The moment the warmth of the liquor settled in his chest, Brad knew something was wrong. He was too good at this game not to notice. He lowered his eyes in disappointment but didn't let anything show to the onlookers.
His vision shimmered slightly, sound dulled for a second like he was submerged under water, and the laughter around him turned from friendly to off. It all felt too smooth and rehearsed.
He blinked hard.
"You alright, man?" Luis asked, a smile in his voice, while reaching for his arm with a disturbing faux concern.
"Yeah," Brad said slowly, setting the glass down with calm precision. "Just need some air."
Behind the scenes, Erik had been watching – from the bar in the private room and the shadows. He'd been told,
"If I run my finger down the rim of my glass twice, we're done. No questions. Get me out."
And so, when that signal was given moments ago, Erik had already sprung into motion.
