Arresting the Don

Grace Watson

GRACE

I was walking on the street when I realized that someone was following me. I turned around the corner and saw the wide and empty streets of Bristol. Not even a stray dog or cat was there. As I listened carefully, I realized that there were not one but three stupid men following me. I rolled my eyes at this. I was not in a mood to take a fight. I was walking on the streets to relax, and here they were, stupidly following me, thinking me of some weak, innocent girl.

A whistle was heard from behind me and one of them said, "Come on baby, slow down. We are tired of chasing you."

I hurriedly made my way towards a building. I didn't want to harm them, not at least now, but it seemed that they were pushing my limits of tolerance. Soon, the three shadows came near me and one of them said "Come out, baby. We know you are here."

Asshole! Just when one of them neared the spot where I was standing, I slammed my knife down his head, and when he turned around, I jumped away. A smile stretched my lips. f**k! I will enjoy this.

"A fighter." One of them sneered and came rushing toward me. But I was ready, my leg kicked out and my elbow hit at the spot where his kidney should be. He groaned, doubling over, and falling down on the ground.

Another came from behind and then another from the left. I jumped over the doubled-over man, to face the other two. Never let your back be vulnerable.

"Come on p*****s, try to be men." I taunted them, with my focus on the two men who were now coming toward me with their faces red with rage.

"I will teach this b***h a lesson." Then, another said, "We will kill you after being satisfied with your delicious-looking body..."

The two men jumped at me at the same time, one of them with his building fat body, grabbed my neck and pushed me back against the wall. I had not realized how close to the wall I was, and now I was trapped with one man's arm around my neck and another's fist coming to my face.

I could not stop myself from doing it, and moreover, I wanted to do it. I slipped my hand o the side at my waist and got my knife free from its casing. Then in the next second, it was embedded in the middle of the chest of the man who had dared to grab me by the throat, and at the same time as his hold had slackened, I slipped free and heard the cracking of knuckles against the brick wall where my face should have been if I had not moved.

Both the men turned to look at me, one with anger and the other with horror in his eyes as he looked at me and then at the knife sticking out from his chest. I met his eyes and smiled serenely. Then, without wasting a second, I kicked out as the second one stepped closer to me. He clutched his groin and cried out going down on his knees.

But, I was not done yet. I punched him in the face before I wrapped my fingers around the hilt of my knife and pulled it out of the first man's chest, taking satisfaction when he fell down on his floor with his hand going to his chest in an attempt to stop the blood flow.

Now with my knife in my hand, I looked at that man kneeling down in front of me and placed the tip of the knife on his forehead.

"Please, don't!" He pleaded.

As I looked at him, I realized that I was not alone anymore. That I had an audience. Two men were standing there, one with pride and the other with wonder and admiration in his eyes as they looked at me. I ignored them for the moment and with my knife in my hand I walked to the man on the ground, he tried to get away from me. But I chuckled and pressed it to his shirt and wiped it clean before slipping it in my case at my side.

And then, I met their eyes. First green ones, just like mine, and then brown.

My father looked at me from top to bottom and said "Grace, are you okay?"

I nodded and answered, "Perfectly fine, dad."

"I am glad that nothing happened to you...Miss Watson." I rolled my eyes at this statement made by James, who considers himself as my future husband. But I don't give a damn about him.

"Come, dear...I have a new project for you. And I expect you to start working on it from next week...so let me give you the important details of it..." Dad told me, it sounded more like an order. I was more like his agent, and less like his daughter. He never treated me like any ordinary father would treat his daughter.

I nodded and went with him...looking forward to my new project.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

EXCITED?