Rapture Noir: On the Rocks

"Alright, let's make this interesting. The next round is on whoever wins."

Heine's wasn't exactly a pool hall, strictly speaking. But when you're in Pauper's Drop you can't exactly be picky. In truth Heine's was just another dive bar that just so happened to have a functioning pool table. I was leaning up against a wall of various surface memorabilia while Rock paced the table setting up our match and ran over his house rules.

"Sounds good to me, I can think of a worse way to spend a Friday night. Free drinks and pool." I replied, shooting Rock a grin.

"Har har, just watch. I know a thing or two about pool."

"Okay Rock, let's see you put your money where your mouth is. Coin flip?" I asked, taking a quarter out of my pocket.

"Fine by me, tails."
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I never did learn if Rock had meant to miss me, or if he was simply firing a warning shot. Suppose it doesn't matter much either way. What matters is that he had his gun trained on me and I wasn't exactly in the right frame of mind to deal with an armed man out for my blood. Rock clutched his chest with his free hand in an attempt to staunch his bleeding. His breathing was heavy, ragged, and his aim unstable, but a gun's a gun and he only needed to get lucky once.

"DeWitt!" Rock screamed, his voice coarse with desperation.

"Rock, Christ put the gun down. Abby's dead, you killed her you son of a bitch!" I said, trying to reach my gun without him noticing. I hoped I wouldn't need it. But part of me wanted to plug that son of a bitch right between the eyes.

"The whore deserved it." He spat venomously.

I raise my hand to try and take his focus off my gun arm. "This isn't the time for your shit, Rock. You don't understan-"

"I understand plenty, Booker. I see how it always was between us. You were never my friend. This was all just a part of your fucked up game."

"That's not true, Rock. Things have just been complicated. Just put the gun down. It's not too late to work this out." I plead gingerly slipping my gun into my hand. Rock, don't make me do this.

Rock grunts and steadies his aim. "Fuck you, it is too late! You ruined me, Booker. I trusted you!"

"Dammit, Rock. YOU'RE MY BEST FRIEND! PLEASE!"

I stagger backwards, my chest burning. I've been shot. Rock, too, probably. But my vision is blurring and it's hard to see what happened. Fight it, Booker. Stay on your feet. Christ, at least keep your eyes open, Booker. Fight it. Eyes open, Booker.
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Rock bit his lip and playfully slapped the side of the table. "Shit, got me again."

"That's another round you owe me." I said, idly applying chalk to my cue.

Rock laughed nervously and scratched the back of his head. "About the drinks, I can't exactly...well, you know how it is."

I couldn't help but groan a little. "Hell, Rock."

"I know. I just wanted to bullshit a bit, is all."

"I'll tell you what, two free rounds is fine. The next round's on me." I replied, waving the statement away.

I felt Rock's hand on my shoulder as I turned to get our drinks. "Hey Booker."

"Huh?"

"Thanks. I mean, I'm glad you're my friend."