Kingsman: The Whiskey Rebellion

Chapter Six

"I know, sugar, but we don't know where he could be now. We don't know his precise location. One wrong arrest of one his men, and he's on the run again. We can't afford to make the mistake of lettin' him run, sugar."

"But if we go after him now, then we can let him know that we ain't gonna handle this shit," I answered back, this time having my voice in a shouting voice.

At this point, Whiskey and I were about two feet away from each other. He was staring at me with hungry yet raging eyes. It was like fire was lit in the back of his eyeballs, and all I could see was anger and hate. Meanwhile, my blood boiled as I continued to stand in front of Whiskey. Neither of us were budging from our spots.

"If we wait for Balor to do something that makes him even more vulnerable, then we might have more of a chance. We don't have to worry about our lives as much, and we might have a good enough chance to catch Balor and not have him run again," Whiskey said in a relatively calm voice.

"But if we don't ride his ass now, then a lot more people could die!"

"It's a huge risk, sugar, and I'm not going to live with the guilt of your death. Just like I did with my high school sweetheart!" Whiskey shouted.

"You're telling me this? I've had to live with the guilt of my twin brother's death for a little over a year now. At this point, Whiskey, I'd much rather die a heroic death and avenge my brother's death than to wait around here and do nothing!"

"So you're sayin' you're willin' to drop everything we've sacrificed and die?" Whiskey asked, still keeping his voice in a shouting tone.

"If it comes down to it, then yeah."

That's when Whiskey erupted. His face was now a very clear beet red, and he was the angriest I've ever seen him. Even our time back in the snowy Ural Mountains wasn't as rage-fueled as this.

"There is no way in hell that I'm not lettin' you die, sugar! Uh-uh. No way. That would be stupid of you to go out there and get yourself killed."

"Oh, so now, you're calling me stupid for wanting to stop innocent people from dying at a fast rate," I shouted.

"That's not what I'm sayin'."

"Well, it sure sounds like it! It's sounding like you're holding me back. It's like you're stopping me from protecting you and the rest of the world," I started, still shouting. "It's like you never loved me. You're holding me back and not letting me save the world. It's like you're losing feelings for me."

My life flashed before my eyes as Whiskey sprang into action, getting deep into my personal bubble. He used his hand and grasped it onto my throat tightly, but it wasn't tight enough to choke the life out of me. My stomach dropped almost instantly when Whiskey did this.

Was he going to choke me to death?

Was he going to kill me just for disagreeing with him?

Our faces were centimeters away from one another. So much so that I could once again feel his hot, fuming breath beating down on the front of my face. As he and I locked eyes, I could see directly into his soul. It was fuming, angry...and I could tell he was contemplating his actions. He was regretting them, but on the outside, he was infuriated with me. Deep down, I was scared to death because Whiskey had never done this before. It's like he internally flipped a switch and turned into an angry individual. On the outside, however, I kept a strong, angry facade while using my eyes to showcase my feelings of burning desire and aggravation.

"Don't say that," he angrily started, still keeping a firm grasp on my throat. "You know that I love ya more than anything. So don't use that spewin' mouth of yours to say something like that when you know it isn't true."