskey. Then i pick up the 1862 colt revolver and cock it. It's nice and vintage. Old school.
"What about Ivory?" The monster snatches me from my thoughts.
"What about her?" I flinch. Ivory. I wish things had turned out different. Oh well.
"Times were good with her, yes?" This said almost like he's getting at something. Digging for something.
"What's it to you, Ace?" I clearly didn't appreciate the prying. "You never liked her. What's with the sudden interest?"
"Well, this is a game isn't it? Lets make it an interesting one. Besides, I find your obvious fustration amusing."
....
I want to throw my chair at him. But fuck it, let's do this.
"Ivory wasn't perfect, But I wasn't either. We fought, but we still had some really good times."
"Like what?" More prying. He-sorry, it, is definitely up to something.
"Our first date. We swapped sarcastic comments and funny stories. Shared our favorite things and a bucket of popcorn at the movies. She was funny. And kind."
"Then what?" It digs further.
"Then we went for cones."
"Cones? As in ice cream? You're so childish…" ah. Mocking. Two can play at that game.
I spit back with "Obviously. But no where near as childish as you."
"Ouch. So spiteful. Oh well, just blame bad breeding."
…
I wish I'd thrown the chair.
"What then?" He asks.
"Then…" he gives me an off glance. "Then im not sure."
I throw back and slam down my whiskey, then point the gun at my head.
Click.
YOU ARE READING
Roulette
Mystery / ThrillerA psychopath walks in the form of a functional person, a shell of what he once was. With no concept of sportsmanship, he's too dangerous to be playing any sort of game with. And yet...here Quinn sits. With nothing but a bottle of whiskey, their memo...
