Hey!

So, only one person reviewed! Sad face. :(

Hopefully this time more people will. Thanks to those who are reading this and a special thanks to I. Will. Fight. For. You. My. Fang. Your awesome!

In this chapter you will learn more about Max's past and will meet my personal favourite character.

So enjoy!

Disclaimer. I love you JP and I will never steal anything from you. :)

Chapter 2 – A meeting

Max POV

I Almost screamed. Almost. The man's hand tightened on my wrist.

They found me. They finally found me. Jeb's men.

I look at the hand on mine for a moment before grabbing it and bending it backwards off my wrist until I heard a sharp crack. He stepped fully out of the vehicle and towered over me menacingly. Well what he thought was menacing. Really he just looked sad cradling his broken hand. I just looked straight back at him waiting for him to make the first move.

Sure enough within seconds his closed fist swung for my head. I, in turn, side stepped and threw a roundhouse kick at him so hard it made him almost fall over. To anyone smaller that would've knocked them out. But being hulk as he was, he composed himself and came at me again.

He tried to side kick my head but I ducked and instead plumbed his stomach, making him move back until he tripped and fell knocking his head and blacking out. Five men came out of the car. Eyes bloodthirsty. Wanting to get me. I can take down someone if I want to. As I just demonstrated. But not all of these men, well, not all at once.

But I am determined and all I did was smirked as they cracked their knuckles threateningly at me. One stepped forward at me and took a shot. I side stepped to my right just as another one swung and hit my nose I heard a crack and new it was broken. I couldn't give a dam that blood was pouring down my face and seeping into my already rain soaked shirt. The man on my right grabbed me and held me in a suffocatingly tight head lock. He shifted slightly, however, giving me room to smash his knee cap. He fell to the ground with a stuffed cry of agony.

One down four to go. One advanced at me pulling out of his pocket a knife. I dodged another's punch only to trip over the first mans unconscious body. I fell and with a sickening crack from my ribs I lay face down on the muddy concrete. The man with the knife came at me and I scrambled back but a man came up behind me and pinned me down. The man with the knife raised it and was about to stab me in the stomach when out of no where a boot kicks the knife from the man's hands.

I look up at my Saviour. He was the boy who had sat on the curve all dressed in black. He turned and looked at the man who pinned me to the Gray cement and smashed his boot against his face freeing me. I immediately jumped to my feet only to be knocked over again by the man who once held the knife. I was covered in mud from next to the path. It covered me like a brown mask. Once again, he made and advance but the boy dressed in black tackled him. The remaining two men tried to grab me but I took the mud's natural slipperiness to catapult through one man's knees bowling him over. And continued to smash my fist against his ruff, ugly and, now, bloody face. Holding nothing back.

He was soon out cold and it was just me fighting the last guy. I soon over powered him and he soon joined his friends on the ground bloody and unconscious. The boy I noticed also just disposed of the knife guy. And he came over to me.

I didn't know weather to thank him, run away from him, hug him, check if he was all right or hit him. Turns out I didn't need to do anything.

"Bastard's." He said spitting blood from his mouth.

"You can say that again." I said looking around at the carnage the six men and us had caused.

"You okay?" He asked looking at me with the darkest eyes I have ever seen in my life. They were black perfectly matching his clothing and, as I just noticed, his hair.

"Yeah, few broken ribs and broken nose. You?"

"Fine part from a black eye and broken ribs." He looked around at the men with his dark eyes before saying. "Think we better get outta here."

I had to say I was shocked, he didn't even ask me who they were and why they were here. Not even if I wanted to call the police.

"Yeah we should." I hesitated. I can't just leave him broken and bleeding. "You want to come home with me. Get some dry clothes and get cleaned up?" It occurred to me just then that I didn't even know him and this was the nicest I have ever been to a stranger in my life.

"If you wouldn't mind. My sister will be home and I don't really want her seeing me like this." He said quietly, face completely plastered.

"Okay. We should hurry." I noticed one of the men stirring. He noticed it too and indicated with his shoulder for me to lead the way.

I started of in the direction of my house the black haired boy walking next to me. We walked in complete silence. However you might think it was awkward, it wasn't. It was actually quite nice. And I was glad he wasn't pressing me about the men so I was in a pretty good mood. Well, as greater mood as someone who just had to escape from six creepy men can be.

We reached by my house and walked up onto the porch and I pulled the key from my pocket and unlocked the door and stepped out of the freezing rain, black haired boy following. I took of my soaking shoes and he followed my lead stripping down to his bear olive feet. I, then, led him to the laundry and forced a blue towel on him.

We walked back into the lounge room and I sunk into the couch trying to dry my hair.

"Err I hate him so much." I said into the towel. I looked up to see the boy looking at me one eye brow raised and curious.

"The man who sent them." I cleared up for him. "Do you want fist aid first or hot chocolate.

He gave me a small half smile and said, "We'll do hot chocolate first. Just because I like hot chocolate and I can tell you do as well." My eyes widened at him. How did he know that?

He shrugged as if to say, I dunno really. How weird. We were having a conversation without speaking. Creepy. I got up and walked into the kitchen getting out the chocolate and boiling the water.

Fang's POV

"Shit." I heard the girl swear from the kitchen where she had gone to make our hot chocolate. And I saw her eyes closed looking annoyed and burned because she dropped the kettle of water on herself.

I walked over quietly and stood next to her. Looking at her silently where she had burn marks down her arm from the kettle. They were red and angry and I could tell she was in pain. So I walked over to the sink ran the water on a sponge and genitally put it over her burns letting the water run down and around her arm as I slowly squeezed the sponge. Her eyes snapped open to stare at me.

"What?" I asked quietly, still applying gentle pressure to her burnt arm.

"What are you doing?" She asked brown eyes still staring at my black ones.

"Trying to help you." I said in reply. Was she slow or what.

"Why?"

"Because you hurt yourself. Why shouldn't I help you? Is there a problem."

"No. It's just... no one has ever helped me or taken care or me before." She said in a small voice. So she's not slow just scared. Poor girl.

"Here hold this. Where is that first aid kit?" I asked.

I don't understand why am helping her. It's just that I can't help it. I don't even know her and yet I feel protective of her. Weird.

I don't even know why I intervened in the first place I just saw her walking before she was sprung on by a man and thought I better see what was going on. It might be because she is beautiful, or that I don't believe in men hitting women or maybe I am just insane. All I know is I got up walked over to her and the man who was holding the knife over her and kicked it out of his hand then told him never to hurt her again.

"In the bath room, under the sink." She nodded to the white door that was situated to the left of the laundry door.

I went and got it. Bringing it to the lounge room. Finding her now sitting on the brown couch. The house felt sad and unlived in. It was sought of depressing.

"Hold out your arm." I instructed. Opening the green box that had I white cross on the top. I pulled from it the burns cream and unscrewed the lid. I then took her arm in my fingers and as genitally as I could tried to lift the sponge. Only problem was she wouldn't let me. What the hell. I raised an eye brow. She looked tentative but lifted the sponge. I used my towel to genitally wipe the water from her pale burnt arm.

I put some white cream on her arm when I noticed them. Scars. Old Scares. All horizontal along her arm. That's what she was afraid of me seeing. Scars. I looked up into her eyes she was still however looking at the scars, and I noticed how they seemed to be torching her just by being there.

I slowly started to rub the cream on them careful not to cause her any more pain from the ones in her nose, ribs and burnt arm and of course the pain in her torched, beautiful, brown eyes. I wrapped her arm in a bandage then looked at her but she didn't seem to notice what I was doing just staring off into the distance.

I started to treat her nose and, when I was done, my eye. She seemed to be lost in her thoughts not looking at what I was doing.

I didn't mean to say it but I did "What are the scares from?"

Her head snapped up and looked at me, mad, for a moment, before she replied in a tiny voice, "My pocket knife."

And then it hit, me they were all perfectly spaced, all going the same direction at nearly the same starting place all because of one reason. All because she had done it to herself. She was so tortured she cut herself.

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In the next chapter – Learning about Fang and Max and Fang's relationship grows.