Gilder looked across the smoky bar, a thin hand rolled cigarette in his mouth adding to the acrid fog with lazy swirls as he chewed the end around agitatedly.
The focus of his attention was on two women, sat right at the other end of the curved wooden counter, both with full glasses in front of them. The first woman, a short, pretty girl with a hint of the oriental in her young features, was staring, engrossed, at the second woman, child-like fingers entwined in multi-coloured hair.
The second woman, a tall, stunningly beautiful woman that had an air of British aristocracy in her stance and a strange maturity in her face, was holding a large, gold coin on a hooked finger, thumb positioned underneath; ready to flick.
The first woman nodded slowly, and said something that Gilder couldn’t make out over the noise of the television in the corner of the bar, showing a series of advertisements. The first woman glanced up at Gilder, but he barely noticed, his attention now firmly fixed on the coin.

The first woman smiled and flicked the coin into the air with a sharp jerking motion of her arm, the noise as her manicured nails connected with the solid, heavy metal a perfect bell-like resonance that pierced easily through the weighted air.
The cigarette flicked ash onto the polished surface of the bar as Gilder lifted his head to follow the spinning disk into the clearer air near the ceiling, where it flashed briefly in the strip lights before falling back.
Gilder followed its path back down until it fell past the woman’s eyes, where she caught his gaze and kept it.
Her hand reached out and snapped up the coin at the last second, her eyes never leaving Gilders’. She lifted her closed fist and slapped it down onto the back of her hand, sandwiching the hidden coin.
Gilder held her steady gaze and smiled, mouthing the word “Heads.” over the bar to her. In reply, she opened her mouth and her lips formed the word “Tails.”
The first woman was oblivious to this, her eager eyes on the coin and desperate to know the outcome of the toss.
The covering hand was removed, and the younger woman squealed with delight.

“Tails!” she cried, her high pitched voice audible over the constant accented rumble of the sports commentator. “So what do I win?”

Gilder turned and brought his fist down on the bar hard, causing the full glass in front of him to jump and spill.
No one looked around, but the English woman smiled and stuck her tongue out at him as she put an arm around the excited girl and lead her over to one of the exits.
Gilder swore under his breath, but then shrugged and turned around to watch the brutal game being shown on the television, making bets with half of the other men who came up to the bar. After half an hour he was thirty five pounds up, and excused himself from the crowd of spectators, letting himself out of the bar and into a side alley, the cool night air hitting him unexpectedly after the heat of the crowded room.

He took one last drag on the new cigarette he’d rolled and flicked it into a puddle, stuffing his hands in his pockets and making his way up the alley towards the street at the far end.
Half way along, he heard a noise, and turned to see the taller woman of the pair from the bar stand up from a pile she had been hunched over, hidden between some crates and a stack of rotting wooden pallets. A car flashed past and for a split-second he was afforded a vision of a pointed tongue flashing out to smear the trail of blood that ran down her chin, twin fangs pressing into the flesh of her lower lip.
He rolled his eyes and carried on walking, not bothering to see if she caught up with him.
They strolled out onto the main street casually, walking side by side with the easy matched strides of good friends, but no matter how many sideways glances she gave him, he wouldn’t look her way.

“What’s gotten into you?” She asked, a trace of an accent confirming her aristocratic past. “Can’t take loosing tonight?”

He grinned despite himself. “No, I’m just thirsty, that’s all.”

It was her turn to roll her eyes, thin eyebrows rising questioningly as she paced alongside him.

“Do you want to go to another bar then?” she enquired.

Gilder stopped and stared up at the night sky, thinking for a moment.

“I don’t know Rose…Do you?”

She sighed and dug into her pocket, lifting out the same coin that had won her the last meal. Tossing it to Gilder, she put her hands behind her back and leaned against a lamp post.

“Not really, but lets have lady luck decide, hmm?”

Gilder grinned, and solemnly held the coin out at arms length, balanced on a coiled finger and thumb.

“Alright, I win, we hit another bar before dawn; you win, we head back.”

She bowed her head in mock supplication and grinned at the ground as she heard the familiar, rich sound of the coin being flicked into the air.

“Call it.”, he said as it came back down.

“Tails.” Rose replied without even thinking, she hadn’t called anything else since the day she met Gilder, and that was a long, long time ago. They were both set in their ways; Gilder had never called anything but heads. A classic case of opposites attract, Rose often mused to herself.

The coin was caught and slapped between his hands in an instant, and he rested it there for a few seconds, his breathing increasing as the excitement rose in both of them. He caught her gaze and then lifted his hand slowly.

She dropped her eyes first, and he could tell from the glee on her face that he had lost, even before glancing down. He swore and snatched the coin up, stuffing his other hand in his pocket moodily as he walked away. Rose let out an exasperated breath and rushed to catch up with him.

As they walked he idly flipped the coin, again and again, muttering the outcome between sentences, almost unconsciously.

“Look, this is all very -tails- well, but you’ve had, what, four -tails- meals tonight, and I’ve -tails- had none since yesternight. That just seems -tails- a little unfair to me, I mean, luck is -tails- one thing, but this -tails- is… - tails- …something… -tails-…”

They had both stopped, and were staring at the coin in his hand, confused. He ran through the last few tosses, and beyond.

“How many-” He began, but Rose interrupted him, her eyes never leaving the coin.

“Another.” She said.

He tossed the coin obligingly.

“Tails.” He said as the coin was revealed.

“Another.”

“Tails.”

“Another.”

“Tails.”

“Another.”

“Tails. How-”

“Another!”

“Tails. Why-”

“Another!”

“Tails.”

Rose and Gilder stared at the coin, unbelieving, and Rose opened her mouth to speak.
She was interrupted by a heavy piece of metal smashing into her lower neck, and the last thing she saw before the rushing darkness engulfed her vision was the gold coin falling from her friends’ fingers and rolling onto the pavement.
Neither of them had noticed the two figures that had been following them, too involved in the coin to see their surroundings.

***

Gilder surfaced from his unconscious state to find himself bound in an awkward position. Behind him, he could feel a rough wooden pole, around which his hands and ankles had been tied with a strong wire. He couldn’t break it, and the knots felt professionally done. Swinging his head to the side, he saw Rose in a similar position, trussed to a thick beam. Her head was still drooping, and it was only as his eyes swam back into focus that he realised she was naked. Looking down at himself, he saw that he was in the same state, and he bit his lip as he realised what that meant.

Sure enough, as he forced his reluctant eyes to focus once more, he made out a faint square of light around the edges of some heavy material in front of him; a glance told him that a similar square was positioned in the wall in front of the still unconscious Rose

“Shit.” He said to himself.

“Indeed.” Answered a voice from behind him, and a man in a smart, pinstripe suit walked around and into his limited field of vision, settling himself down on a chair between the two curtained windows. Another man, in a loose t-shirt and cargos, stood to one side of him, arms crossed over his chest. “And you’re in it up to your neck, I’m afraid to say.”

Gilder stared hard at the man, thoughts clicking into place in his mind.

“This is about money, isn’t it.” He said slowly.

“Indeed.” Came the reply. “You lost a substantial sum of it to a…client…of mine. A sum which you never paid.”

Gilder opened his mouth to speak, but was cut short by the suited man.

“Don’t even bother; you’ll just waste your breath. Not that you care much about that now, do you? My client now no longer wishes for the money, which we both know you do not posses anyway. Instead, he wishes for you to make one, final, bet.”

Gilders’ eyes widened as a large, gold coin was removed from a pocket of the suit and held between a finger and thumb. His eyes didn’t leave it as he spoke.

“Call it right and we walk?” he asked, but there was little hope in his voice.

“No. one of you lives, one of you dies. You call it correctly, and I pull down that curtain.” He pointed to the heavy material shading Roses’ window. “You call it wrong, and I pull down this one.” The suit rustled as he stood. “Or would you prefer I wake her up and she can call it?”

Gilder shook his head sluggishly.

“No, I suppose not, we both know what she would call anyway, which judging by your performance last night would mean she is in a spot of bother, hmm? Still, good news for you.”

The coin was readied on his hand, poised and waiting like a coiled snake anticipating its next strike.

“Call it, Mr. Gilder.” Said the man in the suit.

Gilder leant his head back against the rough wood and screwed his eyes tightly shut.

“Tails.” He said slowly between clenched teeth, the sheer effort of forcing the word past his lips taking its toll.

The suit sneered.

“How romantic.” He said as he jerked his arm up, flipping the coin.

The rich resonance of the heavy disk filled the room, and for a second, that was all Gilder could hear. Then other noises crept in. The snap of broken wire, the rush of air as something moved incredibly fast. A bubbling gasp.

He opened his eyes and saw the coin falling, until a hand shot out and caught it. A hand with fresh red scars around the wrist. The suit was being stained a deep red from a puddle of blood that was slowly spreading around where it lay on the floor, propped up on the other man.

Rose slapped the coin onto the back of her hand out of habit, and caught Gilders eye as she revealed it. She grunted in surprise.

“Well that was lucky.” She said, flashing a smile at Gilder as she walked towards him, flicking the coin over her shoulder.

“What was?” Gilder asked as she untied him.

“It was heads.”