The creep had a woman pressed against a pillar, spewing his whiskey breath all over her. His eyes flicked down to her chest, not shy about what he was after.
No way she’s older than 19.And in this city, she might’ve been even younger. The kids around here loved to party. Too much money and too much time.
From the bar, I watched his hands inch closer and closer to her waist, ready to sink his claws in.
My teeth could have shattered from the force of clenching them together.
Standing from my stool, I crossed the bar, keeping my head low as I approached. I didn’t want it to look like I was headed straight for them.
There was little I could do here — the bar was crawling with guys who would have his back.
So instead, I squeezed past him and used my broad shoulders to push him away from her. The force tossed him into the crowd, giving the girl just enough time to slip out.
When he threw an angry look my way, I raised my hands in surrender, mouthed an apology, and kept walking.
Over my shoulder, I watched him search the bar for his escaped prey. But the cage was empty.
Stupid fucker.Those were the worst kinds — the ones who were too stupid to take the hint. Or even worse, the ones who got off on playing with their catch.
He was about to learn exactly what that felt like.
I found a dark corner to wait in until the asshole decided to leave. He didn’t last long after she got away, bored without someone to terrorize. Too agitated to notice me trailing him as he tripped toward the exit.
Shitfaced, he stumbled out onto the quiet street. All the commuters besides me had gone home. It was dead out here, except for a few straggling bargoers.
The loud music faded as he made his way down the block, with me as his unknowing chaperone. He hadn’t even looked over his shoulder once.
My job just got easier.
It was the most disturbing part of this whole thing, every man walked out of that bar like they had no fear. Not of retribution, not of consequences, not of random acts of violence.
They lived in a world free of it, except of course that which they committed unto others.
My heart pounded as I got closer to him, just as he was turning down a dark, quiet street. Most of the streetlights were out, only one or two of them still casting light onto the sidewalk.
It wasn’t until then that my mark noticed the heavy, pounding footsteps behind him.
Whipping his head around, he snarled, though his eyes were still heavy from his John Collins — unable to take hard liquor without sugar. “Not this fucking dyke again. What do you want, huh? Came to see if I could change your mind?”
Sucking in a big breath, he turned his body to face me and puffed out his chest. “You fucking dykes can’t ever mind your business.”
I kept my pace, not slowing down as I got closer to him. He was too drunk to stop me.
As soon as he was within reach, my right fist cratered his face sending him stumbling back.
He cried out, grabbing his nose as he checked for blood. “What the fuck!”
Before he could move, I bunched his cheap shirt in my fists and kneed him in the crotch. As he doubled over, clutching his balls, I loosed another knee into his face.
It was enough to send him straight into the pavement and onto his back.
I almost wished he would put up a fight, give me a challenge for once.
But as I dragged him into a nearby alley, he didn’t bother.
Screams pierced the air as I pressed my heel into his nuts. It was a beautiful sound, but one that would get me caught. And I wasn’t done playing with my prey. Savoring the last of his whelps, I sank to my knees, smashing my fists into his face again and again.
The blood running from his face was all I could see.
