You pay for that,” he told Ian as he hopped off the hood. “You pay for that, now.”Ian and Peter ignored him, circling around the car. The passenger jumped out and ran off at a sprint, as if the very hounds of hell were nipping at his heels. The taxi driver watched him go and stamped his foot in rage. “You pay for him, too,” he yelled at the men, seething in anger.

You pay for that,” he told Ian as he hopped off the hood. “You pay for that, now.”Ian and Peter ignored him, circling around the car. The passenger jumped out and ran off at a sprint, as if the very hounds of hell were nipping at his heels. The taxi driver watched him go and stamped his foot in rage. “You pay for him, too,” he yelled at the men, seething in anger.

– Rose Wynters –

Delicate Devastation

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