He’s not overly surprised by the sight he sees when he quietly ducks into the alleyway. Some people had absolutely no imagination when carrying out their darker, twisted fantasies. It’s not hard getting himself behind the younger man, whose attention is far too invested in what looks like an even younger woman trapped between him and the building's side. Even easier to slip his right hand in his short locks and yank him off the poor girl.
“Run,” he tosses out. He barely spears the girl a glance before he’s moving his left hand up, switchblade out, and slashing it deep into the dumbasses throat. He just barely remembers to tilt his head down, so the idiot isn’t spraying them both with blood as he jerks the stranger around and drives his blade into his stomach a half dozen times.
Rolling his eyes, at her half shrieking screams, Jake sighs. Some people. Just far too dramatic for his tastes, he gripes in his head as refocuses on the man and watches him clutching half at his throat and half at his stomach. He watches as he slides down and slumps over, watches as he goes limp. Then watches for half a moment longer before he’s sliding his knife back into his pocket and zipping up his jacket.
Grimacing as he does, when he feels the tacky wetness of his shirt sticking to his skin. Idiot, he chides to himself. He shouldn’t have moved in close, gotten so up into the strangers space. Now he was covered in blood and he couldn’t not go back to his five star hotel till he cleaned himself up enough.
Or…
He pauses to think. It was a pretty shitty part of the city. Maybe he could clean up the best he could and then go start a bar fight to explain what he couldn’t? Hmm.
A little more thought, he thinks. Meandering out of the alleyway, going at the same slow pace he’d been going at all evening. No need to draw unnecessary attention to himself trying to get away from the scene.
