It doesn't take much for Slade to get you pinned to the ground. One hand is twisted in your hair, shoving your cheek into the concrete below, and the other is twisting your arm painfully behind your back. He clicks his tongue, not even sounding out of breath.

"Does your daddy know you're running around by yourself?" He drawls, his smirk covered by the two toned mask on his face. For good measure, he tightens his grip on your arm. "At least Richard could put up a fight at your age."