This fanfic is a sequel to the fanfic The Way You Taste. Vegas and Pete must enter a secret meeting called 'Chess Room' held between Asian mafia leaders to find out who negotiated Pete's life perhaps over twenty years ago. They need 'keys' to enter...
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Kinn's POV
"The bastard hit me right in the ribs. Go ahead, Porsche. I'll reach you."
"Okay"
Porsche leaves the elevator first.
Before entering room 1004, I pass in front of room 1005. The half-open door catches my attention.
If Pete is somehow tied to something, that situation makes me suspicious about his safety.
I take my gun out of my holster and open the door slowly. It's all dark and silent.
In the living area there is no one.
The bedroom door is also slightly open. I approach calmly. I go inside. I turn on the lights.
"Pete"
I see Pete tied to the headboard by handcuffs. He does not answer. He seems to be unconscious. Before I get to Pete, I walk calmly to the bathroom, gun in hand. There is nobody.
I check the whole room and it's all clear.
"Pete!" I reach the bed. Pete is unconscious. I try to shake him, but it's no use. "Why are you like this...Pete! Wake up! Pete!"
Why Vegas left him handcuffed alone in the first place? Why does Pete allow him to do whatever he wants?
There isn't a day I don't wonder if this is love or pure illness...or still some sort of revenge. And I blame myself for that.
Tankhun does a great job of not letting me forget about that too.
Deep down, doesn't Vegas really do what it does to you to get to me? After all, you've always been my most trusted bodyguard. I can't believe that someone changes that much...even if it's supposed to be out of love.
Besides, does Vegas think I don't realize how much time he spends with Porsche every day until late at night? Do you realize this, Pete? Has Vegas really abandoned his old plans to conquer Porsche for you?
I wouldn't have the position I have if I was not attentive to my surroundings. Can we trust him? Can you, Pete?
Does love hurt, my friend? I caress Pete's face.
"What are you doing??" Someone yells furiously. "Don't touch him, you bastard!" It's Vegas.
He points his gun at me.
"What have YOU done, Vegas? " I feel a huge anger building up inside of me.
"Pete? PETE!" Vegas retracts his outstretched hand and hurries toward the bed.
"You are a selfish madman!"
...an anger that explodes amidst my sense of guilt and distrust.
I try to land a punch to Vegas' face, who quickly deflects.
