"Ohh, fuck! They found me." Nicholas spat with his teeth gritted as he started running down the crowded street sidewalk.
"Get him!" a deep voice snarled from behind.
Seven men dressed in all black were running after Nicholas.
Each one was bald, built like a wall, and had an inked dagger tattoo on their right hands.
Because it was a Friday night, the sidewalk was crowded with people hurriedly heading to their various destinations.
Nicholas's hands were stretched forward as he shoved through the crowd, while at the same time, his heart pounded and his lips quivered.
He should've known stealing from a Mafia-run strip club would come back to haunt him, but he needed the money. His mother needed it.
Nicholas knew he had messed up with the wrong person since he had always heard rumours that the owner of the club where he works was a powerful Mafia Don, known for killing whoever messed with him.
The night wind whipped against his skin as he pushed forward, legs burning, lungs on fire, but he couldn't stop. Stopping meant death.
Nicholas could hear their footsteps growing closer, heavy and relentless, but he was fast. Years of athletic training kept him ahead… barely.
Then he darted left and charged into the street, crossing just as the light turned green.
^ HOOONK ^
The loud horns of different cars flooded Nicholas's ears as he rushed into the busy night road, prompting some driver to step on their car brake as a means of avoiding running over him.
"Do you have a death wish?!"
"Watch where you're going, young man!"
"Are you insane?!"
"Move it, man!"
"Hey! Watch it!"
The relentless cold words of angry drivers were hurled at Nicholas as he stumbled to the front of different cars in order to successfully cross over to the other side of the road.
"Shit," he muttered, dragging his hands through his black hair, pushing it out of his face as he kept running.
He didn't have to look back to know the angry drivers had turned their fury toward him and the black-clad men were still chasing him.
Still, Nicholas ran.
His hair danced with the wind, and likewise his loose white jacket.
"Get the Mafia don!" an unfamiliar voice yelled.
Mafia don? Nicholas thought, but there was no time to wonder. Right now, survival was all that mattered.
Three days ago, Nicholas had stolen money from the strip club safe to pay his mother's hospital bill.
He stole ten thousand dollars in cash.
Nicholas thought he could get away with it. Thought he was invisible. But a hidden camera proved otherwise.
When the club manager found out about what Nicholas had done, he warned Nicholas to return the money or die, but unfortunately, Nicholas had spent almost all the money on his mother's health, which wasn't getting any better like he had expected it to be.
It had been two days since Nicholas fled home and quit the strip club job, but his manager's men found him faster than he expected.
Presently, as Nicholas ran into the subway station, his feet echoed in the busy area as he climbed down the stairs and rushed over to where trains were being boarded.
From afar, Nicholas noticed that a train was about to board out of the subway station, and quickly he rushed onto the train.
Just as the doors began to close, someone crashed in behind Nicholas, shoving him over to the side before taking more steps inside the train.
From those pursuing Nicholas, five of them were able to catch up with the train before the door finally slid closed.
"I'm doomed," Nicholas purred beneath his breath as he scanned the train, a bead of sweat rolling down from his forehead as they collided with his skin.
"Told you, you can't run from me," one of the men who had stepped inside the crowded train inquired.
In an instant, Nicholas felt his legs becoming weak and he felt rooted to the same spot.
"I… I…"
"Cat got your tongue?" One of the men scoffed as he watched how Nicholas took slow, measured steps backwards.
"Plea… please I…"
"You can't speak now?" another mocked, watching as Nicholas backed away, hands up in a defensive manner, tears sliding silently down from his eyes as they kissed his cheek.
"Please… just tell your boss… tell him I need more time… please…"
"Shut the fuck up!" The man who had spoken some minutes ago exclaimed with clenched teeth, drawing the attention of those in the train.
Most individuals averted their gaze towards him, but none of them bothered to step in. "You either pay or you come with us."
Following his words, he gave a brief nod, signalling his other four companions.
Nicholas shook his head sideways, his lips quivering even more in fright as he trembled. "No… I can't… I can't allow you guys to take me, so please… please give me some time." He stammered, taking more steps backwards.
Scoffed.
One of the tattooed men scoffed as he stretched his hands over to grab Nicholas's shoulder, but in one swift, solid motion, Nicholas slapped the man's hands towards the side, turned around and began to run, catching them off guard.
"You sly little snake."
They immediately followed Nicholas as he snatched a curtain separating the restroom area from the passenger areas.
Since there are five restrooms on the train, Nicholas hurried to open the door of the first one he came across, but it was locked, suggesting that someone was most likely inside.
Nicholas hurried to the next restroom, only to discover it was locked.
"Gosh! What… what do I do?" Nicholas questioned himself, his breath caught in his throat as he hurried to open the third restroom door because those after him were getting closer.
Just from a distance, Nicholas could hear their footsteps, but they weren't running towards him, but rather, they were walking casually in the direction of the restroom, believing he had nowhere left to go unless he planned on jumping out of the moving train.
Just like the previous door, the third door was also locked.
"Fuck," Nicholas whispered, eyes wide with panic and with fast reflex as he rushed over to the fourth door and instead of trying to check if it was locked, he kicked the door open with his feet.
Boom…
The door burst open, and inside stood a man.
Tall. Bruised. Bleeding and holding a dagger.
Nicholas halted for some split seconds, contemplating whether he should check the other restroom, but as the footsteps grew louder, he rushed inside the restroom and shut the door.
"Get out!" The injured man growled, eyeing Nicholas from head to toe.
Nicholas gasped, slamming his lips for some seconds before speaking up with a stuttering voice. "Please… please help me," he begged, tearing off the flashy top he'd worn from the club and shoving it behind the man's back. "Please… can I borrow your jacket?"
"What the fuck are you trying to do…"
"Keep it down!" Nicholas snapped.
Although the man had a dagger in his hands, he didn't seem more dangerous than those who were after him.
Nicholas's mind raced. He had no weapons, no escape plan, just one man and a bleeding one at that.
Think, Nicholas, think.
The only card Nicholas had left was the one he used to hate playing. But right now, shame wouldn't save him.
Working as a stripper had taught Nicholas how to survive in this cruel world and how to get his way and currently, he could vividly recall how he had used sex to get out of trouble from more powerful men who tried to exploit him.
"I have to act fast." Nicholas blurted out, his gaze moving from one end to another as he breathed heavily.
"Hey! Get out before I make you regret…"
"Sorry," Nicholas spurred, cutting off the stranger from completing his statement as he sucked in a breath and did the unthinkable.
Nicholas reached for him and, with his heart hammering in his throat, he pressed his lips against those of the mysterious stranger.