The Game

He had his hat pulled down over his eyes, and his trench coat collar pulled up to his ears. The windy Chicago nights didn't sit well with him. Coming from the coastal area of Georgia, Victor Boxter was used to warm nights with crickets chirping in mid-April. He was here on a mission to find Jeanette Sinclair. He had just seen her come out of the club on 2nd and head towards her apartment on 16th. She was trying to catch a cab, but at this time of night no taxi would pick up someone who looked like she did right now. He slowly trailed her, hoping not to make himself known. As he finally caught up to her he saw her reach into her pocket for her pepper spray. Victor pulled his hat even further down to shield his eyes just in case she decided to spray. The rain began to fall, and she spoke. He could see the fear in her eyes, and he hoped to calm her down, but he had a cold and knew that his voice was probably pretty scary. The proposition spilled out of his mouth. She seemed quite interested. They shook hands, and she disappeared into her apartment. He couldn't help but smile, because Miss Sinclair had no idea about the trouble she had just gotten herself into.