A Dark Romance

The music continued, but the atmosphere turned icy.

Francis' expression was dark as he looked at Bernard, then at me standing by his side.

He forced a laugh after a tense moment.

"Alright, I'll give you a shot. Win, and you can take her with you."

His gaze lingered on me. I knew he was waiting for my reaction, eager to see me crumble, to see me plead.

However, he was bound to be disappointed.

I set down my glass of water and approached the card table. "What do I need to do, sir?"

His expression grew even darker. "Are you in for this bet?"

"I'll leave it to your discretion," I answered.

That response seemed to infuriate him. I could see his grip on his wine glass tighten, his knuckles turning white.

"Fine, let's bet."

The cards were dealt, and the game was on. I did not get the rules of the game, but the vibe? That I could read like an open book.

Everyone was as still as statues, barely breathing.

Francis' grin was chilling, while Bernard's face turned to stone.

The final card hit the table. Bernard had it.

Francis gave a round of applause.

"Awesome," he said, standing up. He strolled over to me, his hand heavy on my shoulder, his grip tight enough to grind bone. "Time to hang out with Mr. Collins. Have fun tonight."

Bernard slung his arm around me. "We're getting out of here."

I walked out with him, not daring to glance back.

I could feel Francis' eyes drilling into me, like lasers trying to zap through my spine.

Once we were in the car, Bernard broke the silence. "He's playing games. He wants you to grovel."

"Yeah, I get it," I muttered.

"So, where to?" the driver asked.

Bernard shot me a look. I rattled off the address from the scrap of paper.

We had not made it far when a blast of headlights flooded our view. Francis' ride was on us in a flash, screeching to a halt right in front.

He stormed out, his face a thundercloud.

"Mr. Collins!" he roared. "Where do you think you're taking her?"

Bernard stepped up, shielding me. "I won fair and square; she's mine."

"She belongs to me." Francis glared at me. "Natalie, come here."

I stayed put.

That was when the night exploded with the sound of a gunshot.

A bullet sliced through the dark, gunning for Francis.

"Hit the deck!" I shoved him down hard.

The bullet ripped through me instead, and I collapsed on him. His eyes went wide, real terror flickering there for the first time.

"Natalie…"

Gunfire answered back. Bernard's crew was not having it.

The world started to spin, pain crashing over me like a wave.

Francis' voice was calling my name, fading into the distance.

Then, everything went black.

...

When I came to, I was in a hospital bed, every inch of me screaming in pain. Breathing was like being stabbed over and over. However, even worse than the bullet wound was the withdrawal: the drugs had their claws in me, and they were not letting go without a fight. My body shook uncontrollably, my hospital gown was drenched in cold sweat, and my lips were raw from biting them too hard.

Voices drifted in from outside the room: Francis and Nora.

"She'll pull through." Francis' voice was cool, laced with a sneer. "She loves me. She can't live without me."

"However, sir, she seems to be in a lot of pain." Nora's voice was barely a whisper.

"Pain?" Francis' laugh was sharp and icy. "The antidote's got its own poison. I'm switching her to something else to keep her alive longer. What's a little pain compared to death?"

Their footsteps trailed off.

I lay there, my gaze fixed on the ceiling as the pain grew and my sanity started to crumble.

I wanted to scream, to beg him for the drugs, to go back to that stupid, numb peace I once knew.

However, I could not.

The door swung open. Francis walked in, the small silver bottle glinting in his hand.

He looked worn out: dark circles under his eyes and a rough stubble on his chin. He sat down beside me, watching as I writhed in agony.

"Pretty bad, huh?" he asked.

"Medicine…" That was all I could manage to gasp out.

"Tell me you need me," he whispered, brushing my damp hair from my forehead. "Not the drugs. Me. Say it, and it's yours."