Saints Can't Help Me Now || Salem & Nadia
— Far from scared.
Guns were one thing, but steel? She finds faith in it. Forget bullets and the risks of jamming. There’s also the experience of a merciless hell, she had been hardened by the scars of her past and learned a lot. Found people fucking useless. This one was rather young and that’s the only reason why it might have been surprising at first. Lost a lot too, huh? Not that I give a shit though. Nadia merely stared back in the face of danger and clicked her tongue.
“Why don’t you come and get it.”
Not that the boy would know - how familiar the object that her fingers curled around, in the pocket of her jacket. Or is it that he might know how it feels? One way to find out.
Salem saw her digging around in her pocket and felt himself grow wary. Was she armed? It didn't matter if it was a knife or pepper spray or a gun. If he wasn't the only one with a weapon, he automatically lost his advantage.
However, he couldn't show any sense of fear. His expression was ice and stone and steel. Cold. Flat. Unreadable. The laugh that escaped him held no mirth, "I like 'em feisty. But stop playing games. Give me what I want, and we won't have any problems, alright?"
Usually, he had better luck than this. Usually the women were the ones who would give up their money without question and he could slip away into the shadows. Unquestioned.
But this woman was more trouble than he was used to. He took a subtle step back. Just in case.
