After the rise of a vigilante; The Arrow, Starling City became a city constantly torn between heroes and villains. For Cece Jones the city was a temporary home, a pit stop. She made a living off running from her past, praying it wouldn't catch up to...
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He was just exiting with Diggle right behind him. All I could see was his long black coat. I snatched my purse and rushed out the door.
"Hey!" I waved an arm to get his attention. "Mr. Queen, wait!"
Like a quick gust of wind, I felt a tug on my purse. With sheer perplexity, I stared at the young boy. He tugged, I tugged back ten times harder. I was about to get robbed.
Marvelous.
"Talk about a grip. Can you make my life easier and just... let it go," he huffed.
The audacity!
"What? Do I look like fucking Elsa to you? This is my purse you assh-" he was already running with my bag in one hand and another jabbed in his red hoodie. "What th- fuck."
I wasn't about to be some impotent, helpless woman so I ran after the son of a bitch. Running seems to be a tendency considering the past few days. A familiar soreness plagued my legs. My purse had everything. My wallet, my Medical ID, and my gun. My freakin' gun. Just the thought of a potential weapon in the hands of a bad man made me run faster. The wind blew my hair and every direction possible; darkening the scene before me. I ran as fast as I could.
Oh, Lord. This was just what I needed.
My legs stiffened as my muscles clenched after every quickened pace. One... Two... Three... Four... Five blocks. The queasy feeling slithered its way back. Right ahead of me, the sidewalk cut off into an active road. I guess red hoodie was too busy glancing back at me to realize the limo that was casually rolling by.
I heard a thwack! Then, I saw all the contents f my purse spill everywhere, distinct groaning filled the atmosphere. Served him right.
"Son of a bitch!"
I fell to my knees, a pounding in my head intensifying until it became unbearable. The tips of my hair were replaced with the moisture of sweat. Hot. So damn hot. My ears were burning from the cold.
SOB, stumbled his way up but a firm hand gripped him down. It belonged to the man that had stepped out of the limo with a phone in his opposite hand.
"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't use this phone to call the police right now."
SOB's face was as red as his hoodie; his chest desperately rising and falling.
