Page 80 of His Last Shot
With a shove, I let go of Dexter and step away, observing his panting from what just transpired. He stands, tugging hard on his suit jacket andmeticulously smoothing out the front. The rustle of the fabric a contrast to the nervous beat of my heart. Rachel reaches us, out of breath from her sprint. I can’t imagine how that must have looked. Suddenly, disbelief at my reaction sinks into my gut, weighing me down.
She grabs my arm. “Are you okay?” I nod, lying. Her attention pings to her uncle, searching for answers. “What is going on?”
“Ask lover boy,” Dexter answers as he walks past her, confusion painting her features. He takes a determined step toward me. “You know what to do.”
With his same overconfident swagger, he waltzes out of the bar, patrons gawking, leaving behind the scent of his cheap aftershave.
I grab Rachel’s wrist and practically drag her to the back of the bar, where the tables remain covered, and the light is dim, shrouding us in darkness.
Tugging at my hair from its roots, I pace. My lungs can barely keep up with my labored breaths. Rachel just stands and watches me. “Johnny … what’s going on?”
I plant my hands firmly on my hips, the weight of what I need to tell her pressing in on me. “Your uncle wants me to throw the final match tomorrow.”
“What?!” she screeches out, then glances around, realizing how loud she was. She lowers her voice. “But that makes little sense.”
“Think about it, Rach,” I implore. “He knows everyone will bet on me. I’m the sure thing. Then, when I lose, on purpose, he—”
“Walks away big,” she says, realizing the situation for what it is. “Why would he do that?”
With a frustrated sigh, I cycle through the possible reasons. “I have no clue. Greed, financial troubles, power, control, take your pick.” She stares at me, her frown tight. “But that’s not the worst part.”
“What? What’s the worst part?”
The words catch on my tongue because I’m still in shock myself, my senses still dull from what happened. “He … he threatened my family if I didn’t do it.”
A strangled gasp breaks out while she wraps her arms around her body. “Do you think he would actually follow through on that threat?”
I throw my arms in the air, a silent scream building in my chest, then smack them on my legs in frustrated defeat. “I don’t know, Rachel!” I rub my hand down my face, wishing for any sort of escape from this madness. “You’re the one who told me people disappear with Dexter. So, yeah … I kinda believe him. I have never thrown a match.”
With determination, she stalks over to me and cups my face. Her touch is already doing wonders, bringing down my blood pressure. She’s my center. My north star. “Win. Do you hear me?” I scan her face, her eyes focused yet stern. “Win. I amdoneletting that man have an ounce of control over us. He’s trying to intimidate you, control you. Don’t let him. There is no way he would hurt anyone that I love. He’s full of empty threats.”
She’s right. I know she’s right.
But… “You have said yourself that people who have crossed him have disappeared. What if—”
“Shh,” she whispers as she places her index finger on my lips, the smell of her lotion wrapping around me like a warm blanket. Suddenly, my shoulders relax, my thoughts come into clearer focus.
My arms coil around her waist, and I pull her into me. “Okay. I’ll win. For us.”
“For us.”
24
It Will Make Beating You That Much More Fun
Johnny
It’s the day of the final.
I’m in my truck, the engine humming beneath me, on my way to Dexter’s, as a thousand and one thoughts race through my mind like a runaway train. The sheer number of them overwhelms me; I can’t keep them all straight.
My pool cue rests beside me on the passenger seat, and as much as this stick of maple has been my constant companion for most of my life, I wish it was Rachel sitting next to me right now.
She was beside me last night, though. After Dexter’s, she came back to my place, and we snuggled on the couch, talking through what might happen today.
I actually contemplated throwing the match, just to keep my family safe. But she wouldn’t allow for it. Her exact words were, “If you throw this match, I will never speak to you again.”
Well, that was that. Because not speaking to Rachel again is an option that is never on the table.
