"I'm not a contract killer." he snapped angrily, wrinkled his nose in disgust and added more calmly, "I'm a mercenary. Usually I get to hit people until they pay their debts, or blow up something, or deliver packages of dubious origin. I've shot my share of people, mostly armed ones that wanted to shoot me too - until I met you. I was ready to blow out your brains when I went into the men's room, but there you were, sucking happily on that darn ugly cock." He drained his cup, swallowing with a contented smile, and continued, "I waited and watched you, and then I started to think. 'Why would the Mafia send a mercenary for a simple kill? He's got no weapons at all.' I told myself, 'maybe they want to set you up.' So when you gave me that kicked-puppy-look I decided to find out more."
Noom stood up, unbuttoned his washed-out jeans, and walked over to his battered desk to switch the music. "When I saw your penthouse and learned your name, I got even more suspicious of the whole 'Kill him' story. So I decided to take you with me. Have a little fun, you know. Find out if they want to get me arrested."
His sudden chattiness blanched me. I wasn't stupid, and I had heard and seen enough in my life to know that he really meant to kill me if he told me so much. Up to this point I hadn't believed he would do it, and the realisation hit me like a freight train. What was I supposed to do now?
First my nail beds began to tingle, then the skin above my tailbone began to itch, and I realised that I was panicking. My instincts screamed for me to shift, to take on my fighting shape and defend my life for all it was worth. But to shift in front of a human meant to sign his death sentence. Even if he planned to kill me, I just couldn't wrap my mind around killing him.
I did the only thing left for me: I ran.
The pat-pat-pat of my naked feet echoed over the hardwood steps as I pounded down the stairs, followed closely by his call "Stupid fucking bitch-" and the sound of his boots barreling down behind me. The unfamiliar territory downstairs made me lose my pace only for a second, but it was all Noom needed to catch up. Just as I reached for the front door he barreled into me, driving me into the solid wall right next to the door and taking my breath away. One of his hands grabbed my hair, then he dove my head against the wall two times, stunning me completely. The whole attack had been so fast that I hadn't even had time to cry out.
Blood dripped from a laceration on my forehead, leaving a pattern worthy of a Rorschach-picture on the white wall, and I had a front row seat to examine it with benumbed eyes while his harsh grip bore against my back and his breath bristled with anger.
"You listen now, scrap, because I won't tell you again. If you try to run ever again, I'll make a long cut around your waist, grab the skin and pull it over your head. You won't die from that, but you will suffocate slowly, you get my drift?" His voice was thin with menace, biting every word right into my left ear, where his lips brushed against my hair.
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