1

"Regina, where do you think you are going?" Cora Mills demanded of her seventeen year old daughter.

"None of your damn business, Ma," Gina replied, her words dripping with the Brooklyn drawl her family despised.

"Do not call me "Ma". And I will not permit you to leave the house dressed like that."

Gina looked straight at her mother and suddenly her expression became completely clear and calm. "We both know that you will," she said softly.

She slipped outside; Cora sighed as the front door clicked shut behind her perpetually angry daughter.

Gina looked down at her outfit. She didn't see what the problem was. Her black leather pants might be close fitting, but they didn't show anything. And yeah, her sheer white blouse ended quite a way above her belly button, but it was just her stomach. Which was beautifully toned. And she was wearing a jacket! She ran a hand through her short dark hair and looked down at her scuffed Chuck Taylors. Maybe she should go back… She wavered for a moment-

"Hey, Gina!"

She looked up. Robbie was sitting on his bike, clearly bored of waiting. Gina forced a smile and hurried down the porch steps to the road. She swung her leg up, straddling the motorcycle behind her boyfriend.

"You look hot in my jacket," he said smugly. Gina's smile became more genuine. Robbie was going to be head of the Regals one day, and the Regals were the most infamous motorcycle gang in town. His jacket, complete with metal studs and an intricate Evil Regal design, was the best gift she'd ever received. He'd only given it to her because he was getting a new one, but she didn't care. In a way it was better - if it had been a true gift she might have felt a bit guilty.

Robbie kicked the bike into action and Gina let the breeze run through her hair for a second before pulling on her helmet. She wanted to be wild, but she was smart, too.

Robbie drove home, first. Gina hopped off the bike. She liked Robbie's family, they had always been kind to her, and his mother was a phenomenal cook. And despite the fact that they were criminals, they'd always seemed incredibly honest and good natured.

"Hey, Hood," she said to Robbie's father, who was cleaning his gun in the living room. Robbie ran upstairs to get whatever he needed; Gina watched Hood's gun with interest.

"You ever shot one?" he asked her. She shook her head.

"Robbie didn't let you try his?"

Gina shrugged. "I'm not that interested."

"In Robbie, or the gun?"

Gina gaped at the weather beaten man in front of her. He chuckled.

"Don't worry, kid. I'm not gonna shoot you for being way too smart for my son."

"What?"

"Robbie… He's a good boy, but… You're still in school, right?"

"I'll graduate this summer."

"Gina… I see your anger. I don't know what makes your eyes burn the way they do, but I see them burning and I understand. I do. That fire inside you makes you want to break everything, break all the dumb rules that have held you back your whole life. But you don't love my son."

"I…"

"Honey, I'm not saying I go for all that true love nonsense. But you need to go to college, or hack into some bank system, or use that brilliant mind of yours for something other than teasing the boys."

"I like being with Robbie," Gina said stubbornly. Hood sighed.

"And he likes being with you. But sometimes a thing ain't right, even if it's comfortable."

Gina opened her mouth to reply, but she heard Robbie clatter down the stairs and closed it again. Robbie grabbed her hand and they left the house. Gina was furious. She didn't know why Hood's advice had gotten to her so much. He had always been fatherly towards her, but this… It was too much. He had crossed the line. She could understand a father protecting his son, but this had almost been the other way around. Why should she be too good for Robbie? Why was she any different than him? Why did the fact that her mother could afford to send her to a fancy school mean that she deserved any better than anyone else.

She pulled Robbie to a stop, stepping in close and looking up at him with her rich, chocolatey eyes.

"Let's go to our place," she told him. Robbie's eyes widened with anticipation. He didn't need telling twice.

"You wanna drive, kid?" he offered. Gina let the kid thing slide. Technically, Robbie was eight years older than her, but she thought his mental age was about fifteen. Plus, he didn't often let her drive his pride and joy. She climbed on, enjoying the feel of his strong hands around her waist, her fingers tingling with excitement as she started the bike's engine.

"Our place" was an abandoned cabin a little way into the woods. She and Robbie had furnished it with odds and ends after spending a whole week there the previous hunting season. Gina had explored the forest in a beautifully flattering orange jacket while Robbie chased after bears and deer. It was only a half hour ride, and Robbie and Gina both felt at home there, away from the pressures of domineering mothers and motorcycle gangs.

Gina hadn't suggested the cabin for a while, but in a way Hood had spurred her into action. Robbie was a great guy, and she was going to prove that she wasn't too good for him. It was time… At school everyone thought of her as shockingly experienced. Gina wouldn't be surprised if a lot more went on under the plaid skirts than some of the girls let on, but the rumors about her were, as yet, untrue. She loved to read, but she'd yet to feel the magical chemistry that her books described. She fleetingly thought back to Daniel, the reason she now attended an all girls school, and wondered what had become of him.

They reached the cabin; Gina parked the bike and sauntered inside, Robbie following close behind. They didn't even bother to turn the lights on; their mouths collided and Gina let her mind drift away leaving nothing but determination. She was doing this.

Emma pulled her worn jacket more tightly around her shoulders, hunching them as she walked through the quickly darkening streets. She had spent most of her life fending for herself, but no one was tough enough for everything. To distract herself from the cold, she imagined what it would be like to be rich. It was a game she'd played a lot with the kids in foster homes, imagining big, happy families in front of roaring fireplaces with an endless supply of hot chocolate. Emma hadn't tasted hot chocolate for… She couldn't even remember how long.

Her tangled blonde hair wound its way down her back; her slender legs were flattered by too small jeans. Emma felt the man following her in her gut before she heard him. And by the time she was sure, it was too late to run.

"How are you doing, love?" he said, putting on a stupid British accent. Emma closed her eyes for a long moment, considering her options. She could scream, but in this neighbourhood that would just make people check their windows were locked.

"I've been better," she answered eventually. Apparently this was incredibly amusing.

"Want to come back to my place? I'll keep you warm…"

"No, thanks," Emma told him, beginning to walk away. He grabbed her arm.

"Oh, come on love, I was only teasing. Don't be like that."

"Let me go," she said firmly.

"I'm afraid I won't be doing that, sweetheart. You see," he pushed her roughly against the wall, "it's been a bloody cold week, and I'm sick of cold bitches pretending they don't want me."

Emma could smell the whisky on his breath. "Killian, it's over," she said to him. "Stop trying to get out your drunken rape fantasy and go home."

"Come on, Swan. You can't just leave. You've got nowhere to go."

Emma sighed. He was an asshole, but he was right. He wrapped his arm around her. She settled into the familiar hold.

"See," he cooed, stroking her hair. "You're not going anywhere."

She let him lead her back to his apartment, hating herself for going, but going nonetheless. When they got inside she let him kiss her, and she had to admit that a part of her enjoyed it. A weird, fucked up, miserable part of her… But it was still a part of her. She kissed back. She'd never had a home. Maybe this was how you got one.

Emma woke up to snoring akin to a chainsaw and a bitter taste in her mouth. She looked at the naked man beside her and sighed heavily. He was cute, when he wasn't drunk. He was also a douchebag, and a kinky one at that. And the thing was, as much as he was using her, she was using him, too. The thought exploded in her brain before she could stop it.

She was using him. She was using him. She jumped out of bed, her head spinning with the speed. She threw her few belongings into a trash bag, pulled on some clothes, and took one last look at the man she'd thought was the bad guy. But maybe it was her. She ran out of the apartment, tears streaming down her cheeks as she replayed her memories of the last few months. She had chosen this. She had chosen him, she had said yes, she had played along, she had done it for comfort and safety and because she wanted a home and she had… She had used him. He was a cheating, brawling drunk, but at least he was honest about how he felt. Maybe he even loved her. But she did not love him.

Her shoes filled with icy water as she ran down the street. She had no idea where she was going, she just knew it was away, far away…

Gina crept out of bed and called a taxi on her cell. She showered while it was on its way, hoping the noise wouldn't wake Robbie. She turned the water to the hottest setting, scrubbing until her skin was bright red and stinging. She heard the taxi pull up and dragged on her clothes, feeling dirtier than ever. Why? Why did it feel so wrong..? She had wanted it. He had wanted it. But… She had wanted it for the wrong reasons. And now she had to go.

The taxi took her home. Running back to her mother like a spoilt little rich girl. She growled inwardly. And made a decision.

She changed out of her leathers, forcing herself not to shower again. It was unnecessary. She would not give in to her brain playing games with her. She was perfectly clean. She had done nothing wrong… She threw her warmest clothes into her sports bag and put on her boots. She put Robbie's jacket back on. It was her favourite, she couldn't help it. And she took her credit card, and the card to her savings account.

She had screwed up because of her mother for the last time. Finally, she was going to make her own way in life. She ran out of the house, heading straight for the bus station. She would be on the way to Mexico before her mother even knew she was missing. She laughed at the idea of Mexico. Really, she had no idea. But in the movies, it was always Mexico.