Unfortunately for us, it looks like the calm of this quiet afternoon is about to co to an end.
One of those bastards sitting at the bar tables has apparently decided to go beyond the usual inappropriate comnts he’s been throwing Kimberly’s way ever since we sat down.
«Hey, you, blonde doll. You’re really beautiful, you know?» a middle-aged man starts — ugly, short, chubby and... fuck, he even reeks like a sewer. He sways on his feet beside our little table, looking like he might collapse at any second. «You know, I saw a photo of you displayed in the window of a boutique on Fifth Avenue, and you should know that just last night I jerked off thinking about it. So... you must be a model, right? You know, my friends and I were just wondering what a model like you is doing hanging around with a loser like him. Why don’t you dump this kid and co with ? I’ll show you how a real man treats a woman — believe , once you’ve had , you’ll never want any other cock in the world besides mine,» he adds, flashing an exaggeratedly sinister grin, probably trying to look tough or scare .
From the way he talks and from the stench of his breath, he’s clearly drunk as hell... exactly the kind of prey I used to go after during my night hunts in the outskirts of New York. Seeing people like this roaming around and shalessly harassing others almost makes regret giving up that old habit of cleaning up shady alleys. I’m the superhero this city needs but doesn’t deserve.
Unfortunately, it’s still dayti and, more importantly, we’re not alone. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have hesitated for a second to smash his fat, disgusting face into the asphalt.
This sack of shit sure has so nerve, belittling and acting like he’s a real man. I’d bet my soul that at fifteen I already had ten tis his experience with won, and that not even in a hundred lifetis would he ever match what I have now. What a pathetic fat loser...
Kimberly, once again proving how sharp and intelligent she is, does the only sensible thing soone like her can do in a situation like this: she pretends he doesn’t exist. She doesn’t even glance at him, even though her discomfort and concern are painfully obvious.
I just shake my head and smile, going along with her choice to act like nothing’s happening, hoping the fat bastard will eventually get tired of being ignored and go back to his table. Even so, my hands are itching, and I’m having a hell of a ti keeping them buried in my pockets.
But, as expected, he’s not the kind of guy who gives up just because you ignore him.
«Can you hear or not, stuck-up bitch? Or do I have to unplug your ears by sticking my cock in them?! I’m talking to you — look at when I talk to you!» the man slurs loudly.
At that shout, another ugly mug abruptly gets up from the sa table where the fat guy had been sitting monts earlier and lumbers toward us with heavy, unsteady steps. This one’s a brute well over two ters tall — a Black man in his fifties, built like a retired boxer.
Once again, Kimberly forces herself to ignore them. She takes a sip of hot chocolate from the mug she’s holding with trembling hands, probably as much from fear as from anger. Maybe next ti she’ll think twice before inviting out for a drink to a place that stank of shit from a mile away.
«These two brats giving you trouble, Frank?» the man asks as he cos up beside him, looming over us.
«Don’t worry, Jamal. This little bitch was just about to dump this loser and co away with !» Frank snaps back, visibly irritated. And right after that, he reaches for Kimberly, trying to grab her by the shoulders — practically throwing his full weight at her.
But it takes a lot more than a clumsy, drunk fat idiot to catch off guard. Thanks to my supernatural vampire reflexes, I move first, driving a sharp punch up under his chin before he can so much as touch her.
Frank crashes onto his back, his jaw and teeth shattered, blood pouring from his mouth. He can’t even scream, clutching his ruined jaw in agony — I must’ve broken that too.
I tried to hold back as much as I could. If I’d hit him with my full strength, his head would’ve torn free from his body and flown several blocks away. And yet... damn it, I didn’t an to leave him like this. When did I get this strong? Maybe all those training sessions with John Hardley boosted not only my control over Sanguis energy, but my physical strength as well.
Jamal, however, doesn’t just stand there watching. He clenches his right fist and lifts it, ready to bring it down on , but—
«Jamal, try it and I’ll slam you right back inside again!»
Fortunately — Jamal’s luck, obviously — the tily arrival of a police patrol makes him reconsider. He backs away from the table, hands raised, retreating as two officers close in on him.
On instinct, just before the cops reach us, I stand up and grab Kimberly’s hand.
«Next ti maybe it’s better if I pick the place, okay?» I say, dragging her away at a run from that den of thugs.
She barely nods, letting herself be pulled along and running as fast as she can. Poor thing — she’s clearly still in shock from what just happened. Even though, of course, she can’t possibly know that we were never really in danger, and that if anything, it was those two assholes who were saved by the police.
After a few minutes of fast walking, deliberately sticking to the most crowded streets, with her hand still tightly clasped in mine, Kimberly finally starts to calm down. We sit on a bench to figure out what to do next.
But unfortunately, it really doesn’t look like this is over yet.
Kimberly definitely couldn’t have noticed, but those two ugly mugs are still following us.
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