Surprise! 2 songs for this chapter (I couldn't choose! I'm not good at making decisions lol)

The song mentioned for the first part of the chapter is  'Don't take your gun to town' by Johnny Cash right here: 

https://youtu.be/CoxQWFtqaYM

And then (you'll know when it changes), it's 'Down to the bottom' by Dorothy 😉 in the header.

Oh, and here are the aesthetics for the coming chapters to put you into the mood 😈 I hope you'll like them!

'Take me down, everybody down

Take me down, down to the bottom

Take me down, everybody down

Take me down, down to the bottom'

"You sure?" Blade insisted on the words, adding emphasis with his gaze under a lifted eyebrow, and pushing the question he'd already asked too many times.

What was it that was making the dangerous bad boy so hesitant? It was just a bar, and we were coming from a shooting range.

Of course, what Pete had revealed was frightening. But Blade wasn't scared of anything, and it wasn't the first time I stepped into dubious places of his world.

What could possibly happen here in one night?

I glanced at the neons forming the words 'The Drillin' above the door and contrasting with the washed-out gray facade, my eyes avoiding carefully the large windows on the sides where I'd glimpsed silhouettes in a heated conversation some night when I'd walked near.

It didn't look recent, nor particularly welcoming, but none of the buildings around were, and we couldn't judge only on appearance.

"Yes." My gaze came back to Blade before sliding down to my own appearance.

My hesitation was more about this because even if I'd chosen a discreet A-line skirt and blue tee-shirt, I wasn't sure it was the most appropriate for this place.

It seemed I never fitted in. I wasn't ladylike enough for tea parties, but I was too much ladylike for bar dates.

However, Blade reminded me of the most important part of my outfit as he put his arm around my waist, his hand resting on the slight bulge that I'd managed to hide with my cardigan.

"Until when do you have?"

"My parents said they'll come back from their dinner around midnight, so I have to be home before 11.45 p.m." This sounded a little too much 'princess-like'.

Though there was no ball or castles here, and when he opened the door for me, letting me enter first, no hint of fairytales remained here.

Well, the room was wider than I'd expected, stretching in towards the back, as the building was surely hiding more space with the stairs and various doors there. Yet it was nothing like the Rose's diner's large room, and nothing either like the 'Wel's' grungy diner from my birthday. It was nothing like any place I'd ever been, and it left me with a sensation between a shiver of unknown and a spark of curiosity.

The atmosphere was dark and 'gloomy' as Blade had described it. But it was mostly because of the low pendant lights and red neons scattered in two rows around the room and the dark brown colors of the walls. Otherwise, it wasn't dirty; at least, I didn't catch any dust on the bottles behind the counter on the right, even though there were some suspicious stains on the floor, which I guessed didn't wash off with soap.

Instead of menus displaying the choices, of large glass boxes of straws, and colorful pictures on the walls, there were road signs from the famous 66 to 'flooded' and 'danger', half-full ashtrays, and beer caps arranged to form the bar's name on one wall.

People weren't here for milkshakes and breakfast; it was clear in the acrid smell of alcohol and smoke filling my lungs from where I'd stopped one step into the room.

The few people here and there had either bottles of alcohol in their hands, cigarettes, or both, well except for some couples or more whom I didn't try to look for their hands in all the tangled fleshes.

"I told you there was nothing worth seeing," Blade whispered above my ear, the warmth of his tall figure against my back tempting me to turn back in so many ways, and it was even more deviously timed that it was just when my gaze, which had started from the counter, passing by the metal tables, stools, and booth seats, was almost reaching the other side without stopping.

"Darts? And pool?" Before Blade could think of making me turn away, I was tugging on his hand and rushing to the left corner of the room, where something was finally catching my attention. "Can you teach me how to play?"

The green table was unoccupied, and it just appeared perfect as his half-disbelieving, half-knowing chuckle tickled my nerves with a 'you're crazy' echo. Maybe I was because, for me, there was a lot to see with the colorful balls scattered around the table, the black and white target, and even a shiny jukebox. 

This corner was probably the most colorful – if we could really call it that way with the faded colors illuminated by red neons – and it was already my favorite, much more than the dark hallway peeking through a door in the back, although I would surely ask Blade to show me around at some point.

"You don't know how to play?" He lifted a dubious eyebrow as we stopped in front of the table, probably not believing that the girl who could beat him at shooting didn't know how to play pool.

But Grandpa hadn't got the time to teach me, and it wasn't a 'ladylike' activity, which I would have learned with my mom or Daisy; it was obvious when I leaned over the table to gather the balls, my skirt riding up with my eager movements.

"No, I've never played before."

It definitely wasn't a 'ladylike' activity when Blade's lips slowly stretched in a sly smile full of bad intentions.

"Oh, I like to teach you new things..." As if the words leaving his smirk weren't enough, he matched the words with action, handing me the stick at the same time, and it wasn't necessary to mention his eyes and the twinkle there. All together, it was overwhelming, and I was already losing my breath.

I'd thought he would have waited for after, but apparently, he'd changed his mind as a streak of sparks followed his gaze on the exposed skin on my neck.

I wouldn't complain though; I liked to learn new things with him, and through his unique lessons, innuendos, Cheshire cat's smiles, trails of sparking powder, and tingles of adrenaline, I quickly forgot everything else.

It didn't matter if I was fitting or not, neither the gloomy place and dangerous what-ifs. With my evil genie, I was a shooting star, whether we were at a fancy party, lost in a desert, or in my bedroom, and it was no exception as the balls started rolling on the green cloth. 

"25-35, great comeback, Dorothy!" Wayne announced after some time, of which I had no idea how much.

My only point of reference was that the red ball had just rolled out of the table, like I'd predicted, and my concentrated frown was giving way to a smile for the twenty-fifth time.

"On which team are you?" Blade cocked an eyebrow at the boy sitting on a stool a few feet away from the table.

"In the winning team," Wayne replied, flashing a smile in my direction, in all friendliness of course, yet it still made Blade's gaze turn sharper on the guy and then, on me and my victorious grin, which wasn't faltering even as he stepped closer.

The blue was far from icy so that was the most important as I held his gaze, and I was actually cherishing to see him relaxed when there were his 'non-friends' around, well, some of them. I hadn't seen Rye, but some faces were familiar, maybe from the other night when I'd interrupted their 'business' meeting.

It seemed that most of the people in the bar were from his gang, as they all greeted each other with nods, and a lot of men and even women were wearing leather jackets, and apparently, the hole that I'd thought as a snag on Blade's collar was their recognition mark.

It resembled a den as they were scattered all over the bar, and it was my only indication that quite some time had passed, the room filling while the darkness was invading the windows. Even our corner had filled, with Wayne obviously, but also Kurt, Morris, and some guys playing darts, talking about motorbikes, or sipping alcohol while watching our match and the great attraction I was, defying the dangerous Blade Sayer.

They all knew him, and judging by the way they looked at him in a mix of respect, fear, and envy, it was really showing me more parts of him. It was one of his places, even if not secret, and I was discovering the Blade Sayer everyone saw here, the future gang leader.

I wasn't sure if it was falling on me just at this instant as I lifted my head out of the game to grab the chalk or if it had built up in my insides, but a weight was crushing my guts, threatening to come back in my chest like it had when I'd talked with Pete, and when my gaze slid to all the people around us, it didn't help. From Wayne's round and smooth tattooed face to Morris's wrinkles and all the men around, it made it clear that they started their illegal activities before even being 18 and they continued all their life.

'It's a trap', Pete's words were still echoing in the back of my head, dragging my smile down, and I really had to pull myself together or my possible victory would follow down too.

It wasn't the moment to think with the thick smoky atmosphere and faint background music coming from the jukebox mixing with chatters. I would save this existential question that I doubted I could have a say in it for once I would be home.

I had enough distraction with Blade next to me, or more exactly, half behind me as I leaned to aim.

"Maybe we should've put some stakes." The devil whispering above my ear was really distracting me.

Yet was it only from the game? I wondered if he could see my preoccupations as he paused to breathe, still over my ear, and make sure to send the devious words deep inside, and like fire, they burned down everything on their way. More than my focus on the game was engulfed, and it may have been dangerous.

"So I could finally get what I'm waiting for..." He pulled away after a light push of his hips, and I knew there was at least one thing I didn't have to worry about even if I forgot everything: the time because he would definitely ensure we had some time alone with the stars before I had to go home.

However, it didn't make it easier to concentrate on the game in front of me, and the 'two' I announced and aimed was lost the moment he decided to take off his jacket.

He was using the same distraction technique as when we'd been shooting the other day, and I was probably pathetic because it worked even better now that I'd seen what was under that white tee-shirt. 

The people around were lucky I didn't have a gun in my hand this time, or even a dart, because my stick slipped out of my grasp, and it was a miracle the white ball didn't roll out of the table.

"Aren't you hot?" he murmured the words over my ear as if they were only ours while he walked around me, the victorious smile now on his lips with too many bad intentions. "13."

"It's not fair." I crossed my arms over my chest, glancing around in search of some support, but except for chuckles that confirmed it was unfair, I didn't get anything, and I resolved to rake my brain for a way to get back at him.

It was mostly making me simmer more with sparks, and I had no way to retaliate, surely not with the same low blow as him with all the amused eyes on us, and it would only 'give him more reasons to win' anyway.

So I was left watching him positioning himself, his taut muscles more evident in only his white shirt, and I wished my glare following all these little tensions until his inked hand could make him slip. It was hopeless wishing...

"Blade! Where's that fucker of Blade?! Ah, Blade!"

Maybe it wasn't that hopeless as the loud voice that echoed throughout the whole bar made Blade's fingers grip too tightly the stick, and thus the ball bounced against the cushioned side instead of rolling softly in the pocket.

However, when my attention turned to the owner of the voice, my victorious grin didn't get to form.

"Rye, what do you want?" Blade straightened up, and although faint, through the white fabric, I could glimpse all the tensions remaining in him, one more adding at the corner of his smile.

"I want to know how it's going with the delivery. My dad isn't paying you to play pool." Rye raised his chin, walking with his chest puffed, and all the must-haves of a leader.

Yet when he stopped by the pool table, the three feet width of wood couldn't prevent Blade's dangerous aura to overpower him, and everyone around could feel it.

From my other end of the table, I was in the front row to notice the difference as Blade barely moved an unaffected eyebrow.

"I already talked with Otto, this afternoon, and everything is settled." His gaze found me in a sideways glance, instantly reaching my chest. "I have a genius plan."

My plan. They would use it tomorrow morning; he'd let me in the secret, which only a few of his 'colleagues' were in, because I was the 'evil genius brain' like he'd called.

I wasn't sure if I should have been proud about this or not, but my chest was definitely swelling at the way his smile relaxed while looking at me, even if it didn't last.

"Oh, Dorothea is here?"

Apparently, I'd found someone that could make me dislike my full name almost as much as my mom's severe voice when she sermoned me, and the dripping fakeness actually had the same effect on my ribcage, especially when Rye turned to me.

"Glad to see you've accepted the invitation!" He could offer me a wide crooked smile, but it held no magical power, and even if the distance between him and me around the table was about one foot shorter than between me and Blade, Blade was already standing beside me, even a little ahead, when Rye reached me.

"Chill! No need to be all protective! I was just being polite," he sneered, sounding anything but polite and innocent, and it was worse when his face fell back in a serious expression. "I'm here to talk business with you."

"I talk business with Otto, not you," Blade replied flatly, and I was just on the right side – literally – to catch his dimple deepening. In there, were all the revelations Pete had told me, and seeing Rye's unwavering proud stance, there was no need to be a genius to connect the dots.

He didn't know about the official offer his dad had made to Blade, probably this afternoon.

"For now, but you should listen to my offer." He leaned closer as if about to reveal a deadly secret, so I almost jumped when he pulled back to continue loudly. "I can get us buzzhead."

I had no idea what he was talking about, but whatever it was, it was bad news, as Blade's dimple disappeared instantly.

"We don't do that fucking shit." He turned away without waiting for a reply, his attention going back to the game; at least, that was what it looked like, yet his stick was still on the other side, and I was starting to be familiar with this sharpness in his voice, and in his posture.

I was about to reach and search for his gaze when Rye was faster, leaning over the other side of the table. "I know you convinced my dad, and he took pity, so he doesn't want to upset you."

Rye clearly hadn't inherited his dad's brain as he rolled his eyes and pouted mockingly, like he wanted to upset the killer Blade was.

"But I have something that could make you reconsider it." His eyes flickered to me for a micro-second, probably wondering why I was still standing beside Blade during their 'business' conversation.

Yet the tensions in Blade were keeping me in place, figuratively and literally. I wouldn't leave his side, but I was also paralyzed by his tensions even if I wasn't touching him.

I wanted to reach for him, even grab his hand; however, he was firmly holding the rim of the table as he faced Rye.

"We both know the pigs are after our asses, and whatever plan you have, it isn't infallible. The cargo is a lot of money and a lot of dope..." Rye sang out like he was talking about cookies and games. "If you get caught, in the best case, you lose your kiss-up place with my dad, and in the worst... you go back to the big house from where you come from."

"Don't worry about me. It's my job 'cause I'm the best, and I know what I'm doing." Blade's smirk was back, his whole figure relaxing as the matter diverted slightly.

Yet in me, the tensions were still there, taking over every inch of my body, and particularly my chest. I was always coming back to the same what-ifs, maybe because they were part of Blade's reality, the risks and dangers.

"I'm worrying, and that's why I have a friendly offer that could spare all of this to you and all of us." Rye glanced around, making sure to catch everyone's attention around, although they'd been watching since long, and even the men playing darts had stopped, the heaviness in the air probably too much for the darts to fly.

"I have a contact that can sell us buzzhead at rock-bottom prices and assure us a pass with no hitch."

The discretion was a criminal requirement that Rye clearly didn't possess as his 'secret' announcement resonated until the farthest end of the bar, silencing everyone until I could even recognize the Johnny Cash's song coming from the jukebox. Though maybe it was just inside my head that the words 'pass with no hitch' resonated and clashed with the lyrics 'And wondered at his final words... Don't take your guns to town son...'

I reached for Blade's fist, and this time, it wasn't to try to ease him. The tensions were only mine, and I needed his warm skin to erase the shivers running down my guts.

Though, he looked sharper, tenser, and taller than ever as he lifted his chin.

"We don't need their buzz-shit. I have the best team, the best plan, and we'll rock it like the Crossbones we are!" he declared, his voice not louder than Rye's, but his rolling words and sharp tone reaching farther as everyone reacted, howling and raising their fists.

Seeing all those arms lifted in cross signs above their heads, it confirmed that most of the people here were from the gang, and what in theory could have appeared frightening, with all the raised bottles, large muscles, crossbones signs and tattoos, and the loud shouts, was strangely melting the shivers I'd felt before.

It was like some human chain, emanating strength and power as all those scary bad boys and girls were coming together, and they were all united by one person and his Cheshire cat's smile.

Blade had really all the qualities to be a leader and a criminal as he added lower, the words seeping between his teeth to only cut through Rye, "Now, get out of my sight before I make you."

It was all about knowing when to be loud, when to be discreet, and all the nuances in-between, and Blade was a genius at contrasts.

He had all the people around going back to their previous activities with even more enthusiasm, which meant mostly, toasting and drinking, while Rye was yielding, not without trying to keep the leader composure he didn't possess though.

"Okay, I let you have fun with your little princess." He threw me a large smile, his eyes still sparkling at me like I hadn't caught his inside joke, and a punchline where I showed him who I really was crossed my mind for a second as he waved his hand. "But think about it."

I let out a sigh of relief I'd been holding for too long, and I squeezed Blade's hand as soon as his fist opened and his fingers slipped between mine. Okay, it was a shaky breath, and I could still feel the tensions in his large hand. However, I had a few ideas to make us both forget as Rye walked out of our sight, and Blade turned to me.

I could almost glimpse these same bad intentions ready to light up again in the blue expanse when something switched off in his gaze, or maybe it was on – I wasn't sure.

His gaze didn't turn icy like what I feared so much, but maybe it was worse. There were a billion emotions overwhelming his eyes like a tsunami, and the strength of the wave knocked my breath out of my chest.

I wanted to ask what was happening or even hopelessly reach for him and pull him out of whatever was crashing on him. But I didn't get to do anything.

It all happened too fast. One second I was watching the stars ready to shine turn into a cataclysm in the transparent shades of his gaze, and the next, all I saw was his inked hand landing on Rye's sick smile behind him.

Only at this instant, did I take in that Rye had never left, and he had been whispering something to Blade. Though when the realization hit me, they were already wrestling on the floor, where the stains there took on their full meaning with the blood coloring the branches designs of his tattoo.

"Blade!" I called, and in spite of my breathless state, the cry found intensity in my chest when Rye threw a hard punch at his jaw.

However, the raw call didn't stop them as they kept rolling, kicking, and punching, and I caught no hint of recognition on Blade's face. It wasn't the Blade I knew, nor any part I'd glimpsed of him.

I'd met the dangerous, sharp, and threatening man he could be. But here, he was the killer, or maybe even a murderer, as it wasn't self-defense.

He'd been the one to attack, and he still was as he got the upper hand, immobilizing Rye with his legs, and his punches kept coming with more and more strength. He wasn't even flinching at the blood now dripping from his fingers – Rye's blood – neither when the boy under him managed to retaliate with blows.

His body was tensed like I'd never seen before, his jaw looking like a deadly weapon, and his gaze, I couldn't see it as it was only on Rye, but I guessed it was as strong as his punches. It was like he was possessed, possessed by something inside him that Rye had summoned and that was uncontrollable, and if it didn't stop, there would be one more tragedy in this bar.

Why was no one separating them? Well, I caught movements and some voices around, but I didn't see farther than their silhouettes fighting on the floor, and every sound was engulfed by the hammerings of my heart, unless they were the thuds of their blows? Everything was a blur.

I should, myself, have done something to stop them. Yet I was too mesmerized, watching Blade's tall figure throwing punches one after the other and dodging almost each of Rye's attacks. He wasn't only strong, but agile too, just like his voice, and everything about him making him in a position of power to attack and not be touched.

I'd never seen anything like that, well, except maybe in movies, and I actually recognized some fighting movements and holds as Rye tried to get back up, and Blade always blocked him more and more. There was no doubt who would win, unless Rye found a miraculous or tricky way...

The moment I realized I wasn't seeing one of his hands, it was like the TV screen through which I watched the scene broke into a million shards, letting the stakes invade me in shivers and pull me into movements.

I wasn't more conscious of what I was doing exactly, as my mind was still as hazy, yet my body moved with no hesitation. I was guided by my instincts, and I felt everything deeply as I leaped on them.

Every detail was now heightened as I was part of the fight, feeling Blade's tensions under my hands, choking on the smell of blood and alcohol, and hearing their grunts and curses between the erratic bangs of my heart.

Mostly, I was seeing the ill intention shining on Rye's clear eyes.

"Blade! Please, stop please!" I was screaming in his ear, but he didn't budge, and for his defense, I myself didn't recognize the broken sound of my voice.

He wasn't seeing me either when I pulled on his right arm to make him look at me, and he pushed me away with a rough movement.

It wasn't towards me; I knew it, and the strength was just a fraction of what was directed towards Rye. With all the men rushing around to stop them, he was shoving away anyone that tried to stop him, and I actually felt more the blow of my heart against my ribcage than the bump of my behind falling back on the floor as my eyes searched for Rye's hands.

His left hand was sheltering him from Blade's fury, and his right one was somewhere inside his pants, surely not to grab a handkerchief.

But Blade was too blinded by rage to notice it, and it was in fact something darker than rage because he was deaf to my calls and insensitive, while my six senses were on alert.

I was back on my knees – I didn't have time to stand up fully – in less than a second, and this time, I didn't let Blade push me away. I used all my desperate strength to grip him as if my life depended on it.

However, he was still stronger, and I didn't manage to move him more than three inches, three inches that allowed me to catch sight of the knife in Rye's right hand.

Dun dun dun... I warned you it would be a sharp cliffhanger! 🙈🔪😬

Do you think Dorothy will be able to stop Blade? 😬 And what do you think Rye had told Blade to make him lose his temper like this? 🤔👀

So many questions, but don't worry, I'm not that evil, and I won't leave you on those three inches! So hold your breath, click on the ⭐, and then see you in the next chapter 😘😈