Darryl, moved easily, naturally to the music. He was a skilled dancer, agile and very confident. Every step he took, made me stumble, tripping over feet. I even mashed it a few times.

"Why didn't you tell me you can't dance?" Chuckling, his mood back to normal.

I shurgged. "The topic never came up. Besides, I just wanted you to get away from him. He could have seriously harmed you."

"If you say so." Twirling me around suddenly, without warning and I nearly fall flat on my ass. His parents, Vincent. Watched us from a distance. I was embarrassing him, but he doesn't seem to mind. The butt of his gun grazed my stomach ever so often and it scares me.

"I assume, you want to ask me if I had ever killed anyone before?" He says simply.

I hesitate before I could answer. "I...I..well..yes. Have you?"

Silence.

A shiver moves through my back and I stop moving, gaping at him. As his unspoken words set in. Confused.

"When? How many?" I asked with a trace of distaste.

"It doesn't concern you." Dipping me so low that my feet came out from beneath me and I landed flat on my back. I could hear laughter.

"Are you enjoying your fucking self, at my expense?" I asked as he pulled me upright.




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