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New York City
Her nose was to her phone screen when she passed. Jacobson stepped out to follow, biding his time for the group she was with to thin out. One block later, he grabbed her, slipping a hulking arm around her neck while the other covered her mouth. She went limp, forcing him to drag her down the alley.
He shoved her face first into the wall. “You think you can follow–.” The woman was stronger than she looked and pushed back, then reached to claw at his face. He moved his head away and tightened his hold on her neck. “You f***ing bitch!”
She grasped the base of his thumb and gave a hard yank down, rolling his wrist in a direction it wasn’t meant to turn. A line of fire shot up his arm and let go of her, but she didn’t let go of him. The woman spun around, and her balled fist made rapid and repeated contact with his groin. Jacobson went down to his knees, moaning, his arm still held out at an awkward and painful angle.
“I’m terribly sorry,” she purred in his ear. “Does this hurt?” He took a swing at her, but she bent his wrist and arm further in retaliation. “You accost a young woman in a dark alley, and you think there’s no price to pay?”
“You little c***,” he snarled. “I’m gonna f***ing kill you.” A wet snap came from his wrist, sending a shock of intense pain up his arm. His howl was again cut off by a delicately placed boot to his testicles. She released his arm to grab the back of his collar and pulled him up. Jacobson froze at something cold and sharp pressed against his jugular.
“Touch her again, and you’ll not see your death coming,” she whispered. There was a millisecond of blinding pain in the back of his head, then blackness.