Page 50 of Raine Out (Grand Slam 2)

“We’re not shooting the cups with guns. We’re throwing balls at them. I would think professional baseball players would be pretty accurate at that.”

Allie grabs Alex’s hand and pulls him up to the table. His eyes are fixed on me.

“Our turn,” she says as Alex pulls his hand away from her. “Who wants to take us on?”

“We will,” Butch says as he pushes me up to the table. “We just need the basic rules. It looks like a shuffleboard table to me. Do we try to knock the cups over?”

Allie rolls her eyes. “Oh good God, why don’t you forfeit so we can get to a real opponent?”

“Naw, I don’t surrender, Abby. Lay down the basic rules and let’s get this thing started.”

“First my name’s Allie—”

“Don’t care,” Butch says as he grabs one of the cups on our side and chugs the beer out of it.

“Butch, you have to wait until the game starts to drink,” Ricky says as he refills the cup.

“I already don’t like this game,” Butch growls. “Give me the other rules.”

“Overall rules,” Alex says, looking right at me. “Throw the balls into your opponents’ cups. If you get it in, they have to drink. If you can get another ball in that cup before they’re done drinking it, that’s a death cup and the game’s over. You can toss the balls straight in or bounce them on the table first and then in. If you get a bounce shot in, your opponents have to drink two cups, but they can swat a bounce shot away—so high risk, high reward. You want me to go over them again?”

I laugh. “No, I think we’ve got it. You good, Butch?”

“Locked and loaded, Murder Hornet. Let’s play.”

“Murder Hornet?” Alex smiles. “New nickname?”

I shrug as I grab a few balls off the table. “You can go first. You’ll need a head start.”

“Okay. I see how we’re playing. A little trash talk.” Alex throws a ball in the air and catches it behind his back. “Oh, and one more thing, whoever gets the ball in the cup gets to choose who drinks that cup, and I’m coming after the Murder Hornet hard—all night long.”

He slings a quick bounce shot our way. Butch swats it hard, sending it crashing into a spectator’s head.

“Oh!” Alex’s teammate Manny grabs him around the shoulders and almost tackles him. “He slapped you into tomorrow!”

“Damn,” Alex says. “Nice reaction time.”

“He’s a fucking Navy SEAL,” Ricky laughs. “How do you think he’s not going to have quick reaction time?”

Allie looks up. “You’re a Navy SEAL?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Butch drawls out, smiling at her. “I am.”

I turn to look at him. “Didn’t we agree that you couldn’t drop the SEAL bomb?”

“I didn’t drop it, sister,” he says, pulsing his eyebrows. “Ricky did.”

“Clever. You tell the biggest talker at the party so he’ll drop it for you.”

“I need to win the bet,” he says. “I want to know if Culver slept with that waitress.”

“I hate you.”

“Are we playing or not?” Allie whines from the other end of the table.

I lob a ball and watch it splash down into a cup.

“Nice shot,” Alex says, nodding. “You’re a fast learner.”

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