Chapter 8: Lost On Roads
Ember Corbin
"It will be wiser if you put the gun down. Don't you think so, Savannah?" Lance uttered coldly.
A shiver ran down my spine hearing his tone. It was the same tone he used when he was playing with the knife over my hand eight days ago. But I shouldn't be scared because this time it wasn't me at gunpoint. Well, technically I was under gunpoint, but I wasn't the one being threatened by Lance.
How did Lance know her name, though? Wait, what was he doing here in the first place when I clearly remember Faith telling me he hated crowds?
When the woman, whom Lance called 'Savannah' didn't lower her gun, I retorted, "See? She isn't wise. If she was, she wouldn't even argue with me in the first place. I mean, do I look like a person who will argue?"
"Shut up," Lance cut me off harshly, and I sealed my mouth. Glaring at Savannah, he repeated for the final time, "Down or trust me, your family won't have a body for you to place in the coffin."
Gulping hard, Savannah put her gun down. Sparing one last deadly glare at me, she turned to Lance, who lowered his gun down as well. "It's not my fault, Boss. This bitch was the one who poured the drink over me."
"Accidentally," I added politely.
"Really?" Savannah let out a humorless chuckle. "How can you pour the drink over me accidentally?" she asked in a challenging tone.
Getting annoyed by her voice, I walked toward the bar. Taking another glass filled with whiskey, I stormed to Lance and Savannah. I stood in between them and turned to Lance. He seemed clueless as to what I was about to do.
Giving him a firm smile, I turned harshly towards Savannah, making the whiskey fall all over her dress once again, recreating the scene from earlier.
"What the fuck?" Savannah screeched.
Putting up an innocent look on my face, I said, "This is how I poured the drink over you accidentally." I restrained myself from laughing.
Savannah looked at Lance, hoping for him to say something. When he didn't say anything, she stormed off the room.
"Everyone, enjoy since that loud-speaker woman is gone," I chirped, and the song started playing again. For a moment, I wanted to talk to Lance and thank him, but remembering the deal, I pretended that he didn't exist and started to dance to the song.
All of a sudden, someone grabbed my hand and hauled me out of the basement. As I was walking on the staircase, I asked Lance, "What are you doing? I thought we were supposed to avoid each other."
Lance paid no heed to me and continued dragging me.
"Have you gone crazy? I thought I was the only one who stayed in the asylum, Lance. Were you in the room next to mine? But there was a separate section for males unless you were a female and changed your gender after escaping from the asylum and turned into a handsome maâ" I stopped talking when my back collided with the hard pillar of the second floor.
Lance caged me between his arms, his face dangerously close to mine. "What are you made of, Ember?" he asked as if it was truly a wonder to him.
"I thought we had a deal," I reminded him, but he just narrowed his eyes in my direction. "What? Don't tell me you had your fingers crossed when we agreed to the deal." I gasped and feigned a disappointed sigh later. "I didn't expect you to be so childish, Lance."
"Ember," Lance sucked in a deep breath and said, "Don't mess with dangerous people. You came here to enjoy, so just do that and leave the casino. What was the need of arguing with Savannah?"
"I didn't pour my drink on purpose in the first place. It was totally accidental. She should've politely accepted my apology instead of acting rudely with me," I protested.
"But you poured the drink on purpose the second time," he pointed out.
"Well, she asked how it was an accident, so I showed her..." I stopped midway when I saw Lance giving me a stern look. I rolled my eyes. "Fine, I did it the second time on purpose because if I didn't silence her, she wouldn't have stopped accusing me. Not to mention, she had an annoying voice, loud like a saxophone."
He twitched his lips as if he was preventing himself from smiling. He cleared his throat and removed his arms, stepping back. Putting his hands in his pocket, he stated, "Savannah is a dangerous woman. She can do anything."
I sighed and walked to the comfortable couch near the table. The entire floor was empty; it was so spacious and posh. I sat on the couch and said proudly, "My mom said to never accept defeat in a fight when I know I am right. So why should I worry about her being dangerous? What else can I lose besides my life?"
"She is an assassin. A dangerous one at that," Lance informed me and took a seat on another couch. He poured two glasses of wine and handed me one, which I took gladly.
"She works in your gang, doesn't she?" I asked him curiously, and he instantly choked on his drink.
"Was it a wild guess?"
"Do you consider me dumb, Mr. Storm?" I leaned back against the couch.
He arched an eyebrow. "Mr. Storm?"
"We are two strangers who met just today, aren't we?" I told him and took a sip of my drink. I was keeping my promise. I pretended he didn't exist, but now we were talking again. So it should be like we were two strangers drinking together.
Lance shook his head in disappointment. "You are impossible, Ember."
We continued drinking, and pin-drop silence fell in the environment. I hated it so I started speaking, "By the way, despite our deal of staying away from each other, you became my rescuer once again. I knew I wasn't wrong when I labeled you as my mafia rescuer."
"Just stop thinking whatever you are trying to think," Lance spoke up.
I grinned. "You are good at heart. Pretend to be cold as much as you can."
"If you talk too much about this now, I am going to make you pay for the wine we are drinking," he simply added.
My eyes grew as wide as saucers. I shook my head and decided to change the topic, "I met Faith today while my best friend was changing her clothes."
"Your best friend works here?" he asked, and I hummed in response. He looked somewhere, and when I followed his gaze, I found him looking at Faith working in the bar on the ground floor. She was engrossed in her work. "She is a very nice girl and deserves all the happiness in the world," he murmured, his voice holding no malice or sternness in it.
I looked at Faith as well. "Yeah, the poor girl lost a lot at such a young age, and I know how it feels like. I really pray she finds someone who will be with her to support her so that she won't end up turning like me." I lowered my gaze, now looking down at my reflection in the drink. I sucked in a deep breath, stopping the tears which were threatening to come out of my eyes.
I should stop thinking of whatever happened to me in the past. I didn't even know why I still thought so much of it when I had left it so far behind in the past.
"Turning up like you?" Lance asked in disbelief. "Faith is the exact opposite of you, Lady. She prefers to talk only when someone starts a conversation, unlike you who speaks whatever she has in her mind."
"It is good to speak whatever is going on than suppressing it, Lance," I said, looking straight into his eyes. "By staying quiet, Faith is hurting herself, but she won't let you find out about it. She thinks of you as her brother, and the last thing she will want is to get her brother worried."
"Did you get to open up when you needed someone?" he questioned me, shifting his full attention to me now, his eyes observing me in a way that made me feel anxious.
I averted my gaze and chuckled. "That time is over now. Why should we talk about the past?" I glanced down at my wristwatch to find it was almost midnight. "Crap, it's late. I should call Candy and return home."
I took out my phone, and when I unlocked it, I found a text from Candy saying she would be spending the night with the guy she was making out with earlier and told me to return home on my own.
"Just fucking great!"
I didn't realize I said that aloud until Lance asked, "Uh... Is something wrong?"
Immediately, I threw daggers at him with my eyes. "Why did you send your guard to distract Candy when you knew he was handsome?"
He furrowed his brows in confusion. "I thought in that way she would stay distracted?"
I got up, stomping my foot in anger. "Now, I have to go home alone in a cab this late. This is all your fault, so I want a lift," I told him, pointing my index finger at him.
He narrowed his eyes. "If you wanted me to drop you, you could just ask for it instead of putting the entire blame on me." He kept his glass on the table and got up as well. "Fine, I will give you a lift."
Wait, what?
I wasn't actually expecting him to agree, especially considering he was here to play tonight. For him, it mustn't even be that late. But oh, well, since he already agreed, why should I shoot myself in the foot with the logistics?
"But if you drop me in the middle of the road this time, I will burn your car," I informed him and started walking along with him.
"Do you have a lighter?" he inquired.
"No, but I am damn sure you have one. I will use your lighter to burn your car."
"Let me put a period on your wild imagination," Lance spoke up. "I don't carry a lighter with me."
"Why not?" I asked, and as we reached his car, I got inside, noting that his driver was absent tonight. When Lance got inside the car and started driving, I continued, "I thought people who smoked always had a lighter in their pockets."
"I don't smoke." As soon as these words left his mouth, I raised my brows in amusement.
"I thought every bad boy smoked, and since you wanted me to think of you as a bad boy, I thought you smoked as well," I explained my theories to him. It was unbelievable that he didn't smoke. It proved that he was indeed a good soul who understood how harmful it was to one's body. "Yet he says he isn't good," I mumbled, which he failed to hear.
"Where is your house?" his sudden voice brought me out of the trance.
I looked in front and said to him, "Just keep going straight." When I found him giving me a stern look, I further spoke, "What? Just keep driving straight. I will give you the directions."
Shaking his head in disappointment, he continued driving straight.
"You know, I still can't believe you don't smoke. You are a good guy under the facade of a bad guy," I chirped. "I wonder, do you even kill people or just let them go with a warning?"
He stayed silent, his eyes glued on the street as he started driving faster than before.
"Are you driving faster because you want to get rid of me?" I asked him, only to get no response. "Anyway, I don't mind talking alone till I reach home. You know, in high school, there was this one time I was late and missed the bus. I was mumbling a few incoherent words while walking to school, and surprisingly, almost all the people on the street were looking at me. It's still a mystery why they were looking at me. Do you have any idea?"
"Which turn should I take now?" Lance asked me, completely ignoring my previous question.
"Go straight," I answered. "By the way, Lance, what is your favorite color? Mine is black. I know you would expect it to be yellow or pink because I'm so bright. But it's truly black because I really like it as it fits with every other color. And if I had to guess your favorite color on first instinct, I would've guessed it to be white. But the way you portray yourself, I think you would say blue. Just an instinct, no offense."
"Now where?"
"Take a left," I replied without looking at the street. I was checking the time on my phone.
"There is no left, Ember." As soon as he had said that, my eyes fell on the empty streetâwhere there was not a single house. It only had trees on both sides.
If it wasn't me who was giving the directions, I would've thought for sure Lance brought me here to kill me in this deserted place.
"Ember?" he called out, guessing what I was thinking.
I let out a nervous chuckle. "My house was supposed to be here nearby..."
When I looked at him, I found him giving me a deadly glare.
"Do you happen to know where we might beâ" he cut me off sharply.
"No."
So I guess it was official. We were lost on the roads.