Ridgedog's POV

Zoey goes downstairs to escort whoever had decided to knock on my door, and I waited patiently. My hands were clasped behind my back and I wait at the window, gazing at the clouds in disinterest. Tia would be shopping now. Boring.

The door opens behind me, and I don't bother to turn round-I can see them in the reflection. Ten boys, youths judging by their stupid attire-the classic teenager dress code of hoodies and low pants. They looked stupid, and I sneered, sighing-I'd hoped for better.

"Hello boys, what can I do for you?" I purr, watching them casually in the reflection. They were edgy, nervous-and they should be. Who the fuck did they think they were, walking in here and wasting my time?

"And make it quick, I haven't got time for theatrics" I sigh. 

"Do you know someone who goes by the name of Valleycat?" one asked. He has a golden amulet heavily hung round his neck, and it was precious to him-I could tell by the way he fiddled with it, holding close to his chest. 

I pause, thinking over my response. Long ago, in the newspapers, someone had spread a rumour that I had an alliance with a woman called Valleycat. She was made up, of course. 

"Why do you ask?" I smile, turning round. They shuffle back a little staring at me in surprise. I wasn't what people usually thought I looked like. People, stupid, ordinary people, usually portrayed me fat, with a suit, a mustache and fifty guns hanging on my belt, and a cigar in my mouth.

I always shuddered in disgust whenever I saw how newspapers showed me in "fan" drawings. Sometimes, I would go rob a bank or kill a hundred or so people and LET them catch me on CCTV so they could see what I really looked like.

My mind was wandering quickly and I was getting bored.

And everyone knew what happened when I got bored.

"Well, we ran into some girl who started threatening us and started fighting us. We got her down and asked for her name, and she said people call her Valleycat" one says, his accent definitely Canadian. He reminded me of Sips, and I narrow my eyes at him unintentionally, and he backs away quickly. Smart boy.

"What did she look like?" I ask curiously, tilting my head. Zoey was milling around in the corner of the room, awaiting a command. The poor dear was supposed to be on her break, so I smiled broadly at her and gestured at the door. She smiled softly back and left quietly.

One of them, the one with the gold amulet, brought out his phone, flicked through a few pictures, and hesitated. I stare at him, waiting impatiently. He freezes a little as I glare at him.

"I haven't got all day" I snap. He jumps, and, with reassuring looks from his friends, he steps forward shakily and shows me the phone. My eyes narrow.

Tia was on the floor, bleeding heavily from her nose and, by the looks of it, her legs. She didn't seem to be too hurt, though she looked incredibly pissed off.

I raise my chin up a little and he backs away rapidly.

"Do you know her?" one asks.

"What are your names?" I ask quietly.

"I'm Sky, this is Jerome, Mitch, Ryan, SSundee, Tyler, Husky and Deadlox" the golden amulet guy said.

I pause, taking in this new information, imprinting their looks in my memory so I would recognize them. I would need to get someone to look into these boys. Something about them...I didn't like it.

"To your question, yes I know her." I smile, leaning on my desk. They seem to confirm something in their heads, and they relax a little. I resist the urge to frown-what the hell were they planning?

"Is there a reason you came barging into my home and demanding answers?" I ask sharply, my arms still folded. If they thought they were going to come in here and start asking question without a price, they were very, very wrong.

"We..just wanted to confirm something" Husky mutters. "Confirm what exactly?" I ask smoothly, clenching my jaw. Now I was beginning to get annoyed. They'd been in here far too long. I stood up, stalking towards them slowly.

"I...I don't know, we just wanted to know-" Jerome stuttered until I grabbed his shirt and hoisted him off the floor.

The Canadian, Mitch, I think his name was, stabbed me sharply with a knife that I hadn't noticed. I glare at him heavily-oh, so they wanted to play that game, did they?

I pretended to wince as I removed the knife, and it was as if everything exploded at once. All of them fell upon me, stabbing me roughly wherever they could, my chest, my face, my legs, everywhere.

I pretended to shout and scream for help, and I slumped, my eyes closing.

"That was easy" Tyler chuckled. "Let's raid this place!" Jerome woops, and they all laugh in agreement.

I hear them scuffling around and I slowly sit up, turning invisible. My wounds began to heal, and I walk casually over to the door and slam it shut, reappearing.

They all whirl round, gawping at me in shock. I smile angelically at them.

"So good of you to stay and play..." I purr, locking the door, and walking over to the nearest one.

Tia's POV

Thump.

The knife struck the freshly cut out cardboard target clean in the head. I smile, walking over and plucking it out of the dent. 

Backing up, I aim and-

Thump.

Bullseye. Right in the same place.

I go to get it, yanking it out, and when I turn round, I jump.

"For God's sake Ridge, go away!" I groan, shoving him roughly. He stands in the way of the target, grinning widely. It was only when I saw the blood on his hands that I paused.

"You know those guys that attacked you?" he muses, stepping forward. I narrow my eyes, aiming the knife at his head. "Yeah, what about them?" I snap, throwing it at his head. It hits him directly in the forehead, and I catch it as it drops out and watch in dismay as the wound heals.

He scowls, waving his hands and the knives disappear. I stare at my empty hands in disappointment.

"Well, they came asking for a...Valleycat" he smirks, and I sigh, sitting down in the tatty blue armchair I had dragged off a skip nearby months ago. It was old, and falling to bits, but it managed the job perfectly.

"Yeah? What then?" I ask, rubbing my leg unconciously. Those dickheads had sprained it. It was beginning to sting now, and I winced as I tugged my trousers up, glaring at the massive red patch on my skin with large grey bruises scattered around my knee. Ridge was looking down at it, eyes filled with nothing but concern and I scowled-he was like a mother, clucking around and fussing over tiny little cuts and bruises. I drop the trouser leg and wait for him to continue, relaxing in my broken blue chair.

"He showed me a picture of you..." he continues, tilting his head. "You look better than you did in the picture, at least."

"Well, you know, I wanted to clean up to get ready for his royal highness to come visiting" I groan sarcastically. 

"I appreciate it" he grins and I facepalm. 

"Then what?" I say impatiently, picking at the bits of wool hanging out of the arms of the chair. "Do you need to ask?" he smirks, raising his bloody hands up. I pause, looking him up and down at the blood splashed on his clothes.

"You killed them?" I frown.

"Of course not, no! No, I just made a few...alterations..." he smirked, before carrying on, "...Needless to say, they won't be bothering you again."

"Well, I appreciate your help, Mr Demigod, but I don't need you to fight my battles" I mutter, standing up. "A little appreciation gift wouldn't go amiss" he murmurs, holding out his arms. I raise my eyebrow and wrinkle my nose, looking him up and down again in exaggeration. "I'm not hugging you, especially when you're covered with blood. Now, take me to those poor guys and let me see what you've done with them" I sigh, opening the door. I don't have to look to know that he was grinning.

I groan to see a black, shiny car outside my house. "Where the hell are we going? To the queen?" I mutter under my breath, trying not to grimace when he holds the door open for me. Gingerly stepping inside, I feel too dirty and unimportant to be in such a snazzy car like this. I don't bother with a seatbelt, and sigh incredibly loudly when Ridge gets into the back with me- I didn't notice the driver in the front.

The engine starts, but the car is smooth going and quiet, save for the little hum in the background. I suddenly feel very sleepy, and lie my head on the cool leather, wincing as I lurch forward as the car stops at a traffic light. 

"Is there a reason why you aren't driving?" I ask, finally looking up at the other passenger. Ridge grins his signature grin, but I don't return it.

"I wanted to talk, but it seems you aren't in the mood" he notes. "Clever dog" I grunt.

I realize instantly that was a mistake when he narrows his eyes and makes the driver stop, ignoring the beeps from the car behind.

"Just because I let you off easy doesn't mean you can keep insulting me" he snaps, hands clenched in a fist. I stay frozen, not taking my eyes off his hands, not daring to look him in the eye. He nods at the driver, who carries on driving like nothing had happened. 

We sit in silence for a while, and I turn round, putting my back to him as I gaze outside at the city scenery. The car windows were tinted black so no one could see in, and I dreaded to know the reason. I tried to ignore the various blood patches on the carpet underneath that someone had tried very hard to scrub out.

The city was bleak, as it always was in Mistral City. It reminded me of London, busy with workers, ordinary, every-day people walking around. The sky was a pure white, like someone had taken an eraser and rubbed all the clouds out, and there was a heavy fog in the opposite side of the city over the large river that cut the city in half. I remembered when I was a kid, my mum and dad used to take me there with my brother and we used to sit and have picnics on deckchairs-there was no beach, just pebbles that sloped into it at some points.

The water was grey, the rocks were grey, the bridge was grey, the buildings were grey and the cars were black, and the shops were black, and the sky was white. It was like sitting in a black and white film.

Of course, the idiot next to me with his black coat ruined it with his stunning auburn hair and dazzling yellow edges on his coat. And the blood patches as well.

I peek over at him through my hair. He was calmer, that was for sure, though his jaw was clenched tight. His eyes were calm, emotionless, but when he looked over at me, his jaw unclenched and he smiled softly. I nodded at him, before glancing out at the window again.

The smell of lavendar and peppermint was almost overwhelming, but at the same time felt so calming, so...homely. I knew if I wanted to, I could fall asleep in here.

"Did I scare you? I'm sorry, bad day at work" he blurts out suddenly, his face happy again. "It's fine" I reply, and, thank god, we finally pulled up to the "abandoned" warehouse which was Ridge's home. It was massive, and on the outside it looked as bleak and grey and ordinary as the rest of the city. But inside...

"You're very quiet" he notes, reaching out to stroke my hair. I don't flinch away-I didn't want to anger him anymore. I knew I was treading on shaky ground here, and I didn't want to push him any further.

Even though the car has stopped, we remain inside. The driver stared directly out of the glass, not even looking our way, as still as a statue. Ridge must have payed him to do that. He catches me staring at the driver, and tilts my chin so that I was looking at him. "Don't worry about him, he's not paying attention." I was about to answer, "What would he be paying attention to?", but he stops me when he runs a finger agonizingly slowly over my lips.

I stiffen, clenching my jaw. He pauses, taking in the action, before sighing under his breath and moving away. I relax, slumping a little and almost sighing with relief when he opens the car door. He holds out a hand for me, and I take it, letting him tug me gently out of the car. I look back at the driver. "Aren't you going to pay him?" I ask.

"Why should I?" he murmurs, waiting patiently for me to move out of the way of the door. I reach into my pocket, finding a crumpled ten pound note that should of been used to by the shopping, and I lean back into the car, pushing it into his view.

"Thank you madam" he nods, taking it gently, and putting it into his pocket. Ridge scowls at me, tugging me out of the way of the door and pushing it shut. The driver drives away quickly, disappearing back onto the road. I stop for a minute, frowning. "How am I going to get back?" I ask.

He doesn't answer my question, just glares at me wordlessly. I shuffle awkwardly, staring at my feet.

"Continue to push me and you'll wish you hadn't" he says quietly. I look away, my body freezing. 

"Do you understand?" he whispers, moving closer to me in a somewhat threatening away.

I nod slowly, unsure if I could trust myself to move without running as far away as possible.

He relaxes instantly. smiling happily as if nothing had happened. "Good. Let's go see what those boys have been up to, hm?" he grins. I nod, still scared. Out of everyone I've ever met, Ridge scared me the most, but at the same time, I felt the safest with him. When he wasn't angry.

He pauses, kissing me on the forehead softly, and taking my hand. He puts it onto his cheek, which is surprisingly warm, and soft to touch, and pulls a sad face. "Will you forgive me for my actions?" he murmurs, looking down, then up through his eyelashes. I want to laugh at how bad he was at flirting, but decide not to-I was one step away from dying a horrible, painful death, and to be honest, I really needed a drink of coffee before that happened.

So I smile reassuringly, and nod.

He grins, dropping my hand, and walks eagerly towards his "secret warehouse" glancing back at me. "Hurry up you slowpoke" he taunts, his American background definitely coming through a bit.

I sigh. "Is there a reason to rush? Are they dying or something?" I ask, feeling a bit more comfortable. 

"Probably" he grins.

"Then we might as well take our time" I smirk and he laughs loudly, practically dancing towards his house like an excited child impatient to get to an ice cream van.

I sigh. He was going to kill me one day, I was sure of it.