Dean

I hate darts. Or maybe I don't. Maybe I hate the memories that come with it. Dark scenes that plague my mind and leave a foul taste in my mouth.  A taste no amount of water, whiskey or soda can wash down.

So why am I sitting here watching the guys battling it out on the dart board?

Because apparently I like to torture myself.

But I know that's not why. I've been trying to push myself out of my comfort zone recently, forge new relationships. One might think I know a lot of people with me owning a club–which I do, on both accounts–but all I have are acquaintances and a questionable history with people I thought were friends but actually turned out to be fucktards.

Shit, I need to stop using that word.

I scrub a hand over my face. Stacey is starting to rub off on me.

Figuratively of course, because she's not my type. That, and she's with one of the musicians who perform here regularly.

"Dean, my main man!"

Speak of the devil.

Michael slaps me on the back. "You making love to that bottle there?" He points to the bottle of water I've been nursing for the last twenty minutes.
"Nah, it's not really my type." I pick it up and down what's left. Bad move, because the water is relatively warm from sitting in between my hands for so long.

Michael laughs. "So you gonna join us for a big boy drink now?"

Tommy, my second in charge and senior barman for the night pauses, glass in hand, and his eyes shoot up to Michael. "Dean doesn't drink here."

Michael pauses. "What do you mean he doesn't drink here?"

"Exactly that," Tommy says. "He doesn't drink here, at the club."

Michael gapes at me. "Seriously? Why not?"

I shrug. "Bad for business."

"But–"

"Come on Mike, leave the guy alone. It's his club, he can do whatever he wants," Hunter interjects as he walks towards us, Duncan trailing close behind him.

Hunter is the oldest of us–though he's not much older than me–so it makes sense that he would be the voice of reason. I met him almost a year ago when he started dating one of the club's regulars and friend of mine, Alexia. He's also Michael's brother, and one of the most laid back people I know.

"Who won?" I lift my chin towards the dart board.

"I did. Naturally." Duncan smirks as he crosses his arms over his chest and leans against the bar.

"You cheated," Hunter mumbles.

Duncan laughs. "And you're a sore loser."

Hunter shakes his head and turns to me. "Can you believe this guy?"

I shrug again and take a gulp from the new bottle of water Tommy just placed in front of me.

"Dean, I don't want to rock the boat, but is the place always this quiet?" Duncan scans the club's floor, which is half full at best.

Duncan is the newest addition to the group. He's friends with Hunter, so he hasn't been here as many times as everyone else.

"Mondays are generally slow. Usually picks up from Tuesdays."

He nods in understanding. "Guess that makes sense."

Michael slaps his hand on the bar. "I told you man, Karaoke. That's what this place needs."

I groan. "Don't even go there. It's not going to happen."

He shrugs. "Suit yourself. I for one wouldn't mind seeing the lot of you up there trying to do what I do all the time."

Laughter rolls over all of us just as someone bashes into the back of Duncan. "What the–"

The drunk blond guy who all but fell into the middle of our circle turns to look at him.

"Hey, watch where you're going," he slurs.

Duncan frowns. "I was just standing here, minding my own business dude. You should check yourself."

Blondie jabs at Duncan's chest. "Some of us are trying to enjoy ourselves."

"A little too much from the looks of it," I mutter.

The guy turns to me, a frown on his face. "What did you say?"

I sigh and swivel my chair to face him. "I said, I think it's time you leave."

The guy looks me up and down as if sizing me up. "And who the hell are you?"

I grit my teeth. "I'm the guy who's going to help you out of here if you're not prepared to help yourself."

His flailing body lurches as he scoffs, spilling half of his beer out of the bottle in the process. "Yeah? You and what army princess?"

It's suddenly gone quiet around us, everyone looking really interested in whatever they've got at their disposal. I push off the chair, stretching up to my full length. I see the guy's eyes widen, and the bottle in his hand trembles slightly as I tower over him.

At six foot four, I'm even bigger than Hunter who clocks in just over six foot. And I've got at least sixty pounds on most of the people who walk into the club. It's served me well, meaning I usually don't need to lift a finger to get my point across. I just need to stand tall and give them a look that assures them I mean business, and they back off. Which is fine by me. Because I'm fully aware of what I'm capable of doing, and it ain't pretty.

I lean towards him, my face as hard as stone, and he shrinks back. "Does it look like I need backup? Princess."

The beer almost drops from his hand, he backpedals so fast.

"Okay man, I-I-I'm leaving," he stutters.

As he scrambles away, a slow applause starts behind me.

"Well that was easy," Duncan remarks.

I grunt. "Usually is."

"I don't blame him though, not even I'd have the balls to mess with Dean," Hunter chuckles as he pulls out his phone.

"Okay, settle down," I say as I slap their hands.

Michael gives me a playful punch on the arm. "That was epic! We still heading over to lanes?"

"Yup, my night is still open." Duncan downs the last of his beer.

"Not me ladies, I'm out." Hunter shrugs into his jacket.

Micheal looks mortified. "What the hell?"

“I’ve got a date,” he says suggestively as he waggles his eyebrows.

“Awww man,” Michael groans.

“Have fun.” Duncan grins as he starts thrusting his hips and moaning.

Hunter makes a grab for him. “Fuck you.”

Duncan, being smaller and faster than him, ducks out of the way and laughs. “No thanks sweet cheeks. You’re not my type.”

Hunter shakes his head and laughs. He fist pumps Michael before giving me a firm handshake. "Enjoy guys."
I nod. "Send my regards to Lexi."

"Will do."

After he leaves Michael slaps me on the back. "Now that the old man has left, we can get this party started."

The bowling lanes are surprisingly busy for a Monday night, making all of us wonder if we'll even get a chance to play.

Luckily, a group of people come walking off as we get to the counter, so we manage to take over their lane. When we get to the lane, I type in our names and they show up on the display board.

"Mikey? You're shitting me right?!" Michael glares at me.

"Whoops, must have hit the 'Y' by accident. Oh well, no use in changing it now." I shrug, looking as apologetic as I can muster.

"You're such an asshole," Duncan chuckles. "I love it."

I smirk as I take a swig of my beer. "I try."

Michael picks up a ball and holds it to his chest, mimicking a professional stance. "I'm going to kick both of your asses."

Duncan holds out his arms. "Bring it Twinkle Toes."

Michael pouts before spinning around and making an over exaggeration of his bowl. The ball hits the lane, curves to the side and lands directly in the gutter, rolling all the way down past the pins and disappears from view. His second ball doesn't go over much better, and his turn ends with all the pins still standing.

"Nice one." Duncan makes a show of trying to high-five him, to which Michael slaps his hand away and mutters something under his breath.
Duncan is a better player, knocking seven pins down with his first throw and cleaning out the rest with his second.

He's pretty smug until I throw a strike with my first ball.

"You can play?" he exclaims in shock.

I shrug like it's no big deal. "I've played before."

He frowns. "A lot by the looks of it."

"How did we not know this?" Michael asks.

I shrug again. "You guys have never invited me out before."

"Shit. That sucks." Duncan looks guilty. Then his eyes light up. "We should start a league."

"Yes, definitely," Michael agrees.
I shake my head. "Nope. Not happening."

"You're no fun, you know that?" Michael says before grabbing a ball for his next turn.

His words make me think back to all the days I used to pass time on a lane that looked a lot like this one, while all sorts of horrors went down a few meters away. And I used to be a big part of it, but the day came when I just couldn't stomach the gruesome sights and sounds anymore. So I'd throw ball after ball, as hard as I could, trying to drown out the screams of pain and terror, only to hear them again the minute I stopped. I'd lose track of the time as I played, only knowing I should call it quits when I couldn't lift my arm anymore. Even then sometimes my willpower would help me throw a few more. I shudder involuntarily at the thought, just as someone clinks their bottle against mine.

I look up to find Duncan looking at me with concern. "You okay there buddy?"

I nod. "Yeah sorry man, got a bit distracted." I huff a small laugh. I'm not sure who I'm trying to convince more, Duncan or myself.

We play round after round, talking in between, and I whip both their asses by a far stretch.

When we're done we sit on the chairs for a while, none of us saying much until Michael breaks the silence.

"We going to play another round?"

I shake my head. "What's the matter? Having your ass handed to you once not enough?"

He makes a face and Duncan laughs. "Not funny man."

"It's a little funny," Duncan says before lifting a shoulder. "I'm down for another game."

"Why are you trying to keep yourself busy?" I ask Michael. "I would think you wouldn't be able to wait to get home to Stacey, you two can't keep your hands off each other."

"Correction," Duncan interjects. "They go at it like bunny rabbits."

Michael smirks at him. "Jealousy isn't a good look on you man."

Duncan makes a nonchalant face.
"Besides, Stacey is helping out with another shoot. She might not be back until much later. Sometimes these things go on until early hours in the morning."

Stacey is Lexi's friend and another regular at the club. She works for a fashion magazine or something like that. Her and Michael have been together about as long as Lexi and Hunter have. Although if you ask them they're not together together. And Duncan is right, they do go at it like bunny rabbits.

"So we playing another game or what?" Duncan asks.

I nod. "I'm in."

"Great," Michael says as he stands.
Duncan stands as well. "I'll go grab us another round."

With both of them gone, I take the opportunity to enter our names again, then sit back and wait for Michael's reaction.

He doesn't disappoint. He groans rather loudly when he sees his name. "You're killing me here man. Little Mikey?? For real?"

I lift a shoulder. "If the shoe fits."

He shakes his head. "I'll have you know I'm rather endowed in that area. Women cower at my sheer size."

Just then Duncan appears with our beers. "Ah shit, that image is burned into my brain for good now. So yeah, thanks for that."

Michael plays much better in the next round, getting a few good bowls in and even one strike, which he's very chuffed with himself for. Duncan also steps up his game, getting almost as many strikes in as me, although in the end I still win. We decide to call it quits and head home.

After handing in our shoes, we start to head to the exit, when a familiar face catches my attention. Sitting on a bench in the corner is a woman who vaguely resembles someone who I may or may not have imagined to get myself off. Although, tonight she looks very different. Her ginger hair falls straight down over her shoulders instead of the signature curls I'd gotten used to, and from where I'm standing it seems like she's lost weight. I could also be wrong, because Amber has always been relatively small. She picks up her hand and checks her watch, which makes her sleeve fall down around her elbow and she frowns. Yup, she's definitely lost weight. What I don't understand is why she's sitting on the bench, alone, checking her watch. This is the first time in a long while that I'm seeing her. After her and I spent a considerable amount of time together due to me helping her out, I figured her and I were getting along quite well. But then it all went to shit. Which is mostly my fault.

"You coming?" Michael looks at me expectantly.

I shake my head. "Nah, I'm going to hang around here for a while, just saw someone I know."

"Alright man. See you at the club." Duncan gives me a firm shake.

"See ya." Michael gives me a shake as well.

"See you guys around." I nod before I turn and head over to where Amber is sitting.

There's no way I'm letting her avoid me anymore. For the sake of my sanity, I need to get her to talk to me and find out what's going on in that head of hers.