❝ I didn't give a damn about anyone in a long time. And then you came along and pretty much blew that plan straight to hell. ❞
in which New York's most wanted man rescues a rich girl who is simply in the wrong place at the wrong time.
...
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"are you always this humble?"
"Alright." Curtis said, rubbing his temple. "You were going about your business, saw one of your business conquests was..."
"Let's just gloss over that. The thing is, do you mind her crashing here?" Frank asked his long time friend.
"Not at all."
"Somehow I don't think safety is this girls priority." Frank stated, folding his arms.
Tamara was fast asleep on Curtis's couch, and she still looked visibly disturbed after the night she had.
"I'm taking care of it."
Curtis glanced at Frank. He usually composed himself in a stoic manner and let his actions do the talking, but right now, him just mentioning Bobby had angered him.
"It's done now. You just get some rest yourself, alright?" He reassured him, putting a hand on his shoulder.
"I'll try."
Curtis looked at him.
"Frank. Just stay here for a bit, and just go back to God knows what tomorrow, huh?"
"I'm alright."
"Are you being serious? At least clean yourself up first, you lunatic."
He looked at his blood stained clothes. His top was almost torn.
Frank couldn't stop himself from laughing, and Curtis shook his head and chuckled.
The only person who he would let off calling him that was Curtis. He hated being branded as insane or crazy. Most newspapers had a field day calling him a psychopath.
Bobby was a feisty one.
Trying to scramble away and literally clawing at him when Frank dragged him out on the alley. He'd only stopped when he hit his head on the side of van.
"Should I call you when she wakes up?"
He shook his head.
"It'd be a hell of a lot better if she didn't ever see me again. For her own safety." Frank said, wistfully.
Curtis fetched a pen and some scrap paper from the kitchen draws. He scribbled a note and placed it on the coffee table in front of the couch Tamara was crashed on.
Tamara normally found comfort in her dreams. It was her only sanctuary from how hollow her life had become.
But now it was invaded with Bobby's unwelcome touch, her mind kept jumping back to how powerless she felt.
It was a mixture of anger and helplessness. How could he? What gave him any right at all to think he could do that?
She didn't owe him shit, and yet the way he was yelling, you would've thought she was in his debt.
