The subway was his newest place to make some money.
Thousands of people pass through these tunnels everyday, no one would suspect him. Not once. After the robbery, he'd taken me to the other side of New York. To Manhattan. He'd been making more money here then anywhere else. I felt inhuman, sitting here, knowing what would happen within the next ten minutes. He'd rob every single person here. He'd kill them if they made a move to stop him, or screamed. Hell, he'd kill them if they looked at him the wrong way.
His hand still had mine in a death grip, and I continue to stare at every single person on this subway. Begging with my eyes. Help me. Help yourselves.
No one looked at me.
Not a single glance in my pathetic way. I wanted to cry, but I'd done that enough. Plus it pissed Michael off. It didn't really take much though, to anger him. He was so off balance, teetering on the edge of insanity and absolute calm. Always knocking me off balance with him. He was scary when he got that crazy violent look in his eyes When he was far beyond saniy. But I found he was much scarier when he was calm. When he was calm he got...well, deadly. Cold.
"Nicole," He says, under his breath. My spine straightens instantly, and I'm forced to look at him. He nods subtly towards the woman with the nice jewelry and expensive clothes. The one who looked incredibly sad. His nod meant I would have to go after her. Take her things, her belongings. Take that pretty ring off of her finger. Take her life. I felt a pang when I thought this. What if it meant something more than I could comprehend? God. I hated Michael so much. I hated myself too. I shouldn't do what he asks of me so easily, but I've been beaten so much I'm scared not to. I'm a coward. I fear for my own life more then I fear for others. I'm a bad person. I'm human.
I watch as he stands casually, like he was getting up to stretch, and my heart lodges in my throat. I want to choke on it. The older man glances at Michael, but then goes back to staring into space. I don't move. I don't want to move. Michael looks down at me, his eyes flashing. He leans down close to me. I stiffen.
"Get up." He growls. I don't move. In fact, I don't breathe. I suddenly can't move. I refuse to. My body is super glued to this seat, and I will not steal from that woman. I will not sit and watch her die. She's too sad. I can't do it. "Nicole." His voice had risen to more then a dangerous growl. It was a bark.
And it was enough that across the subway, at the very end, the boy with the skateboard looked up sharply. The man glanced up, and the woman blinked at us. The teenage girl let her red eyes rest on me. The waitress frowns at Michael, and the business men frown at each other in concern. They felt it now. The tension, the danger in the air. They felt it too late. I look at Michael, right in his black lifeless eyes.
"I won't." I murmur softly, just softly enough that he hears it. I know this choice will end my life. Or worse, maybe it won't. But I wouldn't worry about me anymore, I decided. I'm not even a person. His eyes get darker, which is always the warning. His jaw locks and he leans down towards me. His breath his angry hot. I don't cower back like I used to. I just stare straight ahead, not looking at him.
"I'm going to kill you." His words are chilling, full of promise. My eyes lock with his again.
"I don't care," I say back, my voice emotionless. Final. I see his patience snap in half, his anger releasing. I already know what he's going to do. I've been playing this game for months. He pulls up his shirt, revealing the gun in his waistband. Taking it out swiftly, he points it directly in my face. The woman with the little girl screams, and grabs her child. The sad lady gasps, her face going pale. The business men cuss and look at each other with wide eyes. Fear. They all react the same.
