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Bartending wasn't exactly fun, but it was work, and it made money. The boxing ring next to the Thames river was dirty, smelled like beer and smoke, and was full of half-drunk men gambling their life savings away. My family was poor in the first place, but I never thought I would stoop so low as to serve beer to greasy, fight-crazy men just so they could get drunk. The only good thing about it was the actual boxing. I loved watching the two men analyzing each other, and then trying to defeat them by the weaknesses they see. One night, as I cleaned glass beer mugs, I was enraptured by the match. There was a large, hulking brute swinging crazy haymakers at his opponent. The unfortunate man facing him was about a head shorter than this giant, had wild black curls almost springing out of his head, and was being beat up mercilessly. Poor guy. Maybe I could give him a drink on the house after. He was also quite handsome... Suddenly the man dropped down, ducking a punch, and slid through the large man's legs and knocked them out from under him. In a flash, he kicked the man's ribs with force, cracking some, stepped on both ankles, an observed weak point, and grabbed him by the throat. The giant, now unable to fight back was then thrown across the ring by a heel kick in the diaphragm. Amazing. The man who had just had no chance of losing was unconscious on the ground. The ring was silent. The curly-haired boxer dusted off his hands and walked over to the corner of the bar. He didn't ask for anything, so I let him keep to himself. I was still in shock from the match. The announcer started back up, another round starting. The crowd blinked back into reality and started cheering again.

Just then a man sat down in front of me, breaking me out of my reverie.

"I'll have a pint, please, Miss," he asked. I put on my serving smile.

"Coming right up,"

The man stared at me with a lopsided grin. I gave him a quick smile back, but quickly went back to cleaning the mugs. I was getting uncomfortable now. I flipped back a black curl. My hair was up, but some strands always seemed to escape the messy bun piled on top on my head.

"Hey Lady! You look pretty fine tonight, eh?" He laughed and slammed his empty mug on the counter. I swallowed audibly. This was his fourth glass. I wanted to tell him to stop drinking and go home, but I couldn't refuse customers, especially boxers...

Tonight was a cold one. The wind blowing off of the Thames was slow, but chilling. I suddenly resented being so poor I could only afford to be a bartender, and even then I didn't have enough change to pay to take a carriage home.

I suddenly heard footsteps behind me. I turned around. There was the man who rudely commented on my looks in the bar.

"Hey Miss! Wait up for me, will ya?" he hollered. He started to run, weaving left and right on the boardwalk. I pulled my wrap closer to me and started walking quicker. So did the man. I started to run until I heard his footsteps disappear down an alleyway. I looked behind me to make sure he was gone. There was no one in sight. I sighed in relief and turned back around, only the gasp when the man appeared out of a cranny between two buildings. He came so close up in front of me that I could smell his foul, alcohol tainted breath. He grinned at me with yellow teeth.

"You cold, Miss? Here, I'll keep you warm," he said with a hint of menace. He grabbed my wrap and threw it into the water beside him. It soon got heavy and sunk like a rock. He then forced his arms around me and held me close to him.

"Get off me, you animal!" I shouted and squirmed. His grip was strong. He slowly traced his fingers down my arm, my dress sleeve going down with it. With a flash of horror I realized what he was doing. I beat his chest and pulled my sleeve back up when he stumbled backwards. I pulled up my skirts and ran. The man soon caught up to me, grabbing my arm. I tried to yank myself free, but he held on tight. I screamed and thrashed, but to no avail. He burrowed his head into my hair and breathed in. I nearly fainted. Suddenly, he was off me and on the ground. A man held his hands behind his back. It was the amazing boxer I had admired earlier! While the terrible man wrestled in his grip, the boxer looked up to me. His deep brown eyes sparkled in the moonlight as he scanned me up and down for damages. I probably looked like a train wreck. I felt like one, too. My hair was dishevelled, my dress was torn, and I was breathing like I had just run a five mile race, full sprint. I was frozen to the spot. In a second, the boxer had bound the man's feet and wrists. He slowly approached me. I put up no fight.

"Are you alright?" He asked me. His voice was strangely comforting... I suddenly broke down, my knees buckled and tears streamed down my face. He was by me in a flash.

"Hush," he told me and stroked my hair. I leaned against my saviour, this man I did not know, and sobbed into his coat. As I would not be going anywhere anytime soon, he scooped me up in his arms like a bride and carried me down the street.