I can’t help myself. I know I’m a fucking creep. I don’t give a damn. Ain’t no one out there who’s man enough to criticize me about it.

She knows I’ve been watching her. It’s in the way she looked at me at the funeral. It’s that same look she gave me from the cab window. There is longing in her eyes. Maybe she doesn’t know it yet. But I can tell. She wants to be saved.

“…bitch!” I hear the words from a distance and I just know that someone is begging death to come take them away. If they didn’t want to get a bullet to the chest, they wouldn’t call that beauty a bitch. If he knew any better, he’d fall to his knees and kiss the ground she walks upon.

This thug doesn’t have any fucking clue what he’s gotten himself into. As soon as I see her faint, I run and catch her. The look in her eyes is total shock, but I make sure she’s set on the ground lightly. That’s when I turn to catch that asshole.

I don’t even run after the guy. I simply hold my gun out and scream at the top of my lungs, “I’d stop if I were you. You wouldn’t want a bullet in your head.” He slows down to a walk, turning his head at me, and weighs his options. “Then again, maybe you do. It’s your choice, compadre.”

He comes to a halt, breathing quick and irregular. I walk towards him with my revolver pointed directly at his back and I can tell he’s still weighing his options. “I wouldn’t try anything if I were you,” I say. “I know you think you can get out of this with a quick move or two, but I’ve been killing people for a living for over 15 years now. I do love a good chase.”

“Shit!” He whispers under his breath. “Man, I didn’t do shit to you. Why are you over here caring about some dumb cunt?”

I shake my gun at him, getting closer to his body. “Wrong choice of words, pal.” When I’m close enough to him, I knock the butt of the gun against his thick skull. He falls to the ground. “Now, let’s try this again, shall we?”

“Fuck,” he moans, spitting onto the pavement.

I pick him up by his collar and lift him back off the ground. “Drop the purse and give me all your money,” I tell him. “And don’t argue with me again or I’ll knife you in the gut. Got it?”

“I got it, man,” he says, clutching his head. “Jesus. You didn’t have to come at me like that.”

“I did,” I say angrily. “Otherwise, you could’ve shot me with that pistol of yours. By the way, it’s a nice piece. I’m grateful for you sharing it with me.”

“Shit. My dad’s gonna kill me,” he moans.

I reach into my pocket and grab a zip tie, fastening it tightly around his wrists. “You’re damn right he is,” I mutter. “Truth is, you’re better off getting lectured. A kid like you shouldn’t be out on these streets with a gun. I bet you’ve never even fired the damn thing, have you?”

He squints hard and tries to save face. “Whatever,” he says. “I don’t need to prove nothing to you.”

I laugh. “Sure,” I say. “Fine. But you see that pretty girl over there?” He looks her way, ashamed he let himself get caught, and she dusts her dress off and rubs the side she fell on. “That pretty woman deserves some respect from you. Now, go apologize.”

Before he responds, the woman I’ve had my eyes on walks up and grabs her purse from me. She’s pissed, although I don’t have any idea why. “I’m fine,” she growls. “I can handle shit myself.”

“Hey, wait up a second,” I shout, as she walks away. Her backside looks fine as hell. I could sink into that like butter…

She stops and turns around at the corner. She takes a deep breath and says, “I’m grateful for your help. I really am. But it’s been a long weekend and I’d like to get home.”

I scratch my head. “Fine. I’m not stopping you,” I say.

“Good.” She turns around again to walk away but I put my hand on her shoulder. “What the hell? I thought you said you weren’t going to stop me? Why are you touching me?” The way she blushes tells me she’s thinking what I’m thinking. Still, I act respectful towards her. I don’t want her thinking the wrong things about me.

“Why are you acting like you don’t know who I am?” I ask her. “You saw me. Yesterday, at the funeral. You know what I did. Why haven’t you told anyone about me?”

“How do you know I haven’t?” she asks. “Anyway, I don’t need any more drama in my life. Thank you very much for your help, but I think I can take it from here.”

“At least let me walk you home,” I say. Shit, is she really going to make me beg like a pathetic loser? I mean, I like pussy as much as the next guy, but I’m not about to grovel on my hands and knees for it.

She sighs, looking all around. Maybe she’s looking for someone she knows, or maybe she’s waiting for a cop to walk by, so she can tell ‘em what I did. I don’t give a shit. I want her in my mouth. I need to bury my cock deep inside her.

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea.” My eyes follow the edge of her dress and every so often the wind blows it upwards, teasing me and exposing more flesh. I’m practically drooling.

“Sure it is. It’s a great idea. These streets are dangerous as sin,” I mutter. “And by the way, I know for a fact you didn’t tell anyone about me. If you did, I might be dead by now.”

“That’s why it’s not such a good idea,” she says. “You could get caught.”

“That’s a chance I’m willing to take, woman.” Her tits are perky and natural, just the way I like him. Her dress covers them elegantly and I can’t help but wonder what it would be like to rip the fabric to shreds.

“I can see that,” she laughs. “Listen. Are you crazy or something? Like, honestly. I’m a part of the Luciotti family. Does that name ring and bells for you? You could get massacred.”

“Some might say I’m crazy. Maybe they’re right. Who knows? But I highly doubt the Luciotti family has enough brains and brawn to take a man like me down. You don’t know who I am, little girl.”

Little girl. Those words sting. I can tell. I just want to drive the point home. I want her to realize who she’s dealing with before she falls head over heels in love with me. Okay, maybe I’m going into this like a cocky son of a bitch, but there hasn’t been one woman who’s turned me down yet. I doubt she’ll be the first.

“Then, tell me. Who are you?” she asks. “And don’t call me little girl. It’s gross and insulting.”

“My apologies,” I bow. “My name’s Hunter. Hunter Scapoli.”

“Is that name supposed to mean something to me?” She asks with enough sass to lay me out flat. She taps her foot impatiently when I smile. She’s brave. Nobody talks to me like she does. And, damn, does it turn me on.

“Doubt it. Not many people know who I am. Most think I’m dead. I’d like to keep it that way,” I say. “It’s easier to get things done when you’re a ghost.”

She laughs to herself, shaking her head. “Spooky,” she begins to walk, but motions me to come with. “Come on, ghost-man. Walk me home.”

“Come with me. This way.” I say, leading her down a secondary alleyway. These streets are my home now. I know every way to go. I have at least three different escape routes per avenue, and because my warehouse is in a central location, they all lead back home.

“So now that you’re taking me through some really sketchy alleyways, can you at least alleviate my fears that you’re not just some creep leading me to my doom?” she asks. “Like, what family are you working for exactly?”

“What family do you think I’m working for?” I eye her, walking fast, until we hit a busy street. We cross it and enter another back alley. Soon, we’re walking behind a neighborhood of dilapidated buildings, complete with burned out windows and graffiti of ticking watches that say ur time is up son.

“They all think you’re with New York. With Michael Tucciano. I don’t think they’re right though.” Smart woman.

As we walk, we come across a group of five or six drug slingers. They rob a young man and take off running in the opposite direction. What happened to my city? My beautiful city of Detroit, the one I grew up in. I have all sorts of memories here, and none of them are particularly good.

They’re my memories to hold. They paint a different picture of Detroit. It wasn’t long before the city collapsed. They say the city is getting better, but I hardly see a change. It’ll be a decade before it can thrive again. But that depends on the people pressing those buttons.

“New York?” I look at her cautiously. There’s nothing more dangerous than a woman with connections to the underworld. Then again, there’s nothing more fun. “Do I sound like I’m from New York to you?”

She laughs and gives me the side eye. She doesn’t know what to make of me. She’s full of fear and curiosity, two things that don’t mix well together. “No, I guess you don’t. Then again, you don’t look like you’re one of the New York boys, either.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? Should I take offense to that?” I ask her. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing walking this woman home. I’ve got a million hits out on my head. Anyone who has half a brain would have let her go. Me, however… well, she’s just too fucking hot to pass up.

I can’t stop imagining her voice, soft and breathy in my ear. Take me. Right here. Now. Rip my fucking panties off with your teeth. I imagine taking her right in this alley, fucking in a heat of passion. I want to take a belt to her ass. I want her to ride me until she screams with pleasure. I want her to writhe and moan as I shoot my cum all over her sex-slicked body.

I shake those images away. Being alone for the past three months has made me horny as hell. I have to remember to act like a gentleman.

“Those New Yorkers,” she says. “They’re all glitter and gold. I take one look at you and I can tell where you come from. I just don’t know who you’re serving. That part I can’t figure out.”

“Glitter and gold, huh? Maybe it’s best you don’t figure things out,” I warn her. “It’s not smart to get involved in these kinds of politics.”

“You’re right. I don’t really give a damn what gang you’re with. I hate the whole scene,” she sighs. I can tell we’ve hit a nerve. “It’s such bullshit, completely built on top of false ideology. I mean, you guys are all like killing each other left and right. And then you go home and you pray below your crosses and kiss your wife’s cheek. It’s totally insane. You know that, right?”

“Woman, you’re preaching to the choir,” I say. “You’re right. It is bullshit. So what’re you going to do about it?”

We’re near her house now and I know in a couple of minutes I’ll have to say goodbye. That’ll be it. We’ll go our separate ways. I’m not sure what I thought I’d gain by helping her out back there, but whatever I thought I’d get never came to fruition. Anyway, I can always find another strip club. I can find another broad.

“You know, I’m not going to do shit about it,” she laughs. “Really. I plan to finish out law school. I’m going to stay in San Francisco and I’m going to build a life. I guess I’ll spend out my days defending innocent people hurt by the system.”

I nod and pull out a cigarette from my pocket. I roll it around in my fingers, but don’t light it out of courtesy. “A lawyer? You? Well, that makes sense. You’re too intelligent for one of those low-level jobs,” I say. “They’ll try and use you though. That’s what they do. They use and they use, until you’re all used up. Then they throw you in the gutter.” She creases her forehead in thought. Maybe I’ve said too much.

“What do you mean they’ll use me? Who will?” she asks.

“Your Detroit friends. Ricky and the lot,” I say. “I know those guys well. You’re better off never talking to them again.”

“Oh yeah?” She skips ahead of me and turns around to face me. “You think I’m scared of them?”

“No, I suppose not,” I mutter. “That’s exactly why they’ll use you. All I’m saying is err on the side of caution.”

“Why do you care about helping me so much?” she asks. There it is. The big question. Why am I even here with her right now? Someone could see me. Someone could be holding a rifle to my head, right at this very moment. “What’s your deal?”

She’s stopped walking and is facing me like no other woman has before. I walk up to her slowly, eyeing her up and down. Does she know who she’s dealing with? Does she know I’m a killer? “I killed that man. Tony Maccione,” I say, under my breath. The streets are quiet. There’s only the sound of us, except for the noises of children playing in the distance.

“I know that,” she says, lightly. I can sense that she’s starting to feel the fear trickle in. Maybe she’s questioning herself, and wondering why the hell she took the beaten path with a guy like me.

“I don’t know why I’m helping you,” I admit. “I’ve never helped anyone in my life. I’m a snake, don’t you see? I belong in the shadows.”

“Do you always speak in riddles?” she asks. “It’s kind of weird, you know.”

I smile slightly. “Today could be my last day on this earth,” I say. “So I took a chance. I followed you.”

“Don’t you know how fucking creepy that is?” she asks me. I’m standing close to her now. I can practically feel her. Her breath quickens. When she breathes in, her tits press against her shirt and I can’t help but stare directly at them.

“Judge me all you want,” I tell her. “It’s like I said. Today could be my last day here. Carpé diem, right? This is me seizing the day.”

She swallows hard when I say the word, “seize,” and I wonder just how wet she is right now. She’s practically trembling against me.

“I don’t care about helping you,” I say. I can see her house in the distance. “I care about fucking you. I care about taking you behind this trashcan, ripping those black panties off, and stuffing my face between those dripping legs. I care about making you cum, over and over again, until you beg me to stop because the pleasure is too strong for you to handle.” I gulp down hard and I realize our bodies are touching. Shit. If anything were to happen, now would be my chance.

I move my hand over her tits, thinking about all of the ways I would rip the seam to set them free. God, they look incredible. My cock presses against my suit pants. It’s getting harder and thicker by the second.

“Don’t,” she whispers, shaking. “Just don’t.” She closes her eyes and I pull my hand back. Be a gentleman, I think to myself. I take a step back.

I quickly turn around and walk away from the scene. She’s left standing at the exit of the alleyway to her house. “It was nice talking to you. See you on the other side,” I mutter, about to turn the corner.

“Wait,” she calls out. I stop, but I don’t turn around. I just want to hear those words: Stay. Come to my house. Peel back my panties and fuck my brains out.

Of course, that’s just a fantasy I’ve built up in my head. I’m a crazy person, right? I’m a nobody who’s hell bent on killing everyone before going out in a blaze of glory.

“Will I see you again?” she asks.

“If you want to,” I say.

She hesitates. I have no fucking idea what’s going on in her head right now. She says “Maybe I do. Maybe I don’t. I’m not sure yet.”

“What’s your name?” I ask her. “I never got it.”

“Bianca,” she says.

“Maybe I’ll see you soon, Bianca. Then again, maybe you won’t. We’ll have to see.” I turn the corner and I don’t look back.

Bianca. Shit. I’m destined to be thinking about that ass and those tits all night.