He wore black slacks and a black button-up, but he looked messy, like he’d had a rough night. Likely losing at the tables and drowning that disappointment in a bottle.
“Fuck off,” Frank snapped as the man slow-blinked at him while he drew closer.
“No, I know you! You’re the guy. The guy with the place!”
God.
How was he still walking and talking with how wasted he was?
“I’m busy here,” Frank snarled, barely glancing at the guy as he got even closer.
I turned my focus to the stranger.
I didn’t have a lot of hope.
I mean, he could barely string words together. How could he help me?
But maybe if he could just tick Frank off enough to release me, I could run.
I could—
If I hadn’t been watching the drunk stranger so closely, I would have missed it.
But I saw his one hand disappear up his sleeve and come back with… a needle?
Before I could even wrap my head around its appearance, he had the cap off, grabbed Frank from behind, and jammed it into his neck.
Frank staggered, then fell.
I didn’t even get a chance to see if he was still conscious when he landed.
Because another hand reached for me, grabbing my wrist in a firm, but gentle, grip.
“We gotta run,” he said.
I didn’t know the guy from Adam.
There was no reason to trust him.
He carried needles up his sleeve, for God’s sake.
But one thing I did know was that Frank was definitely going to rape me. And this man stopped that from happening.
So, well, I ran.
And ran.
Until the tall stranger yanked me into an old parking garage.
His hand immediately released me, holding his hands up, palms out.
“You’re okay. I’m not gonna hurt you.”
“You… stabbed him.”
“Well… to be clear, only with a needle.”
It was so… calm, casual.
