Re: A Lost Bet (Vince Baduin)
Vince, snorting, then laughing, dropped the rifle. He was tempted to walk in on them with the weapon pointed their way, scare the shit right outta them, but he'd probably be rewarded with a shot in the gut for it. These two hadn't survived so long without being canny or at least paranoid as fuck.
Still, there really wasn't time for this. They'd be pissed that they'd missed some kind of last warning bell, for sure.
Walking to the back of the room, he looked for a door to a bedroom. "Lou, Tina," called he, "it's Vince! Get th'fuck outta the sack. Jelton's a creep-town; you wanna save your asses, it's get outta here or hole up, speaking of which..." he had in mind some negotiating. No better time to do it than when the other guy's got his metaphorical (or literal) pants around his ankles...