He arches an eyebrow at her and says, “I did. So?”
Rolling her eyes at him, she responds matter-of-factly.
“So, I didn’t know you could do that.”
He steps closer to her, and her chest rises and falls with heavy breaths. Leaning his head down again like he’s going to kiss her, he taunts her instead.
“There are a lot of things I can do, Killer. Including beating you and teaching you not to celebrate so early.”
She pushes the pool cue into his hands and places hers on her hips, tilting her head at him with a glare in her eyes.
“Wanna bet?”
Killian chuckles in amusement.
“What are we betting, Killer?”
She glances at Knox, and then me, before answering him.
“If you win, you get whatever you want. If I win, you have to be nice to me for an entire day.”
He takes the chalk to the cue, and shakes his head.
“Alright, Killer. You’re on, but this is the worst bet anybody has made. We all know you don’t even want me to be nice to you. It doesn’t matter though, because you will lose. I always win, Killer. Every fucking time.”
There are four striped balls left on the table, and the eight ball. She never had a chance of winning against Killian. Knox explained to her that if he doesn’t scratch, and gets the eight ball in, Kill wins. Still, with the odds clearly stacked against her, she exudes confidence that she should not have.
“Wipe the smug grin off your face, Killian. Knox said, if you get the white ball in, you lose. I’m counting on it. No one has this much luck.”
Killian lines up his shot, turns his head, and says, “It’s not luck, Killer. It’s skill. Corner right pocket.”
The ball moves to the pocket he called and stops, right at the fucking edge. Heather releases a delusional sigh of relief. I know she thinks she has a chance, but honestly she never did.
He moves out of the way so she can take her turn, and we are all shocked when she sinks not one striped ball, but two.
She turns to me with a wide grin, andfuck me, it’s beautiful the way her smile dances in her eyes. It’s too bad Killian is about to wipe that happy expression off her flawless face.
Killian takes his turn and, as I could’ve predicted, sinks the eight ball, winning the game.
“Oh, no,” Heather says with so much disappointment it makes my chest hurt. I’m desperate to make her happy. Even with a meaningless game. The things she has been through are more than one person can handle. She deserves to spend every day with a smile on her face. If I could trade my life for her to have that, I would. Unfortunately, that’s now how life works. I can’t protect her from everything bad life has to offer her. Especially not when the bad is embedded in her soul. Nobody knows that more than I do.
CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT
KILLIAN
Every morning I check the cameras before I even get out of bed to piss. The devices Jack planted quickly got added into the rotation. Last night they were online, but today ‘device cannot be found.’
A bolt of anxiety runs through my chest as I dial his phone number. After it rings four times, it goes to his voicemail, before I get a text alert.
Jack:He’s dead.
I jump up out of bed when my phone chimes with another text message.
Jack:We know where you are. Can you say the same about us?
“Fuck!” I yell to myself, and anyone else within earshot. Running down the hall, I bang on Knox’s door and then Carter’s.
“Get dressed and meet in the lounge.”
