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Chapter 22

** REBEL SIMMONS POV **

I glanced around the warehouse, taking in the pallets and crates which held illegal weapons. The Vino warehouse had anything you could think of: AKs, sniper rifles, assault rifles, handguns, grenades, and I even think I spotted a bazooka.

Who needs a damn bazooka?

"Ever handle a gun before?" Isa asked as she lightly nudged my ribs lightly.

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As I walked into the apartment escaping the chilling December air. My father had another strange woman on his lap. Ever since I was 9, this was a weekly occurrence. I'm sure that he kept his affair hidden in the past, but once my mom found him having sex with a prostitute in their room, he hasn't even made the slightest attempt at hiding his infidelity. Every weekend while she was working double shifts at the restaurant, he would always bring a new sleazy woman home.

"That's your kid?" The woman who on my fathers lap said as my father scowled.

"Cherry, don't lie to the little bitch." My dad slurred as he slapped her roughly on the back. The woman, who I presume is Cherry, tried to stand up from his lap.

My father then proceeded to grab her by her hair and pull her down to the floor. Cherry's screams filled our filthy apartment as he punched her in the face.

"Hey kid, come join us." He slurred as he walked to his bedroom, leaving me with a crying Cherry on the floor.

I attempted to help the red headed woman up, and she smacked my arm away roughly. "Don't fucking touch me you brat." She said as my father came back with his revolver in his hand as he stumbled over to us.

"Sit." He said pointing his revolver to the flimsy chair that matched our plastic dining table. He grabbed Cherry by the hair again, and shoved her down onto a chair. He sat next to her, roughly grasping onto her bright red locks. Her makeup was smearing from her tears, and her hair was disheveled.

"Russian roulette, you heard of it you little know it all?" He asked me as he loaded a single bullet in the chamber of the revolver. I gulped, fully aware of the game he was mentioning. Cherry's face paled at his words.

"Answer me bitch!" He yelled, smacking the table with his hand and cracking it in the process.

"Russian Roulette: a player places a single round in a revolver, spins the cylinder, places the muzzle against his or her head, and pulls the trigger." I uttered. Dad's never pulled out his revolver before. I know he keeps it in the top drawer of his dresser, but I've never seen it in person before.

"Let's play, shall we?" He smiled wickedly as he held it to his head. Cherry and I waited in anticipation as his finger wrapped around the trigger.

Please kill him. Please. Please. Please.

His fingers pressed down on the trigger, I held my breath in anxiety as I awaited the revolver to fire. His fingers fully pressed down on the trigger, and a loud click disturbed the deadly silence in the room.

No, no, no, no fuck!

My heart sank as my father smiled a despicable smile at me.

"Your turn you little brat." He said shoving the revolver to me across the table.

"What the hell is this! She's a fucking kid Johnny!" Cherry screamed attempting to get out of his hold on her hair.