"Think you can take me?" I arched an eyebrow.
"Are you doubting me?" She answered.
//
Natalie Perkins, born in London. The FBI is after her for the assassination of fourteen men. All of them brutally murdered one day of the week, all of them left wi...
I don't need a man to make it happen I get off being free I don't need a man to make me feel good I get off doing my thing I don't need a ring around my finger To make me feel complete
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Men were pathetic.
They all were weak in certain aspects. Some of them for the simple fact they disrespected women and their bodies and others on the field, while fighting. Like this annoying cop.
No idea who he was, but I presumed he was the guy Desmond called before I knocked him out. Harry - I only knew his name because I had heard Desmond over the phone - mentioned both of them being related and that left me thinking. I most definitely couldn't kill a cop because the D.M.G. was already working its ass out to protect me, and killing a fucking FBI agent would be really stupid and reckless of me. Even so, I would've definitely killed him if it didn't involve major problems.
I was currently at the warehouse, waiting for dear Mr. Styles to wake up so I could have a little chat with him. I had an idea... the most risky though exciting idea I had come up with yet. Desmond and this Harry guy were father and son, and the look in the agent's face showed he actually cared about his father. So I didn't have to necessarily kill Desmond.
I could torture him and keep him for a while. Harry probably had waken up by now and he was for sure overworking his brain because he knew I was about to kill his father. They thought I'd leave him in a dumpster tomorrow, not which one, but a municipal one. But what if I didn't?
It would include messing up my whole schedule and my plans for the rest of the month, but this would be a low blow and they'd definitely wouldn't expect it. It was just to take security measures and keep them away, or at least scared, of me. It would make everything much simpler.
I would just keep Desmond in this warehouse for some days, weeks maybe. I wouldn't make any more appearances and they would definitely freak out. Maybe this backfired and they got even angrier, which meant they'd try harder to find me. But I could take perfect care of myself, so it wouldn't be a problem. Plus, this was different from what I had done in my entire second life. I was playing with fire, and by fire I meant the FBI.
I knew this time everything would be a little harder since Desmond wasn't a ghost like the rest of my victims, but I most certainly had no idea his son was a fucking FBI agent. I was really thrown off, but I was good at hiding emotions.
Now, it was time to think of all the possibilities. I had already gotten rid of every electronic devices Desmond had with him so they couldn't be tracked, but that was already my daily routine. I had tied him up to a chair, both wrists and ankles, and some blood was streaming down his nose because of how hard I had punched him.
Punching didn't hurt my knuckles anymore. In the beginning, they used to get all bruised and swollen, but I had developed some sort of numbness on that area and now I didn't even feel it. Besides, I had punched thousands of noses and sprained my wrists more than once, but now I was quite experienced and I knew how and where to punch in order for everything to go perfect. The good part about me was that I was ambidextrous, so I had fought with broken wrists more than once.
