Excitement bubbled through our plane, troops coming home. Kia glared out of the window from her seat, turned away from us. I scooted over to her and poked her cheek. "C'mon, get excited, we're going home to Steelport." I smiled. Our tour of Afghanistan was finally over, this was my first and Kia's second. She helped me deal with being away from home and nearly being blown to bits every minute.

She focused her glare on me, but gave a bark of laughter, "Serena, thanks for everything."

"Don't get mushy," I chuckled. "But thanks for saving my ass back there. If not for you, I'd be on this plane, but in a box with a flag over it."

She punched me in the arm. "You were medic for a reason. You saved at least half the guys here."

"It's only natural that the best fighter and best medic team up." I shrugged.

"Don't flatter yourself that much, you were pretty weak, now that I think about it. You should've stayed in med school." She leered.

"How do you think I paid for it? And I saw more blood than you, so I'm not weak."

"I spilled more blood than you, enough said." She turned back to her window without another word. I pouted and turned away.

A man in a black, pinstripe suit strode his way over to us and sat down. He looked like a wrestler, and took up the entire seat, crushing me between him and the unyielding Kia. "Bastards kicking me off first class," he grumbled. His cologne masked the smell of sweat.

"Um excuse me," I choked out and pressed against him.

He turned his head. "Yes?" He asked haughtily.

"You're kind of crushing me..."

He stared me down for a moment, but then scooted enough away so I could breathe.

When I looked back to Kia, she was glaring at the man. "Have some manners."

"Kia, chill," I raised my hand.

"She's right," I felt him grab my hand, "I shouldn't be rude to a pretty thing like you."

I jerked away. "You're okay, really."

The pilot's voice came over the intercom and announced our arrival. All of the soldiers jumped up immediately and started rushing off. Kia and I jumped up and ran over the man's legs in haste. We made our way out the doors and into the terminal. I tried to find Matt and my father. I saw them standing against the glass wall. Last time I'd seen Matt, he was a nerdy, little fourteen year old.

"Sissy!" Matt cried and started sprinting headlong toward me. He tackled my torso and hugged me tight. Happiness shown in his baby blue eyes, the same color as mine. Same black hair, same facial structure, we looked like twins but with an age difference. A bruise marred the skin under his right eye, on his cheekbone.

"Matt," I pulled him into a hug. I'd been so worried about him the whole time I was gone, I talked to him whenever I could. He always talked about Nyteblade, so I never fell behind in the show at all. "How'd you get that mark?"

"I fell," he said glumly. He kept his thick, British accent even though we moved away a few years ago.

"Ah, fell." Our code word.

Our father walked over to us and put his hand on my shoulder. " 'Ello, love." he said with tears in his eyes. He actually missed me? Maybe he was upset I wouldn't be getting soldier's pay anymore. It's how we paid for mom's funeral and everything we owned at the apartment.

I willed myself to get up and hug him. "How were ya?"

"Well enough."

"How'd Matt really get that bruise?" I growled into his ear.

His grip tightened on me. "He fell."

Matt tugged on my arm. "What's this, sissy?" He was studying the phone number.

"Oh, it's nothing. someone wrote it on my arm."

"You gonna call 'em?"

"No," I picked up my duffel and grabbed Matt's arm. He studied the numbers on my arm, but started chirping away about Nyteblade.

Our father lead us through the busy airport and through the entrance. Our black Chevy was waiting in the loading bay, in the handicapped space.

I jumped in the passenger side and closed the door. "You ever gonna learn how to park?"

He got in the driver's seat and slammed the door. "I was in for ten minutes, sue me." Matt climbed in the back and buckled up behind me.

Dad started heading toward our house. The streets were busy, hookers waited on corners and men in suits were trying to ogle. Shadows of skyscrapers kept us cold in the June weather. Morningstar was probably up there, lording over us all. I glared up at it before we turned to another street.

We pulled up outside our place in Brickston. Matt hopped out and went through the front door. I hefted the bag off my lap and followed him. We walked down the hall and into the apartment.

"Crapshack, sweet crapshack," I announced to the place and nearly tripped on some empty pizza boxes. Matt picked them up and rushed down the hall to throw them away. The DVD's under the TV were in order. The coffee table and couch didn't have anything on them, and I couldn't smell any dishes in the kitchen. I probably saved the money I wired just for him. I tucked it under the bed before Dad saw it. walked to our room and flopped down on the bed. Matt had gotten a new laptop while I was gone. "You didn't have to clean like the Queen was visiting!"

Matt plodded into the room with his phone to his ear. He handed it to me. The screen displayed the number on my arm.

"I wasn't going to call him, Matt!" I yelled and threw a pillow at him. He dodged and sat down next to me.

The phone clicked. "I knew you couldn't resist," that obnoxious voice greeted.

"Hi," I said coldly," my brother called this number by accident. Goodbye."

"Wait, wait!" He cried before I hung up, "I knew I was an ass on the plane, and I'm sorry, I really am. My name's Mike Diego."

"Mike Diego! You mean the wrestling guy?" Matt cried.

"Shut up, I'm talking!" I lifted my leg up and pinned him to the bed by his neck. I sighed, "I'm Serena, Serena Miller."

"Great, listen I was gonna ask if you wanted to go to a party tonight."

"A party? Did you mean my rape and possible murder?"

"Hey, I'm not that bad. What's the harm in taking a chance and having a little fun?"

I looked at Matt, who nodded his head while smiling. I didn't want to leave him by himself,

"Alright. When and where?"

"It's tonight. You tell me where to pick you up."

"Oh, can I met him, please?" Matt begged.

I took a quick glance around the room. If this guy caught sight of the building, he'd run back to whatever mansion he came from. "Sorry, he's gonna pick me up somewhere else," I said quietly.

"Oh," he sighed, but picked right back up. "I need to make you look pretty!"

"I can meet you there," I said quickly into the phone.

"No, no, where do you live?" He asked.

"Um," I tried to think of an address, "I'm near Steelport University, can you meet me at the gates?."

"Sure, I'll be there after I drop my boys off."

"Boys?"

He chuckled. "I'll explain when I pick you up. I'm on my way now, look for the red car. And I'll let your brother tell you who I am."

I hung up and sighed. "What an arse, and why did I let you talk me into it?" I glared at him.

"So you can get us acquainted with the rich people. Duh," he rolled his eyes like it was the smartest thing he'd ever done. That was a good point though, if I could get this tool to give me money, I could get him and me out of here.

I went to the closet and pulled out my only dress. It was a red cocktail, with a black silk scarf as a belt. Mom bought it for me the day I turned eighteen. "He's not gonna be my sugar daddy after one date," I chucked the hanger at him.

He caught it mid-air. "C'mon, you could use some fun."

I huffed and put on a long, black sweater-coat. "I need to go ask Dad, he'll need to protect his precious daughter." I peeked my head out of the door. "Hey, Dad?"

"Yeah?" He walked down the hall. There was already a beer in his hand.

"Hey, I got invited to a party. Can I go?"

He huffed. "Bloody hell, you're not even back an hour and you go running off? What's more important than your welcoming dinner?"

Yeah, having to get Laughing Jack's for me and Matt while you pass out on the couch sounds lovely. "Well, it was such short notice, and I'm already dressed. It's going to be a little thing at…" Shit he didn't tell me where it was. Matt said he was a wrestling guy… "a show downtown, a wrestling match."

"You like wrestling?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Of course! The guys in my squadron turned me on to it." That actually wasn't a lie. The guys would talk forever about it, so I'd caught a few things. "It's a match leading up to Murderbrawl, I gotta go, please!"

"Murderbrawl huh?" He rubbed his chin, then smiled, "Fine, you can go. Just bring me back something."

"Thank you," I hugged him and sprinted back to the room. Matt gave me a thumbs up.

I grabbed my black sunglasses and looked out the window. A red limo passed by, and I could see Mike in it. "Shit, that was quick," I hissed. I needed to catch him. "Matt, be good," I called before sprinting to the door and downstairs. The truck turned a corner the second later. I started sprinting down the sidewalk, weaving between the mob of people.

The gates were on the the next street, with the truck turning the corner to them. I jumped into the street, clamored on top of a car and started leaping across. I cleared the gates and and rolled, crashing into some bushes. Tiny branches stabbed into my dress, but I shot up and kept going.

The limo pulled up as soon as I stopped in front of the gate. I brushed whatever leaves I could out of my hair before the door popped open.

"Hey," Matt looked me up and down, "you look great."

"Thanks," I smiled and sat next to him. The car started up and headed downtown.

"Glad you could get out of babysitting, you wouldn't want to miss this match."

"So your boys are fighting?"

"Yeah, my Pale Riders," he grinned.

"They any good?"

"The best! The best anywhere!" He thumped his hand on my shoulder.

"That's great," I leaned away and looked out the window, "I didn't even have to lie about a wrestling match."

He chuckled. "You seem like a smart lady. Someone I could use on my team. You said you're in med school?"

"Yeah, I'm going to start clinical work after this summer."

"Oh, so can you start now?"

I looked at him, "It depends on what you mean."

Our car stopped. "Never mind," he opened the door, "I'll tell you later."

Lights flashed outside of the entrance. Mike grabbed my arm and led us toward the doors. Crowds of people waited in lines at the ticket booths. We walked past them and went up a staircase.

"So where are we sitting?" I asked

His laugh boomed down the corridor. He grabbed a door, "Here."

It was a private box. Lavish couches faced the glass wall that showed the arena. Lights accented the red and black scheme of the room. A group of guys were clustered around the open bar, chatting with each other instead of watching the show.

I stepped to the bar and grabbed a bottle of beer out of the ice bucket. Some of the guys eyed me, but let me drift toward the window.

I popped the cap off and took a swig. Hey, I'll be 21 in a few months anyway.

The announcer stepped into the ring and started working the crowd. Everyone in the stands were shouting for their favorite. Fights had already broken out before the actual tournament.

"And now," the announcer roared, "the Pale Riders, Killbane and Angel de la Muerte!"

Two men burst out of the tunnel and jumped into the ring. One clad in purple and yellow, the other green and red, strutted to the center of the ring. The man in purple looked toward the box, and his mask could not hide his sharp gaze. I took off my glasses to keep sight of him.

He grinned, then turned to a fighter charging into the ring. The man in red picked him up by his neck and threw him into the stands. More stormed in, but the team took them on like kings of the hill.

The door opened. I could hear the guys greet them, but the match was too interesting to look away from. The chatter declined and a scoff reached me.

Two people in high heels clicked toward me and stopped. A shot exploded behind me .

I turned around. Two women, twins, and an older man stood behind the couch. The man's face was lined with wrinkles, but his gaze was sharp. The woman on his left was holding up a pistol. "Well you're not deaf, you reacted, so you must be stupid," she sneered.

My fist clenched, but I took a deep breath. "My apologies," I bowed slightly, "I'm not normally this rude."

The man spoke in a thick accent, probably European, "Apology accepted. I am Phillipe Loren." He gestured to the woman in white sunglasses on the left, "This is Viola," he gestured to the woman with pink sunglasses his right, "and Kiki." They approached, and Kiki departed from his side to join mine. "Well, your outfit matched the color scheme, so you can't be too stupid," she said softly.

That gave me the warm fuzzies for some weird reason. "Lucky guess," I shrugged, "and I'm genuinely sorry. But the match was too good to look away from."

"It is," Philippe interjected. His expression suddenly changed. "Oh dear."

I looked back to the match. I saw the man in green take a swing to the legs and the man in purple get thrown out of the ring. The strike put him on his knees, causing the fighters to swarm on him.

Mike walked to the window and slammed his fist into it. "God dammit guys, win," he growled."

"You'll need a medic," Philippe said calmly.

Mike nodded toward me, "Why do you think I brought her?"

"Her?" Viola demanded.

Mike grabbed my arm and started dragged me out. We started walking down a corridor, toward the back of the stadium.

"That why you brought me isn't it?" I asked.

"He kept walking briskly, "I was actually going to ask you after the match if you would join the team as a doctor."

"What?" The news hit me like a piledriver. I couldn't leave Matt at home with Dad. "I don't have a degree."

"That's the great thing about it, we only need someone with medical training, the extent of it doesn't matter. Hell we could hire a lifeguard, as long as they could kept those two alive. Plus your wages wouldn't be anything to scoff at."

Static crackled through the speakers, but we could hear the words. "And the winners are The Pale Riders!"

"Yes!" Mike pumped his fist, smiling. "That'a boys!"

Happiness surged through me. They won, they were the champions! I let Mike lead me down several stairwells, and into a darkened corridor. It came to a locker room, with two cots set up against the wall.

Mike stopped me, "I know your shaky about taking the job, but it would be a huge favor to me if you could help these guys."

That money could get me and Matt out of the house. We could be happy, finally. "I'll do it," I said firmly.

Mike's face broke into a smile. "Welcome to the team, then."

I smiled and started walking toward the cots. The two had been laid down on them, Killbane on the left and Angel on the right.

Killbane groaned, "Bro, did we win?"

Angel's eyes cracked opened, "Yeah, I think we did."

They gave each other a weak fist bump and slumped back into the cots. Bruises were plastered all over their bodies, some already purple. Gashes on Killbane were bleeding freely, mainly from multiple leg fractures. Angel was breathing too hard and fast, most likely broken ribs.

I stopped in front of them, they froze in place and stared at me like I was one of God's angels. I pulled a spool of bandages out of my pocket. There were only a few bits left.

Angel tried to sit up. I rushed over and gently pushed him back onto the bed. "Did we win?"

"Yes," I smiled. Killbane hadn't made a sound since he saw me.

Angel relaxed, but coiled up in pain after he took a breath.

I wanted to conserve what few bandages I had left, so I took the scarf off my dress and started wrapping it around him. He groaned, but managed to hold himself up. Sweat and blood dripped down his bare chest. My fingers brushed through it and over the tattoo of his name, bold against tan skin. He sighed, then started panting again.

I looked around while I worked. There wasn't any equipment besides the cots, only a small red box sat on the floor. I hoped it would be enough for Killbane's broken legs. I finished with Angel, then opened the box.

"Crap." There was nothing but a small pile of Oxy pills and a few syringes filled with steroids. I grabbed a pill and put it in Angel's mouth.

"Hey girl," someone said behind me. I turned. Two guys, one with a camera and one with a notepad, glared at me. "Can you stop fussing over those two and get out of my picture?"

I sneered, but consented. The two made my patients hold up the belt. Angel winced in pain from a broken hand. They snapped their pictures and then they left. I stepped over to Killbane.

"What an ass," he said when the photographer was gone. I smirked and handed Killbane a pill. There was only a few more bits of bandage left, so I started with the worst fracture. He clenched his teeth and hissed, "So you gotta name?"

"Serena," I said softly.

He smiled and let himself fall back on the bed. His wrappings were done. I stepped back over to Angel. He was asleep on his back and was gripping the scarf with one hand. It made me smile.

Mike was waiting at the door. I marched up to him. "I'll take the job, but you need to get me some fucking bandages."