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This is it. Prez is going to run out. I want to ram my stick through his goddamn eyeball.
Gemma chooses to materialize beside me. As much as I don’t need her here, she does serve as a distraction. Prez can’t keep his eyes off her tits and only sinks two stripes with his break. He scratches on his next shot. Then his pervert eyes are staring shamelessly at Gemma’s chest.
One of his balls is in front of mine, so I line up my stick at a steep angle, going for a tricky jump shot. The cue ball lobs over his ball and slams into mine, sending it straight into the side pocket. Gemma and Tate both scream happily. Prez unglues his stare from Gemma to watch what I’m doing.
I circle the table, eyeing all my options. One of my balls is in a difficult position, but I calculate the angles, sending the cue ball knocking into two different rails before it hits my ball. Then, magically, it drops into a pocket.
The rest are easy bank shots, sending more of my balls into pockets until I’m left with one last shot. It’s a fairly straightforward shot. All I have to do is hit it in. Nothing fancy.
But because this guy has pissed me off, I decide to fuck with him.
I set up my shot, angling my stick up at a steep curve. Everyone is silent as they wait for me to make my move. With a crack, I send the cue ball on its way. Masse shots aren’t easy and certainly not something you bank everything on, but I’m not some pool novice. I’m a fucking professional. It makes a wide arcing curve, almost like I’ve miscalculated or made a mistake, before swooping in at the last second to slam into the ball for the win.
Three to two. Our win.
“Holy shit!” Tate yells, grabbing hold of my arms and shaking me hard. “You fucking did it, man!”
The relief rushing through me is dizzying. We won and my girls are safe. Bozo stomps over to me and drops a keyring to the floor at our feet.
“Lucky break,” he sneers, kicking the keys so they skitter halfway across the room.
Prez stands beside him and narrows his eyes at me. “Keep her locked up or someone might steal her.”
I don’t know if he’s talking about the bike or my sister. Either way, I’m going to heed his warning.
“Good game,” I say, offering my hand for a shake. “I trust you’ll stay out of my way.”
He grips my hand, squeezing it so hard the bones ache. “And you better stay out of mine.”
Don’t fucking worry, stupid prick.
I’m hoping I never have to see your face again.
Sloane
Something happened tonight.
Something scary.
And Dempsey shielded it from me.
I’m pissed and confused.
Don’t text him.
Don’t freaking text him.
With a huff, I sit up in bed and turn on the bedside lamp to unplug my phone from the charger.
Me: What happened tonight?
The dots move and then stop. He leaves me on read. I have a good mind to drive my ass over to his house and demand answers. I’m sure Jamie would love that. Sighing, I try another tactic.
Me: Come over.
This time, he responds.
Dempsey: Did your date leave you unsatisfied?
