The Hustle

Chapter 1- Damsel in Distress

I glance around the bar through partially hooded eyes, and I can see the thick black mascara I put on in my peripheral vision. For some reason this look, as if I'm looking into the sun while simultaneously being bored to death, is something men find insanely sexy. Or appealing. Either way, it always seems to work for me.

I sit and sip my mojito, enjoying the sweet and refreshing taste, while looking for tonight's conquest. No, not that kind of conquest, anyone in this bar is probably skeezy, and if not they have other plans instead of hooking up with me. I'm looking for a person to rob, someone who deserves it I might add! Wether they deserve it because they're insanely rich or an asshole, we will find out.

I look down the bar to a woman wearing the most beautiful Louboutins I have seen in a long time. I know what lengths she must have gone to in order to get those shoes. Because I got them last week. They were stilettos, and had these silver sparkle all over them with sporadic other silver gems and spikes sticking out. They were gorgeous. And expensive.

I really appreciated those shoes the more I looked at them.
She ordered a martini, ever so classy. And I watched as she turned away from the bar when someone got her attention from the right of her. A man slid a 100$ bill to the bar tender, and I watched as a sprinkle of something was dropped in her drink, by the man who just gave the tend 100$ to keep quiet. I get up with my mojito in hand, and as I walk by the woman and her margarita, my heel slips out from under me. And I spill my mojito straight onto the counter and into that margarita. The man becomes agitated very quickly and I peel myself off the barstool I caught myself on. I look up at the woman and apologize,
"I am so sorry, here, let me buy you another drink because I ruined your first." I am already sliding cash to the bar tender and the woman thanks me for my generosity.
The man however doesn't seem to agree and I watch his eyes following me the entire night.

She was so out of his league whether she was drugged or not she would've known that, I'm just letting him down easy. Men, so easily agitated and offended sometimes.

I feel his dirty gaze on me while I dance in the crowd, and when I spin around seductively I can see him staring at me and pointing me out to his ugly friends. They all hold the angriest scowls, and grin like wolves. Little do they know I'm not just some pretty girl in a tight dress at a dirty club. I am not their next meal, or their next victim. That girl they went after at the bar was just there by chance. I know because I watched her leave with her friends and the focus of the goon squad didn't falter at all. They just wanted a warm body. And instead of her it was me.

Perfect.

I watch one of the gross men leave the pack and begin to circle around the dance floor. When he enters into my area I continue dancing but start to back up on him, because I'm just a party girl who doesn't even notice the group of guys who look sadistically towards me! *Cue hair twirl and ditzy look* Instead of hesitating and taking me like he was supposed to, he thinks with his other head, and continues to let me grind on him. In fact, he encourages it. Putting his grubby hands on the hips of my dress, touching material that was way to expensive for him to feel. I make sure his interest is peaked, before turning around and excusing myself with a slightly bitchy tone.
Oops?
"I'm going to the ladies room, excuse me," I begin to walk away, when he grabs my wrist.
"You're not going anywhere slut my friend wants to talk to you," I fake shock at his statement and cower over a little bit. An obvious misogynist like him will believe I'm weak anyways, but I threw that in for extra measure, so when I kick his ass or steal his car he will take it that much harder. This man deserves both bruised balls and a bruised ego.

He drags me by my wrist towards his little feral wolf pack, led obviously by the most handsome of them, the one with the most charm and charisma. He's my target.
I know the eyes of many guys are on me constantly, and using that to my advantage I struggle extra hard and beg the man to let me go.
"Hey! Let go of me! Let go! Who are you? Leave me alone!" He just grunts at me to shut up and continues walking until we reach the group. At this point I'm yanking and pulling my arm with weak strength hoping that a bystander will notice and rescue me.
I'm a damsel in distress, what can I say?

"You are the perfect slut for me to bring home tonight," says the pack leader. What's with this group and calling me a slut? I'm not dressed that slutty. I like to keep things classy. That's the crowd I'm aiming to con, not the broke college kids.
"Excuse me? I don't even know you! Let me go!" And I see the movement out of the peripherals of my eyes. Someone is moving towards us.
"You stopped that woman from going home with me, and I'm going to make you pay for it!" The man angrily growls out at me.
"I don't even know what you're talking about! Let me go! Let go of me right now!" And the movement gets closer and closer. He seems to be a big guy. Way bigger than any of this little pack of animals. I'm 'struggling' to get out of his grasp when the figure steps up presumably right behind me.

"She said let go." And of course his voice had to sound like smooth dark chocolate, deep and rich. And of course the wolf pack leader couldn't take a hit to his ego, classic alpha male syndrome. He isn't the boss in everyday life, and when he finally is the boss he can't relinquish power. It's a huge hit to his ego.
"Mind your own business," says wolf pack leader. I've already watched two of his four friends disperse into the crowd. Obviously to avoid any altercation that their stupid ass leader is going to provoke.
"I'm not going to ask again." Said my savior. Oooo I have a tough guy behind me. I wonder if he likes the view? I could use a good dicking...

Anyways, leader man let's me go, and I fake stumble around him and steal his wallet and see he doesn't have any car keys. He reeks of booze, at least he's smart enough to not drink and drive. I need a getaway car.
I turn around and look at my savior. Better yet I look up, at my savior. Which is saying something because I'm fairly tall, 5 foot 8 and with these heels I'm 5 foot 11.
My savior is also violently attractive, and I recognize him. I just can't put my finger on where from. The tiny scar through his brow is what make me remember, and the tattoos peaking out under his shirt.
My savior lifts the guy up by his shirt, whispers something in his ear and throws him to the side. All with the ease of picking up a book bag. I immediately run to him and hug him saying thank you over and over again, fulfilling my role as the damsel in distress. All the while I steal his car keys and valet slip. I give him a kiss on the cheek, and a seductive wink before walking out. He's not really dazed from what I can tell, not surprising. He's definitely rich because of the Audi keys I have in my hand now, and he's very handsome so he's probably used to flirty women. He also didn't flinch or care at all when I threw myself at him, he's got no shame. It's likely he won't even remember me.

I hand the valet a 50 I took from the leader of the assholes' wallet and the valet pass. He looks at me in shock and happiness, the tip being a bit grandiose at a place where it's 10$ to valet park. He returns with a beautiful grey Audi, and I peel out. Hoping that kid can find a job sometime that doesn't have him working until 2am on a Thursday night.

Overall a successful night, a new car, a lot of cash, and a personal vendetta against a group of punks and a handsome man who's missing his beautiful car.

Poor guy doesn't even know who hustled him.