"WHAT IN THE GOOD God's graces is this?" A man asked, staring down at me with beady eyes. He was paused in front of a doorway, one of his eyelids half open and half shut as he stared.

He sighed. "Cedro, say hello to our new solider."

"She looks like a whore."

My head snapped up and I saw red. I lunged at him, head butting into him quickly while bringing my knee up to his balls.

"Goddamnit," my captor sighed, leaning forward to grab me as the man yelled out in a drunken rage. My teeth dug into this Cedro's shoulder and it took my captor and his buddies to get me off.

"Don't you ever call me a whore, you bastard," I yelled, struggling against the grip of my captors as I glared. "You're a drunk nobody who probably fucks adult dolls!"

His beady eyes flashed and he raised his hand, but the man who had tackled me caught it. "No. You don't hit women, Cedro. We might be low, but we aren't that low. Get out of here before I pull my gun out and shoot you in the head."

Cedro scowled, but when he saw the blonde reach toward his waistband he grumbled and shoved past us. He looked back at me, licking his lips. "Watch your back, kitten."

I cringed at the nickname, resisting the urge to break away and punch his nose.

"C'mon," he muttered, edging me to my feet again. They led me into the large, spacious training room. It was filled to the brim with everything from punching bags, treadmills, and muscle weights. It was as though someone had taken an entire gym and placed it right in this large room.

Goddamn. Are they preparing for Armageddon? The apocalypse?

"Madora Brooks."

There she was, her head snapping up and her icy gaze crossing over to me as they narrowed at me and the men. Her blonde hair was up in a ponytail, some strands hanging out from it.

Good God, everything about her made my knees weak. Danger radiated off of her so strong, I could feel it from here.

Holy shit.

She was as beautiful as the day I first saw her. I swallowed as I was forced to my knees, wincing as pain went through them and shot up my legs. "Watch it," I snarled, glancing back angrily.

"What is this?" she asked, her voice as sharp as knives. "Why is she here?"

"She's the payment of the Brookes'," he said, wrapping his hand around the back of my neck. His nails dug right into my skin, making me wince and let out a soft gasp.

Madora had caught this, and she paused on the treadmill, her eyes flashing. She edged forward and itched her fingers near her waistband. "Let go of the damn girl, Mordecai," she snapped.

A loud laugh left my lips and I haunched over. "W—wait." I would hold my hand up if it weren't tied behind my back. Mordecai released me and glowered down at me. "Le—let me get this straight," I choked out, "Your name ... your name is Mordecai?"

Madora raised one of her eyebrows at me. If I weren't busy crying myself into an oblivion from laughter, I would have taken time to appreciate the gesture. The angry wave she radiated seemed to dim slightly as she watched me, almost amused. 

Mordecai, however, wasn't as humorous. He curled his lip at me and shoved me down, his hand on my shoulder blades. "Shut the fuck up."

My laughter cut off as my chest slammed into the cold floor, instantly crushing my lungs and taking my breath right out of my throat. I gasped and took a second to adjust, trying to catch my breath.

Madora's amusement faded and I heard her move forward. "Mordecai watch yourself."

I drank in enough air to add in sarcastically, "Yeah, Mordecai, watch yourself." I raised my head, causing a strain of pain in my neck and I smirked at Madora. "I don't really blame him. It must be painful to have a name like that."

I don't know when to shut my mouth, I really don't. I have gotten into trouble with teachers, parents, and even therapists over my barbed tongue. I had a tendency to rebel against what I did not like or agree with, and I also used sarcasm and painful humor as a defense mechanism.

It didn't help me this time. I saw the shoe fly toward me, and felt the impact of it on the side of my head. Waves of dull, blistering pain shot through my skull so powerful I wanted to vomit. My head snapped to the side and I opened my mouth to let out a silent scream of agony.

The next two kicks were sent to my ribs, a flaming round of pain following.

And then I heard a gunshot. My head snapped up and I saw Madora standing there, smoke wavering out of the gun in her hands. I turned my head slightly, my blurry vision clearing to see Mordecai standing there with a bullet wound in his chest.

He fell to the floor quickly, blood dripping out from the wound. I wanted to scream, fear rushing through me like a river washing upshore.

She approached me, her ponytail waving behind her like an ax being swung at enemies. Her blue eyes were colder than ice now, and she bent down, sticking the gun back into the waistband of her pants and bending over me.

Oh sweet Jesus this is where I die. I tried, weakly, to wriggle away, to get some sort of fight in before my death. She made no sound as she applied gentle pressure on my back to keep me from moving. She seemed to know that it would not take much to stop me from going anywhere, as more pain inclined in my ribs, my head throbbed worse, and my stomach was prepared to vomit my Lucky Charms cereal.

"Don't kill me," I whispered against the cold ground, but not knowing if the words reached the ruthless killer. She simply brought her hands to my tied arms and began undoing them. Once they were loose, she wrapped one of my limp arms around her neck, her other hand sliding gently over my back to my waist and hoisting me up.

"Lean against me," she said, her voice husky with no emotion. My knees bent as I allowed all my strength to go into helping her pull me up. "That's it."

Her fingers were warm against my aching ribs despite the coldness she revealed. I could feel her warm breath against my jaw as she handled my weight along with her own, nudging us towards the entrance to the training center.

"I'll help—" I whispered, though talking was not a good idea on my part. The air it took to speak pressed against my probably broken ribs, sending more pain cascading through my stomach and waist. My head felt like it was bashed in — and technically it had been — and my brain felt like it would explode inside my skull.

Everything was blurry, too, for the most part. My vision would clear in and out, and the lights seemed to glare down at me with so much intensity. It didn't help when she led us out of the training center, through the bright hallways. I had to shut them and trust my feet and Madora to help guide me through the seemingly long walkways.

"Move," her heavy voice snapped. I peeled my eyes open to see two people dart away at the snarl she gave. She rushed us a bit faster, her breath breaking. "What hurts?"

Was she talking to me? I glanced at her, and though her eyes were staring straight ahead, I could tell the question was directed toward me.

"I ... my ribs and my head," I responded, flinching as the words caused more pain to erupt through my body. I had to force my hand against the wall next to us just so I wouldn't fall from her grasp. Her grip tightened around me.

"I won't let you fall down," Madora said, gently tugging me from the wall and moving again. "Describe what you're feeling to me."

"Pain."

"What kind of pain, princess?" Madora sighed, sounding irked. "Come on, you need to tell me so I can tell the medic."

"My head feels like it'll burst," I admitted, focusing my eyes on the floor as we walked. "I'm dizzy, and I feel nauseous, and my ribs feel crushed in. It hurts when I talk."

Madora was silent, but she breathed out. This gave me some sort of indication that she had acknowledged my words.

It felt like eternity by the time we arrived at a door, her hand scooping from around my waist and turning the knob to the door and shoving it open.

She led me to the doctor worthy bed and sat me down. The paper crinkled under me as I did, bending and tearing from the speed of the movement.

"Stay here," she said, then I blacked out.