Page 20 of Game of Revenge

“I guess not,” she mumbles. “I love them too, but they won’t let me do anything fun anymore.”

“That’s not true,” Meyers grunts. “Do you want to shoot paintballs at the neighborhood kids, who keep walking in our yard and won’t pick up their trash? I’m absolutely down for you teaching them an attitude adjustment, baby.”

“Really?” she squeals, making me shake my head as I watch Kiernan bring back drinks. Chuck appears to have disappeared, and I furrow my brows.

I’m getting deja vu and it’s not a good feeling.

“Where’s Chuck?” I ask, my voice cracking with strain. “I thought he was going to help you?”

“He was, but he got pulled into a conversation. He’s alright, I have a feeling he’s being covert because not everyone watched him walk in with us,” Kier says softly.

“Chuck probably wants to see if anyone will be dumb enough to say something in front of him,” Carrie says, mimicking Kier’s softness. “Drink up boys, I have a feeling we won’t be here long.”

“To Brian,” I murmur, raising my beer up to the middle of the table. The guys and Francis follow my lead, dropping their heads in remembrance.

“I hate this place,” Francis mumbles. “He deserved so much better than this.”

Studiously ignoring the glances, we sit and drink, though my heart starts to pound when I begin to hear the sneers.

“There are those ass fuckers and their little sluts!” someone yells.

My face can’t hide my disgust, and my beer suddenly tastes foul.

“How else do you think they got this baby inside me?” Carrie yells, uncaring of who said it. “Didn’t you hear you can get a girl pregnant through anal? Damn knuckle dragging Neanderthal.”

Meyers’ lips twitch, his head nodding at his girl. “I would not be surprised if that’s how he thought babies were made,” he mutters.

“This place needs a good old fashioned fire bombing,” Francis complains. “Just a little one. Please?”

Our amusement is short lived as Chuck walks over to us. It looks as if he’s calm and collected, but his eyes are wide and worried.

“Finish up. Now,” he growls. “We have to get the hell out of here. It’s not safe.”

Leaving our drinks, we slide out of our seats as if that was the plan all along. If we rush, we’re inviting someone to come for us. We can’t allow that to happen with Carrie in our group. I know she’s a badass, but her pregnancy makes us all more protective.

Our steps are measured and not rushed as we walk out, pretending as if everything is normal.

“What’s wrong, Chuck?” Carrie hisses, worried. He’s not prone to hysteria, especially since he works often on the suicide hotlines. He’s a deep well of calm typically.

“Keep walking,” he mutters. “I noticed the people at the bar didn’t realize I was a part of our group, so I did a little snooping around.”

“Don’t keep us in suspense now,” Francis says. “Out with it!”

“A few of the guys there were bragging about killing Brian,” Chuck explains. “Sure, they could have been talking shit, but they talked about using their favorite bats and having to clean off the gray matter.”

“Fuck,” Francis breathes, looking over her shoulder. “We’re leaving this godforsaken town tomorrow. I refuse to stay another night here. I would say let’s go now, but don’t want to scare the kids.”

“I want their blood on my hands,” Carrie growls.

“Babe,” Meyers groans. “We just talked about this!”

“You can talk all you want. It’s a free country,” she rasps.

Something tells me this isn’t going to be the last time this comes up.

Kiernan

Yawning, I groan as I rub my eyes. I drank too much last night and now my head hurts. I’m in bed next to Tray, his arm wrapped around my waist as he snores softly.

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