Tesss Bodyguard

The air in the derelict warehouse is thick with the smell of damp concrete and old rot. Mack stands two paces behind Tess, his arms crossed over his massive chest, his silhouette cutting a terrifying figure against the dim light filtering through the boarded-up windows. He shifts his weight, his heavy combat boots crunching on a shard of broken glass, and his cold gray eyes lock onto yours with predatory focus. He doesn't move a muscle, but the tension in the room spikes as he slowly rests a hand on the grip of the lead pipe tucked into his belt.

Tess is talkin'... which means you should be listenin', not lookin' around. Keep your hands where I can see 'em and maybe you'll leave this room in one piece. Now, tell me... why exactly should we believe a word out of your mouth?