killing the water.
Water dripped from his hair and slid down his chest as he stood in the steam for a long time waiting for his cock to go soft. But it was just as hard as it had been before. When he wrapped a towel around his waist and stalked out of the bathroom, he realised what he needed to do.
Throwing on some clean clothes, he slid his feet into some old shitkickers and left the apartment, determined to find one of two things; a whore or a fight. If he was lucky, it would be both at the same time.
Chapter 6
‘What do you want?’ Indi demanded, still keeping a safe distance away. When the guy didn’t answer, she tried again. ‘How did you know this was where I lived?’
‘Oh Kitten, you didn’t think I’d give up so easily, did you?’ Mr Wright, the prick from the café, was sporting two partial black eyes and a swollen, misshapen nose. Indi couldn’t take credit for how he’d brained himself on the table, but she had helped him on his way and that made her smile.
‘What. Do. You. Want?’ she hissed.
Running a finger across his chin in thought, his top lip curled up into a sneer and he said, ‘I want to teach you a lesson.’
She laughed dangerously. ‘If it’s about how I shouldn’t beat the shit out of people when they touch me, you’re wasting your time. That ship hasn’t just sailed, it’s sunk.’
He pushed himself off the wall. There was a small snick and when he uncrossed his arms there was a small switchblade in his left hand. ‘Now, you’re going to play nice Kitten, or I’ll be sure to cut you up a little to remind you what happens when you don’t do as you’re told.’ The blade flashed in the little streetlight available as he twisted it menacingly from side to side.
‘And if I don’t?’ she asked boldly, raising her chin a fraction. She’d been threatened with knives before so she was strolling through achingly familiar territory.
‘And if you don’t,’ he replied teasingly, ‘it’s nothing a bullet can’t help.’ He opened up his jacket and revealed a holstered gun on his right hip. Oh. That’s why he was so damn confident. He tapped it with the tip of the knife––a ringing metallic sound pealing around them.
Indi swallowed thickly. Gun trumped knife. It was as simple as that. As if the weapon was a signal to her body, her pulse began racing again––her heart hammering against her ribs, pumping much needed adrenalin around her body. It cleared her head, allowing her to think through her options properly.
Indi wasn’t in the habit of running from a fight, but she knew when she was beaten. If the fight was between a gun and knife then the loud, bullet-ridden thing would win every time.
One point for run.
She knew from the café that he was a south paw. If he wanted to draw the gun, he’d have to drop the knife first, unless he just also happened to be ambidextrous … which she was suddenly praying he was not. She was sure she could get her blade out of the holster before he could reach for the gun though. Her reflexes had always been good.
One point for fight.
Factor number three: he had at least fifty pounds on her. If he pinned her, she’d be dead; plain and simple.
Two points for run.
Indi glanced around at the buildings. They were all very well sound-proofed thanks to the flight path they were living under. Nobody would hear the fight between them, which meant that if she had to resort to screaming for help nobody would hear her.
Three points for run.
Madness bubbled in his dark gaze as she met his black eyes again. Rage, greed, lust and revenge were the fuel to the fire that lit him up from the inside. And that was the deciding factor.
Four points to one: she ran.
Taking off in the opposite direction she’d come from; her lighter frame and longer legs carrying her a lot faster than his could. She rounded the corner, seeing that the alleyway to her left was the one that ran behind her building. She knew that it was a dead
Water dripped from his hair and slid down his chest as he stood in the steam for a long time waiting for his cock to go soft. But it was just as hard as it had been before. When he wrapped a towel around his waist and stalked out of the bathroom, he realised what he needed to do.
Throwing on some clean clothes, he slid his feet into some old shitkickers and left the apartment, determined to find one of two things; a whore or a fight. If he was lucky, it would be both at the same time.
Chapter 6
‘What do you want?’ Indi demanded, still keeping a safe distance away. When the guy didn’t answer, she tried again. ‘How did you know this was where I lived?’
‘Oh Kitten, you didn’t think I’d give up so easily, did you?’ Mr Wright, the prick from the café, was sporting two partial black eyes and a swollen, misshapen nose. Indi couldn’t take credit for how he’d brained himself on the table, but she had helped him on his way and that made her smile.
‘What. Do. You. Want?’ she hissed.
Running a finger across his chin in thought, his top lip curled up into a sneer and he said, ‘I want to teach you a lesson.’
She laughed dangerously. ‘If it’s about how I shouldn’t beat the shit out of people when they touch me, you’re wasting your time. That ship hasn’t just sailed, it’s sunk.’
He pushed himself off the wall. There was a small snick and when he uncrossed his arms there was a small switchblade in his left hand. ‘Now, you’re going to play nice Kitten, or I’ll be sure to cut you up a little to remind you what happens when you don’t do as you’re told.’ The blade flashed in the little streetlight available as he twisted it menacingly from side to side.
‘And if I don’t?’ she asked boldly, raising her chin a fraction. She’d been threatened with knives before so she was strolling through achingly familiar territory.
‘And if you don’t,’ he replied teasingly, ‘it’s nothing a bullet can’t help.’ He opened up his jacket and revealed a holstered gun on his right hip. Oh. That’s why he was so damn confident. He tapped it with the tip of the knife––a ringing metallic sound pealing around them.
Indi swallowed thickly. Gun trumped knife. It was as simple as that. As if the weapon was a signal to her body, her pulse began racing again––her heart hammering against her ribs, pumping much needed adrenalin around her body. It cleared her head, allowing her to think through her options properly.
Indi wasn’t in the habit of running from a fight, but she knew when she was beaten. If the fight was between a gun and knife then the loud, bullet-ridden thing would win every time.
One point for run.
She knew from the café that he was a south paw. If he wanted to draw the gun, he’d have to drop the knife first, unless he just also happened to be ambidextrous … which she was suddenly praying he was not. She was sure she could get her blade out of the holster before he could reach for the gun though. Her reflexes had always been good.
One point for fight.
Factor number three: he had at least fifty pounds on her. If he pinned her, she’d be dead; plain and simple.
Two points for run.
Indi glanced around at the buildings. They were all very well sound-proofed thanks to the flight path they were living under. Nobody would hear the fight between them, which meant that if she had to resort to screaming for help nobody would hear her.
Three points for run.
Madness bubbled in his dark gaze as she met his black eyes again. Rage, greed, lust and revenge were the fuel to the fire that lit him up from the inside. And that was the deciding factor.
Four points to one: she ran.
Taking off in the opposite direction she’d come from; her lighter frame and longer legs carrying her a lot faster than his could. She rounded the corner, seeing that the alleyway to her left was the one that ran behind her building. She knew that it was a dead
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