Roulette

2nd chamber

I slide the gun over and fill his shot.
This time, i start the conversation.

"What about you? What do you remember?"

"Well, unlike you, i remember that night being filled with bad luck and even worse decisions."

"Like what?" I scoff. Honestly, Im surprised. Not the bad luck bit, the idea that ace would admit to making a bad decision.

"Well, it all started because i needed a stupid pack of smokes. Who's fault is that again?"

Ohhh shit. Yup. I totally threw ace's cancer sticks out the window when i found 'em. Forgot about that. Not that it matters, wherever this story goes, it ends with the cigarettes he's got in his hands.
Wait... is that...blood? Holy shit ace. I knew you were a monster on the inside, but this is... new. Congrats. You got my attention.

I finally spit some words out. "Nevermind who's fault it is. Im not the one who has blood on my hands. At least, not the owner of that blood."

I point to the spot on the paper pack stained red. He says nothing to this effect. Just smiles. The monster smile, like it knows something big, and I'm out of the loop. Again. He's got a lot to smile about recently. That's probably bad. Very bad.

"Oh this? This is the least of our worries. Still want me to walk you through what went down that night?"

"Those are the rules of the game, aren't they?" I facetiously ask. "I tell you what i remember and you tell me what you remember and we might just put a pretty picture together."

He pauses, a little dumbfounded, then asks "Was that... a puzzle joke?"

"Maybe."

"It was ridiculous."
I pause. is it too late to throw my chair at him? It doesn't matter. Im done dancing circles around this.

I smile and ask as politely as i can, "so, what do you remember from last night anyway?"

To which he, almost disappointed, mutters something along the lines of "I suppose we had to stumble upon the point someday." He continues on in his normal tone with "I don't remember much, but i do remember running to the gas station for smokes, and finding my pockets empty. I had a... fight with the cashier, and wandered home sore but smoking, with some extra cash on the side. "

Pfft, yeah. "Fight". Unless someone placed bets, there's only one way to get money out of fighting. Not only is ace a psycho, hes a thief. Question is, is it my problem?

"That's it? That's all you can remember of that night?"

"The important bits anyway." His whiskey slams. The Colt's hammer slides into place.

Click.