Reagan's POV

As I'm pushed towards the fighting rink, I feel as though I've been condemned. Much like a criminal marching to the noose, knowing what's going to happen but unwilling to accept it. Eyeing some of the guys I pass, my bravery slowly withers away into nothing. The men leer at me and I get a glimpse at poor teeth and greasy hair. Despite their different features, all the men look as though they're willing to kill to get what they want.

In this case it's money...and me.

Well shit.

No way in hell can I afford to lose this.

Before I can object, I'm grabbed roughly around the waist and practically thrown into the rink. I immediately rush to the center and hope no one has the indecency to attack me from behind.

Indecency?

I'm in a room full of criminals!

What the hell am I expecting?

A tea party!

The platform that the rink is created on is high enough that I am able to see over the horde of men and my gaze flits over everyone, praying for a friendly face.

My attention is suddenly torn from my desperate search, as a cheer goes through the crowd. A large man pulls himself up on the opposite side of the platform, getting to his feet with his arms raised, riling up the crowd.

As if already tasting victory.

I gulp. Calling this guy a linebacker would be an understatement. Receiving a smirk in response to my scrutiny, I bare my teeth at him showing I'm not impressed.

The man who originally sentenced me to this fate appears at the edge of the platform and takes a seat on a folding chair. He crosses his legs and settles back, looking smug as though he's about to enjoy what's going to happen.

A sadistic leader. Just what I need, I think sarcastically.

Mr.Sadist is the one calling the shots here and I can't trust him to make good on his promise to let me go. Looks like back to Plan A. Run like hell and hope I don't get shot in the process.

But I can't die yet! I haven't finished watching the next season of my favorite TV show! Okay. Humor isn't exactly the best response to this situation, snap out of it Reagan!

My eyes wander around the large room in search of Ace. The only friendly, okay that was pushing it, non hostile face in the room. When I can't find him I come to the very depressing conclusion that he's probably left me to rest in pieces in the grave I've dug for myself.

Well, jokes on him, I'm going to haunt his ass for the rest of his days.

The giant who has joined me on the platform cracks his knuckles and I wince slightly at the sound. Taking in my reaction, the guy proceeds to crack his neck while grinning at me, the grin morphing his scarred, ugly face into something terrifying. Someone shouts from the crowd, their voice aimed at the giant. "Get on with it already! What're ya scared of hurting a little girl now!"

My head snaps towards the direction of the shout and before abruptly turning back towards my opponent. He's already barreling towards me, spurred on by the shout.

My speed saves me as I throw myself to one side, out of the way. The man flies past and taking advantage of his position, I plant a foot on the small of his back and kick. He goes sailing over the ropes of the platform, crashing onto the ground in an ungraceful heap.

There's a shocked silence as he scrambles slowly to his feet. Furious, he begins to stalk back towards me but is stopped by a voice.

"You've had your turn. Next." Mr.Sadist declares and he looks amused. I don't doubt that he's chalked up my "win" of this round to beginner's luck.

The man who's next is different from the giant. This man is lithe and wiry thin, but there's a layer of muscle wrapped over his skin and I have no doubt that he's as strong as the giant. There's a cunning look in his eyes and I realize that he has brains and won't be as rash as the other man.

My arms hanging loosely by my sides and I'm wary as the man sizes me up. He grins before crossing his arms and leaning against the thick ropes caging in the rink. There's silence and he runs a hand through his dark red hair.

"Well! Get on with it Maddox!"

Neither of us move at the shout and I clench my hands into fists prepared for any sudden movements. The silence draws longer until I'm suddenly shoved from behind by a rough hand. Stumbling, I fall to my knees, my hands flung out in front of me to stop a complete fall.

Too late I realize what I've done as I'm kicked in the side and pain flares in my ribs. The kick sends me flying onto my back and the oxygen is knocked from my lungs. The guy, Maddox, has kicked me hard enough that I know my ribs will bruise by tomorrow.

If I make it to tomorrow.

A cheer has risen through the crowd by now and Maddox smiles, confident but not overly. He isn't going to make a simple mistake. Staying on the ground, I shift onto my side and feel a sharp twinge of pain radiate from my ribs. Continuing to lie on the ground, I wince trying to appear defeated, which isn't hard to do. The vibrations of the crowd's roar now thumps through my body.

Getting slowly to my feet, I clutch my ribs plastering a pained expression on my face. Maddox smirks and I can now see a hint of arrogance in his demeanor.

Good.

Stepping forward, I throw a weak punch and he dodges easily. Laughing, his emerald eyes gleam with amusement and disbelief.

"This is supposed to be a fight!" He chuckles and shoves me hard enough that I stumble and fall to my knees, clutching my now throbbing ribs.

I let out a cry of pain, which isn't entirely fake. Maddox seems satisfied and finally he makes his mistake.

He turns his back on me.

Letting go of my ribs, I jump to my feet and am moving before anyone can process what's happening. Kicking the back of Maddox's knee, his long legs buckle under him and he lets out a surprised grunt of pain. Immediately I follow up with lighting fast punches to the back of his head. He falls forward and I kick him in the side, sending him careening over the edge of the platform.

Breathing heavily, my eyes widen as another man jumps up onto the stage, already rushing me. I have no time to jump out of the way as he barrels into me, knocking me to the ground. I try to twist my body so that the man who has attacked me absorbs the brunt of the fall. Even with the shift, I still feel the impact and let out a cry of pain as I land on my bruised ribs.

The man slams me into the ground and climbs on top of me. One of his large hands wraps around my neck and suddenly I can't breath. My arms flail and the man catches them in his other free hand, holding them over my head. He shifts and my legs are freed momentarily.

My knee comes up hitting him in the groin and he bellows in pain. He falls to the side and his grip on my throat and arms slacken. Bucking, I manage to wriggle out completely from under him, freeing myself in the process. Scrambling away, my left ankle is caught in the man's iron hold before I can fully escape.

I'm finally able to get a good look at the man who has so determinedly attacked me. Short black hair, jet black eyes, and a long puckered scar running down the right side of his face. A jolt of recognition shoots through me at the sight of his face, but before I can dwell on this I'm being dragged towards him by my ankle.

Kicking out my other foot, it catches him in the face but his grip around my ankle doesn't loosen. Panic begins to claw up my chest as the man grips my entire left leg with both of his hands and yanks me towards him, a sadistic grin overtaking his face. A moment of calm breaks through my panic as I recall the knife shoved in my boot. Lunging towards my boot, my hand grasps the slightly warmed hilt of the knife. I pull it out and slash out at the hand that has me held hostage.

A roar of pain erupts from the man and my leg is abruptly freed.

Clambering as far as I can from the man, I watch wide eyed as he clutches the spot on his arm where I've opened up a deep cut. Blood runs down his arm and seeps through his fingers which are held over the cut. The man looks at me and my chest heaves as I begin to tremble.

My knuckles go white as I clutch the knife tighter in my fist, while getting to my feet, legs shaking. My ears are now drowning in the screams from the crowd and I see the sick excitement in everyone.

"You bitch! You're dead!" The man shouts and he lumbers towards me. Chaos breaks out and dashing out of the way, I don't get far before I'm yanked back by my hair.

I shriek in pain as whoever has me held catches my hand that's holding the knife and squeezes a pressure point until the knife clatters to the floor. I begin to strain against whoever has me held as the man who I've wounded begins to head towards me again, blood lust shining in his enraged eyes.

Before he can reach me, he's shoved to the ground by another man.

The two begin to fight and struggling, I elbow the person behind me. My hair is abruptly released and I'm thrown off balance falling backwards. Crashing off the platform, I crawl away, staying close to floor. Finally getting to my feet, I run. Everyone is too engaged in the fight happening in the rink to grab me. Reaching the edge of the lawless crowd, I race towards the doors and push against one as hard as I can.

It opens with a loud groan and I slip through, abandoning the chaos I've caused. No one comes after me and I can't help but worry why. Running down the hall, I notice the missing guards and push myself to go faster.

My breath comes out in short pants and my ankle almost twists under me. A shout comes from behind me as I hit the stairs leading upward. Scurrying up the steps, I reach the top and race down the expensive looking hallway. Shouts rise up behind me once again and I'm relieved as finally the clubs loud music reaches my ears.

The hall ends and all of a sudden the vast club is spread before me. I see the same two guards standing by the stairs which lead down. Glancing behind me, I see five men running after me guns drawn.

Shit.

I spurt down the stairs, not wasting any more time and breeze by the two guards. By the time they process what's happening, I'm already making my way to the exit doors. Shoving through the club's dancers, I can't concentrate on anything. My only focus is reaching the doors and escaping.

Pushing past more people, I spot Ace a few yards away to my left. Not stopping, I continue on and finally reach the doors. Walking out, I try to appear calm as I parade past the bumpers. They nod to me and I dig my fingernails into my palms to resist the urge to move faster.

There's an eerie silence and the night sky is cloudy. My ears fill with white noise at the stillness and my breathing is still ragged. I'm only a few yards away when one of the bumpers calls out.

"Hey! Wait a minute!"

Alarmed, I break into a run, my boots trampling the solid ground. Glancing behind me briefly, I see Ace in front of the bumpers rapidly explaining something. Ace turns and I catch the nod that he sends my way. Continuing to run, I reach my car and slide in. Finding my keys, I turn it in the ignition and step on the gas, my tires squealing. In the rear view mirror I catch a glimpse of a man bursting through the club doors already raising a gun.

He aims the gun at my car but before he can shoot Ace tackles the man to the ground. Looking forward, I scream as the bright headlights of an oncoming car head straight towards me. Swerving, I just barely avoid the head on collision.

My hands begin to shake and a few minutes later I've parked in front of a motel, unable to drive any further. Sitting, I rest my head on the steering wheel, head spinning.

What the hell had just happened?

Getting out, I slam the door closed harder than necessary, my heart continuing to beat too fast. Walking around, I reach the car's trunk and open it. The sight that greets me makes my heart stutter to a stop.

My suitcase is open and has been rummaged through. My clothes are sprawled around the trunk.

"No, no, no!" I mutter to myself as my hands fearfully search for the one thing I dread has been taken.

Money.

When I come up empty, I run my hands through my wild hair, slowly going numb. Patting down my pocket in search of my phone, I begin to tremble as I can't find it. It must have fallen out during my mad dash. Shutting the trunk, I get back in the car, trying to control my hectic breathing, my ribs already beginning to hurt again as the adrenaline fades.

I have no money and no phone. No way to call my parents.

And the car will run out of gas soon.

I start the car and am about to pull out of the parking spot when red and blue flashing lights come from behind me, catching my attention. A police car parks behind my car and a burly cop steps out, a stern look on his gruff face.

I roll down my window and he comes to a stop in front of it, a hand on his gun.

"Ma'am, I'm going to need you to step out of the car, immediately."