Kingsman: The Devil's Gamble

Chapter Four

After the Thanksgiving festivities died down, Whiskey and I headed back out to the truck to go home. At least that's what I thought. I thought that we were going back to the base so we can get back to work on hunting Balor down and putting this shit we've been through to rest...I guess I was wrong.

"All fastened in, sugar?" Whiskey asked, keeping one hand on the steering wheel and the other on the gear shift.

"Sure am," I said. "I can't wait to get back to work."

He shrugged, his face wincing as if what I just said was wrong. "Well...we ain't exactly goin' back to that just yet, sugar. We're on the run, remember? So take a good look in the glove box."

Like he said, I decided to take a look inside the glove box. After digging around different registration and auto insurance papers, I managed to find two tickets. Tickets to some sort of event. I resorted to taking a closer look at it, and what I saw shook me to my core in the best way possible.

"What is this?" I asked.

"They're tickets to Sunday's game," Whiskey said.

"But who's playing?" I asked, adding on.

He smirked. "The Browns and Titans...I know how much you're a Titans fan, so I talked to your uncle Derrick and got us discounted tickets to see the Titans in Cleveland."

"You didn't have to do that," I said.

"Of course I had to," he answered. "It's my job to spoil my feisty little princess twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. This was the least I could do."

I was shocked. I didn't think Whiskey would have the guts to ask my uncle for such a thing. Then again, he is the type of guy to go out of his way to make his girlfriend happy. He's that determined to.

"I—I just—I just don't know what to say," I finally said, "but—thank you. Thank you so much."

He smiled, as he saw my face light up with the brightest joy he's ever seen before. "You ever been to a Titans away game?"

I shook my head. "Not lately. Not since I was in at least upper elementary or middle school."

"Well, it's the perfect opportunity for the both of us," he remarked as he pulled out of the driveway. "Take a look at those tickets again, but this time, look closer. I think you'll like the strings that your uncle managed to pull."

I gave the tickets a closer look, and I couldn't believe my eyes. They were VIP tickets, with on-field access, as well as guaranteed access to a special "club" where we could get free food and drinks during the game. And somehow, my uncle managed to book us both a private suite so we could get the full gameday experience.

God, I love how much pull my uncle has in the NFL.

"You serious about this, Whiskey?" I asked. "You better be damn serious."

"I am damn serious," he confirmed. "We have ourselves a private suite to watch the game, on-the-field pregame access, and all the free food and drinks we want."

One of my eyebrows arched upward as a logical thought entered my mind. "Even the good stuff?"

 He chuckled, realizing that I was referring to alcoholic beverages. "Yes, sugar. Even the good stuff."

"Yay!" I exclaimed as I threw my arms up into the air, feeling the breeze of the wind on my face and through my hair. "I'm in desperate need of that stuff."

"You are? Then, why didn't you say anythin' back at the house? I woulda ran up to town and got ya somethin'," he said.

I sighed briefly. "Because I try not to drink in front of my parents...because they don't want me to be a bad influence to my younger siblings by drinking excessively."