Page 3 of Pain and Possession

"I see you brought a friend, a pretty one at that." He winks at me; I can feel my cheeks flush deeper as I look down at my hands.

You are literally less than six hours from death and you're blushing at a compliment. Come on, Olive.

"You're not too bad yourself." I say a little too quietly, taking a page from Lane's handbook.

She gawks, "Oh my god Olive, yes! Okay, we'll both have vodka and cranberry juice and like a bunch of shots of whatever."

He laughs. His bright smile is warm, miles away from the heated expression he wore moments ago.

"Coming right up ladies, the name is Ray by the way, but my friends call me Hock." He says, turning his attention back to me, his eyes lingering on my breasts. They are nothing compared to Lane's perkier than life C cups, but he doesn't seem to mind.

"Nice to meet you, Hock." I mutter, spinning the cheap rings on my fingers. Ignoring his amused smile as he gets to work on our drinks.

"Where the fuck did that come from?" Laney gasps, her eyes looking light and excited like they normally do for the first time tonight.

"A shot of whatever." Hock says as he slides two shot glasses to us on the bar.I pick mine up, not bothering to identify the liquid inside, "It's the end of the world, fuck it right?"

Laney throws her head back laughing as she climbs onto the bar expertly in her ankle breaking heels. My face goes bright red and thefuck itsentiment retreats into whatever place inside of me it came from.

"It's the end of the world. Fuck it!" She yells. Making the bar erupt in cheering, everyone yellingfuck itbefore tipping their drinks back.

Me included.

I assumed the bar would be jam-packed and somber but it's quite the opposite. Everyone is lively and celebrating instead of grieving. It's refreshing, if you didn't know any better, you'd have no idea we're all locked inside here… waiting to die.

There're maybe two handfuls of people in here all together, mostly women all adorning the laps of hardened looking men.I take my next shot as Lane talks to a girl she knows from work. The men are actually all dressed in similar, dark clothes, professional but casual at the same time. I realize most of the girls here are sex workers, some are girlfriends, maybe even a wife or two, but those seem few and far between.

I frown as I take in a group of three men posted up in a booth at the back of the room, their expensive looking suit jackets discarded on a neighboring table. Laughing and drinking, a cigarette still lit in the tray at the center of the table. Occasionally another man will approach them, always with caution, respect. My blood runs cold as my alcohol infused brain works overtime to connect the dots.

This is a mafia owned bar.

I'm surrounded by the very type of people that took my life from me. The type of people that I've made a special point to avoid. The type that took my parents from me. Lovely.

What an ironic place to die.

"Laney, please tell me you didn't bring me into the mob's playground." I say a little too loudly, earning us some apprehensive looks from the surrounding men.The alcohol drums through me throwing caution to the wind.

"Shhh! Olive, you're going to get us-" She stops short, her eyes darkening a bit.

I give her a loaded look, rolling my eyes.

"I just didn't want you to die alone…" she says, her voice small. Big tears filling her blue eyes.

I reach up, cupping her face lightly and leaning my forehead against hers, "If I'm gonna die, I'm glad I get to spend my last few hours being annoyed by you."

We both laugh as she wipes her tears away, before she leans up kissing me on the cheek.

"Yeah, I could get behind that." A tall, potbellied man mumbles walking up behind me throwing a heavy arm over my shoulder. He smells of cigars, beer and cheap aftershave, not a sexy mix. I glare at him as I shove his arm off my shoulders, my drunk self and my end of the world self tossing my self-preservation straight out of the window, "Don't touch me."

"Damn smalls, you got it." He says before raising his hands, walking to a table filled with more hungry-looking men.Their eyes on me feel hot and not in a good way.

"You aren't going to lose your virginity like that." Lane remarks, sipping her vodka through the comically tiny straw.

Faced with death, she still protects the integrity of her lipstick.

"I am not losing my virginity here, period." I pick up my glass, making a point of bypassing the straw anddowning the thing in one long drink. Not very ladylike, but I'm not really interested in people's opinions tonight. Some of the drink escapes my full lips and trickles down between my breasts.I chase the fast-moving drop with my finger, swiping it up before popping it in my mouth.

I watch as Hock drops his jaw dramatically before making a point to bite down on his bottom lip and shake his head back and forth.I can't help but laugh, starting to really feel the liquor and maybe even enjoy myself.He laughs too, taking a long swig from a dark bottle as his eyes go past me. His demeanor shifts immediately. An air of seriousness and caution overtaking his playful attitude that rivals even Lanes. He doesn't give me a second glance as he nods slightly. So slight I wouldn't have noticed if I hadn’t been staring right at him. With that he turns, giving his attention to other patrons and friends.The alcohol only barely suppresses the tinge of embarrassment deep in my chest at his sudden indifference. I frown, spinning a little too fast in my seat as my eyes land on the group of men in the booth again. Well, one of them. The one that commands my attention. Everyone's attention.

---