The alley remained silent as Alex stared over at the Devil of Hell's Kitchen. The way his face remained still under his mask unsettled her, like he was calculating something. Something that probably wouldn't work out in her favor. She noted dumbly that they were almost the same height, giving her the slightest amount of comfort. This was a real man, with real height. A real man who could snap her neck and leave her for dead in this alleyway with no one to stop him.

"Why do you want to help me?" he asked coldly, unflinching.

Alex felt her mouth open and close nervously before shrugging lamely. "You think you're the only one who hates them? You take them out, my life becomes a lot less complicated."

The vigilante chuckled, his lips turning up into a grin that was anything but kind. "Complicated?"

"Look, you don't need my goddamn sob story", Alex spat, eyes flicking towards the opening to the alley nervously, "What you need is what I know."

He took a step closer, making Alex step back almost involuntarily. Her eyes took him in, all sweat and dried blood, trying to find anything about him that felt human. She could feel his focus on her, cutting through her like he could see her insides. Her stomach twisted at the thought.

"And what do you know?", he asked simply.

"I…", she muttered, "I know products. Dates, times, people. Things that can help you get to the stuff that's actually hurting people."

"How do I know you're not just trying to set me up?"

"You think I'd be that stupid?" she hissed, irrationally offended at the idea, "I've seen what you do to people. Up close. I wouldn't risk you decapitating me with a car door if I wasn't good for it."

So fast it was almost like it didn't happen, Alex noticed the smallest twitch in the masked man's jaw. But it was gone so fast she figured she must have imagined it. Instead, he lowered his head slightly, the shadows falling over the sides of his face. "Alright then. Tell me."

The dark haired girl's eyes flicked back towards the entrance to the alley. "Not here."

"Why not?"

Alex's fingers twitched into a fist, her jaw tightening. "Have all the concussions made you brain dead? You found out where I am just by beating on a small time dealer. They know where I work. Who says they aren't sending someone right now because the dealer you ripped apart blabbed the second you left."

"He's not going to talk. Trust me."

Her body stilled at that, feeling her blood run cold as her eyes flicked over the vigilante's face. "What did you do to him?"

"What do you have?", he demanded, clearly avoiding the question.

"We need somewhere safe." Alex insisted.

The Devil tilted his head to the side, considering what she'd said. Alex noted how still he could be, how easily he blended into the shadows behind him. The costume really put the whole devil idea into perspective, the spitting image of a demon sent from Hell. In comparison, she was rather weak. Her skinny limbs and the ever present dark circles under her eyes made her look like she might snap in half from a light gust of wind. She briefly wondered how pathetic she must look to him, how easily breakable.

"Are you running a deal tomorrow night?" he asked quietly.

Her heart jumped at that question. "Why?"

"Where is it?"

The idea that the Devil of Hell's Kitchen would know exactly where she would be, even if she was the one who'd suggested giving him information, made her stomach churn. Alex couldn't decide if she was more suicidal or stupid in this scenario.

"Behind the old antique store on East Broadway", she responded lowly, her arms instinctively wrapping around herself and her tongue going dry, "Some Wall Street guy. A regular, I guess."

The vigilante nodded, his jaw set. "Then we'll meet there."

Alex slowly nodded, taking another shaky step back, the sound of a shard of glass crunched under her heel. The small sound echoed against the brick walls beside them. It made the whole thing feel bigger, emptier. Something told her he felt the same.

"You're not just finding a dark place to kill me, right?" she sputtered weakly, her voice cracking like a child's. He lowered his head slightly, jaw clenched at what she said.

"I want something", he said lowly, avoiding her question once again, "Something that proves you're not lying to me."

The girl could feel her eyes drop to the concrete below them, unsure of what she could give him without getting herself killed in the process. Whether it was him or the other Wraith's, she had to be careful of what she gave away right now.

"The runner you were asking about", she began, deciding this was the safest course of action, "I wasn't lying when I said I didn't know him. But I know who killed him. Brendon Lynch. Boss's son. Real piece of shit. No one can touch him and he knows it. He likes cutting people up, sending a message. Kid probably started running his mouth to the wrong people. Kind of like I'm doing now."

Taking in what she'd said, the vigilante nodded. She could feel him watching her, making her hold her breath. Slowly, he stepped around her shaking body, looking ready to leave her in the alley. "Then I'll pay him a visit."

As she watched him walk down the alley, Alex felt her breath fall out of her chest. As the sound left her lips, the masked man paused. Her heart almost stopped as he turned his head towards her again. Quicker than she thought possible, he was in front of her again. With a yelp, Alex tried to step backwards but felt her back collide with the wall instead. "This, it doesn't mean I trust you. If you say anything-"

"You'll kill me?", she whispered in a way that she hoped sounded defiant, feeling her shoulders dig into the wall, "Torture me?"

Out of nowhere, the mask's fist slammed into the wall just inches from her face. Alex cried out, any sense of resistance crumbling at the thought of him doing to her what she'd seen him do to others. Her eyes snapped shut, her body pressed so tight against the bricks that she might just become part of the wall. But underneath the fear was something hot, something angry. Something that made her want to rip off his mask and spit in his face.

"So am I just supposed to wait around for you to jump out of some shadow and drag me by the jaw into an alley again?"

Alex slowly and carefully opened her eyes, ready to see the mask threateningly close to her face once again, only to be met with an empty alley. Her breath collapsed out of her chest, her eyes peering down the alley for any sign of the vigilante. Only the shadows were left, and she couldn't be sure he wasn't lurking in them. Jerkily, Alex curled in on herself, trying and failing to keep her breathing under control as the reality of what had happened crashed down around her.

Unknown to Alex, Matt was still listening a few blocks down, perched on a fire escape that was questionably stable at best. He remained still, listening to the woman not far from him. Her breath was ragged and she seemed to be rocking herself back and forth. The smell of generic shampoo and syrup still wavered around him, clinging to his clothes.

Despite what he'd said, Matt was curious what this girl had. He knew that if she could give him the right information, even just the right name, he could bring down one of the most violent gangs in Hell's Kitchen. Still, something about her unsettled him. She'd been too willing to give away information, too easily swayed away from them. Matt knew she could be setting him up, getting him to some location to ambush him. Logically, he knew he couldn't trust her.

But his gut told him that she was desperate. Her pulse told him the same thing. And desperate meant scared. She knew what she was wrapped up in, and she wanted out one way or another. He could use that.

Matt could hear the girl gasping for breath, teetering on the edge of a panic attack. A pang of guilt ran through him, knowing he'd been the one to put her in that position. He could still hear the way her pulse jumped around, radiating through her body in a wild panic. She muttered curses to herself, berating herself viciously.

After a few minutes, he heard her scramble to her feet- with a fairly painful limp, he noted- grabbing hold of the backpack she must have dropped when he's shown up and running down the street.

Matt stayed still for a few minutes more, listening to her run past the subway stop and towards an apartment building not too far away. Carefully, Matt stepped back towards the ladder behind him. The metal grating of the fire escape groaned under his weight as he skillfully made his way up towards the roof. Making the jump across a few rooftops, he managed to get closer to the apartment the woman- Alex- was currently locking herself into. From what he could tell, she was alone. It must have been her apartment. The faint sounds of her throwing things against the wall and muttering angrily to herself made him frown deeply.

This girl was violent. This girl was desperate. And Matt wasn't about to trust her yet.

Alex didn't sleep all night. Her eyes felt heavy as she dragged herself through her apartment in intermittent fits of panic. Now, hours later, she was left alone in the dressing room of Courtside, Hell's Kitchen's most sexist sports bar. Staring at her pale, sunken face in the cracked mirror, Alex tugged on the bags under her eyes with the pads of her fingers, staring at her reflection. The edges of her jaw were faintly purple where he'd grabbed her jaw. Her eyes drifted down to the massive bruise on her arm. The entire area had started swelling overnight and, luckily for her, was starting to come down slightly. The bruise was nearly black and uglier than she'd hoped it would be.

Unfortunately for her, she had to work at Courtside that day. And long sleeves were not an option there. She already donned her uniform, a humiliating knockoff cheerleader crop top and miniskirt. The garish blue and red outfit gave her little dignity, with her exposed stomach and the edge of her ass poking out of the skirt making her feel like a piece of meat. Her hair was pulled up so tight it felt like her scalp was going to fall off. Not to mention the black stripes painted under her already made up eyes was suffocating her skin.

Sighing, she roughly reached out for the one bottle of concealer she actually owned. Snatching it up and squinting down at it, she tried to decipher if there were any instruction on the tiny bottle. Makeup was not one of the things she had a budget for at the moment. Most of the facepaint came from the bar and the eyeliner she got at a convenience story on the corner. She vaguely remembered getting it from a party a few years ago. Awkwardly, Alex scooped up some of the pale goo with her fingers and smeared it onto the bruise. As soon as she touched it, she hissed and pulled her fingers back. The mild touch made the whole thing throb with pain. Steeling herself, Alex gently rubbed the makeup over her arm as best she could while holding her breath to keep from groaning in pain.

She spent nearly half an hour working at the bruise, most likely making it worse. But the coverup did most of the trick. Only a dark shadow could be seen beneath the smeared mess of makeup she had managed to apply. At the very least, she'd had something to focus on other than the night before.

The image of Daredevil's fist only inches from her face still made her want to curl up into a corner. It seemed to be his signature move, save for throwing Russian's into dumpsters. She'd seen the people he'd left behind in his wake, and she was well aware of what he might end up doing to her.

Buzz.

Alex nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of her phone. Sucking in a breath, she saw Mandy's name flashing across the screen and took the call.

"Hey", she said with as much normality as she could.

"Hey, what's up?", Mandy's voice responded, "You weren't home this morning. I brought doughnuts."

Alex pressed her head into her free hand, feeling her chest pinch. "Yeah- yeah, uh, sorry about that. I had to get to work early. There's a game today. Gotta prep the fried food and all that."

"Still, you coulda called me before."

"I know, I'm sorry", she reassured her friend, her voice cracking slightly.

"We're still on for Sunday?", Mandy asked, "Reagan's got this new chocolate raspberry cake recipe and she's dying to get your opinion."

"Oh, yeah", Alex responded, only half remembering that promise, "What- uh, what are we celebrating again?"

"Hello, that huge mural I managed to throw up last week", Mandy reminded her, "Took freaking months of planning to get that thing up without any cops catching on."

The dark haired girl's mind flashed to the large graffiti mural that Mandy was referring to, remembering now. "Oh, shit. Yeah, yeah I'll be there."

"Hey…", Mandy drawled, "Are you okay? I mean, you sound weird. Weirder than usual."

She couldn't help but feel her chest pinch even tighter. Alex hated lying to her friend, but there was no way she was going to tell her what happened last night.

"Yo, Moreno!"

Whirling around in her chair, she looked over to see Nina, one of the other waitresses, leaning against the door only a few feet away with her arms crossed over her bare stomach.

"Hey, I've gotta go. Work stuff." Alex didn't wait for a response before shutting down the call. God, she was a terrible liar.

"Boss wants you on the floor", Nina said simply.

Alex felt her face fall. "I was hoping a black hole would appear and swallow this place up before my shift."

"No such luck, girl", Nina chuckled, "This place is still standing and you've got a shift to suffer through."

"Minimal groping?" Alex asked hopefully.

A smirk grew on Nina's painted lips. "Minimal groping. Until the rush, that is."

Pushing the images of masked vigilantes and comatose Russians from her head, Alex pushed herself up from her seat and made her way out to the bar. It was slow, only a few older men scattered around the place ogling the waitresses. Unfortunately, business would pick up in a few hours since there was a game on tonight. Alex didn't bother to learn what game in particular. With a small groan, she grabbed a notepad and made her way onto the floor and towards a table of men. She slapped a big fake smile on her face as they looked up at her with gross smirks on their faces.

"What can I do you for, boys?" she lilted, her voice going up an octave out of habit. Customers tended to like women who sounded airheaded.

The brown haired man in the center of the table leered up at her, clearly posturing. "Oh, I don't know. Some wings, some fries. Maybe a quickie in the back."

Alex forced herself to smile wider in an attempt to keep the sneer off her face. "Afraid only two of those things are on the menu. I'll get the food."

Feeling her face tighten, she quickly turned on her heel and made her way towards the kitchen. She could hear the men leering behind her, several making comments about what they'd like to do to her ass.

It remained like that for hours, just quiet and the smell of cheap cologne floating through the air. Random tips from guys trying to show off shoved in the elastic band of her skirt. Then the game started and the customers poured in. More men grabbed her ass throughout the evening until the shift was finally over. As quickly as she could, Alex made her way into the back once again to try and get changed. Several other waitresses who were just starting their own shifts were milling around in various states of undress.

"You off?" one of the girls asked, lazily painting her face.

"Yup", Alex responded, quickly digging into her backpack for her actual clothes, "You lucky ladies get the shit shift."

The girl shrugged, tossing down the black grease paint she had been holding onto. "Better tips."

"More hands up your skirt", Alex countered, tugging off her crop top and quickly replacing it with an old tshirt. She kept moving like that, replacing her clothes and angrily wiping off the makeup from her face. She scrubbed so hard her cheeks turned red. Tugging her hair out of the skull numbing ponytail, she called out to the other girls in the room. "What time is it?"

"Coming up on nine", another girl called out, pulling up her skirt.

Alex muttered a few curses under her breath. She was due at the pick up in half and hour and it was about a twenty minute walk. She couldn't afford the bus, so she was stuck rushing through the sidewalk. Snatching up her backpack, Alex quickly waved goodbye and ran out of the bar into the night. The humidity outside quickly stuck to her skin as she made her way through the streets towards the pickup spot.

The pickup was always the same: an old garage where a bunch of taxis were shipped off to when they broke down. Apparently Brendon's father owned the business, but Alex had never seen him around. Nor did she ever particularly want to. She didn't want to find out what kind of man could produce someone as fucked up and sadistic as Brendon Lynch.

Making it to her destination, Alex ducked into the garage. Old car parts littered the floor, making the place look more like a graveyard than anything else. Grease was smeared across the concrete floors and stuck to the bottoms of Alex's shoes. The only light produced was from a few fluorescent lights buzzing above their heads. And the only other person there was Brendon.

Alex's eyes widened at the sight of him. Leaning against an old taxi with a cigarette stuck between his lips, his usually smirking face was swollen on one side with a black eye and busted lip. His greasy hair fell in sheets over the side of his face, making it hard to see what other damage had been done.

"Holy shit…"

Brendon finally turned to her, his face far from happy. His lips curled down into a sneer at the sight of her, pulling the cigarette out. Upon closer inspection, she saw a long gash at the edge of his hairline. The first three fingers on his right hand were all bandaged together, clearly broken. Alex's eyes tracked every injury, her mind flashing back to the man she knew was responsible for this.

"Nothing holy about it", Brendon grumbled, the cut in his lip giving him a small lisp, "Guess who the fuck I ran into last night."

"I don't think I need to guess", she muttered, carefully taking a step back. He looked pissed, and pissed was dangerous. Instead of pushing it, Alex quickly changed subjects. "So, you've got the-"

"The coke, yeah", he spat, digging around in his pocket, "You fucking Jews, can't listen to me for two fucking seconds without bringing it back to money."

"Excuse me?", Alex seethed, her cheeks going hot with anger.

Grabbing hold of her wrist, Brendon yanked her hand palm up and slammed several packets filled with coke into her hand. "Shut the fuck up and sell this shit. I've got stuff to do."

Still furious at the anti semitism, Alex ripped her wrist out of his grip. Shoving the handful of packets into her backpack, she slung it back over her shoulder. She kept her jaw tight, biting her tongue as best she could. Brendon, however, did not take his gaze off of her. His eyes were hard as he looked her over.

"Lexi", Brendon lilted, his eyes focused in on her icily, "You met the bastard, right? You know, the mask?"

Alex kept herself as still as possible, terrified even the slightest flinch would give her away. "Yeah. Couple days ago, on the deal at the park. He kicked the crap out of us."

"He say anything?" he demanded, "Anything that might tell you where he'd be?"

"Don't think he's telling random dealers where his devil lair is." she responded simply, keeping her voice as even as she could.

Sneering down at her, Brendon nodded tightly towards the doors behind her. "Useless as usual. Get the fuck out of here. Just sell and bring the money back. Leave the money in the office."

As she clambored back, Alex noticed Brendon's hand pass over the side of his jeans. His fingers wrapped around a gun tucked into his waistband. Alex's eyes widened at the sight of it. She shouldn't be surprised, calling him violent was the understatement of the century. For a brief second, she wondered what state the black clad vigilante must be in. But a gun was not his weapon.

Brendon spotted her staring wide eyed at the gun. Almost immediately, his face twisted into a smirk. He lifted up the edge of his shirt to show off the weapon. "You like it? My old man got it for me, off the books. Figured I'd find the asshole who busted my face and return the favor."

Alex's lips pressed together nervously. "Well, um… good luck with that."

Without bothering to wait for a response, Alex turned on her heel and walked back out to the street as quickly as she could. She made a note to tell the vigilante about the gun, about Brendon. Seemed like something he should know and would keep her on his good side. Her feet seemed to carry her to the drop off without her having to think about it. Her body was on autopilot.

The image of the gun flashed in her head again. What would Brendon do to her if he knew what she'd done? What she was trying to do. He definitely wouldn't use a gun. No, no he'd take his time with it. Like he did to that runner Daredevil had asked her about. She'd be left in some dumpster, if she was lucky, body parts missing and throat slit.

Alex felt her heart rate pick up slightly, her body sweating in the dark heat. Breathing deeply, she quickly swiped stray hairs from her sweaty forehead and made her way behind the antique store. The smell of mildew and old clothes spilled out from the windows that had stupidly been left open by some tired worker. Eyes flicking to the entrance to the alley, Alex swiftly shut the windowed and hoped others would think they were locked. Sighing, she leaned against the exposed brick wall behind her, waiting impatiently for the buyer.

She, luckily, didn't have to wait long. The buyer- a man in a suit that looked like it cost more than her rent for the entire year- came sauntering into the alley. One look at him and Alex could tell he did steroids too, most likely to impress secretaries who he falsely thought he was hot shit. He had that arrogant air rolling off him. His eyes raked over her, lips quirking back disappointedly.

"Not my usual." he noted, pulling at his cuffs.

Alex shrugged, keeping herself as neutral as possible. It was the only way to stay above it all. "She was busy."

"Can't say this is an improvement", he huffed, looking over her pale, bruised face and crooked nose with distaste, "You have what I came here for?"

"No", she responded, sarcasm lacing her words, "I came here with nothing for the pleasure of your company."

The man straightened up, eyes narrowing. "You don't have to be a bitch about this."

Alex could feel several retorts on her lips, ready and waiting. But she needed this deal over. Involuntarily, her eyes flicked over to the darkened corner beside her. Biting back whatever she was going to say, Alex purposefully rolled her eyes and dug a handful of the packets out of the side pocket of her backpack. Flashing them in front of Wall Street, she held her other hand out expectantly.

Without any other prodding, he calmly dug a thick wad of cash and slapped it in her hand. "I assume you have the rest, too."

Nodding, she dumped the fistful she had into Wall Street's hand and dug out two more from her stash. The man stuffed it all in his pockets, clearly not afraid to be caught with it.

"You can go now." Alex stated.

The man smirked, unphased. "Pleasure."

Calmly, the man turned around and sauntered out of the alley. Watching as he disappeared around the corner, Alex's eyes fell again on the dark corners. She strained her eyes, trying to see his outline somewhere, anywhere. Remembering him appearing out of nowhere, Alex noted the large dumpster tucked away in the corner.

Slowly, she approached the dumpster, trying to see if there were any shadows behind it. Would he hide behind a receptacle full of garbage? It wouldn't really surprise her. She could feel her stomach flip around as she opened her mouth, ready to call out to him.

"Your information was good."

The scream that left her lips was short lived. Alex swung around, hands going straight to her mouth to muffle the sound. He was only a few feet away, standing as if he'd just materialized there. On instinct, Alex's eyes searched the area for where he could have been hiding, eyes flicking up to see the low roof above them.

"Did-" she stuttered, hands falling down only an inch to allow herself to talk, "Did you jump down from the roof?"

The vigilante stood still, as if he hadn't heard or didn't care about the question. "Your information. It was good."

"Uh- I mean…", she muttered, "Yeah. What did you expect?"

Silence.

"Okay, maybe don't answer that."

His jaw tightened slightly, his head tilting down in a way that made the shadows cut into the sides of his face. "I found the man you told me about."

"Yeah, I noticed" she mumbled, "You know you pissed him off way more than is smart, right?"

He shrugged, unconcerned. "You were telling the truth."

"Does that mean you trust me?"

Silence. Again.

He hadn't moved once since he seemed to appear out of nowhere. Alex's eyes flicked over him, trying to see if he had any weapons. Not that he needed any, from what she'd seen. She noticed a pair of wooden batons tucked into the side of his black pants, making her furrow her brows. What kind of weapons were two sticks? She also noted that nearly every inch of skin, save for neck and jaw, were covered by black fabric. Smart. No one could see if he was hurt, making him a little more intimidating.

"He's an asshole."

Alex's eyes widened. She definitely hadn't been expecting him to make anything close to a joke, if you could classify that as anything close to humorous. Well, it was the closest she'd ever heard from him.

"Uh, yeah", she responded, "Yeah, he's a serious creep. First day I met him, he told me he'd keep an eye on me because he didn't trust a Jew with money."

The vigilante's lips curled back in distaste. Okay, good. He wasn't anti semitic at least.

"Whatever you were trying to do", she continued, finding the slightest confidence, "You just managed to piss him off. Brendon's putting together some people to track you down."

Alex noted that his lips seemed to quirk up a little. He must have some sort of death wish if the idea of a group of sadistic criminals were out for his blood. The idea of it made her take a small step back, which didn't go unnoticed.

"He's not the boss." It wasn't a question.

Alex nodded slowly, unsure quite what he needed out of her. "No. No, uh- he's the boss's son. I told you that."

"Then who's the boss?" he insisted quietly.

"I'm not sure" she admitted, feeling her voice weaken, "He- uh, no one really talks about him. At least, not past what he does to clean up after Brendon. It's a whole cloak and dagger sort of situation. I don't even know his first name."

She watched as the vigilante's lips pulled back, displeased. She felt her eyes flick down involuntarily to his gloved fists, waiting for whatever would come from the displeasure. She wasn't sure what that meant with him, what he would do when she didn't give him what he wanted. There wasn't exactly a manual for bartering information with violent vigilantes.

"I'll deal with him later", he stated simply, still not moving, "What I need are times. Places."

Alex shrugged, feeling her body tense up. "Times for what, exactly?"

His face didn't move as he stared her down. Not being able to see his eyes made it even more unsettling.

"Strong and silent type. Got it. Won't ask questions." Alex swiped at her hair, once again sticking to her sweaty forehead in the New York heat. "I know there's gonna be a big shipment of guns in two days. Not sure what kind, or if it matters."

"Where are they coming in?", he asked simply.

"Huge shipment yard a few streets down from here. It's happening around one in the morning."

"Who can I expect there?"

Alex pursed her lips. "Not Brendon for sure. He's a little too focused on you. Probably no more than five buyers will be there."

He nodded his head a fraction, seeming to accept the information given to him. "I'll deal with it. See what else you can find."

"Are…", Alex muttered, unsure of how to ask any questions, "Are we just meeting like this? Behind dumpsters and after deals?"

His head tilted to the side a fraction of an inch, like he was regarding her. "I'll find you when I need you."

Because that wasn't creepy at all.

Instead of arguing, Alex kept her mouth shut. She watched as the masked man retreated back towards the dumpster, jumping on top of it and grabbing hold of a fire escape Alex had barely registered was there. It was all too surreal. He bled into the shadows as he rose, making her realize that she was alone again. Though Alex couldn't shake the feeling that he still knew what she was doing. Hell, she wouldn't be surprised if he knew her every movement.

Something told her he already was.

A/N: Yay! I updated!

IAmTheRedMaskHeWears: So happy you like this story!

Anna: I will definitely keep writing, darling.

hunterofmiracles: Thank you so much!

Donny Donowitz: You are so amazing and I love reading your reviews!