Dean watched the little, hooded figure move across the bridge towards their side of town. The figure had been halfway across before he had even noticed it. Someone small and fast. No one crossed that bridge without permission unless they had a death wish.
"Nothing like a good, old hunt," he said lowly.
He moved with the shadows like the figure did, closing in on the end of the bridge where the other person would soon be. He moved up the hill and crouched down as much as it was needed. Just as the person reached the end, he reached up, grabbed the intruder and pulled the person over the final part of the stone railing. A small scream left the person. A female scream.
"What the...?" He mumbled.
He pulled the hood down and stared into the face of a woman. It was too dark to see her eye or hair colour but her hair was braided tight in a French braid that ended just below her shoulders. Probably to keep it from falling out of the hood.
He opened his mouth to say something but was cut off by a solid kick to his knee. As pain rushed through him, he let go of her. She turned to run and he grabbed her hair. She pushed forward, leaving him with the elastic from the braid in his hand. He looked up to see the braid starting to fall apart.
"Get back here!" He demanded.
She sprinted upwards, around the stone railing and back out on the bridge. He gave chase and his long legs caught her in no time. She was a fighter without a doubt, kicking and screaming, anything to get out of his arms. Any trace of that French braid was now long gone as her hair flew in all directions while she continued to fight against him.
"Not a chance!" He sneered in her ear. "You're coming with me!"
He dragged her back to the house. Curious eyes were watching them but no one asked a question. He threw her into the cell, slammed the door and bolt locked it.
"Let me out of here, you motherfucker!" She screamed.
She started pounding and kicking at the door.
"Who's the chick?" Roman asked.
"I found her sneaking in on our territory," Dean answered.
"Does she have a death wish?" Roman chuckled.
"I thought so too," Dean scratched his chin. "I think I know who she is. Let's give her some time to cool off. She's bound to get tired at some point and then I'll move in."
"Wanna play some cards then?" Roman asked.
They walked in to join some of the men from their gang that was in the house this night. They played card for about an hour. She had managed to keep shouting and knocking for half an hour which had surprised them all. Dean hoped she would have fallen asleep within the other half hour so that she would be groggy and extra defenseless when he went in there.
"Time to get some answers," he said.
He grabbed the chair he had been sitting on and walked to the cell. He unbolted and opened the door, dragging the chair into the middle of the room. She was still awake. She sat against the wall with one leg stretched out on the cement floor and the other leg bent with her arm lying across the knee. He could finally see her colours. Brilliant blue eyes and light brown hair. Her entire face screamed of not giving a fuck about the man in front of her. He sat down on the chair, crossing his arms and giving her the same look back.
"Do you know who I am?" He asked.
"Dean Ambrose," she answered.
"Impressive," he didn't mean that at all. "I know who you are too so why don't you introduce yourself like a good girl?"
She cracked a little sideways smirk that seemed so taunting to look at.
"You don't know shit," she said.
She was partial right. He knew her nickname on the streets, but like everyone else, he had no fucking clue who was hiding behind that name.
"You're Mayhem," he said. "Little miss Mayhem. What's your real name?"
She just looked at him, not willing to give him that answer.
"Okay, let's try something else. Why would you be so stupid to wander into Shield territory? Everyone knows what happens when you get caught," he said.
"You haven't caught me before," again that sideways smirk.
"You've been here before?" He asked surprised.
"Many times. You got most in this town. You never notice me taking a little. I only take what I need," she answered.
"Like what?" He asked.
"Food and water mostly. Occationally things to trade with the other gangs," she said.
"And why haven't you joined a gang? There's plenty out there willing to give a pretty piece of ass like yourself a way in. Suck a dick, get a meal," he said.
"I'm no one's whore!" She gritted her teeth. "I'd rather die."
"Today might be your lucky day then," he said.
Anyone else would have been dead already but there was something holding him back when it came to her. Curiosity, maybe even a hint of admiration. She had done what no one else could in this fucked up town. Survive on her own. Killing her seemed wrong somehow. Rather trade her. He knew The Balor Club was eager to get their hands on her after she beat Finn's ass one night. The Irish man had never seen it coming as she attacked from behind. A cowardly move but sometimes necessary. It wasn't like Dean had given her a warning either before he grabbed her.
"Can you at least feed me before killing me?" She asked.
He chuckled and shook his head. He wasn't sure if she tried to play it cool or if she just didn't care. Living like she did, alone on the streets, she probably had mentally prepared herself for death at a young age.
"Tell me your name and you'll get something to eat," he said.
"Guess it will be useless to ask for a pillow too," she said. "Oh well."
She laid down on the hard, cold floor and closed her eyes. He stayed for two long minutes on the chair, watching her in silence, waiting for her to open her eyes. He finally gave up, got up from the chair and dragged it loudly across the floor.
"Let's see how you feel in the morning after a night in here," he said.
The room fell back in darkness and the door locked again. She turned around facing the wall. She had slept some weird and hard places before. This wasn't gonna be any different. The only difference was that she couldn't get up and leave when she woke up.
She wasn't sure how long she had slept when the door opened. Light came through the open door but the light in the room didn't turn on. Someone almost tiptoed inside as if they didn't want her to wake up. Something was put down on the ground next to her. A hand gently moved her head up and a pillow was pushed under it. His feet moved away from her and back to the door.
"Thank you, Dean," she said lowly.
He stopped for a second but then proceeded to close and lock the door. She turned around and fumbled after what he had put down on the floor. A small basket with five apples in it. She felt grateful. She didn't care what she got to eat as long as she got something.