Chapter Two

Bethany groaned as she slowly came to, cracking open on eye and instantly decided she wasn't dead. Instead, she was lying on a bed in a bedroom she didn't recognize. It was a rather nice room, though it had a rather masculine thouch to it. The bottles of hair gel, axe, and scattered assortment of bullets on the dresser were a nice touch, just like the clothes drapped over a chair in the corner. There was probably some sort of window behind her, but she didn't bother rolling over to look.

She closed her eyes and groaned. Her head was pounding and her throat thrummed painfully with each heartbeat. Touching her neck carefully, Bethany was surprised to find that it was patched up. Granted, whoever had done it was no doctor, but it was the thought that counts right?

She pulled the seemingly homemade quilt up to her chin and snuggled into the plump pillows supporting her head. She lay there for about twenty seconds before shooting up straight and instantly regretting it. Her head pounded even harder, but she chose to ignore it.

"Where am I, how did I get here, and what the heck happened?" she thought frantically, images of hostage situations and bodies found daily in the river ran through her head. There was nobody in the room, but what would happen when they come back? Death was not an option for her. She needed to get her folder… wait. Her folder! It wasn't next to her.

She looked around frantically, twisting around to conduct a better search. Continuing to ignore her head, she grew increasingly desperate. That folder was important. Three more frantic look-overs confirmed her fears. The folder wasn't in the study.

Standing, she made her way over to the proud looking door and opened it cautiously, peering out into the hallway. Deeming it empty, she cautiously made her way out. Walking slowly (her head and neck where making an unfortunate comeback), Bethany was careful to keep quiet. Wherever she was, she could only assume the people holding her were hostile.

"Hey Zach, wait up!" a young male voice called further up the hall. Bethany instantly froze and pressed herself against the wall, knowing full well that she was in a hallway and being against a wall didn't make her invisible. There was the sound of scuffling from the direction of the voice, followed by several loud protests, probably from this "Zach" character.

"Ry, what is it?" one of the boys, probably Zach, asked,
"Teagan and Zed are on their way back. Rumor has it that they brought a certain someone with them." Ry asked,
"Rumor has it? Seriously? Who would they be stupid to bring back with them?" the Zach boy again,
"You do realize that we brought someone back with us just the other night, don't you?"
"Speaking of which, how is our resident charity case? Surviving I hope." Their voices started to fade, where they moving on?
"From last I heard. Aunt Birdie patched her up. Said she'd be fine. In fact, she should be waking up at some point in the nearby future." They knew. They had to. Why else would they have helped her? Were they helping her? What was going on? And more importantly, where was her folder?

She waited for a couple of seconds before continuing down the hallway. Coming to a corner, she picked a random direction and continued on her way. After several more turns and about ten minutes later, she came to the end of the maze. Before her were a set of proud oak double doors, not unlike the one from the study, only double.

Opening the door carefully, she was confronted with a flurry of activity. Standing in some sort of a warehouse or maybe just a really big garage (heaven knows New Delphi had plenty of those), she watched in wonder. People were running around frantically, shouting at each other in a flurry of different languages. A woman crashed into her, pausing only to apologize in what sounded like Russian before hurrying on her way. Whoever these people were, something important was happening.

"Hey, anyone out there? I need a wrench!" a semi-familiar voice shouted nearby. Looking over in surprise, Bethany found herself looking at the waist down of a young man. He was lying on his back, tucked under a rather nice sports car with a toolbox next to his leg. Glancing around, she realized that there was no one nearby paying any attention to him, so she cautiously approached.
"Does anyone hear me? I NEED A WRENCH!" the kid all but bellowed.

Jumping in surprise, Bethany hurried over and shuffled through the toolbox until she found a wrench. She then proceeded to place the wrench in his outstretched palm. He took it and his hand disappeared back under the car. She watched him for a second before slowly starting to rise out of her crouch. She had almost completely straightened out when his voice stopped her.

"Okay, now I need a screwdriver, a blowtorch, and my mask," he commanded and Bethany quickly handed the requested items to him only to have the screwdriver thrown back at her, "No, not that one. The automatic one." She looked around some more before finding the "automatic one" and throwing it to him. There was muffled shout of protest, followed by the sound of the screwdriver and blowtorch being used to assault the bottom of the car.

She watched in wonder as light cast by the blowtorch shown out from underneath the car. There was a muffled curse and a series of rather loud clangings before two of the requested items were tossed back out.
"Okay, now I just need you to hand me that lid over there and we will be all set!" he declared happily. She looked around a bit before turning back to his legs,
"What lid?"
"It's a big, thick metal sheet. It should be leaning up against that table over there and if my brother actually did his job, it should be painted black," he explained, showing a bit more patience that before. She once more looked around, this time standing up and walking around the car before finding said table.

Hoisting the lid, she half carried, half dragged it over to where the boy was. She pushed the lid rather bodily under the car to him and watched in amazement as it was dragged under. The sound of the automatic screwdriver continued for a few more minutes before it was thrown back out.

The mechanic soon followed, revealing a young man about fifteen or sixteen years old with longish black hair, vivid blue eyes, and a rather (as rude as it sounds) large nose. He was grinning in, his sense of accomplishment showing on his face.

"Alrightly," he informed her proudly, "as I promised, we are finished. Ed, we're all done here!" he suddenly raised his voice to shout the last sentence across the warehouse to a tall light-brown haired man with clipboard. The man, Ed, glanced up and nodded in acknowledgement before turning back to his clipboard. "Yup, we're done," he turned back to Bethany and a rather odd look crossed his face, "Um, yeah, sorry. I'm Zach," he informed her, offering his hand.

"Bethany Mailstrom," she answered carefully and mentally facepalmed for giving her name away to a complete stranger.
"Cool. Sorry about the confusion earlier. We didn't really know who you were, so we brought back and patched you up ourselves. Or rather, Birdie patched you up and we all watched on awkwardly. Yeah…" he faded off looking rather awkward.

Deciding to take pity on him, Bethany changed the subject slightly, "Do you known where my stuff is?" She motioned at her borrowed sweats.
"Um, yeah. In fact I do. Just follow me over here," he led her over to the wall, where there were several more metal tables lined the walls, "Don't worry, we didn't go through anything. Catherine wanted to, but Scarlett wouldn't let her. It's a good thing too, 'cause the only person that girl listens to is her mother."

"O'Brian!" a voice bellowed from behind them. Instantly Zach whirled around to face the voice,
"Yes Sir?" he called up to a grizzled old man who was leaning against a metal rail on the previously unnoticed walkway that circle the warehouse/garage.
"Focus and get back to work, boy! This isn't a social club," the man shouted at Zach.

"Yes, Admiral. I'll get right on it," Zach called back before running over to a nearby control panel and pressing several buttons, "Okay everyone, thirty seconds and counting!" he shouted over the noise, Bethany all but forgotten, "Ryan, clear the runway! We do not need another hit-victim!"

Another boy, probably to "Ry" from earlier, ran around shouting in what sounded like Russian, then Spanish, and finally English; telling people to "get their arse's gear and get out of the way". Zach turned back to her,
"Miss Mailstrom, I suggest you hop out of the way. My brother and Teag aren't really known for their safe driving," he gave her an easy smile, but it was rather clear it wasn't a suggestion. She reluctantly allowed herself to be pulled near the wall, feeling rather pathetic. This boy, this kid was easily five or six years younger than her, but for some reason he intimidated her more than any thug she had ever crossed paths with.

It didn't help that he had a reputation going already. Zacharias O'Brian, sixteen years old: master hacker and mechanic, not to mention a decent shot. He first appeared on the grid two years ago, when he befriended Ryan Quinzel. She had information on both boys in her folder. Information that could land them in Juvenile Hall until they could be tried as adults. Zach's older brother that he had mentioned would have to be Zedekiah O'Brian, who was twenty-three years old and good friends with Teagan Reece. Zedekiah had appeared on the grid when he was twelve and his reputation had only grown since then. As much as she hated to admit it, from the looks of things she had been saved by the one of the most powerful crime families in America. A crime family she had been collecting information against. Once she got her folder back, all she had to do was take the information to her boss and it would be all over for the Quinzel Family. She just needed to make sure they didn't find out what she was up to first.

Zach's voice cut through her inner freak-out moment and brought her back to Earth with a bump,
"Alright people, they should be here in five, four, three, two, one!" he pressed a button and the warehouse door opened up right as a silver BMW came screeching in sideways. The car had barely come to a stop before the driver's door was thrown open and a tall brunette man stepped out.

He was dressed in a rather nice suit, but the tie had been loosened and the sleeves rolled up, giving him a slightly more casual appearance. Everything about him screamed dashing and was enough to make any girl swoon, but all it did was make Bethany tense up. She recognizing her "fiery" haired savior from the alley, whom she now knew to be none other than Teagan Quinzel. Twenty-two years old, six foot five, and a master marksman, Teagan was a very powerful man and a very wanted man. The problem was that the New Delphi PD could never get enough evidence to incriminate him, or anyone in his family for that matter. That was why she had been sent.

While she was thinking this, the car's passenger door opened and a second man stepped out. Standing barely inches shorter than Teagan, the second man was similarly dressed but had opted to keep a professional air about him. Bethany deemed it safe to assume that he was the infamous Zedekiah O'Brian, Teagan's right hand man and best friend. He looked around calmly, scanning the room. His eyes came to a stop at Zach, and he gave a slight smile, which was returned by his brother. Then he locked eyes with Bethany. Instantly his smile faded, replaced with a worried look. Zach's smile faded as well and he looked at Bethany in confusion while his brother nudged Teagan, gaining his attention. Zedekiah inclined his head in Bethany's direction and Teagan's gaze followed.

The moment Bethany's eyes met Teagan's she was instantly filled with dread. Zach might not know who she was, but something told her that Teagan and Zedekiah did.

Sorry about the confusion, I have decided to switch up some things in this story. I suggest that you actually read the chapters , because some essencial things have been changed, as well as some of the pictures on my profile.

Poisedtokill: I know that would make a bit more sense in that situation, but it wouldn't be very benificial to this story if one of the main charactars had a giant welt on her face through most of the storyline. Also keep in mind that the thugs didn't understand half of the words she said. Thank you for your insight though, I actually hadn't really thought about it.