Angie pressed her back against the beaten up wall of the house. Even through her winter jacket, she could feel the biting cold. She tightened her hold on the handle of the pistol. It felt rough, the weapon too big for her, but she'd just have to make do.

Sam and Tom immediately followed, building a wall around her. She hated it, but she knew she had no choice but to accept their protection. She had no bullet proof vest. In an attempt at bravery, Tom wanted to give her his, but it was too big and it would have made moving a burden. She'd just have to make do. Story of her life.

It took a mere few seconds for Mizrelle to join them, her brows drawn in a frown. She peeked around the corner, then gestured for them to join her. Angie pushed herself off the building and darted down the street, Sam and Tom flanking her.

Shots rang out around her, mingling with indiscernible swearing and panting. Yet, through all the mayhem, there were no sirens. No police or ambulances came to that side of town. Not on first call anyway. There was a part of Paris which was far from fabulous.

"What do you want this shithole for?" Tom said between his teeth as they reached the corner of the next house.

"Good protection money," Mizrelle answered, her tone too light for the situation. "People around here need protection."

Angie couldn't deny that. She shot at random, causing the rivaling gang to scatter out of the way.

"You're amazingly poor shots for people who ace target practice," Mizrelle deadpanned. Her shot hit one of the men in the leg and caused a flurry as his companions hurried to pull him away.

"Yes, because we dream of killing random people on the street," Sam said under his breath.

"Get off your high horse, Sammy boy," Mizrelle muttered.

They reached the safety of the next corner. The street before them was filled with scuffling bodies. Angie couldn't keep looking at the random people hurting each other over a shitty street. Over who got to extort other poor, helpless people. This wasn't right. And what hurt the most was the eerie silence that seemed to ring louder than any gunshot. Because between the swearing, the shooting, the thumping of fist into flesh, the lack of sirens was the loudest. This wasn't for them. They needed to get out of there.

"If you can't hit anyone, at least give me some cover," Mizrelle said.

"We can hit anyone, we just won't," Tom said, he too unacceptably calm. He had, after all, at one point considered embracing this life. He was the one who brought them there. "But we'll shoot all the air you want."

Angie didn't even want to shoot air, but it's not like she had much of a choice.

"Do you want me to think you've lost your nerve, darling?" Mizrelle grinned and Tom smiled back.

"Never!" he said. "But let's not force our luck. This is taking a bit longer than we expected."

"Fine then!" Mizrelle scoffed. "You lady-babies go ahead and run. I'll hold the fort down here."

Angie couldn't believe they were finally getting off. But Mizrelle launched herself around the corner and started shooting towards her opponents.

Tom grabbed Angie's hand and pulled her further along the street. Sam followed, walking backwards and shooting in the air, providing Mizrelle with much needed cover. The further they ran, the sounds of the gang fight faded, but the tragedy seemed forever ingrained in Angie's brain. She had no idea why this particular situation weighed so heavily on her. She'd been through a lot worse. Done a lot worse. She'd kidnapped a kid for Christ's sake.

Yet this, this silly street scuffle was getting to her in ways nothing had. Because now that she'd risen above her prior condition, she could finally see that the rest of the world hadn't joined her. And it made her sick that she hadn't looked behind once.

"Shit!"

Sam grabbed Tom's arm and yanked him back, pulling him behind the corner of the nearest house. Tom pulled her in turn and the three of them ended up huddled together with very little coverage. The house was weirdly narrow, but they'd escaped the seedy neighborhood and the architecture was a lot funkier on this side of town.

"Wha--?" Tom started, but Sam slapped his hand over his brother's mouth and made desperate shushing gestures.

Angie frowned, wondering what had gotten into Sam, when she heard them. Voices. Her entire body stiffened. English speaking voices. She could immediately feel Tom tensing next to her, pressing harder against her as if to protect her. She couldn't blame him. Despite hearing it months ago, she could recognize the voice. Cannon.

"...little guy broke the rules, s'all I'm saying," he said, his vicious voice drawing closer to them. "Why's the boss so stubborn about the whole thing?"

"We don't know for sure," another voice said. "I mean we never caught the two of them in the same place at same time."

"Please!" Cannon gave a snort. "Twiny's here for sure, so little Sam broke the rules. They should be skinning his girlfriend and throwing her out in the street for him to find."

Angie bit back a whimper as Tom's grip tightened against her arm.

"You know the boss won't do that," a third voice answered, wavering slightly. "Anyways, the whole group is in France now. The rules don't matter anymore."

"They do to me," Cannon spit out. "If I catch that little rat--"

There was a second of silence that seemed to last forever.

"Actually, don't care that much if I catch him," Cannon said, his voice neutral." He's no fun. A quick bullet through the head and be done with it. But if I caught his twin..."

The goons stopped right at the corner of the house. Angie's entire body trembled and she couldn't believe how afraid she was. From their conversation and the sound of their footsteps, there were just three of them. They weren't even outnumbered. But Cannon gave her the creeps.

"Hey, what are you--"

Damn Mozarella decided to join the party. Sam immediately shushed her and pulled her to huddle with them, keeping her out of sight. She seemed confused, but they all must've looked terrified because she didn't comment.

"Don't look at me like that man, you're scaring me," one of the goons said.

"Now, if I caught his twin..." Cannon said again, his voice now dripping sick satisfaction.

"Yeah, yeah, we know. You'd love killing him," the other man said in an obvious attempt to end the conversation. "Can we drop this now?"

"Kill him?" Cannon sounded insulted. "I wouldn't kill him. I'd make him watch while I skin his little girlfriend."

Tom made a sudden movement, but Sam grabbed him before he could dart around the house and throttle Cannon. Angie wrapped her arms around his waist and pulled him back, too. There was no way she was letting him go out there while Cannon was talking about torturing him.

"The sense of purpose I felt during his torture in that blasted desert..." Cannon sighed. "Enlightening."

"Knock it off, man, we've just eaten," one of the men said.

"Grow some balls!" Cannon snapped, but the sound of footsteps joined his reprimand and the men continued their way down the street.

From their position, Angie could see their retreating backs. They had to get out of Paris, as far away from that nutjob as possible. She finally loosened her grip on Tom once he stopped struggling.

"That asshole's dead," Tom said. "If I ever get my hands on him, he's dead, conscience be damned." He turned away from them and kicked the wall of the house. "Why didn't you let me get him?" he snapped all of a sudden, turning to them.

"Gee, I don't know," Sam said, his tone filled with angry sarcasm. " Maybe because there were three of them and one of you? I understand you're upset..."

"Upset? Upset? I'm not upset, I'm fucking furious! That monster is a constant thorn in my side and I'll have to pull him out. Permanently. I won't have him chasing Angie!"

"Tom, calm down. He won't come anywhere near me," Angie said soothingly, patting his arm and he seemed to calm down a little.

"You can bet your sweet ass he won't," Tom mumbled. "I won't let him."

"I think we should go," Sam said. "I can see some other men heading for us and I bet they want to shoot at us, too."

"Those are mine," Mizrelle muttered, already taking her guns out and pointing them at the new followers. "I never thought they'd be so many."

"We have no time for this." Sam waved his hand at another large group of men coming from the other side. "Bounty on your head or something, Mizrelle?"

"Obviously," she said with an eye-roll. "Not as big as yours apparently. Follow me, quickly!" She nodded to the right and rushed between two narrow houses.

They followed her and stopped in the shadow. Sam peeked his head around the corner, but pulled back almost instantly. "Damn it. Goons."

Angie chanced a quick look too. A whole bunch of Snitch Gravel's men were on the corner of the street, smoking and chatting.

"Considering they're on a coffee break, they probably patrol the streets," Sam said. "Why are they patrolling these streets?"

"Sacre Coeur is nearby," Mizrelle answered as if it mattered.

Sam nodded as if it did. "This is the best chance we've got. If they start walking, they could be more alert."

"Can't we just go around them?" Angie asked desperately.

"Goons," Sam said pointing to his right, "goons--" He pointed to his left, towards the smoking men. "-- rivaling street faction--" He pointed behind. "-- rivaling street faction." He pointed in front. "Escape vehicle." He pointed to the smoking men again.

Damn. He was right. Mizrelle had managed to procure them a car which made sure they wouldn't be chased down by the police for stealing one. Not being chased was very important, so if they wanted to escape any time soon, they had to risk it.

"Sam and I should rush out first and if nothing happens, follow us, Angie," Tom said. "If something does happen, shoot them in the back."

"No, Tom, that's not--" She stopped when he put his hand on her cheek.

"We're wearing vests, babe," he whispered. "You're not. We'll be fine. It's a slim chance they'll get us in the head." He pulled away and turned to Mizrelle. "You're not coming with us. I don't want you on my conscience if something happened. I've talked to the boys and they'll back you up in front of the council. Good luck."

Mizrelle didn't move. She just stared at Tom with big cow eyes, her lower lip, painted a dark shade of plum, trembling. "There's someone really big and powerful after you. You really are in danger," she said.

"Whoop tee do," Sam said under his breath, but she ignored him.

"I'm sorry I didn't take it seriously. Good luck to you, too. I think you'll need it more than me. And thanks. For everything."

Tom's frame relaxed and he gave her a small smile. She turned to Angie next, her gaze a lot more focused and less bovine. "You're alright. Just take care of him." The she turned to Sam. "So are you. You actually have a lot of untapped thug potential."

"That's great to hear," Sam said, still seeming pissed.

Mizrelle didn't care, she turned to Tom once again and looked at him longingly. "Goodbye and good luck, darling." And, just like that, she put her hand on the back of Tom's head, pulled him down and kissed him full on the mouth.

Angie froze. Sam froze. Tom froze, too, like an idiot. But it only lasted a second before Mizrelle pulled back and slithered away between two houses, out of Angie's reach and away from her fury. She clenched her fists and locked her jaw, glaring at Tom who still stood dumbstruck. At least he had the decency to look guilty, shocked, remorseful.

It did nothing to fix things. A sense of anger, hurt and betrayal battled inside her until she couldn't even look at him anymore.

"Angie," he whispered.

"Care to tell me what that was about, darling?" Her tone came out vicious, showing only a fraction of the turmoil inside her.

"Isn't it obvious?" Sam cut in, sounding annoyed. "Mizrelle had a crush on him. And since it's not like she'll ever see us again, she took a shot. What are you blaming Tom for? It's not like he did anything."

"Sam," Tom said quietly.

"Can we drop this please?" Sam insisted. "We have other things to do right now."

Angie gritted her teeth and nodded. The hurt inside her dimmed, but it didn't leave way to relief, just confusion. She couldn't pretend she hadn't felt Mizrelle had a thing for Tom, but she'd chosen to ignore it. And Sam was right. It wasn't Tom's fault. Hell, Angie couldn't blame Mizrelle for crushing on him. Just like she couldn't blame Geanyi when it happened in India. But it still hurt.

"Well, these guys smoke incredibly fast," Sam said, peeking around the corner."We should go."

Tom went next to him and crouched, preparing to sprint. Angie pulled herself out of her useless thoughts and joined them.

"Angie, wait until we reach the other side of the street. That way we can cover you if they notice." He didn't wait for her confirmation before he and Tom hurried across the street.

Angie watched them scurrying away, with no sounds coming from their left. They were almost there, just six feet from the safety of the dark alley across the street. Three feet. Two feet.

"Told you both of them were here!"

The voice made her stomach jump to her throat. It hadn't come from the smoking men, but from their right. Before she could so much as turn around, the sound of gunshots filled the air. Sam and Tom rolled on the ground and disappeared around the corner of the nearest house, out of sight.

She knew that she had to join them. They were apparently surrounded and there was no way she was getting captured again. She should run now, while everyone was looking in another direction. Sam and Tom had promised her cover fire.

With that thought in mind, she sprinted from her hiding place, trying to focus on the snow under her feet, not look and see how bad things were. Her pulse thundered in her ears, and she heard nothing. No shots, no yells, no running footsteps. Which was weird.

Despite her better judgement, her eyes rose from the ground and wandered to the right. The blood froze in her veins much more effectively than the water turning into icicles on the gutters. Cannon watched her, his malicious black eyes squinted with savage pleasure. The look on his face made it all too clear that he knew exactly who she was. The way the corners of his eye crinkled, how his thin lips rose to reveal his teeth.

Her foot caught something in the snow. Her boot caught on a slightly raised manhole lid and the following second her knees hit the ground. She reached her hands out right before her face could join them. Her entire body shook, sending her muscles into painful spasms. Any second, she expected the sound of a gunshot, pain. Death.

"Mine!" Cannon yelled, drawing his gun.

And at that moment, Angie shut her eyes. She didn't want that freak to be the last thing she ever saw. She'd rather die in darkness. And she was certain it was coming. Time had slowed down and she could hear everything around her perfectly. Cannon's footsteps, the crunching of snow under his boots, the distant yells of the other goons.

A separate set of footsteps killed the little peace she'd managed to instill on herself. She opened her eyes just as a pair of arms surrounded her, shielding her from the world. Tom was there, sunglasses raised on top of his head, smiling down at her, his teal eyes filled with tenderness. And at that moment, the peace returned. Because nothing could be that bad if he was smiling, looking at her like that.

Then there was the shot.

Tom's eyes widened and his grip on her tightened.

Then another shot.

His grip tightened again, then again as the third shot tore through the still air, the sound piercing her heart. His body convulsed with the impact of every bullet. By the fourth one, his grip slackened and his eyes closed. His entire weight fell on her, knocking her to the ground. More shots followed until, suddenly all stood quiet.

For a second, Angie felt like dying. But a wave of rage overwhelmed her, slapping the sense back into her. She pushed Tom to the side and glared straight at Cannon. He ran towards her, changing his ammo cartridge as he went, three other goons behind him. She took her gun out, pointed it at him and aimed.

She didn't get to fire. Sam came out from behind his cover and shot at him. Cannon ducked and threw himself in the snow. Then there was more shooting as Mizrelle came out from behind another corner, black stains on her cheeks from the mascara her tears had captured. Then there was Petit, and more boys from the fraternity, all of them shooting at Snitch Gravel's men. The goons scattered, running for covered.

Sam materialized by her side and grabbed Tom under the arms. "Move, Angie," he said between his teeth as he started hauling his twin to safety.

She got to her feet, gun pointed, adrenaline zooming through her veins. Mizrelle had it covered, all the goons around them had ducked for cover. Except one.

Cannon stood, leering at her, a mad twinkle in his eye. And she took the shot. The bullet sunk into the man's shoulder. His body twitched and fell over. He cursed, then threatened to kill her, then screamed some more.

"Come on, Angie!" Sam yelled.

For the blink of an eye, she contemplated running to Cannon, shooting him in the face. Finishing the job. But it only took a moment before she whipped around and sprinted after Sam. He'd already dragged Tom down a narrow street and was looking left and right, searching for cover.

Angie followed, kicking the snow around to hide their tracks. Sam finally stopped in front of a dingy-looking wooden door, released Tom, pulled back and kicked it open. It led into what seemed to have once been a dodgy bar. The dust surrounding them proved the place had been closed for some time. The windows were boarded up, so once she slammed the door behind them, darkness swallowed everything.

"I need light," Sam said.

Angie pawed at the wall next to the door, searching for a switch, her back pressed against the flimsy wood. The adrenaline still ran through her veins, but now it was accompanied by a bone chilling dread.

"How is he?" she asked, her voice trembling.

"How am I supposed to--" Sam stopped once he seemed to realize what she was actually asking. "He's alive."

Her hand hit the switch and the light turned on. Fitting since a sense of relief washed over her. Sam squinted, but focused on his twin, and started pulling his jacket off. The back was filled with holes. He pulled it off, and lifted Tom's hoodie, also filled with holes. But Angie noticed there was no blood, and that could only be a good sign. The vest came into view and two bullets fell to the dusty floor.

"Thank God!" Angie breathed as Sam started inspecting the vest.

"They don't seem to have gotten through." He shook his head and let out a low whistle. "Though he won't like it when he wakes up. I know how painful it is to get shot, even with that thing on. And he got shot eight times." He ran his fingers on the vest, then went for the side straps and opened it.

Angie watched as Sam carefully removed the vest and lifted Tom's t-shirt. She gasped and almost choked. His back was a red and purple mess which stood out eerily over his scars. Some of the wounds looked like cigarette burns. Acid burned its way up her throat.

Sam kept staring at his brother's back, his mouth twisting into a snarl, but he didn't comment. Instead, he leaned over him and ran his fingers around his sides as if searching for something. "I think one of his ribs might be broken," he whispered.

Angie's stomach tightened into a painful knot. She'd been so happy he was alive, she hadn't even thought of the implications. Internal bleeding, organ rupture, broken bones...

"At least his abdomen is not bloated," Sam continued, his voice a little louder, then turned to her. "What the hell was that?"

She jumped. "What?"

"You froze out there. Like a damn deer in the headlights. What happened?"

She bit her lip so hard the copper taste of blood filled her mouth. Sam was totally right. She'd frozen like an idiot when Cannon showed up. Instead of taking her gun out and shooting at him, or even running away, she'd just shut her eyes and accepted what she'd taken to be the inevitable. Now Tom was hurt because of her.

"I'm so sorry."

"It wasn't a reproach, Angie. Just maybe a reminder that you're much better than this."

She licked the blood off her lips, trying to see it like that, but she couldn't. "I can't believe he did this for me." That was such an understatement. "What if Cannon would've shot him in the head?"

"He wouldn't have. Didn't you hear him? He has other plans for Tom. I'm the one he would've shot in the head," Sam said.

"I just... Gah, I can't believe he just jumped in front of me like that."

"I jumped in front of you, too..." Sam mumbled, barely audible.

Angie gritted her teeth, feeling even more like a helpless damsel. She'd gotten too comfortable with her posh school, own place and belly always full. "I know you did. And I feel horrible. I'm nothing but trouble for both of you."

"No, Angie." Sam sounded incredibly tired. Probably tired of her pity party. "We did it because we love you." He froze, his eyes widening at his own words. "Well, I mean... Tom mostly."

He seemed embarrassed, but she understood because she felt the same way about him. "Tom doesn't love me more than you do, Sam. It's just a whole other type of love."

Sam nodded, his focus back on Tom. "We should get out of here. I'm not sure they're not going to find us. Stay with Tom. I'll go get the car." Without waiting for an answer, he got to his feet and headed to the door. He lingered in the threshold, making sure the coast was clear, then he was off, closing the door behind him.

Angie fought the fear being alone brought. But as she looked at Tom, her heart swelled and she felt like crying again. Why did he always have to be such a hero? Because that's how he showed he loved her. He didn't say it, but she knew.

First her biology teacher, then the poisoned dart Cannon fired at her, and now... She squeezed his hand and shut her eyes. She really needed to stop being a damsel. She'd never done one silly little thing to protect him, to save him.

Kay had taken a bullet for Kyle, Jessie had saved Jimmy from drowning... She'd just stood there and forced him to learn how to swim to get her out of water. Clumsy Angie always falling, always getting in the way of danger like an idiot. He'd even saved her when he had amnesia and had no idea that he could.

"I'm doing my best, I swear," she said to him. "I'm not being useless on purpose. I just really like that you're there for me."

Deep in her heart she hoped that he liked that she was there for him, too. And that it was enough.

❄❄❄

What is this? A wild update? Yes, it is here! And I hope the length and content is satisfying. Time for some action, right?

Was it exciting? Intriguing? Do you think Tom's going to be okay after all?

Also, how do you feel about Angie. I feel like she's just so... human in this chapter. But she does need to get a grip.

Here's to hoping for more updates soon.