I stood in front of the coffee shop I had passed numerous times on my way to school, as Julian got out of the car. It was positioned on the side of the main road, not too far away from the center of the city.

It had a welcoming look to it; cozy but bigger than any other coffee shop around. Three steps led up to the entrance and a doormat sat in front of the closed glass door.

A gust of cold wind hit me as Julian stepped around the car and motioned for me to enter the shop. The weather had started to show the unmistakable signs of winter. The nights were longer and the days were colder. I repressed a shiver, as my leather jacket did nothing to keep me warm in the chill of the morning, and walked hurriedly up the stairs.

There were already a few people inside, sipping on their coffees and teas in the warmth of the shop. As I surveyed the room, I couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to wake up, go to the nearest coffee shop and have a warm drink as a start to a carefree day.

"Hey, Lisa," Julian said as we approached the counter. A girl with fiery red hair stood behind the counter, working on one of the machines. She looked up; her eyes barely glancing at Julian before stopping at me.

"Who's the girl?" she asked, nodding to me, ignoring his greeting.

Julian gestured to me. "This is Cassandra; a possible future co-worker."

"So, you actually got one of your playthings to work with you now?" she scoffed, rolling her eyes and going back to working on the machine on the counter.

My eyebrows rose slightly. I sensed history between them, and not a pleasant one.

"She's a friend, Lisa." I grimaced at his words. He was offering me a place to stay plus a job; the least I could do was keep a straight face when he referred to me as more than a classmate. "Don't be so hostile."

She shook her head, muttering something under her breath as she slammed the door to the machine shut.

I looked at them, my eyes taking in their interaction with a mild fascination. It was refreshing seeing a girl not falling head over heels when Julian was talking to her.

Julian threw me an apologetic look before pulling me behind the counter and through a green door.

"We dated a couple of months ago. I guess she's not over the break up yet," he said, when we were out of earshot, looking slightly uncomfortable.

"You cheated, didn't you?" I affirmed.

If he looked uncomfortable before, he looked truly embarrassed now. "We were practically broken up then, I didn't think it would matter that much."

Great, I had walked right into relationship drama.

I stared blankly at him as he coughed awkwardly. As I had never been in a relationship, I couldn't put myself in Lisa's position. I didn't know what it was like having your boyfriend be with another girl.
It didn't sound like a merry experience.

"Were you going to explain to me how things work in this coffee shop, or am I supposed to figure that out myself?" I asked, ready to get the tour, say yes to the job and leave.

He looked relieved at the topic change, and soon enough he was back to his old smooth-talking self.

I spent the next couple of hours observing Julian's work in the shop, serving the customers handling the orders and cleaning the occasional vacant table. He made it look easy, welcoming as he talked with every person who entered the shop.

Earlier, he had shown me how to work the different beverage machines as well as the cash register.
I immediately knew it would take some time for me to even successfully serve the simplest cup of hot cocoa.

By the second hour, I caught myself sizing up every person who approached the counter, silently pointing out possible weaknesses.
If he were to point a gun at me, would I be able to throw a mug of hot coffee at him and tackle him to the ground before he pulled the trigger?

If she refused to pay the price for that ridiculously pricy cup of cappuccino, how fast would I be able to latch onto her puffy jacket, slap her makeup-covered face and reclaim the cup? Four seconds? Five?

"You want to help me out a little here, Cass?" I turned away from studying a young couple by the window, and looked up at Julian behind the counter. On the other side stood an elderly man, squinting his eyes as he read the menu.

"Can you see if we have any blueberry muffins in the back? I remember getting a new batch yesterday," he told me, grabbing a coffee cup and heading for one of the coffee machines. I nodded in acknowledgement and made my way to where I remembered the bakery products were stored.

The red-haired girl, Lisa, exited the toilet as I passed it. I felt her stare at me when I stopped by the unboxed muffins.

"If you're only here because Julian works here, I would suggest to stop wasting both of our times and get out," she snapped. 

"You're not that good at reading people, are you?" I answered, grabbing the whole box just in case he needed more for later. I turned around. "Since I came, have I ever swooned over Julian? Have I tried to stand closer to him or flirted with him? Have I looked at you as if you were competition? I'm not against you sizing me up, I do it all the time. But you should at least have some background info or a damn reason before you start picking fights with strangers."

She looked me up, her eyes looking at me in suspicion. I walked past her with the box of muffins in my hands. She mumbled something about Julian before I moved out of earshot and returned to the coffee shop.

When his shift had ended, Julian asked if we could stop by the bar before going home. He needed to return something to Travis. I shrugged, not bothered by a small stop on the way back.

The parking areas around the bar were closed off because of construction work, leaving us to have to park outside a closed thrift shop. The walk was roughly ten minutes, but it felt longer when neither of us bothered to start a conversation. Strangely enough, the air between us wasn't tense and it didn't seem awkward.
The silence was nice.

We were in and out of the vacant bar in less than four minutes. I had only gotten to practice a couple of swings in the air around me on the empty fighting platform before Julian returned from the storage room and announced that we could go.

"Will you take the job?" he finally asked as he held the door open for me on the way out.

I nodded, kicking a small stone into a trashcan outside the bar building, filling the alley with an echo of the metallic clang.

"I'm glad another one of my suggestions was so well received," he said cockily, smirking as he looked ahead.

I didn't answer, only clenched my jaw as I willed myself not to slap the smirk off his face. I usually only found such signs of cockiness in the fighting ring. At least, there I would be able to punch them as much as I wanted, throwing my irritation for arrogant people into my hits, wiping their cocky expressions clean.

Here, however, I could only look away to avoid his ego. He's giving you a place to stay, he is handing you a job, I chanted in my head as I swallowed my irritation and walked by him toward the car.

I was about to ask him what days I would be working, when my legs were swiped out from under me.

Out of reflex, my arms shot out in front of me to brace myself for the ground that was rushing to meet me. My palms scraped against the uneven ground before I twisted and rolled to the side. I jumped up and away from the incoming kick that was aimed at my ribcage.

I immediately recognized the young man in front of me. His dark brown hair was styled in a side part, his longer hair swept to one side while the other side was clean cut. He was the man from the bar, the one who had most likely been part of the rigid conversation on the balcony.

I heard a grunt a couple paces to my right, and saw Julian push another man away from him. I surveyed the open area around us. There were three men. Two of them looked like they were in their twenties, while the third one looked to be a little older.

No one attacked.

The other, unrecognizable men stood back as the man from the bar took a confident step forward.

"Long time no see, Roxy," he smiled icily, looking at me with an expression of satisfaction. I recognized the voice from the conversation above me in the bar, but couldn't help but think that I had heard it before.

"Am I supposed to know who you are?" I questioned, my mind working hard to try to figure out where I had seen him before. Green eyes, dark brown hair, and he seemed to be holding a grudge towards me.

"Don't you remember me?" he asked mockingly. "Or has your vacation away from Range Lake made you forget all of your opponents?" As he gestured to himself, his sleeve dropped back. I could make out an R and L with a black snake curled around the letters, the tattoo starting at his wrist before disappearing under his sleeve.

It was the tattoo the gangs in Range Lake wore.

I stared back up at him as a fading memory resurfaced.

It was the last fight I had fought before my mother had died. This man had been tipsy when he had challenged me to the fight, thinking I would be easy to beat. He had made comments about it, and laughed with a few of his drunker friends. Shortly after, I had played around with him, using him as a practice dummy rather than a challenger. His slightly drunken state had made the 'fight' even easier.

I would hardly call him an opponent.

How could I forget this buffoon and his outright tragic insults.

A man, with an unsettling amount of resentment, too.

He noticed the look of recognition on my face, as I had stupidly forgotten to remain expressionless. "That fight could have been a turning point for me." He chuckled darkly and sneered, "to think that a bitch with a stupid name like Roxy had prevented that."

I squared my shoulders without thinking.

"You're blaming me for your downfall because you were stupid enough to underestimate a girl?" I asked teasingly. "That's depressing."

"I can blame you for everything, sweetie," he spat, "for losing the fight, for losing my bet, and therefore not achieving my rightful place as a gang leader."

"I fail to see how it's my fault you fight so unbelievably bad. Be happy that I put you down before you could embarrass yourself further."

From the corner of my eye, I noticed Julian looking at me confused.

The man shook his head, his laughter void of humor. His eyes gave way to the hatred he hadn't bothered to hide when he looked at me.

"Just know, now I have no reason to hold back." My eyebrow rose, not at all believing he had tried to hold anything back the last time we fought. "You'll regret what you've done."

My heart stopped for a beat.

Those words. I had read those exact words weeks ago.

It couldn't be. My face heated up, and I could barely contain the anger in my eyes as I glared into his smug ones. I breathed out, calming myself as I spoke up. "You're the robber, then."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he smiled, faking innocence as he cocked his head. "I promised you would regret ever crossing me, Roxy. I keep my promises."

Somehow, I doubted that last part was true. He didn't seem like the type who played by the rules and remained truthful to his word.

I took notice of his hands curling up in a fist by his sides. The two men behind him followed.

"I'll do much worse damage to you and your friend, than what you did to me in Range. I promise."