“Hey there,” I said.
I had to stick this out. I had to play the game. Because when Duke was dead, there would be an investigation into what happened. I couldn’t go to jail.
“Where’s my drink?”
“You haven’t told me what you want,” I said.
“A man like you… mmm… I bet you like to switch things up. You don’t stick around for the same old thing over and over. You like something new. You like an adventure.”
The guy laughed and touched my hip. His fingers purposely snuck under my shirt. “That’s right, beautiful. You have me pegged already. So let’s make this an adventure all night. Go and surprise me.”
“You sure about that?”
“Try me,” he said.
Next thing I knew, I was taking drink orders for the entire table. From the corners of my eyes I saw the other girls working through the room. If one of them got to Duke first, I was screwed. Generally you’d want to keep serving the same guys drinks all night. That made you more money. And if you messed with anyone’s money, it wouldn’t end well. Yeah, the women would fight. I’d seen them fight over tips and men before.
I went to the bar and placed the order.
Behind me, one of the girls came up to me.
“Busy,” I said.
“It’s nice.”
“I’ve got the two middle tables. Just so you know.”
“Okay,” she said. “I’m taking the left side. Guess we’ll keep it simple.”
“That’s my plan. I already have ten guys grabbing at my ass.”
“Good for you,” she said. “Find out who has the biggest wallet and dick.”
I laughed. “Easy strategy, huh?”
“Sometimes. Sometimes you have to decide on business or pleasure.” She winked and walked away.
My drink tray was filled up and I carried it to the table. I served the drinks, had Clean-Cut-Blue-Eyes touch my lower back, going toward my ass, but I managed to wiggle away before anything else could happen.
That’s when I approached the next table.
Duke’s table.
I stood next to him as they played a hand of cards. I kept silent and let the game continue. Duke got everyone to fold and then nodded, not bothering to show his cards or say a thing. He was a stone faced guy and even when I asked what he wanted, he simply said a big glass of whiskey. He didn’t even bother to look at me. That sort of made things a little easier; I didn’t have to look into the eyes of the man I was going to poison.
Maybe the night wasn’t a complete mess after all…
**
I checked my surroundings and made my move. I was the only one standing at the bar. The glass of whisky was right in front of me. I couldn’t just pour poison into a glass right in front of everyone. So I waited for the bartenders to turn around. Grabbing the glass of whiskey I turned and slipped into the back of the room. There was a hallway where there were bathrooms and a large storage room.
That’s where I went.
In the room, I put the whiskey on a table and stared at it for a few seconds.
Do it. Quick. Pour it and don’t think about it.
I didn’t need to look guilty in anyway at all in this thing.
I reached into my top and grabbed the small vial. I twisted the cap off and my hand started to shake. I wondered what would happen if some of that stuff got on my skin. Would it burn my skin? Would it eat down to the bone and then some?
Slowly, I turned the vial upside-down, right over the glass.
It mixed with the whiskey and then I stood with the empty vial. I put the cap back on and looked around for my next move.
I had to ditch the evidence.
I spotted a drain with a checkered pattern opening. The gaps were just enough for the vial to go down. It was like I was meant to be a murderer. The vial fell and hit with a glass ping sound.
When I stood up, there was a small sense of relief that went through me.
All I needed to do now was take the drink to Duke and walk away. Then fate would take care of the rest.
I walked back to the whiskey and upon looking into the glass I couldn’t even tell there was anything in it. Hell, maybe Rocco and Gunner were just messing with me. Maybe there was no poison at all. They just wanted to see what I would do. Maybe Duke was somehow tied to Night Soul and all of this would become some kind of crazy joke on me.
I grabbed the glass, desperate to feel safe. To feel protected. To just feel okay.
I barely started to turn when a hand clamped down on my wrist, almost spilling the whiskey.
I let out a gasp.
Then I heard a voice.
“What are you drinking, darling?”
seven.
(trent)