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Chapter 7 by vertigo vertigo

Should I go for it? Or should I play it safe...?

You tell him where to go but that only makes things worse.

"Fuck off, Nick!" was once again my default response. Anyone who knew me well could tell the **** had well and truly taken effect by this point. Normally I could handle Nick with more wit and the natural authority of a married woman telling a world class creep to get lost. Now I seemed to be stuck in a weird gambling loop. Sure enough, came what sober me would have seen a mile away.

"Let's make it five grand then. If I win, however, you have to give me a lap dance and I'll even sweeten the deal by giving you the first $1000 just for accepting the bet, no strings attached." The shit eating smile plaster all over his face was sending up warning bells that even my drunk ass couldn't ignore. There was no doubt in my mind now that this was a trap. What stopped me slapping out his teeth there and then was that last bit. One thousand dollars guaranteed, win or lose. For the first time, I felt genuine confliction. My mind raced in a civil war over the offer. Up till now, the bets had been silly playground stuff that I could just walk away from, but this... This was money that could tide us over until Henry got back on his feet. A teachers pay was good but not good enough to turn down a grand, tax-free with the chance of an extra four thousand on top if I won.

"Deal!" The word slipped past my lips before I could stop myself. Greed and the ethanol-fueled determination to knock Nick down a peg was too strong. The heightened stakes seemed to spur me on instead of deterring me, even though this new agreement was so much worse than simply taking my bra off and a quick flash of my tits. Henry was the only man that had even seen me topless, let alone naked. This was a bad decision but I couldn't see it, even as I threw that first dart and scored a one, right next to the dividing line before the twelve.

The game was downhill from there as my darts landed randomly all over the board as if I had never played a darts game in my life. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were trying to lose on purpose," said Nick with an evil laugh as he gave my ass a sly swat before landing another triple twenty.

"Keep your opinions and your filthy hands to yourself, you perverted fuckwit." My language always had a way of turning the air blue as the drink flowed. This was by no means the first time my mouth had gotten me in trouble. Nick simply kept on smiling as he watched me barely making double twenty. I was lagging behind and shit face was on his last dart. If he missed or got lower than fifty, I was still in the game with a slim chance.

"Just remember fat ass, tonight, I'm your daddy in all the ways that matter," he said with a wink while licking his lips as his sinister grin widened. I wasn't sure if the sick feeling in my stomach as from the drinks or him. He was so cocky and sure of himself that he took a blind throw.

I watched as time seemed to slow to a crawl as this last dart flew through the air to what could have very well been the winning point.

Does Nick make the winning throw?

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