DO NOT OWN!

CHAPTER ONE: Narrator

Meegan McLeod leaned against the ally wall wheezing and bleeding; her boxing gloves still on shielded from the night air of Boston. It was a perfect fight. The kind of fight that left her shaking and scared. She had almost killed that girl, and even though the crowd was deafening, she could hear very hit squish with blood. But she didn't stop. Meegan was known in the underground boxing circuit as Good Friday; she was every opponent's day of reckoning. She made sure of that.

"Need a cigarette?" Meegan jumped at the sound of the old man's voice. "Look like you need a cigarette." He said again.

She took off her cherry red gloves, covered in blood. "Thanks." She said taking the cigarette he had lit for her. Meegan had talked to men after fights before, and most of them wanted to know if she would hit them… in private… But this one was different. She felt like she was in a place of mutual respect. Like he had torn into a guy or two before.

"Good Friday's a hell of a name," this time she noticed his accent. It was Irish. It sounded good.

"I didn't pick it. My brother did."

"Either way, it suits you. Tell me, what's your real name?" He asked locking eyes with her. His eyes were so intense, but right now they were friendly.

"Why? So you can tell the cops?" She huffed. He laughed and dropped his cigarette grinding it into the pavement.

"Curiosity," he said. She knew that wasn't all.

"And?" She said as quickly as she could think.

"I think I knew your father."

"No one in Boston knows my father." She said hoping he really didn't know him. Her father was a murdering piece of shit.

"There are a few in Ireland that know him."

She turned wide blue eyes to this man, unconsciously holding her breath. She held her eyes still but checked him for weapons. The only way this man could know her father was if he had been in a maximum security Irish prison the last twenty years. She dropped the last bit of her cigarette and ground it out like he had.

"I have to be going." She said picking up her gloves and turning to go back inside. He grabbed her elbow, knowing she could beat him to death if she felt like it, but doing it anyway.

"Meegan, you don't have to live the life of your father. No one has to."

"Don't worry, sir. I don't." She said, more sure of this than anything else. He smiled at her kindly and nodded as he let her arm go. She stepped inside the door again, thinking of her paycheck. Then she realized he had gotten her name and she had no idea who he was. But when she turned back to the alley he was already gone.