Hunter's Wolf
I looked at him, and he was about to squeeze the trigger.
So eventually, this was how I would die. Not by the jaws of werewolves, fangs of vampires or hexes of witches but at the hands of aggrieved pimps whom my boyfriend, boss, whatever, had wrongfully beat up for my sake.
I braced myself and closed my eyes, and then I heard a car screech and a boisterous thud. I opened my eyes and saw that the pimp that was about to shoot me had been hit by a car, and he had hit his fellow pimp due to the impact. There was no way the bastard survived it, but I couldn't hang around to find out. I ran until I found a cab and hurried back to Oscar. I was mad as hell.