All the warmth drained from Ashe in an instant, sending a spike of ice down her spine. Her blood now ran as cool as the gun pressed against her neck. A crushing grip wrapped around her arm, burning her skin as he jerked her deeper into the grungy alley between the pristine storefronts. Realization settled in that she wasn't just being robbed, they were actively abducting her. She wasn't sure why she was being abducted, but she didn't need to know.

She knew the statistics.

Ashe needed to get away before things got too far along. If they noticed what was between her legs, she was a dead girl regardless of how things played out.

The gun was pressed against her neck, which limited her options, but that didn't mean she had to make it easy on them. Ashe let her foot catch on the first thing she could and tripped, falling forward as she did. The man kept a firm hand on her, keeping from tumbling to the ground, but also threw off his balance.

He pulled the gun away while he adjusted his stance to steady himself.

Ashe didn't care about the reason, the opportunity was the important part. She squared her feet, spreading them into a wide stance as she caught herself. Her assailant was off balance when she grabbed his arm, and momentum shifted with her as she drew herself forward and threw the man to the ground.

She wasn't surprised to see his face covered in a mask and sunglasses, blocking out most of his features. His hand was still on the gun, but she didn't want to risk an attempt to disarm him. Instead she bolted into a full sprint, deeper into the alley but away from her attacker. She ran, looking for an exit but kept finding the paths blocked by fences, likely an attempt to prevent the homeless from setting up shop.

She wanted to curse everyone who thought that was a good idea, as pounding footsteps and descriptive curses behind her signaled the man was in hot pursuit. At least he wasn't taking potshots, but it wouldn't do them any good if she was killed. That was the only advantage she had in this situation, it defeated the purpose at present to kill her.

Running was something she was good at, the almost dark amusement that she couldn't join the track team bubbled up in the back of her mind as she pulled a trashcan over, hoping to stall her assailant enough to get away. Ashe wasn't keeping the best track, but she had to have run over a block, maybe two, before she found a path not blocked off by a shut gate.

She didn't hesitate, ducking into the opening, the taste of freedom and safely just there, teasing her, only for it to be snatched away. A van was backed in, blocking the exit, while two other masked men were sitting there; waiting. They looked up at her skidding to a stop, not that she could see anything through their cowardly masks, but it was hard not to recognize the crosses stitched into their clothing.

Iron Patriots.

"Well, looks like Jack cocked it up," one of them said, tossing a cigarette aside.

Ashe started to back away but one of them drew his gun and leveled it at her. "None of that missy. You're staying right there."

Ashe slowly put her hands up, grimacing as the asshole that grabbed her, Jack apparently, came stumbling around the corner. He was gasping for air, and she knew that she could have escaped if she had just kept running. This one wrong turn had cost her more dearly than any mistake she had ever made.

"Fucking… Bitch," Jack huffed, hands on his knees.

Ashe didn't take her eyes off the gun aimed at her, but she was tempted to try and leverage the man panting just feet away into another escape attempt. The only thing that stopped her was the coldness of the man's eyes as he held his hand perfectly steady. He was a killer, and wouldn't hesitate to put a bullet in her if things went pear shaped.

The fascist not holding a gun stepped forward, careful to not put himself between her and his buddy as he approached. She didn't dare look away from the gunman, knowing full well that he controlled the situation. Once again her arm was grabbed forcefully, the no doubt forming bruises only growing worse as she was pulled along.

"She's not our usual fare," the third man said as he marched her forward. "You sure the heat is worth it?"

"She's a social outcast according to our sources," the gunman said. "They'll do the usual missing persons song and dance and that will be the end of it, Daniel."

"Better be right," Jack grumbled. "She's already too much trouble."

The man pulling her along forced her to stop a dozen feet from the others when he cupped her ass and pulled her phone from her pocket, tossing it aside. Ashe bit her lip, fighting down tears as he forcefully ran his hands down her legs, spreading them as he did. At first she thought she was just going to be molested, but then it became clear she was being searched and a new dread began to well up within her.

He was being rough about it, meticulous, obviously taking some sick enjoyment from the process as he moved from her thighs up to her shoulders where he ripped her backpack away and tossed it behind her to Jack who caught it with a huff and began to rifle through it. He'd gotten closer, but not so close that she could do anything even if she didn't have a gun aimed at her.

She almost allowed some hope that she wouldn't be felt up until he groped her chest. She winced in pain, recoiled at the sensation and felt bile rise in her throat as he moved his hand down slowly. His hand ran along her stomach, lifting her shirt up so he could feel her skin. Ashe's lip quivered as she fought down every urge to hit the man, tears streaming down her cheeks as she did. He then felt along her belt loop belt loop, not that she was armed in any way, but she knew what was coming next.

Then he grabbed hold of her crotch, and she could see the moment when he felt what was down there. Ashe knew she needed to act, to do something otherwise she was about to die, probably slowly, screaming in agony as they tortured her to death. If she was going to die anyway, there was no point in not fighting back, she had nothing left to lose that wasn't already on the table.

He paused in his groping for a moment, then squeezed tighter as if to confirm what was down there, Ashe winced, because even with her medications, that still hurt. Slowly, he looked up at her, eyes hidden behind reflective shades.

"You have a—"

Ashe's fist lashed out, smashing into his nose and sent him crashing into the concrete. Pain blossomed across her hand but she couldn't concern herself with that just yet. The crack of gunfire was familiar, and she knew she was likely too high on adrenaline to have felt the bullet impact her.

The gunman was too far away, but Jack was closer, and he had a gun of his own. If she could get to him, she might just be able to survive the day. She'd barely started to turn when a second shot rang out and a spray of pink mist burst in the corner of her vision.

The gunman slumped, the van behind him splattered crimson. Jack too had stopped, still half a dozen feet away from her, her backpack at his feet and his hand halfway to drawing his own gun from where he had stashed it on his belt. Ashe stepped aside slowly, keeping away from Jack and the guy she'd punched, partly to get out of the potential line of fire, but also to get a look at whoever had stepped in to help.

Blue hair and hard eyes greeted her as the woman from the bookstore stood there, the barrel of her gun smoking and held at the ready, watching. There was no surprise or mercy in those green eyes, just a hardened look that was begging someone else to fuck around so they could find out.

Ashe felt a chill run down her spine at the sight.

A man had just died right in front of her, yet all she could think of was how breathtaking her avenging angel looked in that moment. Those green eyes flicked over to her for a moment, then back to Jack who had his hand behind his back.

"Give me a fucking reason," she said coldly.

Jack swallowed, then dropped his gun and kicked it away.

Ashe grimaced when her rescuer kept her weapon raised, seemingly uncaring that he was surrendering. That first kill was justified, but if this woman wasn't careful, another would be considered an execution. She approached Jack slowly, as he was the only one upright. The woman barely glanced at the man on the ground, then at Ashe and raised an eyebrow.

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"You good to handle that one?" the blue haired girl asked.

Ashe looked back to the woman and she nodded. The man was still on the ground, but kneeling, one hand trying to stop his gusher of a bloody nose. That alone sent a thrill of satisfaction through Ashe while she tried to figure out the best way to approach. He looked up, his eyes filled with loathing, and he pulled a knife.

Ashe barely had an instant to react, one hand snapped out to catch the man's arm. She managed it, but the knife trailed along her arm in the process. Her left hand caught his elbow and the swiveled, driving him back to the ground while pulling the knife to her hip.

She took a steadying breath, her arm burning from where she had been cut, then grabbed the man's arm and followed muscle memory from what her mom drilled into her. He resisted, but she still used her leverage on him to get him onto his stomach and pin his arm behind his back, her knee buried into his shoulder to keep him down.

Ashe struggled to pry his grip from the blade, his grip far stronger than she expected and her right hand was a bit numb. He bucked and struggled and when he almost managed to rip his arm free, she answered by giving his pinned arm a sharp twist that was followed by a dull crack.

He cried out in pain, but she didn't care if it was a bit excessive at this point, the knife fell limp in his hand and she knocked it away, the blade clattering against the concrete as she did. Only once he was disarmed and she was certain she had control of the man did she allow herself to take stock of everything. She was nearly hyperventilating, her heart jack-hammered in her ears and her vision was darkening.

Then the pain fully registered and she looked at her left arm and the blood dripping from it. A wound near her shoulder was the source, fairly deep and wide and distantly it occurred to her that she had been shot when that first bullet was fired by the gunman, who was now dead.

The woman who had stepped in was watching her with amusement at how the man was pinned. Jack was already subdued, a leather belt used to practically hogtie the bastard. Ashe didn't miss that the woman was making no efforts to contact the police at this point, which should have concerned her more than it had. The woman returned her firearm to a shoulder holster hidden by her jacket and stepped up to the man Ashe had just subdued, and kicked him square in the dick.

Served him right for groping her like that.

"Not bad for a damsel needing rescued," the woman said. "You good there?"

Ashe huffed, knowing that she was anything but good at the moment. "I'd be better if I had something to restrain this prick with."

"Fresh out of belts, unfortunately. Given what it looked like they were trying, I don't blame you," the woman shrugged, walking over to the van. Then, she whistled. "What dumbass has bricks of coke in their pedo-van?" She shook her head then rummaged around further. "Let's see, yup, duck-tape. That good enough?"

The man under Ashe tried to push himself up, or to roll, she wasn't quite sure, so she put weight on her knee and let it dig deeper into his back. He grunted in pain, but continued to struggle. She put pressure on his busted arm, but he just struggled harder until the woman pressed her gun to his head.

"Naughty, naughty." The woman cooed at him. "No more being a bad boy or I'll treat you to the same gift I gave your friend over there."

He stilled, then deflated, all the fight having fled him. The woman was squating beside him almost casually, and wouldn't be too hard to knock over, but the threat of invasive lead to one's cranial cavity tended to be convincing.

Ashe struggled to reach for his free arm, her own strength almost completely spent, and brought it to join the other arm and held them down. Her hands were trembling, the flux of adrenaline having fled, leaving her feeling strung out, or she was getting a contact high from something the assholes had on their clothes.

The woman chuffed, then the sound of tape being stretched out filled the air and she knelt down beside her and moved to secure his arms. Tape was wound thick around his wrists, then allowed to cover his thumbs before the woman bit at the strip and severed it with her teeth. Finally, Ashe let herself fall back as the woman moved off, likely to reclaim her belt. Ashe took a moment to steady herself, taking deep breaths even as her arms trembled and her wounds throbbed.

Ashe tried to stand, but the world spun around her as she struggled to get her feet under herself, only for strong arms to grip her ever so gently, keeping her from tumbling back to the rough ground. She glanced up, green eyes looking back with none of the edge they'd carried just moments prior.

"Easy there, you're probably crashing after all that excitement," she said softly, helping her move away from the bound men. "Breathe. You're safe now."

Taking a seat on a broken pile of scrap metal that might have been a microwave once, Ashe struggled to resist the urge to curl in on herself. An old fast food cup from nearly a decade prior sat on the ground, oddly fascinating to her rattled mind.

"Would you like something to take the edge off?" the woman asked. Ashe looked up to see an offered blunt. "It might help you calm down."

"Never tried it before," she answered almost hesitantly. "Thanks though, you saved my life there."

The woman chuckled awkwardly, running a hand through her blue hair, Ashe couldn't help but notice how it was shaved on the side. "Don't mention it." She glanced aside and began walking over to where Ashe's phone had been tossed. She reached down, picking up the phone then grimaced. "Your phone's screen is busted, but it looks functional otherwise."

Absently, Ashe accepted the phone, looking at the spiderweb cracks across the screen. She huffed, then pulled the glass screen protector off, revealing a pristine screen underneath. The woman blinked, then chuckled, shaking her head as she did.

"I deal with too many bullies at school to not have one," Ashe said, staring off at the slumped body for a moment. "I need to call this in. Actually, I'm amazed we don't hear sirens already given the gunshots."

"You don't spend much time out and about, do you?" the woman asked. At Ashe's answering frown, the woman continued. "See, nine times out of ten, a gunshot means one of the Patriot assholes are involved, and given half of them moonlight as cops, they tend to avoid investigating anything that could lead to arresting their own."

Ashe wanted to argue, but she'd overheard her parents one too many times to be able to offer a proper rebuttal. Looking at the woman, Ashe was surprised by how unbothered she seemed given she had gunned a man down just minutes prior, almost as if this was just another day to her.

Swallowing heavily, Ashe looked away. "They said something about being different from their usual targets. Does that mean someone put them up to it?"

"You are a bit too white for them to pick at random," she answered with a slow nod. "Any idea who might have set you up?"

"A few," Ashe said, three laughing girls coming to mind, and the looming quarterback watching on as they wished her 'safe travels' not even an hour earlier.

"Not that it matters now," the woman said, gesturing to the men on the ground. "Tweedle-dee is dead and the tweedle-dumbasses aren't up for much after the beatings we gave them." The woman winked at her and Ashe found her face suddenly very warm. "You can bet they'll sell out whoever it was to their minders and that problem will sort itself out. Damn good show by the way, it's always a pleasure to watch a girl that knows what she's doing."

"Ugh… You're welcome…"

"Crystal," She said with a smile.

"Ashe," she answered in kind. "So, what now—"

"Holy shit, your arm," Crystal exclaimed, apparently getting her first good look at the wound she had taken earlier. Ashe hadn't thought it that bad at first glance, or at least she hadn't when still dealing with her life being in danger, it seemed a small thing in comparison.

"Not that one," Crystal said, then pointed to Ashe's right wrist where a much larger gash was still bleeding even as Crystal dug into her pack for something. "Okay, you call 911, I'll see what I can do about it."