Betsy sat on a bench in Hell's Kitchen Park. She broke up the last of her bagel and threw it to the pigeons. She was early for the meeting with Melvin, but couldn't stand another minute in her apartment. She pulled her coat closer around her body and pushed her hands under her arms.

Although Melvin didn't specify which park he wanted to meet in, Betsy figured her best bet was Hell's Kitchen Park. Melvin mentioned it on occasion during their sessions, it being one of the only places he felt safe at growing up.

The play equipment sat empty, a result of the cold weather and late hour. A group of boys entered the basketball court and started to play. She stared for a few minutes and noticed one of the boys leaning against the fence, watching her. She stared right back at him. He leisurely stood up and walked towards her.

"Are you Betsy?" He asked, standing an arms length away.

"Yes." She replied, eyebrows raised.

"I was told to deliver this to you for ten bucks." He pulled a note out of his jean pocket and handed it to her. A piece of lint fell out along with it and floated to the ground.

"Note? From who?"

"No idea. Huge bald guy. Said you'd give me ten bucks?" He held out his other hand, waiting for the cash.

"Oh, for Christ's sake," she seethed, digging in her purse. She pulled out a crumpled bill and slapped it in his hand. He handed her the note and saluted before walking away.

Betsy unfolded the note quickly and read the contents.

You are being watched. Catch up later. –M

Betsy gritted her teeth and looked up to question the boy but saw that he was gone, along with all of his friends. She balled up the note, stood up and walked over to a dumpster to throw it in. She glared at the cars parked along the road, searching for the detectives. When she didn't immediately see them she pulled her phone out of her purse along with Detective Yeager's business card. He answered on the second ring.

"Detective Yeager."

Betsy cleared her throat and tried to push the anger out of her voice. "Hi. This is Betsy Beatty. Are you following me?" She figured it was best to get right to it.

"No ma'am." The man said on the other line in a monotonous voice.

"Oh…what about your partner?" Betsy walked out of the park and headed home after checking the parked cars again.

"No ma'am. Do you think you're being followed?"

"Oh. No. It's just…nothing. Sorry to have bothered you." Betsy hung up before he could reply and stuffed the phone in her purse. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up.

It was getting darker by the minute. Betsy pulled her keys out and clutched them in her hand. She was still about seven blocks away from her apartment building. She quickened her pace and squeezed the handles of her purse. There were a few people out and about, but Betsy's instinct was to make it home as fast as she could. She turned her head slightly, listening for footsteps behind her. She could've sworn she heard someone in heavy boots. She managed a peak and saw a man several feet away. His hands were in his pockets and he wore a basketball cap.

Betsy weighed the pros and cons of calling Daredevil again. What if he took the occasional night off and was relaxing with a glass of Merlot? Betsy doubted the man ever took a break. She pulled her phone out again and found the number in her contact list.

"Yes?" He answered on the first ring. His voice was gravelly and Betsy couldn't hear any background noise. Much different from their first phone call.
"Hi. It's Betsy Beatty. Again. Um…are you busy?"

"What's wrong?" She had an image of him crouched on a rooftop somewhere.

"Look, it's probably nothing. Actually, I feel kind of silly now…"

"Betsy, what is it?"

"Well, I supposed to meet Melvin at the park tonight—"

"What park?"

"Uh—Hell's Kitchen Park?" He didn't immediately reply so she kept talking, the words bubbling out like a fountain. "He texted and asked me to meet him at the park. I figured it was Hell's Kitchen Park, because he always talked about Hell's Kitchen Park. Except that he didn't show. A kid gave me a note from Melvin that said I was being followed and that he'd meet me later. So now I'm feeling…paranoid."

The silence from the other end only lasted a few beats. "Where are you now?"

"Forty-fifth and ninth. Headed west."

"Good. Walk as fast as you can, I'm on my way." He hung up.

Betsy slowly put the phone away. She noted that the Devil of Hell's Kitchen was not one for small talk. She walked as fast as her legs would carry her, her new flats rubbing the back of her heels uncomfortably. It was dark now, and the few people that were out and about were mostly gone. Betsy saw a shop owner across the street locking his door. She debated walking over and asking if he'd walk with her. He seemed the type who would be more than happy to do so.

Just as she was about to cross the street, someone hooked an arm around her waist from behind and put a hand over her mouth. He pulled her into an alley, her heels dragging on the pavement. He smelled like cigarettes and cologne. She jabbed his leg with her keys, but he didn't seem to notice. He held her close and pushed her to her knees. He kneeled behind her.

"Now be a good girlie and don't scream." He took his hand off of her mouth. She screamed. He clamped his hand back over her mouth and cursed.

Betsy reached for the pepper spray in her purse. A lot of good it was doing her at the moment. He noticed this and pulled her back. He pulled a knife out of his pocket and pressed it to her neck. "I thought we could do this the easy way, but I do enjoy the hard way more," He dragged her further into the alley.

He made it about four steps before someone came up from behind and slammed his head into the brick wall. He immediately went limp and Betsy crawled away, trying to catch her breath. She felt a drop of blood snake down her neck. She wiped it away and slouched against the wall.

"I suppose late is better than ever," Her voice quivered and she squeezed her eyes shut. She did not want to see the creep who attacked her, even if he was unconscious.

"Betsy." A gruff voice whispered.

She knew that voice. She peered into the darkness and immediately sat up. "Melvin?"

He stood next to the unconscious man with a peculiar expression on his face. "I'm sorry," his voice shook and tears spilled out of his eyes.

Betsy immediately stood up and pulled him into a hug. He collapsed in her arms and they sunk to the ground. "You don't have anythg to be sorry for. You saved me, Melvin." He held her hard and she felt tears on her own face. She buried her face in his shoulder.

"I should've come earlier—but I thought he was a police officer—"

"It's OK, Melvin. I'm OK," she repeated. She felt safe for the first time in weeks.

The unconscious man began to stir. Melvin pushed Betsy away gently and pulled the man into a sitting position. Melvin's entire demeanor changed. He became cold and Betsy saw that he was shaking. She backed away a bit more. Melvin kneeled in front of the man.

The man moaned and opened his eyes. He saw Melvin and smirked. "So, you found—"

"Why did you attack Betsy?" Melvin slowly gathered the man's shirt in his fists.

"Who's Betsy?"

Melvin put his face close to the man's. "I'll give you another chance."

The man sniffed and tried to sit up. Melvin didn't let him. Betsy wondered if the man had a death wish.

He stared defiantly at Melvin. Melvin wrapped a hand around the man's throat and slammed him against the ground in one swift movement.

"Why did you attack Betsy?" Melvin asked again with gritted teeth.

The man was still silent. Melvin straddled him and began punching. Betsy crouched down, pressed her back against the wall and hugged her knees. The wet, crunchy sound was too much to bear. Melvin didn't stop hitting him, even when the man tried to speak.

Betsy saw movement out of the corner of her eye. She turned and saw Daredevil. He was observing the fight but walked to Betsy and kneeled.

"What happened?" He asked softly.

"You have to stop Melvin," Betsy pleaded with a trembling voice. "He's going to kill him."

As if that spurred the vigilante into action, Daredevil rushed to Melvin and seized his raised fist before he could land another punch on the man's bloody face. Melvin grunted but didn't resist too much. Daredevil pulled him off the man and pushed him away. Melvin was breathing hard.

The man on the ground rolled to his side. "Bont, it was Bont's idea," he said with a wet, rattling voice.

Melvin froze. Sweat poured off his face and blood trickled from his hands. "What did you say?"

The man went silent and motionless. This time it was Daredevil who grabbed the man's shirt and pushed him up against the wall.

"He asked you a question." His voice was quiet and steely.

The man took a few breaths. "He hates Potter. Hates him for quitting. Hates that he worked for Fisk. He wants Potter dead." He spit some blood out. "That's why the train was blown up. Was supposed to be dramatic and send a message. But Potter got off too soon." The man laughed. It made Betsy cringe.

Daredevil delivered a quick punch and the man was out again. He slumped to the ground. Daredevil backed up a few steps and looked to Melvin and Betsy. Melvin was still frozen in place, staring at the ground. Betsy was still sat against the wall, hugging her knees.

"Who the hell is Bont?" Daredevil asked.