Silently toying with the half-smoked cigarette between his fingers, Matt looked around at the other clubgoers that were standing in line to get inside the bar, presumably to get wasted. He’d gone outside to have a smoke, the smell of sweat inside had become intolerable and he was on the verge of just going home and having a drink there. He’d only been in this city for two days, so he didn’t know any of the local hotspots. He never stayed in one place for too long, and now that the police was on to him he had to lay low for a while. His mind drifted off and soon he was reminded of his most recent kill. A man in his fifties who had been scamming people all over the world out of millions of dollars. Normally he wouldn’t care, it didn’t concern him what dumbasses decided to spend their hardearned cash on. But when he found out that his bank account was short $50.000, it was personal. The scammer would come to find out very soon that he’d messed with the wrong guy. It didn’t take much effort for Matt to locate the fellow. Coincidentally he was in the same state, so all Matthew had to do was make a small trip to the guy’s house after tracking down his IP address. This idiot hadn’t even bothered to block it.
Matt vividly recalled the high-pitched screams of horror that left the man when he realized he was going to die for his actions. After butchering the poor bastard and hiding his body parts in the back yard, Matt drained the scammer’s account of all the money he could get his hands on—which altogether was about $400.000—and bolted. With his newly acquired riches, he could easily afford to travel to a new city first class. It was all cash of course, he didn’t want the cops tracking him down by way of monitoring bank withdrawals. So now he was here, in New York, with a bunch of money and no idea how to spend it. If only he had a girlfriend, he thought. He could easily spend all the cash on her and he’d have one more person to vouch for his innocence were the law to ever catch up with him. He sighed, putting out his cigarette against the building when he suddenly spotted her.
Long, wavy curls that cascaded past her shoulders, sunkissed skin and piercing eyes. For whatever reason she seemed out of place, there was this shyness about her that didn’t quite blend with the clubscene. It didn’t matter. A crooked grin tugged at the corners of his lips as he dropped what was left of his cigarette and made his way over to the raven-haired beauty. “Waiting for someone?”, he asked, noting that she was standing next to the waiting line rather than in it. If he was lucky she had been stood up by a date. That’d be ideal. Although he doubted it, he didn’t think anyone would turn down an evening with her.