If Looks Could Kill

Chapter 8

Cassandra and Jane arrived at the John F. Kennedy International Airport, jet lagged and hungry, the girls grabbed a quick bite to eat at a small cafe, grabbing themselves breakfast, well, dinner since they arrived at night. She couldn't remember the last time it's been so hot in New York in the middle of the year. She was wearing a Veda black biker jacket on top of her white Zara t-shirt, blue jeans, and white canvas shoes. Jane, on the other hand, was wearing a black and yellow floral dress that accentuate Jane's legs which she topped off with white high heeled flats. The two girls blended right in New York. The first time Cassandra stepped foot in the melting pot, she was in awe, the city was huge and so crowded that one could get lost at sea. Many of the shops and food were exquisite, the fashion was taking a step back in time and the subways had lots of entertainment.

She shifted in her seat. A little too much entertainment for me.

Cassandra sighed, glancing at the clock on her phone.

9:32 pm.

She groaned, "Is that damn driver here yet? It's nearly midnight!"

Jane rolled her eyes, eating the last bite of her sandwich. Before leaving the San Francisco airport, the girls had a quick bite to eat at El Tapatio with her fiancé. Ryan who was somehow a softie, couldn't bear to be apart from her. She chuckled quietly, I was only going to be in New York for a little while. It's not like I am moving away forever.

The girls said their goodbyes with hugs and kisses and promised to bring back souvenirs.

"I'm sure the guy had some errands to run Cassy-Cat, and besides, New York is a big city, you're bound to get lost. So that's two reasons why he is running late."

She opened her mouth to retort when a scream pierced the air. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a young woman being cornered by two buff men, each holding a knife in their hands. The tall man with a scar running across his right eye was taunting the weapon at her, sneering, the shorter man with a missing pinky on his left hand licked his chapped lips as he inched forward to her. Bystanders stopped in their tracks and stared, fear behind their eyes, thoughts racing in their minds if they should interrupt and take action or ignore and walk away.

The young woman cowered in fear, "Pl-please someone hel-help!"

Taking the latter choice, the bystanders hurriedly pretended not to notice and walked away, sparing pity glances. A few even decided to take out their phones and record the event. Cassandra stood from her seat, scowling.

Fucking cowards.

The taller man of the duo snorted, "Don't even try to draw attention to yourself. It will only make things worse. Now hand over what you owe."

She vigorously shook her head and clutched her purse tighter, "I have no idea what you are talking about. You have got the wrong person!"

Pinky man spat on the floor by her feet, making his way to her. She flinched and backed away slowly. Thoughts raced in her mind. Palms sweaty and her breathing exhilarated, she knew she should have dumped the contents from her purse when she left her home when she had the chance. Now it was too late. They caught up with her. Was there really no one to stand up to these men, and save her?

He rolled his eyes and waved his knife at her, taunting her, "Look, lady, we don't have all day. Give us the money or we will force it out of you. I'm a very impatient man and when I am impatient..."

The scarred man suddenly took a lunge forward from behind and wrapped his arm around her neck, his knife by her throat. The metal so cold and sharp, with just a jerk of a movement and the woman, was dead. She gasped, her eyes widening and tears pricking at her eyes.