Angelic Sins (Part 1)

Chapter 4: The Jogger

I'm a person that minds my business. I go through my everyday life in a routine. Any changes or interruptions in my routine are guaranteed to piss me off. The jogger finds that out the hard way.

As I turn the street this Sunday, carrying my mountains of newspapers, I hear speedy steps. I quicken my feet, and so did they. In my field of work, I must be quite barbaric. I run strictly on instinct, especially if I feel my life is in danger. I continue walking. 

"If you're following me, I would advise you to stop." I say without turning around. 

No response.

I turn the corner while reaching my arm back, snatching the perpetrator by the shirt, and slamming their back against the brick exterior of the building. In a flash, the dagger hidden in my boot is stroking against his adams apple.

"Who are you and why are you following me?" I ask looking in his eyes.

Those...big, blue eyes that are the perfect shade, so much so that they could pass for grey. He began to stutter and remove the earbuds from his ear. Oops. That would explain his lack of acknowledgement to my warning.

"I am just jogging. I wasn't following you. Please. Just lower the dagger. Let's talk?"

A bead of sweat drips down his face, from the vivacious curls covering his head.  I lower the dagger returning it to my boot.

"Sorry." I say quickly collecting my newspapers.

"Well wait," he grabs my hand. "Are you ok? Are you in danger?" 

I snatch my hand away, but when I look at his face, full of concern, it made me wish he were holding it a little longer.

"As of about 30 seconds ago, you were the only one here in danger." I say smiling a little.

He actually smiles back, wiping the fear from his face.

"I understand. You're super short, gorgeous, and I didn't spot a ring, so I take it that you're single. You have to do what you have to do to protect yourself."

He talks as if he had known me for years.

"You sure are pretty observant and flirtatious in near death situations." 

I walk away nodding to his statement. He follows.

"Well, hold on a second! You did have a dagger to my throat. I couldn't help but look at your hands. If you would have killed me, our pictures would be shown side by side on the news. Name a better killer-victim duo. What's your name?"

"You can call me Heiress" I respond. "And your sense of humor is terrible."

"That's a strange name, beautiful to say the least, but very unheard of. I'll take that as a compliment."

I remained quiet.

"My name is Giovanni" he continues.

"I didn't ask, and you can return to your jog now" I snap, as I turn on the street of my apartment complex.

I sit on a bus stop bench, pretending to wait for the approaching bus.

"Look, I know we didn't get off to a great start, but here. I hope you will talk to me at a later time, in much different circumstances. Then maybe you will see that my humor is not so bad after all."

He hands me a business card to Mendel's Coffee Shop with his personal number written on the back of it, and jogs away. As he left, his curls bounce behind him, and I couldn't help but stare. What is wrong with me? I thought. Why on earth would someone want to be in my presence when I was seconds away from removing their trachea? When he is out of my sight, I get up from the bench and enter my apartment, feeling stranger than a body without its head.