The Assassin (Editing)

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Why is she so worked up?

Minutes later the man returned but with another man. He was young, maybe my age or younger and blond like the woman who spin around to face them. I giggled when she stormed over and grabbed him by the ear and hauled ass to a car near by, her mouth moving a mile a minute. Ah now I understand.... she's a mad momma bear. My mother never cared what I did, whether it be something good or bad.

You'd be amazed by what some of these people are willing to show in public. The people leaving are wearing the most revealing clothing I've ever seen and I'm glad I sat far away because I was openly staring at some of them.

Finally my waiting paid off and I spotted Charles leave the club wearing leather pants and a black vest to match. My plan is to pretend to be drunk and see where that goes. This is the easiest way to go considering Charles personality and physique. If he doesn't do anything then I'll drag him into an alley, it would be easy since this place is empty except for some vacant buildings and then the club. So I walk across the street and pretend to stumble into the wall of a building before sliding into an alley just as he is walking in my direction, my hood down. Well he saw me that much is certain.

I pressed my back to the wall and slid down until my butt hit the floor. Hanging my head down and letting my arms go limp at my sides, I payed attention to his footsteps slowly getting closer. "Hey you ok?" He asks uneasily while standing a few feet away. Huh I guess even Charles can be sympathetic.

I rolled my head back and gazed at him. "I'm f-ine." I told him, letting a fake hiccup surface. He looked back blankly before it finally clicked and a smirk took over his face.

I'm drunk, or at least that's what he's supposed to think.

"Can you h-elp me to the store? I want candy." I ask and hold out my arms like a child. My sweater was oversized and made me look small, I was wearing some nice fitting jeans though that compliment my legs. Charles seems weary of me from the fight at the bus stop so I whined and dropped my arms, letting my body lean to the side a little. "Please I just want somet-hing sweet to suck on." I said with another hiccup, goading him to thing dirty. It worked.

That being said, his face turned devilish and I continued looking lost. "Alright I'll help you get something to suck on shorty." He chuckled and walked over to pick me up. Only instead of take me somewhere else he pushed me against the wall and claimed my lips. I whimpered, for the act and because he tastes like strong alcohol too. It helps disguise the fact that I'm not drunk though so I don't complain. Just a little longer, until his full attention is on getting laid. His hands roam my body, rubbing my hips and sliding his hands back to squeeze my ass. What is with men and my ass! I turn my head away and gasp, not wanting to kiss him any longer but wanting to keep up my scheme. When his hand went to rub me I nearly gagged but managed to stay quiet. Charles went to unbutton my jeans and my hand twiched to my gun.

On the count of three. One. His hand unzipped my jeans the smile on his face wide. Two. His mouth moved to my neck sucking harshly but I didn't flinch. Three. My hand wrapped around the gun but before I could pull it out we were tackled to the ground. The force making me drop the gun on the floor and hit my head against the ground.

Besides the blood leaking from the cut on my head, the next thing I noticed was growling. My eyes widened when I saw Drake punch the now stunned Charles. Damn. I was so close to making a fast and easy kill!

"You fucker! Taking advantage of a fucking drunk person! Damn you!" He yells and sends a punch to his face again along with his stomach. Charles struggles from beneath him. I press a hand to my head and get up, grabbing my gun and just holding it. Where did Drake even come from? Shit, did he finally decide to suck me dry of blood or some crap like that?