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“It’s good, little girl,” replied Karl, the smoother of the two. “It’s good, we left port the day after we saw you, but it was a good stay there.”
And Kato was still glaring at Kristian but managed a tight nod, a short grunt, and that was enough. I took a deep breath.
“Well, nice to see you again,” I trilled, seizing Kristian by the arm. “Come on Kris, let’s get out of here.”
But the big man wasn’t put off.
“If I’m not mistaken,” he said laconically, “you know these two men from somewhere.”
“Right, Andorra,” I replied quickly. “Like they said, we’re old friends from home. Come on, they’re going to miss me at Miss Carroll’s,” I said, all the while futilely tugging him towards the door. “It’s getting late, we gotta go.” But there was no way my small form could budge his huge mass so Kristian remained rooted like a giant statue, his impassive face taking in the twin towers.
“Well, if I’m not mistaken,” he drawled, “there’s something between you and these dudes, something passing through the air that any dumbass can sense. I’m not going to ask what it is because it’s none of my business, but I’m ready to challenge them for you.”
And the three of us turned to look at him, dumbfounded. What the hell? Challenge? Was this some prince-speak that I couldn’t understand? It sounded like right out of the storybooks, King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table, only knights “challenged” each other to duels for the hand of the fair lady. What was going on?
But the twins jumped at the chance.
“Sure,” growled Kato, never one to pass up a fight.
“We’ll take it,” drawled Karl, “and we’ll make it even easier for you,” he added. “Your choice of weapon.”
And now I gasped, half horrified and half mystified. Again, it was like we were in some dream world,Assassin’s CreedorDouble Dragonmaybe. Weapons? Combat? What the hell was going on? Was someone carrying a gun?
But Kristian just laughed heartily, tipping his head back, that handsome face in profile.
“You’re living in the Dark Ages,” he rumbled. “But I agree. I choose cards. Blackjack to be exact.”
“You’re on,” rasped Kato without missing a beat, his eyes shooting daggers.
And helpfully, the bartender piped up at this point.
“We have a back room, perfect for a card game,” he gestured, flicking a thumb towards the back. Magically, a door swung open, revealing a dimly lit space behind him, a table with chairs, a bare bulb hanging from the ceiling. “You’ll have privacy back there.”
And just like that, the competition was on. Except instead of trophies or a ribbon, the men were competing for me. I was the grand prize in this high-stakes match.
KATO
Iknew exactly who the fucker was. Prince Kristian of St. Venetia, our older half-brother, heir to the throne, the reason why our father had never acknowledged us. The dude was the real thing, the favored son of the blood royal, while Karl and I were illegitimate good-for-nothings, treated like rotting trash.
But I have to admit, the fucker looked good. Almost a carbon copy of my twin and I, Kristian was just as tall, just as massive, with the same dark hair, the same piercing blue eyes that stared back at me each morning. But the expression on his face … it was pure arrogance.
His smirk was all too familiar, looking just like my own, and I fucking hated it on sight. I guess Karl and I have always had inferiority complexes, knowing that we were bastard sons. And that’s why I’ve always hated comments that brand us as big zeros, with no potential, destined to a life of drudgery. Because the fact is that my twin and I are from a royal family and should have had the world at our feet, every door open, every opportunity available. Well, fuck that. Karl and I were determined to make our mark in our own way, in our own good time.
Meanwhile, this loser in front of us was looking at Tina like she belonged to him. WTF? Fuck that. Tina belonged to us, she was our girl, and this dumbfuck better get himself in line. He was staring at her like he owned her and I needed to put a stop to this shit, pronto.
But there are benefits to lying low, so I forced myself to go slow, lie in wait. I took a deep breath, telling myself to stay calm, get in the zone because the asshole had it coming and didn’t even know it, challenging us to a game of blackjack. I’d almost laughed aloud when I realized what was happening. Karl and I are cardsharks, this kind of shit is right up our alley, we’ve played thousands of hand, both on-line and in casinos at various ports. After all, what do sailors do in their free time? That’s right, drink, fuck, and gamble.
So I was seriously stoked, taking a seat in that back room, exuding masculine confidence. The environs weren’t great, a dingy space with nothing but a table, three chairs, and a bed in one corner, the mattress saggy, the iron frame rusted. But hey, at least we had privacy and Kristian? That guy was about to get his ass beat.
“Ante up,” I commanded and the two other threw in their chips, the soft green velour of the tabletop muffling the thunks. But Tina interrupted.
“Where do I sit?” she asked plaintively. “There are only three chairs.”
I cursed the dump silently, all the while looking around. The brunette could have perched on the bed, but then she wouldn’t be able to see the game and I assumed she wanted to follow the match, seeing that she was literally the spoils.
Suddenly an idea popped into my mind.
“Come sit in my lap, baby girl,” I rumbled. That elicited a growl from Kristian as the plump brunette made her way over to me, nestling onto my thighs, but he shut his trap having no better options, eyes glaring like dark coals as he took in the set-up. What was he going to do, make her sit on the floor?
