[William, this is not the time!]
Anthony couldn’t believe his mate.
He growled warningly at the two weasels as they shared a look, practically confessing that one or the other was Mitch, or that they knew at least knew who he was.
“This is the last time I’m saying it, dude,” the non-alcohol stinking one spoke roughly, but the air of desperation was about him as his eyes kept looking around for witnesses. “Hand over your wallet.”
The other whispered harshly to him, “Come on, man, let’s just go!” Clearly things hadn’t gone down as they had planned.
But the taller one stayed firm, continuing to brandish his knife at William and shortening his lifespan by the second.
One wrong move. I just need one wrong move and your throat is mine.
Anthony lowered himself, snarling, preparing to lea
