Playing for keeps

10. 'F' for failure

Surprise and confusion are the only words suitable for this situation. 

The man that's standing by the pool begins to come down the steps, a cigarette between his lips.

Do all of them have a habit of smoking?

I don't know his name, but I recognise him from the group of Vipers. He's older than Kaleb and the others I've met, maybe late thirties, early forties. His black hair is short and cropped, neatly combed, and it's obvious he's a man who takes pride in his appearance.

He's in a dark grey three piece suit that doesn't have a crease in sight, and his shoes are black and shiny, the watch on his wrist looking like it costs more than Damien's Porsche.

He's the same height as Damien, but he has more intimidation about him, maybe it's because he's more mysterious, or his muscles fill him out more. Or maybe it's because his eyes carry a more lethal, dangerous effect.

Kaleb holds this dangerous vibe, one that makes you want to run the other way. But this man makes you want to move to a whole different planet.

Just by the look of him, I can tell he's bad news. Does Damien know he's out here? Am I about to die?

"I don't think we've met properly," he says, taking his cigarette out from between his mouth. He walks closer until he's a few feet away from me. "I'm Killian." He sticks his hand out with confidence that I'll shake it. With the thought that declining a hand shake from him isn't even a thought, I reach out.

His name is ironic that it has 'kill' in it, because he looks like the type of man to be a murderer. I want to laugh, but I don't even risk letting my humour get the best of me in this situation.

"Easton," I say, both wary and confused as I shake his hand.

His hand is rough, but also has a smooth feel to it. Up close, his eyes are a brighter green than what they seem like from a distance.

He retracts his hand and shoves it into his pocket, regarding me with a questioning look. "You seemed angry when you came out here."

He was out here? How didn't I see him?

Well, in my defence I was so angry to the point that I had tunnel vision. I probably wouldn't have even noticed if a gorilla was swimming in the pool. I tend to go into my own world when I'm angry.

"You saw that?" I internally cringe.

A small smile slithers onto his lips as he takes another drag of his cigarette. He doesn't answer.

It's quiet for a few moments before he speaks again. "Damien mentioned you have a temper, but you don't regularly show it. So, something must have pissed you off."

My eyes snap from the soccer ball laying on the grass to his eyes. I frown as I say, "Damien talked about me?"

My brothers never make me a topic for conversation with their clients, they wouldn't. They make it a priority to make sure no clients or enemies, not a single soul in their world, know that they have a sister. They explained that it could potentially make me a target to people they've crossed.

But then again, Damien said that the Vipers weren't exactly clients, but more like business partners.

"I don't have a temper," I scoff, crossing my arms.

Everyone gets pissed off every once in a while. Doesn't mean I have a temper.

"He said you once threw a spoon at Zachary for stealing a strawberry off your plate," he says pointedly, taking another drag.

"Who wouldn't?" I question with a deep frown, making a mental note to tell Damien to stop telling stories about me that make me look like an angry maniac.