Real life does not play by movie rules, not even if vampires are involved. The movies create impossible scenarios and deliberately make people speak in vague sentences just to create dramatic tension. While some drama does exist in real life and people just don't listen, a few intelligent questions can get to the root of a problem pretty damn quickly. So instead of saying completely useless things like "this isn't what it looks like", or "wait, I can explain", to defuse a situation, real people say things like:

"So why were you spying on us for Harry?" I asked.

"Threats, then money, then more threats," Frankie grunted.

"So he's paying you to spy on us?"

"Well, first Mister Bryce offered to rip my throat out if I didn't do it. That's the threat part. The paying me part was just to make me feel like I have a choice."

"Carrot and the stick," Benjamin nodded. "Sounds reasonable."

"Why would Harry be so interested in us?" Stanley asked, but that wasn't the question that was banging around my skull, trying to find its way into words.

"No idea. I just report what you guys are up to and who comes to the meetings. I think Bob not dying has a lot to do with it."

Natalie sidled out of the shadows and Stanley almost had a heart attack.

"Hey guys, what did I miss?"

"Goddammit, Nat!" Stanley yelled. "Where did you come from?"

"Ben texted me. I was hanging out with Sammy, discussing the stalker tendencies of our friend Murray and why you guys couldn't just ditch him." She spotted Frankie down on the ground with the bloodstained shirt and slightly seeping wound. "Was there a fight or something?"

"Frankie is ratting us out to Harry," Benjamin said matter-of-factly. Natalie looked horrified and there was that question again, ready to burst forth, but not just yet.

"You rat bastard!" Natalie exclaimed and actually looked ready to put another knife into Frankie's chest.

"For money!" Frankie protested, his slight movement causing him pain.

"For money," Benjamin amended, and Natalie looked relieved at that.

"Oh that's okay then," she said. "How much?"

"How much?" I blurted out, seconds too late after Natalie. I spun off in a small tantrum, literally stomping my feet. "Goddammit! So close!"

Frankie shook his head, but slowly. "You guys are terrible," He said, then said the words that I never knew I dreamed of hearing until I heard them coming from Frankie's bloodstained lips: "He gave me a credit card. Mastercard. Black."

I think my jaw might have hit the ground and from the look on Natalie's face, she was hearing the same music of the ding-ding-ding of a jackpot. Stanley and Benjamin looked suitably impressed, but apparently, they didn't have the same kind of wickedly devious mind that we shared.

"I'm not supposed to abuse it!" Frankie was protesting. He had seen the looks on our faces and he apparently did have a devious mind, so he knew exactly what we were thinking.

"You can tell Harry it was under duress," I said in what I hoped was a convincing way.

"Well he does have a hole in his chest," Natalie agreed. "If that isn't duress, I don't know what is."

"I feel a bar crawl coming on. If Harry's paying to spy on us, it's about to get fucking expensive."

"Fuck yeah!" Natalie said and then saw how we were all looking at her. "What? I swear. I swear all the time."

Benjamin was the most stunned. "When did you get so... so... predatory?"

She turned red and tried to look demure, but the secret was out. "I'm only shy until you get to know me. I like to watch people until I figure them out. Get a few drinks into me and look out!" Natalie looked back at Frankie. "So... who put the hole in Mister Moneybags over here?"

Stanley was more than happy to oblige.

"You shoulda stuck around for the show. Bob kinda went off on Murray and that was a sight to see. Did not see that coming at all, you know? That fucking guy is now history, so I hope you're happy! And then Beatrice showed up and stuck a knife into Frankie."

"Why would she stab Frankie? Didn't she come for Murray?"

I raised a smug eyebrow at Natalie and could tell the other guys were thinking the same thing that I was. "Have you met Beatrice? Wildcard doesn't even begin to describe her."

Natalie nodded thoughtfully.

"Like I said Nats: you shoulda been here," Stanley grabbed Benjamin by the shoulder and grinned. "Right little bro?"

I looked back at Frankie, who was slowly pulling himself to his feet, still in pain from his wound. It was apparently going to take a while to heal properly, definitely not like the movies where he would be fully healed in thirty minutes and his shirt would be magically fixed and laundered.

"All in favor of forgiving Frankie?" I asked, a big grin on my face. Frankie glanced at me and groaned as the other guys and Natalie all raised their hands.

"He is buying us drinks, right?" Benjamin spoke up.

"He's buying us all the drinks!" I clarified.

See what I mean about real conversations? Watch some moron adapt this story into a movie and instantly add in a series of awkward conversations that go nowhere and do nothing else but play to the whole drama of the situation. A bunch of guys hanging out in a parking lot, one of them with a hole in his sternum, isn't dramatic enough. There has to be angst and a hell of a lot of self-loathing, and me possibly climbing some utterly ridiculous parapet of a church or something so I could look out on the city and brood. Oh, and I would definitely be wearing a trenchcoat.

No goddamit: I wasn't wearing a trenchcoat.

******** AUTHOR'S NOTE **********

The book is now AVAILABLE in Hardcover, Paperback and Ebooks. It's going to live here free on Wattpad, but if you love the story and want to support your awesome author (me), grab a copy from one of the lovely retailers below. Who knows: maybe it can become a bestseller with the help of you lovely WattPadders

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