Logan didn't look convinced. Once again, he couldn't decide if I was completely clueless or faking the hell out of it.
It occurred to me he might be faking it too. He looked like a man who knew how to use a paddle, but could he hit a ping pong ball? Maybe it was best I didn't think too much about him using a paddle.
Was it possible that was his angle? He was trying to distract us with his size, and quietly confident demeanour.
Hunter called the men back. "Ink's turn to serve the ball in the second game."
Henry would want to win this one, partly to rattle Ink's confidence and partly because he'd be that much closer to winning the best of three games. Otherwise they'd risk going to five, which would exhaust both of them. Not to mention the nerves of those of us who sat and watched.
Did I have the stamina if all my matches took five games? I'd have to. If that was what happened. I'd have to fight until there was no fight left in me.
I glanced over to the two other women sitting in the bleachers. Both seemed to be thinking the same thing as me. We might have a better chance against each other than we would against the men, but this was what we signed up for, all or nothing. We'd have to be the badasses we knew we could be.
Henry took out the first game. And in spite of Ink fighting as hard as he could, took out the third as well, ending the match after about forty minutes.
"What happens now?" I whispered.
Ink was standing beside the table, tall but devastated.
"They're not just going to…"
Before I could finish that sentence, Hunter pulled out a gun from his pocket and put a bullet straight between Ink's eyes. They widened in surprise before he slumped to the floor with a bone jarring thud.
"Fuck," I whispered.
They weren't messing around, were they?
Hunter and Parker both hurried forward to grab Ink's arms and drag him away, leaving a trail of blood on the concrete floor.
The room was in silence for several heartbeats before people started to whisper amongst themselves. The anxiety levels spiking higher than ever.
"Well, that was fun," Bruno remarked. When I turned to frown at him, he shrugged with his eyebrows. "In a fucked up way."
"In a very fucked up way," I agreed.
Was that going to be me in an hour or two? Dead and discarded? My blood staining the floor? The reality of what I'd put my hand up for sank in deeper than ever.
I wasn't going to end up like Ink. I was going to win through this, and walk out on the other side, still breathing.
THREE
TASH
The second match went by in a blur. Gerald outplayed Lance from the very first serve. Lance, who stepped up to the table nervous, never managed to contain himself. His whole arm trembled every time he went to hit the ball, causing him to miss at least ninety percent of the time.
The match was barely done when Parker shot him in the back of the head.
"He didn't deserve to see it coming," he said, pushing his gun back into his pocket.
"That was short and sweet," Bruno said, still not looking rattled.
What would it take to get to him? I wish I had his stoicism.
"He didn't suffer long," I said absently as the twins dragged his body away.
Watching them gave me so many questions. Did they enjoy doing this? They certainly seemed to. Otherwise, why would they do it?
There was always something different about Dusk Bay, something darker, but I'd never seen anything like this. I hoped I never would again.
