It was like she was being burned with the blowtorch all over again.

Alexia's hands were clamped to her face. Tears and muffled screams escaped through closed fingers as Doctor Patel applied some disinfecting ointment to her burn – silver sulfadiazine. To Alexia though, it may as well have been acid.

"I know, hon, it hurts like hell," said the doctor. "But this'll keep it from getting infected."

"I-I understand…" Alexia yelped as Doctor Patel applied non-stick bandages to the two burns on her stomach, then quickly secured them with medical tape.

"Now, you need to change these out at least once a day," Doctor Patel said, her voice stern. "Also, sleep with a pillow under your back for at least a week. That'll keep the area elevated and hopefully keep swelling to a minimum."

Alexia nodded meekly as she let down her shirt. Her left hand sat limply by her side; it had also been wrapped in a protective covering of white bandages. The wounds on her knuckles had taken ten stitches to close, but this at least hadn't hurt, since they'd numbed her hand before stitching her up.

She looked to her right. Jess was sitting in a chair next to the examination table, an encouraging smile on her face. Alexia and Damien had run into her at Sandy Shores Airfield, and after learning what had happened to them, she'd immediately offered a flight back to the compound in one of the Skulls' helicopters.

"You did good, Lexi," Jess said, clapping her on the shoulder.

"Th-thanks, Jess."

Alexia sniffed, wiping a couple of stray tears from her eyes. According to Doctor Patel, the wounds on her stomach were second-degree burns. They hurt like a nuclear sunburn, and most discouragingly, they would need at least a week or two to heal.

"So, doc, do you think we could do some light training while she recovers?" Jess asked. She'd taken on a motherly role during the visit, doing all of the talking so her injured friend wouldn't have to.

"Her wounds are gonna need time to heal, Jess," said Doctor Patel. "Now, she's got youth on her side, so she should heal relatively fast. But those burns are gonna ooze and itch, and exercise will just irritate them more. And there are also the stitches on her hand. Those are gonna need at least a few days to heal up."

"Damn…" Jess frowned. "I'm sorry, Lexi. Maybe we could talk to your uncle, see what he can do?"

Alexia didn't know what to think. On one hand, she knew her uncle would probably just be glad she was alive and safe. But on the other hand, this delay in her sniper training would only add to the crew's troubles, at a time when they already had enough of them to go around.

She exhaled, leaning back in her bed. There was only one upside to any of this, that being the van full of weed she and Damien had stolen from the Roses' farm. As soon as Jess had seen the plastic-wrapped cargo, her face had lit up in a mischievous grin. She'd informed them that, once it was trafficked and sold, both of them would receive a substantial cut of the profits.

That should at least help me replace all my weapons, Alexia thought. But if I want to provide for my brothers, I'll need more.

As she lied in her bed, mulling over what she should do, a man with an assault rifle on his back strolled into the clinic. She recognized him: Rodney, one of her uncle's bodyguards.

"Hey, Alexia," he said gently. "How you feeling, kid?"

Alexia smiled and shook her head. "I-I've been better."

"Well, this might lift your spirits: your uncle's coming down to see you. He wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Oh, well, I guess I'd better be going, then." Jess quickly stood up, grabbing her purse from the table beside Alexia's bed. "Lexi, you take care of yourself, okay? I'll see you later."

"Bye, Jess."

The two friends shared a hug before Jess walked out of the clinic. As she left, concern spread through Alexia's body. She'd noticed something during the visit: rings of dark skin under her friend's eyes, sweat sheening her forehead, a quiet breathiness to her voice. At this point, she knew something was going on with Jess, but she didn't know what.

Maybe she's just tired, Alexia thought. She said she has a lot more responsibility now.

Considering this, Alexia debated broaching the subject, or if she should just leave it alone. After all, she and Jess had only known each other a few days. They'd been getting along, but that wasn't enough time to know someone truly well.

Regardless, Alexia hoped her new friend was alright. She decided to send Jess a text later simply asking if she was okay. The way she saw it, that was unlikely to start a fight with someone as kind and understanding as Jess.

A few moments passed before a tall, dark figure lumbered into the clinic. Seeing him next to Doctor Patel and the nursed, and even next to his muscular bodyguard, only reinforced how gigantic her uncle was.

"Hello, sir," said Doctor Patel, smiling up at him.

Remus tipped his hat to her. "How is she?"

"She's getting there. We disinfected those burns and stitched up her hand . She's got a long way to go, but…well, you know those Roses. It could've been a lot worse."

"Definitely…" Remus nodded slowly. "You mind giving us a minute, doctor?"

"Certainly, sir."

Doctor Patel bowed as she left them to go check on another patient. Rodney did the same, exiting the clinic so he could guard the entrance.

Remus huffed as he settled into the chair beside Alexia's bed. His joints, as always, pained him greatly, but he looked like he was trying to ignore this pain for the sake of his niece.

"H-Hey, uncle," she said quietly, a faint smile on her face.

"Alexia." Remus smiled back at her. "You feeling okay?"

"I wouldn't say that…" She grunted, putting a hand on her stomach. "But I think I'll make it."

"You've always been my brave girl," said Remus, squeezing her shoulder. "Damien told me what happened, of course. He also told me that you didn't give any information to those bastards – not even your name."

Alexia shook her head. "They should've asked a little nicer."

Remus chuckled. "Well, 'nice' is something they don't do so well…Listen, I hate to ask this, but those guys didn't…assault you or anything, did they? I asked Damien, and he was kind of evasive about it, so I wanted to make sure."

"No, nothing like that." Alexia swallowed. "But, uhm…well, they took my shirt off-"

"I'll fucking kill them!"

Remus slammed his hands on his knees and rose from his chair, his face contorted with rage. Alexia reached out a hand to stop him.

"Uncle, wait!"

"I can't wait, Lex. Here's what I'll do: I'm gonna capture everyone at that farm, bring them here, hang them up by their ankles, and then let you go to town on them with a welding torch. How's that sound?"

"I…"

"See, that's the way to do it, Lex," he informed her. "If you hang them upside-down, all the blood goes to their head, and that keeps them from passing out. They'll feel every ounce if skin melting and…" Remus stopped himself. "I'm sorry, Lex, I…I got a little ahead of myself."

Remus sat down, his eyes looking away in embarrassment. Alexia's hands trembled as they gripped the blanket on her hospital bed, bringing it up to her chin.

I don't remember him being so…enthusiastic about torture.

Alexia knew that her uncle tortured people, in part to maintain his fearsome reputation among the other gangs. But whenever he'd recounted his own torture by the Viet Cong, her uncle had done so in a somber, reflective manner, punctuated by frequent shudders and graphic descriptions of what they'd done to him. Based on his wartime experiences, part of her had hoped that he saw torture as a gruesome necessity, not something to derive joy from.

However, she realized if she were in his position, if another gang had just tortured her niece, that she would want to make an example out of them, too. She took a deep breath, looking seriously at the tall, gaunt man sitting beside her bed.

"Look, uncle, I…I'm not gonna pretend I don't hate those Roses for what they did to me…But if you're gonna ask me what I want, I don't wanna torture them. I just want them eliminated so they can't threaten the crew anymore."

"Of course." Remus nodded slowly. "I've sent a hit squad to the farm already. If they see anyone there, they'll know to kill, not capture."

Alexia smiled briefly. As much as she disliked killing, she resented those Roses for what they'd done to her, Damien, and probably countless other people in that torture shed. She may have killed Napalm, the main torturer, but everyone at that farm had known what was going on. All of them, Alastor Mason included, would have to pay for their crimes against the Skulls.

She remembered what she'd promised Damien while they were chained up, waiting to be tortured. She looked quickly up at Remus.

"Uncle…You're not gonna punish Damien for this, are you? I mean, it's not really his fault we got captured."

"I've spoken to Damien already," said Remus. "He agreed that he should have been more careful, considering the state of things right now. I mean, he brought you out to the Highlands, in the middle of a gang war, without telling anyone where he was going or having a backup plan. It was reckless, and I let him know just how reckless it was."

Remus's voice hardened as he said this. He was trying to hide it, but Alexia could tell right away that he was pissed.

Alexia gulped. She knew how protective her uncle could be of her, but she didn't want Damien to pay the price – she hoped beyond hope that he hadn't done anything drastic already out of anger.

"Y-Yeah, but we were pretty well-armed," she countered quickly. "Besides, Damien told me nothing's really out that way besides wildlife."

"Not quite. That whole area's used by drug traffickers, Lex," Remus informed her. "All those secluded beaches are a great place to gather and collect shipments, mostly from Mexico and Central America. The cartels, they make great use of the isolation out there to conduct their business."

Alexia's eyes lowered. "Oh, well, I guess that makes sense…But still, we probably could've handled a few cartel members. We just weren't expecting to see a fighter jet out there."

Remus paused, raising an eyebrow. "You're…defending Damien?" he asked. "Despite everything that happened to you?"

She nodded simply. "Yeah. I am."

She debated telling her uncle that she and Damien were now dating. It still felt surreal to her that she was actually dating someone, especially someone as handsome and kind as Damien. The concept was so novel, in fact, that she had no idea how to bring it up to her uncle, as they'd never really discussed romance before.

However, she really did like Damien, and she now knew that he liked her back. The way Alexia saw it, she'd captured lightning in a bottle; she didn't know if she'd get lucky like this again.

"Uncle…Damien's a good guy," she said carefully. "He's been a great help to me since I've been here. I...I don't want him to be kicked out of the Skulls for this."

"Well, I…wasn't gonna do that," said Remus, who looked at her like she'd bumped her head. "However, he did make a mistake – a big one. And now you're out of commission for how long?"

"One or two weeks, the doctor said."

"So one or two weeks of not working." Remus shook his head. "Look, he and I talked, and we think it's only fair that he pays to replace all of your money and weapons…Look, Lex, Damien's one of my best men. But that being said, even the most elite soldiers can screw up. It just so happened that his first major screw-up in a while involved you."

Alexia leaned back in bed, taking a moment to digest this. Damien had already spent thousands of dollars on her at Ammu-Nation the previous day. Somehow, the idea of someone spending so much cash on her felt wrong, even if she knew that she desperately needed the money.

"And Damien…agreed to do that for me?" she asked.

Remus nodded. "He felt it was the right thing to do. It's not a punishment from me, Lex – it's simply him feeling guilty and wanting to make things right with you."

"Well, I told him already that I didn't blame him…"

"There's no convincing him otherwise, I'm afraid." Remus smiled. "If I were you, Lex, I'd take the money – if nothing else, it'll put his mind at ease."

"Well, alright…" Alexia sighed. "But I'll try not to get myself captured again."

"It's not very fun, is it?"

Alexia smiled and shook her head. There was a moment of silent understanding between uncle and niece – Remus, a prisoner-of-war in Vietnam, and Alexia, a criminal who'd been tortured by a rival gang. The actual torture had lasted less than a minute, but to Alexia, that minute was more than enough. She hoped desperately that she wouldn't have to face that kind of white-hot, burning agony again.

Remus rubbed his niece's shoulder. "Well, once you become a sniper, you'll be a hell of a lot harder to catch. Our snipers are like ghosts, you know – in and out."

"Kinda like Damien then…"

"Exactly." Remus nodded proudly. "He told me you were a natural with a sniper rifle, by the way. In fact, he recommended I let you skip sniper training, but…well, being a sniper's more than just shooting good, Lex. You know that."

"Right…" Alexia nodded, remembering how Jess had told her that snipers were fully self-sufficient and, above all, physically fit.

"I'm gonna go ahead and train the rest of the snipers next week," her uncle continued. "There are five guys in that group, and you were gonna be the sixth. However, what usually happens is that one or two guys flunk out of training, so that'll still leave a spot open for you, if you're interested."

"Of course I am…" Alexia smiled weakly. "Any way I could help out around here while I recover?"

"Hmm." Remus scratched his chin. "Reese was telling me he needed some help with his money laundering business. You think you'd be up for that?"

"Well, maybe, but…" She shifted in her bed, looking away from him. "I don't think Reese…likes me very much."

"Baby, that street race is water under the bridge," said Remus. "I think you should go talk to him, ask if you can help out. That couldn't hurt, right?"

"I-I guess not…"

Alexia was hesitant to do this. Simply put, Reese scared her – not only was he incredibly rude, but Alexia could tell that, if she weren't the boss's niece, he probably would have kicked her ass by this point. He had said to her that anyone who messed with the Skulls' profits were usually tortured.

Forget him, part of her said. He's just a crybaby who pissed his pants…Even I didn't do that on my first job.

This sentiment filled her nerves with a bit more courage. She gripped her bedsheet, looking up at her uncle.

"Alright then," she said. "I'll go talk to him."

Remus held out his arms; Alexia smiled as she sat up in bed and hugged him, resting her head in the crook of his shoulder.

She closed her eyes, losing herself in the smell of his smoke-scented jacket. Neither of them spoke. Instead, Remus held his niece tight, and Alexia could tell he was trying to restrain tears. She found herself going misty-eyed as well, knowing how much her uncle loved her, and how glad he was that she was alive and safe. She buried her head deeper into his jacket as he petted her hair.

"Words can't express how proud of you I am," Remus said "Listen, one of these days, we should get out and do something. I sometimes have one of the guys drive me around the city in an armored car, so I can get some fresh air – maybe you can join me some time, and we can pick up some lunch, or something?"

"Y-Yeah, I'd love that."

Alexia smiled; she hadn't expected this from her uncle. By all accounts, Remus was a recluse, rarely leaving the compound due to the threat of assassination. However, she supposed even the most hardcore recluses couldn't stay shut up forever.

Warmth spread through Alexia's body as her uncle planted a kiss on the top of her head.

"I love you, Lex," said Remus. "You need anything, just give me a call, okay?"

"I will, uncle…"

Alexia was bubbling over with happiness; it was like she was ten years old all over again. When she was around her uncle, Alexia felt safe, accepted. This was in stark contrast to when she was alone, when her anxious thoughts would creep up on her and wreak havoc on her psyche, telling her she didn't deserve to be loved by anyone.

Alexia's eyes followed him as he strode out of the clinic, accompanied closely by his bodyguard. To most everyone else, Remus was a killer, a monster, a notorious drug lord. But despite knowing what he did for a living, Alexia was incapable of seeing him as anything other than her loving uncle. And in ten years' time, very little had changed, besides the fact that he wanted her to succeed him as crew leader.

I still don't think I can lead the crew, she thought. But money laundering?...Well, I've always been good at math. And besides, I wanna make myself useful while my burns heal.

Doctor Patel was a few beds away, sewing up the hand of another injured Skull. Alexia waved to get her attention.

"What you need, hon?" the doctor asked.

"I-I need to talk to your husband," said Alexia, remembering that Reese and Doctor Patel were married. "Does he have an office around here?"

"Sure – twenty-sixth floor, first door on the left."

Alexia smiled. "Th-thank you."

"You're welcome, sweetie. Remember, once a day on those bandages, okay?"

"Got it."

"Also, maybe get you something to eat before you talk to him." The doctor smirked. "I'd recommend a burger. You're five pounds underweight, y'know."

Alexia smiled back, her cheeks reddening. "Alright, I-I'll consider that."

She stood up from the hospital bed, walking with light steps out of the clinic. As she walked, the wounds on her stomach continued to burn, all while her left hand hung uselessly by her side. She didn't know how useful she would be to Reese's money-laundering efforts with her injuries, but the way she saw it, it couldn't hurt to at least offer her assistance.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the ravenous howling of her stomach; she hadn't eaten anything since yesterday, and what little she had eaten had been vomited into the LS River. Remembering the doctor's advice, Alexia made towards the exit with her phone in hand, scanning the Internet for restaurants within walking distance.

Reese's office wasn't hard to find. Her hands balled into fists as she knocked on the heavy oak door, her breath frozen in her chest.

"What?" an impatient voice called from within.

Alexia winced at the acid in his voice. Steeling herself against her nerves, Alexia creaked the office door open. Immediately, she was greeted by the sight of a sleek, modern office, second only to her uncle's in terms of opulence. A black oak desk sat at the far window, behind which Reese sat, silhouetted by a magnificent view of Los Santos through a wall of plexiglass windows. The breath left Alexia's chest as she took in the view, but it was quickly soured by Reese, who frowned at her behind his desk.

"Oh. It's you."

"A-Allegedly." Alexia gulped; her shyly-delivered attempt at a joke hadn't landed, as Reese wasn't laughing. "M-My uncle told me you might need some help?"

"Yeahhh, he called ahead, told me you'd be stopping by. Come on in, and shut the door."

Alexia nodded, shutting the door gently behind her before walking down a few carpeted steps toward Reese's desk. With the same pout on his face, he motioned for her to take a seat. She sank into a soft black leather chair as Reese sat up, pushing his Laptop to the side.

She licked her lips nervously; her stomach was full, thanks to a delicious burger from Tequi-La-La, a punk rock bar just down the street from the compound. She'd hoped that having food in her belly would help her anxiety, but as Reese sat there scrutinizing her, her ever-present nerves came roaring back with a vengeance.

Her cheeks reddened as she glanced toward his face for a split second, trying to see if he was still holding a grudge toward her. She quickly concluded that he was; he was tapping his foot, his hands clenched tightly on top of his desk – with a start, she realized he was waiting for her to say something.

Alexia cleared her throat, shifting forward in her seat.

"S-so, uhm…I got hurt recently, and I'm gonna be out of work for a while-"

"He told me that, too," said Reese with a nod. "That your first time getting tortured?"

Alexia nodded simply. Reese's gaze seemed to relax a bit as he looked at her, as if trying to gauge her reaction.

"Well, at least you didn't talk. I mean, a blowtorch can burn a story out of just about anyone, but not you, apparently. So credit where it's due, kid – I'm impressed."

"Th-thanks…" Alexia trailed off, brushing her hair back from her forehead with her injured hand.

"They pull your fingernails out, too?" he asked, pointing at her hand.

Alexia shook her head. "I wriggled out of my chains while they were torturing me….Took some flesh off my knuckles doing that, but I got myself down."

"I see…" Reese's lips pursed. "Maybe you're not as soft as I thought you were."

Alexia smiled a bit. "Well…like I said, I'm gonna try to put the crew first."

"See that you do, kid," said Reese, leaning back in his chair. "So tell me, what do you know about money laundering?"

"Just the basics," she explained. "You take dirty money from things like drug trafficking, funnel it through a legitimate business like a casino or a restaurant, pay taxes on it, then gift that money back to yourself as a salary so it looks legitimate."

"That's right." Reese nodded. "So every new car, every house, every pretty dress you buy, is all thanks to me and my guys in the finance sector. Now, the Skulls are a criminal empire, so we've got a ton of ways to launder our money. But recently, there's been a…disruption. The other night, we happened to lose one of our main fronts."

"Bahama Mamas," Alexia realized. "...That place was a front?"

"Yep. A lucrative one, too. But despite that, business ain't stopping – you guys keep making money out in the field, and it has to keep getting washed. So, we're needing to beef up some of our other establishments to pick up that slack."

"Well, w-whatever you need me to do, I guess."

Reese smiled wryly. "Well, I need to know your strengths first, kid. What are you good at, besides shooting guns and resisting torture?"

For a second, Alexia's blood ran cold. This very question had been asked multiple times at job interviews back in South Yankton, interviews she'd always bombed because of her anxiety. Even at that moment, she could feel Reese's skepticism increasing as she hesitated in answering.

However, she soon realized something: here in the Skulls, no one would judge her for her criminal record. Reese had no idea about her time in juvie, and even if he did, he likely wouldn't care. Her hands clenched into fists as she sat up.

"W-Well, I like to read…I'm pretty good at math and physics. I'm a decent cook, at least according to my brothers."

Reese clicked his tongue and pointed at her. "I think I've just got the thing."

Alexia's eyes widened. "Oh, um…really?"

"Yeah. How good are you with a fryer?"

Alexia blinked. She'd never used a fryer before; however, she knew where this conversation was going. Based on her responses, there was only one type of job she was qualified for.

"C…C-Cluckety-cluck-cluck, h-how may I serve you, sir?"

Alexia was horrified to have to say such a ridiculous phrase, but she had no choice. It was the lunch rush, and she was manning the front counter at the Cluckin' Bell in Rockford Plaza, which the Skulls had commandeered and turned into a front for their illegal activities. The restaurant's employees weren't all Skulls, but crew members who were too injured to work were sometimes hired on as temporary workers, manning the fryers or, in Alexia's case, the cash register.

Alexia's throat was tight, her high-pitched voice strangled with anxiety. Her face was a vibrant red, accentuating the chicken mascot hat she was wearing on her head. This of course added to the humiliation, but according to Reese, the business had to look as legitimate as possible. The more she and her fellow employees degraded themselves, the less the feds would come snooping.

Of course, Alexia didn't believe that. Part of her thought this was simply where Reese stuck people he didn't like – including her, the girl who'd thrown a street race out of a sense of moral obligation.

The pudgy bald man standing in front of the counter scratched his double chin contemplatively, his eyes scanning the menu above Alexia's head.

"Yeahh, lemme get a Cluckin' Huge Meal with a Diet Sprunk."

"Y-yes, sir." Alexia typed the man's order into the register with her uninjured hand. "W…Would you like fries with that?"

"Huh?"

Alexia had said this so quietly that the man hadn't heard her. She cleared her throat, forcing herself to look up at him.

"I-I said, 'would you like fries with that?'"

"Uhh, actually, let's do Cock Rings instead." The customer was referring to a menu item that consisted of breaded chicken breast patties shaped into small rings.

Alexia gulped; she'd only just been trained on the register. For a fast food restaurant, Cluckin' Bell had an absurd number of menu items, including a whopping forty-five combo meals. Finding these items required scrolling through several pages on the electronic screen in front of her.

A nervous hum escaped her throat as she searched desperately for Cock Rings on the digital screen. All the while, she could feel the customer's eyes boring through her, as if he thought staring into her soul would make her work faster.

"Order up!" A chicken-hatted coworker in the kitchen looked desperately at her. "We're getting backed up here, new kid! Can you speed it up?"

Alexia felt short of breath. The window was filling up with orders, and she still had a line of customers to attend to. Fast food workers, she realized, were true stalwarts. She couldn't help but question how anyone could work at such an inhuman pace, especially someone earning minimum wage.

Eventually, mercifully, she located the Cock Rings on the menu screen. Breathing a sigh of relief, she looked up at her customer.

"Will that complete your order, sir?"

"Yeah – wait, actually, lemme get an extra-large Chocolate Sludge milkshake, too."

Oh, you asshole!

Alexia struggled to maintain her smile as she scanned the menu for the desserts. Eventually, another coworker emerged from the kitchen and began expediting orders to customers. However, the line continued building until it was out the restaurant's front door.

A quick glance at this line was enough to make Alexia feel lightheaded. Sweat was running freely down her forehead; not only was the chicken hat humiliating, it was also suffocatingly hot. Subconsciously, she wiped the sweat off her face with her uninjured hand.

"Don't do that!" her coworker snapped. "What were you, raised in a fuckin' barn?! We're handling food here!"

"S-sorry…" Alexia's sweaty hand dropped ignominiously to her side.

"Go in the back and wash your hands! I'll take care of the customers!"

Alexia nodded wordlessly, slinking to the back of the restaurant in shame. Tears stung at her eyes, but she quickly wiped them away as she made her way to the women's restroom.

She huffed as she ripped off her chicken hat, laying it on the countertop beside her as she washed her face and her non-bandaged hand. Her hair was a cowlicked mess atop her head. The smell of fried chicken, so appetizing at first, had seeped into the folds of her yellow work clothes. At this point, the smell of fat and frying oil was nauseating, overpowering her senses until she could do nothing but accept defeat: this job was too much.

Once her face was clean, Alexia laid her head on the counter, trying to catch her breath as tears leaked from her eyes. By all accounts, this was the first 'real' job she'd ever worked; even if the whole business was a front for the Skulls to launder money, it had all the appearances of an actual restaurant.

What the hell is wrong with me? I can withstand getting tortured, but I can't withstand five minutes as a cashier?

Alexia sighed heavily.

Focus, Lex. Just a couple weeks of this, then you can get back to doing jobs for the Skulls.

She was startled from her thoughts by the sound of the bathroom door opening. She quickly gathered herself, splashing some more water on her face as another woman entered the restroom.

Alexia stole a glance at this woman at the sink next to her. She had a gothic appearance, with black hair and matching black lipstick. As the woman washed her hands in the sink, Alexia couldn't help but notice her T-shirt, which featured the cover of Metallica's 1984 album, Ride the Lightning.

Another metalhead, she realized.

She was too shy and too upset to initiate small talk with the woman, but Ride the Lightning was one of her favorite albums of all time. Wishing to hide her tear-stained face from the cool gothic woman, Alexia reached for her chicken hat, preparing to go back out on the floor.

"This isn't your natural habitat, is it?"

Alexia's eyes darted over to the woman, whose eyes remained casually focused on the sink as she washed her hands.

Her breath caught in her throat, her face turning crimson at the knowledge this woman had seen her tears.

"N…Not particularly," she answered quietly.

"Anyone else around?"

Alexia looked around the bathroom. She hadn't heard anyone in the other stalls. By all accounts, the room was empty except for her and the gothic woman.

"N-no," said Alexia.

"Good." The woman smiled lightly as she turned the faucet off and started to dry her hands. "I'm Paige Harris. You're Alexia, right? Alexia Knight?"

Alexia's blood turned to ice, the breath quickly exiting her lungs.

How in the fresh hell does she know my name?...My real name?

"D…Do we know each other?" Alexia squeaked out.

"No," said Paige. "But I've heard of you. Me and my partner, we're looking for someone who knows how to handle themselves in dangerous situations. And from what we've seen and heard around the city, that someone is you."

"Ma'am, I-I'm just a cashier!" Alexia lied feverishly. "I don't know the first thing about danger, or anything like that."

"Yeah?" Paige pointed down. "How'd you hurt your hand?"

Alexia's eyes narrowed. "I...spilled some frying oil on it. Happens more than you may think."

"I'm sure it does. But hey, at least it wasn't your shooting hand. I know you shoot guns right-handed."

"Huh?"

"Look, I hacked into the security cameras at Las Cuadras," Paige explained. "The footage clearly shows you – your hair was different then, but you were the one who took out Spider and his boys." She smiled. "That's no easy task, girlfriend. For this job we have planned, we need someone who's good with weapons."

Alexia sighed, her eyes falling in defeat. "Okay. Yeah, that was me. But I'm afraid I can't help you, ma'am."

"Why not?"

Alexia put a hand to her belly. "They have me on light duty now. That frying oil, it hurt me pretty bad. I still have some burns on my stomach."

"By 'they', you mean the Skulls, right?" Paige smirked. "Yeah, I know this place is a front. And I know you guys work pretty hard for your living."

"Oh, you don't know the half of it…" Alexia huffed.

"But this job of ours, it's not nearly as tough as what you guys do. It's a standard bank heist."

A heist?! Alexia's eyes popped open.

Paige laughed. "It's not what you're thinking. It's a small franchise – the Fleeca Bank in Chumash. Tiny operation. You disable security, grab the funds, hop in the getaway vehicle, and get out. Simple as can be – no killing, not very physical, and believe me, the pay is spectacular. Way better than what you're getting in this chicken joint."

Alexia swallowed. "Well, I-I guess, but what about the crew? They kinda need me here."

"Do they?" Paige mused. "You don't think they can find someone else to push buttons on a register?"

"There's more to it than that!" Alexia said defensively, red springing up on her cheeks.

Paige shook her head. "Either way, I don't think this type of work is for you. Look, just sleep on it, then drop by Darnell Brothers on Popular Street tomorrow. My partner will meet you there."

Without another word, Paige left the restroom, leaving Alexia stunned. She gripped the yellow chicken hat in her hands, looking down into its googly eyes as if it could offer her some form of assurance.

I don't even know these people, she told herself. Is it really the best move to be meeting with them by myself in a quiet building?

For all she knew, Paige could be a fed; how else could the woman possibly know her real last name? However, this didn't make sense, either. If Paige were a fed, why hadn't she just arrested her right there in the bathroom? Perhaps she was just biding her time, but Alexia didn't know that.

What Alexia did know was that she needed money. As a Skull, she was getting paid more than the average fast food worker's wage for her work at Cluckin' Bell. But if she could pull off a bank heist, she'd be in much better shape financially to provide for her brothers. She would also be spared the embarrassment of having to wear the chicken hat in public.

After taking a moment to think, Alexia sighed. Her mind was made up. As embarrassing as it was to admit, a fast food job was too much for her. Clutching the chicken hat in her hands, she strode out of the bathroom, her face set in a determined frown as she headed to the manager's office.

This same frown marked her features the next day as she drove her red Oracle into the parking lot of Darnell Brothers, a derelict brick building in the heart of La Mesa. At first glance, the building looked abandoned, but as she parked her car, Alexia could see a light through the grime of a glass window above. The faint hum of music could just barely be heard over the whoosh of cars on nearby Popular Street.

Shutting off her engine, Alexia stepped out of the car, feeling for the pistol that was holstered on her right hip. Damien had replaced all of her weapons the previous day, which she was sure to thank him profusely for. With how poor she was, such a large expense would have surely bankrupted her.

Hopefully though, I won't be poor for much longer, she reasoned. Especially if this bank heist is for real.

Damien had informed her that he'd be on an assassination mission for the next few days and would be unavailable for jobs. Alexia had wished him good luck, and they'd shared another kiss; Alexia smiled at the memory, remembering how his beard had tickled her face and how the warmth of his breath had filled her body. She hoped they could meet up again soon, assuming both of them survived their respective criminal undertakings.

A train rumbled by on the nearby railroad tracks, making Alexia's chest vibrate. The burns on her stomach still hurt like hell, and her left hand was still bandaged up. Doctor Patel probably wouldn't like that she was working during this time she was supposed to be recovering – but the way Alexia saw it, she could still shoot a gun, and she still had The Zone. As long as she was careful and avoided heavy exercise, she could still work.

Taking a deep breath, Alexia pushed open the door and was greeted by the crackling of mariachi music above her. After ascending a wooden staircase, she came upon three women seated at tables, quietly sewing together what looked like counterfeit garments: scarves, sweaters, socks, T-shirts, all worked on diligently by the Hispanic women stationed at their sewing machines.

Alexia smiled, waving shyly at the women, who looked up at her with bored expressions before continuing with their work in silence. She was gathering the courage to speak up and ask these women who was in charge when an office door creaked open. From behind this door, a pudgy arm emerged, beckoning Alexia to enter.

Alexia paused; she was weirded out by this reception, but she followed the beckoning arm anyway, shutting the door behind her.

"Ah, good, you're here," said the owner of the pudgy arm, a short, overweight man with balding red hair who stood before her, hunched toad-like over a wooden cane. "You weren't followed, were you?"

"I didn't…see anybody," she said timidly, looking away from him.

"Good. A job like this, it's best to avoid any unwanted attention." A satisfied smile crossed the man's bloated lips as he leaned casually on his cane. "Well, it's nice to finally meet. I hope you weren't perturbed by the coarse overtures of my resident hacker the other day."

'Coarse overtures'? Alexia thought. Oh, brother…

"J-just a little," she admitted, remembering how much Paige had unsettled her. "How do you guys…know about me, anyway?"

"Well, because you've made waves here, Alexia," he explained. "It's like throwing rocks into a pond. It doesn't matter how small the rock is – when it hits the surface, it's going to make ripples, and those ripples are gonna spread far and wide. And you? Well, you've only been here a few days, but you've made so many ripples that it wasn't hard for me to trace them right to their source."

"I-I guess you could say that." Alexia gulped, and the man smirked, as if he was enjoying watching her squirm with anxiety.

He chuckled softly to himself. "I know what you must thinking: 'if this guy knows who I am, then who else knows?' Well, rest assured that I'm always at least two steps ahead of the police, or the other gangs, or anyone else who may be interested in tracking you down. For you see, no one else can follow the ripples quite like I can."

"I see. And…now you're gonna blackmail me into working for you?"

"I certainly could do that," he remarked smugly. "But I'd rather not have fifty Black Skulls in Insurgents showing up at my doorstep. So, I figured we could operate on a mutual exchange: you help me, and I can help you."

Alexia nodded slowly, her eyes rising from the floor to meet his. "Okay…So who are you?"

"Lester Crest," he said, shooting out his hand. "Don't bother looking me up on Eyefind, by the way – I've wiped my online presence clean."

Alexia took the man's hand, pumping it up and down a few times. "N-Nice to meet you."

"Likewise. Go ahead and have a seat – your partner should be here any minute."

"Partner?" Alexia's eyes widened.

"Of course. This is a two-person job. And this is your first time, so you'll need all the help you can get."

"Well, o-okay." Alexia sank down into a nearby sofa. "So who is this person?"

"They're another Black Skull I've had dealings with," Lester explained. "And don't worry. This person's strong, capable. I have no doubt you two will make a great match." Lester turned his head at the sound of a door opening. "Ah, that must be them."

Lester shuffled across the office, his cane beating the floor with every step. Alexia sat up, her nerves gripped with anxiety as she prepared to meet her new partner in crime, the person she'd be trusting with her life, her freedom, her reputation. As this person ascended the stairs, Alexia couldn't help but notice how light their footfalls were against the hardwood.

Realization pierced through her like a gunshot. As Lester opened the door, and she caught sight of her partner, dread filled her nerves, making her want to sink into the floor.

"Wha…?!"

The little girl stopped at the edge of the door. The pink iFruit phone she'd been holding in her tiny hands clattered to the floor. Her mouth was agape, revealing yellow braces on her teeth. Despite the different haircut, Noël seemed to recognize her old rival immediately.

Alexia jumped off the couch, pointing at Noël, who immediately did the same.

"You again?!" they both shouted.

Hey, everyone. So, I know I've been going pretty "off-script", so to speak, throughout this whole rewrite. I've added some things, removed or changed other things, and that's because I want this story be its own original product - I didn't wanna just clean up the grammar from the previous version and call it a day. I wanted the story and the characters to flow better, and I wanted to put out a less juvenile product because, like I said before, I think I've improved from the time I wrote the original.

Also, I know there was a lot more of Jess in the original story. Don't worry though, we'll be coming back to her. :) I just felt that, in the original version, I didn't really give Damien much love. I just had him doing missions off-screen for most of the plot, when I probably should've made more of an effort to develop his character. So he'll have more of a presence this time around, but Jess has always been a fan favorite, so I'm not gonna abandon her, either. :P

For those unaware, I covered the first two Online heists in the original fanfic, The Fleeca Job and The Humane Labs Raid. For this section of the story, I don't really want to change a whole lot. I still like what I wrote regarding those heists - the character interactions, (most) of the dialogue - so while I might still clean up some stuff, I'll be following the original more closely the next several chapters.

Anyway, that should do it from me. I hope you've all been doing well, and I'll see you in the next chapter. :)