A/N: Thanks for reading everyone. Free cookies if you comment! Okay, so, that wouldn't really work out. But feedback is always good :) But you can just enjoy as well.

Chapter Three: Debt To Be Paid

It was dark out. Usually Melissa didn't mind the dark. But tonight it just felt…so wrong. In every which way too dark, too quiet. She rubbed her arms, the chill leeching through even her father's coat. But she had to make her way home. Michael might be looking for her. With a gentle huff of air she extinguished the last lantern and took up her keys.

Dockside was rather quiet, but she figured it was her earlier unease still getting to her. She locked the office and headed home, never seeing the shadows that followed her as they had the last few days, scampering around alley ways and always keeping just slightly behind her.

Melissa would have noticed, if numbers weren't still running in her head. If she wasn't so worried about Michael. If, If, If…

She made it to her street, and then finally there was enough light and enough echo for her to hear the footsteps besides her own. The wind gusted around her, her father's coat flapping against her body. She was very much alone. She walked after, but the footsteps kept pace with her. Not really knowing why, she started to run.

Just make it to the door. Just to the door, and then you'll see just how sil-

A dark hand grabbed her shoulder and spun her around, hard enough to spill her to the ground. Someone helped her up, none too gently. She didn't need to see his face to know it was one of Patrick's boys. They all smelled the same.

"Why `ello there, Missy. An` ow are yeh this nice night?"

She pulled away from Colin and turned to face him. Patrick's boys, alright. Colin, Henry and John, each broad-shouldered and tall with their mother's white blonde curls and none of their father's slim frame.

Best act polite. Just one good yank would probably send her down again. "Fine, thank you Colin. But it's late, and I should be going now. Goodnight."

Henry, always rough, even compared to his brothers. He grabbed her arm and pulled her up so she was struggling to keep her feet on the ground. "Yeh'll be taken us to yeh brother first, Missy."

Only Michael called her Missy. Hearing it from the Patricks made her stomach turn.

"Now, Henry. Let the girl down." That was John. Cool and refined, his father always sent him along with his brothers for the gentle jobs, knowing how out of hand Colin and Henry could get. The only Patrick to join them in school, John was the youngest and the same age and Melissa and Michael. For some years, she had quite the crush on young John. That is, until he started doing his father's dirty work. Until he started to like it.

He caught Melissa from stumbling and firmly tucked her hand onto his arm. "Now, it's that better? Really Melissa, we don't want to bother you. Just let your brother know we're down here and…better yet, why don't we head up stairs together and all sit down to have a nice, tempered talk, shall we?"

Melissa tried to pull away but Henry jabbed her shoulder hard enough to remind her just who they were. John led her to the front door and gave her a smile. "Let us in, won't you, Missy?"

Finally, she jerked her hand away but only because John let her.

"Still a hellcat, are you?"

She pulled out her keys. "Still a bastard are you?"

John slung his arm about her waist and squeezed, just slightly. He leaned down and whispered, "I like you Melissa. I'd hate to have to…" He squeezed once more and pinched her side…"hurt you."

He took the keys from her and opened the door, firmly pushing her inside. Henry and Colin followed. Colin nodded towards the first door. "That ol` bat still alive an` around?"

"Aha, the McAllister widow." John grasped Melissa's hand and tucked it into his arm once again, with his free hand, slowly rubbing her arm. "I trust you won't make us wake her, Missy?"

All she could do was nod and pull John away from the door. Henry and Colin followed John and Melissa up the stairs like a parade of nerves. Melissa was shaking, Colin and Henry were agitated. John was the only one still keeping his mask glued on.

They made it inside her small apartment and John guided her to the center of the room. Colin stood by the door, and Henry in front of the only window.

"Michael isn't here." She blurted out and pulled her arm away. "I haven't seen him all day and I don't know what you want but-"

John pressed his hand over her mouth, his fingers moving over his chin as he spoke. "Missy, Missy. Poor Missy. We know Michael isn't here. Foolish bastard signed on with Barbossa."

He dropped his hand and began to circle her.

"What?" Melissa felt numb. Her heart started to race, because Patrick only sent his sons out for one reason, and if Michael wasn't here…

"That's right, Missy. You dear, darling brother ran a rather high gambling debt, turned pirate and left you here all by yourself." He leaned in and whispered, "It's a hard thing, Missy, being abandoned. Left Behind. Forgotten."

Gently, he ran one finger down her neck but jerked away when Melissa made to slap him. He even had the gall to tisk her. "Now, now Missy." He grabbed both her arms and yanked them to her sides. "We don't want trouble. Just what you owe us."

"I don't owe you anything."

With a quick nod to Henry, John pushed her towards his stronger brother. To her horror, Melissa actually squeaked when he grabbed her waist firmly and lifted, like she was nothing. He carted her over to the chair and dropped her. She cried out, but was silenced once again when Henry gagged her, and Colin walked over, grabbing her hands before she could fight back. He forced them to her lap until Henry finished, then together they tired the rope around her thighs, under the chair and over her wrists. Wrapping and pulling until she couldn't wriggle free. Until the ropes bit into her skin and pinched.

John paced before her, looking concerned. "Now, I don't need to tell you Missy how much my father likes his payments on time. I don't need to scare you with the facts."

He looked around the room. The bare floors and the wooden candle sticks scarred by fire and wax. He nodded to himself. "Yes and I don't see anything of value here to bring the right price."

Slowly he turned and faced the fireplace. The room was dim, the coals hot but there wasn't much of a fire. Still, he picked up the poker and moved the ash, leaving the poker in the coals and dusted his hands.

"Yet, there must be something for your brother to see, and to remind you that no matter what," he crouched by the chair and yanked Melissa's head by her hair, "you two owe us a debt, Missy. And we always collect."

He hit her then, harder than Henry. Her neck cracked against the sudden force and her eyes watered. She shook with fear when she saw Colin at the door again, playing with a knife and leaning against the wood. Even if anyone heard her, even if anyone cared, they'd have to get through Colin. And there was no one like that for her. She'd die, maybe.

Or worse. She'd live.

Taking slow, measure steps, John walked back to the fireplace and picked up the poked. It wasn't red or anything, but she knew it would be hot. The coals were still white and ashen. John brought the metals close to her face, so she could feel the heat. It was dim, but it was there. She began to cry.

"Hush now, Missy. Hush like a brave girl. No, we won't touch your face. He ran his fingers back and forth across her cheeks, then swooped in and kissed her mouth, gag and all as she screamed.

"No, not your face." He placed the point of the poker right onto the back of her left hand and held it there as she screamed. "But your hands Missy, those are already rough. Those are already gone."

He lifted the poker and moved to her other hand. Missy screamed and rocked the chair to get away. It worked until she fell backwards, and then Henry was there to hold her as he traced each finger on her right hand, making crude lines on her flesh in red.

"Yes, this you will remember, Missy. This, not even Michael will forget."