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Immediately, a chair is thrown back and Butch is leaning over the table, and my wrist is released.
"Get your hand off her," he snaps. The two Norsemen stand and I throw Butch a worried glance. We're outmatched. No doubt Butch can hold his own, but little old me can't take them on.
The other Norseman, stares hard at me. "This your bitch?"
In normal circumstances, I'd be better behaved. I'd be rational and calculated. Drunk me, not so much.
"The fuck?" I gasp. "I'm no one's bitch. Shut your mouth."
It's like all the air is sucked out of the room. One minute I'm looking at black eyes, the next I'm staring down the barrel of a gun. My mouth jerks open as I freeze, terrified.
Next to me, Butch whips out his own gun and aims it at the guy. "Put it down or I'll blow your fucking arm off."
Seconds pass, with no one lowering their weapons. The dreadlock Norsemen watches me with a frightening death glare, but I do my best to not let on the fear I feel.
A door creaks open, light from the bar filling the room as footsteps move in.
"The fuck?" I hear Volts say, staring at the four of us.
Butch keeps his eye trained on the other guy with the gun, not backing down. "Volts, escort Lee out."
Slowly, the Norseman lowers his gun, having a silent conversation with his friend. They both turn, their eyes burning visible holes in my skin. "No need. We're leaving. But watch yourself."
I can't help but feel those last words were directed at me, and after they clear out of the room, I shiver. Volts raises his hands frantically at us.
"What the fuck was that?" he asks.
Butch puts his gun away, picking up the remaining chips. "Just a disagreement. Don’t worry about it.”
Volts frowns, looking between us. His eyebrows crease with concern but finally, he just nods.
“As long as everything is all good, man. You know we don’t want drama here.”
Butch grabs my arm gently. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” I mutter, looking at the ground. “Shit, that was a bit hectic.”
I’ve had a lot of shit happen to me, but having a gun pointed at my face, was not on the list. Well, until now. And all over a game of Texas Hold’em.
“Come on,” says Butch, leading me towards the door. “Let’s get you home. I think you’ve had enough excitement for one night.”
I climb the stairs slowly, listening for sounds inside the house. It’s quiet, so I assume everyone is asleep. I hope so, anyway. I really don’t think I have the mental strength to face anyone. I’m still trying to process everything. My mind is a fun bag of mess, probably on the scale that could be measured as a natural disaster.
As I approach my bedroom door, I sneak a look at Asher’s. It’s closed, and I breathe a sigh of relief. Grabbing my door handle, I twist it open. As I go to step in, the unmistakable click of a door opening sounds and my heart stops. Asher stands behind me, against his door frame as he takes in my appearance.
Concern crosses his face and I don't have much energy to fight. But still, can't let anyone know how I'm feeling.
"Good to see your problem sorted itself," I say, forcing a smirk and nodding towards his sweatpants.
I wait for a sneaky remark or comment, but nothing comes. He just stands there, looking me over as if he's trying to figure out a jigsaw puzzle. I shift uneasily, looking away as I step into my room. Holding the door, I pause. I'm not sure why, but I guess it's to see what he wants. Or perhaps because he wants to dish out another dare.
But nothing comes again.
The door shuts with a tiny click and I flick the lock. After tonight's performance of busting in on Asher showering, I don't want to take any chances of the same happening.
Peeling off my clothes, I drop them onto the floor in the walk-in as I make my way to the shower. It's been a weird day and night as such, and I can't wait to get clean and go to sleep.
Only when I am dressed in fresh pj's and wrapped in my blankets do I let myself feel. The emotion flows, tears falling as I beg sleep to take me quickly. The barrel of the gun is fresh in my vision every time I close my eyes, and I force my eyes open to avoid seeing it. I want to sleep… I'm exhausted. But it won't come without the sacrifice of closing my eyes and seeing my troubles staring at me.
