Two

As soon as they heard the soft cartoon voices from the television, the man released her. Bellamy spun to face him, rubbing out the tightness in her should. His face was hard and sharp. High cheekbones perched on either side of a nose that had clearly been broken one too many times and incredibly deep set and dark eyes, made for a hell of an intimidating look. Not to mention the bruises that lined her jaw. His features weren't the scariest thing about him. No, that award went to his size. Bellamy had never considered herself small, but she was absolutely dwarfed by this man. He towered over her with wide, ominous shoulders and a body so completely covered with muscles that her body shook with the thought the pain he could inflict.

"What do you want?" she asked, wasting no time.

"The list." he said simply.

"The list." she repeated as she shook her head. "What list? I don't…"

"Ah come on now, don't try to feed me that bullshit." she gave him an incredulous look. This all has to be a huge mistake.

"Look, I swear to God, I have no clue what you're talking about." As she spoke, he was shaking his own head and pulling something from his pocket. Bellamy tensed, unsure of what he was reaching for, but settled when she saw it was just a piece of paper. No, it was a photo.

"See this?" He held the picture up to her face. She recognized herself immediately. It was a shot of her on a security camera from the convenient store around the corner. She stopped there almost daily for a coffee on her way to work. It was hard to tell how recently it was captured, but it didn't really matter. He shoved it into her palm.

"Where did you get this?" she realized off handedly that her hands were shaking.

"The real question is, why are you still lying to me?" he cocked his head, challenging her.

"I told you," she said, her voice raising slightly, but not enough to alarm Miya. "I don't…"

"Yeah, you don't know anything." he cut her off. "But this right here," he grabbed the wrist of the hand holding the photo and brought it up eye level. "This picture was sent to every big time dealer in the city." He gave her second, waiting for something to make sense. When she showed no signs of understanding, he continued. "This picture along with a message saying that you held the list of names. Their names."

"They think I have this list, and that I'm going to release it? To the police?" Her eyes widened, finally grasping the seriousness. "That's ridiculous." a laugh bubbled past her lips.

"Bullshit." he spat. For the first time she noticed specks of blood that were splattered across the side of his face. Was it his? "You know who sent this around? You little boyfriend, Jimmy." he answered his own question.

"Jimmy?" she whispered. She hadn't seen Jimmy Kelley in over a year. "Jimmy's…"

"Dead." he finished.

"He's dead?" she asked blankly.

"You don't seem too broken up about it." he was studying her face, making her uncomfortable with the scrutiny.

"Broken up? After all the shit he put me through?" she cracked an almost evil smile. "After all the shit he let them do to me? No, I'm not broken up. I'm glad he's dead." She surprised even herself with this honesty and cruelty. "I hope it hurt."

"It did." he answered after a long pause. Her eyes met his. Had he seen it happen? Or had he been the one to do it? That blood on his face answered the question for her. "He sent this out before he died. Now why would he do this if it wasn't true, huh?"

"Aunt Bell." Miya's little voice called from the next room. Bellamy ignored it and answered the man's question.

"Because that's how Jimmy is. Was." She corrected. "Always liked to get the last laugh, and what better way to screw me over from the grave then to send every gang and drug runner in New York after me." Her hands were balled into tight fists.

"Nah," he shook his head. "This isn't a game. You've got it."

"Fuck you." She shot at him. Their eyes locked, set in a standoff. There was nothing else she would be able to do to convince this guy he was wrong.

"Aunt Bell!" Miya called again. Without taking her own dark eyes off his, she hollered back.

"Yeah baby, what is it?"

"There's lights on the wall!" She announced cheerfully. Bellamy knitted her brows together in confusion.

"Lights on the wall?" She whispered before turning to see what Miya was talking about. There were in fact, three little red lights dancing on the wall by the TV. The instant she saw them, was when the man behind her yelled.

"Get down!" As the words left his lips gunfire rang out. He dove on top of Bellamy, forcing her to the ground. Bullets cut through the thin apartment walls as if they were butter. When a stray bullet hit the tv, sparks streamed over the floor like fireworks.

Bellamy lifted her head enough to find Miya screaming on the couch and covering her ears. Then, to her horror, the girl jumped off the couch. She was coming towards them, right through the blazing path of the bullets. Before she had time to react, the man launched himself at the girl, completely cover her small body with his own. Bellamy felt relief surge through her. She army crawled her way to them and slipped her hand underneath him to find Miya's tremble fingers. She squeezed, letting the girl know she was with her.

When the shots finally ceased, the man picked himself up but remained crouched.

"Up, up." He ushered them to a similar position as his own. "Go, stay low." Bellamy, arm hooked around Miya's waist, hurried towards the door. "There a basement in this place?"

"Uh, yeah, yeah there is." Bellamy looked Miya over. Blood covered the front of her pink shirt. But before Bellamy had time to panic, he spoke out.

"It's mine. She's fine." He pushed her towards the door and around the corner. Once the windows of her apartment were out of sight, he stood up straight. "Go to the basement. Stay there until I come get you." The neighbors were screaming and shouting, babies crying, alarms going off. Bellamy blinked several times, not fullying hearing the words falling from his mouth. Her eyes flicked down to Miya, who she had a death grip hold on.

Fingers grabbed onto Bellamy's chin and forced her face up, forced her eyes to his. She tried to pull back, but his grip was too strong.

"Basement. Go." he let go and nudged her towards the stairwell. She heard him this time and responded accordingly. She lugged Miya up into her arms and took off down the stairs.

Four flights, she just had to make it down four flights and then she could allow herself to take a breath. The basement was exactly what you'd expect from an old musty apartment building. Damp, dark, cold and filled with people's useless shit they were too lazy to bring to the dumpster. She pressed Miya between herself and one of the cement walls, admittedly she was probably suffocating the four year old.

Bellamy's heart raced as she fumbled for a plan. He said to stay here and wait for him. But why the hell would she do that? Minutes ago he had broken into her home, manhandled her, threatened her, and nearly ripped her arm from it's socket. He wanted the same thing the shooters did. How did she know he wouldn't pull a gun on her? How did she know he wouldn't hurt Miya to get answers from Bellamy? How did she know he wasn't with the shooters?

It's mine he'd said when Miya's blood stained shirt almost threw Bellamy into a fit. She patted the girl on the head and she looked up.

"Are you hurt?" Bellamy asked nervously. Miya shook her head, tears still freely streaming down her cheeks. It made her heart shatter. This poor innocent little girl was terrified, experiencing things no child should ever have to be a part of. She would be traumatized for the rest of her life.

But she wouldn't be dead. She wouldn't have physical scars to remind her of this night. Bellamy's left thigh muscle began to twitch from her own bad memories. She could imagine the long pink scar that graced her otherwise smooth skin. Yeah, at least Miya wouldn't have that.

He'd jumped over her. Had he been shot? Is that where the blood came from? She tried to fit his actions into her theories. But how would saving Miya do him any good if it were his partners shooting through the window? Maybe, this was his way of gaining her trust. Maybe, his plan was to get close and then torture her for information. Information she didn't have.

"Come on." Bellamy whispered down to Miya a few minutes later. She couldn't wait for him. She shouldn't wait for him. She had to protect Miya, and trusting the man who broke into her home and attacked her is NOT the way to do it.

With Miya holding onto the back of Bellamy's shirt, she slowly and cautiously made her way towards the exit. Where she'd go, she had no idea. But they were sitting ducks in that basement. The police station was only a few blocks away. They could make it.

She paused halfway up the stairs. There was only one functional exit to the old building, and it opened up facing the main street. They could be waiting for her. But when Bellamy heard the rush of voices and footsteps from her terrified neighbors, she pushed Miya out into the crowd. They could blend right in and go unnoticed by the gunmen.

She followed the throng of people, moving hurriedly among them towards the direction of the police station. Far off she could hear sirens as they responded to the shots and panic. Suddenly, a hand appeared and grabbed her just above the elbow.

"Just keep walking." The familiar voice said, applying just enough pressure to remind her that she couldn't break free of his grip. He pulled her closer to his side, trying to act as though he were a concerned protector to those who scrambled by. She could feel the gun stuck in the waistband near his hip but she didn't dare go for it. Miya was lodged in between them and when Bellamy peered down, she saw his hand splayed over the girl's back, coaxing her along with them.

"Just let us go." She said loudly enough for him to hear over the clatter but low enough so no one else could hear. She was afraid of what he'd do if she were to cause a scene.

"Get in the truck." He commanded, opening the passenger door of a black truck parked on the corner. Without hesitation, he hoisted Miya up by the underarms and set her down in the middle of the bench seat. He held the door, waiting for Bellamy to follow the child in. "Move." His voice was low and impatient, warning her not to argue. By the time she climbed in to grab Miya, he was already settling into the driver's seat. She thought about trying to jump back onto the sidewalk, but the truck was speeding off, door still open.

"You have to take us to the police." Bellamy tried to appeal to him. "You haven't hurt us, you technically saved Miya's life. I can't repay you but I can promise that I won't even mention you to them." She was begging and she hated it. He ignored the pleas. "Please, I have nothing. I would have given it to you by now! Just let me go to the police!"

His head snapped to the side, dark eyes boring into hers. He shoved a hand into the pocket of jeans, pulled something out and threw onto Bellamy's lap. She picked it up to examine.

A badge.

"Pulled it off the shooter." He said, digging back into his pocket. "Along with this." He held the picture up for her to see. It was the same one he'd shown her in the apartment. No, not the same, it was another copy. The one he'd handed her upstairs was tucked away in her own pocket.

"I don't…" She trailed off, shaking her head in confusion.

"That list," his eyes darted between the rearview and side mirrors. "names a lot of dirty cops." He finished. "They want you dead as much as the scum gang members. Only difference is, cops are smarter. They're quieter, they're sneaky, and they'll plant the evidence." He pulled off to the side of and abandoned back alley. "Now maybe if it were just you, you'd take the chance and March right into the NYPD, without knowing which ones are dirty. A real risk taker, yeah? But it's not just you." He glanced down at the top of Miya's head. "You don't look like a stupid girl to me." Miya looked up at Bellamy with wide eyes. Stupid was the newest word Miya had added to her vocabulary and had been scolded every single time she was caught saying it. The look in her eyes told Bellamy she was waiting for her to yell at the man. There was a long stretch of silence that settled over the truck.

"Where are you taking us?" she finally asked in a whisper, afraid to learn the answer.

"I've got a place." he gruffed back. "Off the grid." She nodded, wheels turning in her brain. Did she have another option? Open the door and dive out, pray that it didn't kill her and Miya. Go with him and hope he doesn't kill them himself. She thought of the hard feel of the gun she'd felt when he'd pulled her into him before.

"Did you kill them?" she asked suddenly. She shook the police badge in her hand, helping him understand her question.

"Yeah." The blunt answer should have scared her, but she felt more relief than anything.

"Where are we going?" Miya asked, her small voice drawing both of their attention. Bellamy offered her the best smile she could muster.

"Some place safe, baby?" she said, planting a kiss on the crown of her head. She prayed that she hadn't just lied.