Protector {Damian W.}

Soiled Clothes

Want you to make me feel...

Like I'm the only girl in the world...

Like I'm the only one that you'll ever love...

Like I'm the only one who knows your heart...

"Cold does not fucking please me." I mutter under my breath as I shove my hands in my grimy pockets, speed walking to keep up with my target.

I swear he best have something worthwhile or imma gut 'em.

Her target looks over their shoulder and begins to speed up.

"Ohh, this just became fun." I murmur with a grin, turning right into an alley that loops around to the kinda sorta abandoned main road.

And here we are.

I think as I see him leisurely walking towards his car in an abandoned parking lot.

Is he asking for me to drop in?

...

What if he is?

That thought makes me slow down. After all, it could be a trap. 

Screw it, it's my only lead.

Mind made, I rush him from behind, knocking his feet out from under him while simultaneously pinning him with a knife to his neck and my knees in his shoulder blades.

"P-p-please d-don't hurt me! Y-you c-can have my w-wallet!" He blubbers as he thrashes beneath me.

"I don't want your money," I hiss with a gravelly voice. "I want info. On... Deathstroke. I know you've been in contact with him."

"W-what, w-why would I —"

"Listen pal," I rasp, sliding the blade oh so slowly over his skin, with such gentle precision... "When you breathe the same air as the big bads, its best to expect someone like me. So you either stop wasting my time right now, or I cut your throat."

He lets out a hoarse laugh, "You'll slit my throat either way!"

"Maybe, maybe not. But if you waste too much of my time I guarantee I will."

"...He stays at... Point Blank...been there since Monday, he'll move Friday..."

"See, that wasn't so hard was it?"

"P-please let me go!"

"Of course." I purr.

Shlick!

I let his head drop forward and get up wrinkling my nose at my soiled clothes.

"You've been a real help hun, and thanks for the money. I could use it to wash out your blood. See ya 'round."

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Hi.