Chapter 15- Johnny Cade

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Isabel dropped her head, knowing this once worked in Los Angeles. The men would not think her a threat, realize she had nothing for them, and leave. It didn't work this time. So Isabel did the only other thing she could think of.

She ran.

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Ciara's eyes widened and her heartbeat quickened. She was face-to-face with a brick wall that was too high to climb. She cursed under her breath, wondering how close the men were to her. They knew, didn't they? That's why they let her run. She focused again on that wall. She thought this sort of thing only happened in movies and books. The thing where the main character was being chased down an alley, only to be trapped by a wall. Knowing she had to accept her fate, she turned around and locked her eyes with the ground, seeing all four pairs of feet right in front of her.

"Figured out ya couldn't escape, huh, darlin'?" the man who first talked to her asked. Ciara, not wanting to say anything, just nodded her head.

"Well, we don't want to hurt ya, so just give us what we want, and we'll be on our way," a second man said. "You can guess what we want, can't ya?" Ciara stayed silent, until the first man, the one that Ciara guessed was the leader, grabbed her by her shirt and pulled her within punching distance, screaming at her to answer the second man.

"M-Money?" Ciara squeaked, and the leader smiled but didn't let her go, despite her obvious struggles to get away. No, he wasn't touching her skin, but she knew he would if she didn't get away.

"That's right. Just give us what'cha have, and we won't touch a hair on your head, right boys?" the leader asked, and the other three men agreed. Ciara had to wonder how no one on the streets saw this happening. Were they really that blind to what was happening around them? Or did they not care? And not to mention her team. Her team... where were they? Did they care that she was out here, in danger? They were supposed to be here to help... so where were they? Maybe if she screamed loud enough, they'd come running. She tried her best, but she just couldn't scream. She wasn't stressed enough yet.

"Well, where are ya keeping it, wench?" the third man asked, and Ciara tried to get the words past her throat, but she just couldn't. Dammit, why couldn't she just talk?

"Ya have three seconds to give it to us before I beat your face in," the leader threatened.

"I don't have any! I left it all inside. Please, ye have to believe me," Ciara pleaded, and the leader smiled.

"Don't worry, sweetheart, we believe ya," he said, and let go of her shirt. She released a breath she hadn't known she was holding until the leader grabbed her shirt again. "But that doesn't mean we're happy about it. And when we aren't happy, things get ugly." He then threw her to the ground, knocking the breath out of her lungs.

"Now, boss? Can we do it now?" the fourth man, clearly the youngest of the group, asked eagerly.

"Now. Do with her what ya will," the leader said, and Ciara felt her heart drop. What... what were they going to do to her? The leader backed away, and let the other three take their place in front of her. She closed her eyes, not wanting to see what was coming. A rough pair of hands grabbed her elbows, and she fought her very hardest to get away from the unwanted contact, but it made no difference. The men far outpowered her. One of them held her, leaving her open to attack, and the others did not hesitate to take the chance.

Only two of their punches landed on her face, one on her eye and one on her jaw, splitting her lip and causing some blood to flow. The rest were littered around her torso. One of the punches landed on a specific spot on her chest, and pain consumed her body, bringing tears to her eyes. The man let go of her, and she fell to the ground, unable to keep herself standing. The pain and stress were too much for her. The men, obviously enjoying themselves, took turns kicking her while she was down, and she could do nothing but take it. What else was there to do? She wasn't strong enough to do anything but try and defend herself. She couldn't do anything else. Not on her own.

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