10:00 pm and Deon clocked in…literally. With one mean right hook, Deon’s balled up fist met the jaw of his opponent, clipping him immediately in the sweet spot. Deon couldn’t hear the cracking coming from the man’s jaw from the loud roar of spectators watching the scene, but his fist was able to feel the rigid bone structure cave in certain areas putting a rather satisfied smirk on his lip as he pulled his hand back. The man with the now broken jaw hit the cage wall hard and slumped to the ground in a pathetic heap. The uproar of the crowd around him forced his hands into the air in a victory stance, his golden eyes piercing through the metal cage he was enclosed in to those enjoying the show; but even their cheers and yells of excitement were drowned out by the club’s choice of music, a song that usually played when Deon was on a hot streak.

“Lllllllllllllladies and gentlemen! Give it up for New York’s favorite fighter! Darth D!”

The announcer, barely audible above the bar’s noises, was seemingly heard as the volume increased ten-fold, making Deon’s ears start to pound. He hadn’t been too fond of the nickname he was given, it was sort of something the announcer just decided to start calling him once he began to work at the Spit. But the frequents seemed to like it; and it got his face plastered around all over the city, so he didn’t mind.

“Someone scrape this donkey shit off of my ring!” Deon shouted to the crowd, obviously very into the attention he was getting and in response, one of the clubs bouncers entered the caged ring and dragged out the unconscious man that Deon had just been fighting. Deon followed after the bouncer, leaving the cage and forced his way through the crowd that had gathered since he had started fighting until he reached the bar. He tapped the counter twice, signaling for the bartender to grab him his usual and took a moment to look over The Spit and its crowd. The bar tender had just pulled out a frozen glass and began to pour the clear, fiery liquid into it when Deon put his hand on the bar tender’s arm, motioning for him to leave the bottle and then took the bottle from him, drinking straight out from the top.

Not even moments later, a small group of women approached him with very suggestive looks on their faces. Deon set the bottle down; his interest now peaked as the one in the tight red leather dress promptly sat down on his lap.

“That was some fight you did out there.” The girl in the green dress said as the one in the red dress began to nibble on his ear and neck.

“Hell of a fight, tell me; have you ever been beaten?” The girl in the blue dress asked, moving so that she was behind Deon and put her hands down onto his chest, pressing her own chest up against his back. Deon was only too happy to oblige.

“No ma’am, you’re looking at an undefeated champ.” He smirked, picking up the bottle once again letting the girl in the blue massage his chest while the girl in the red continued to nibble on him. The girl in the green then took this as her chance and pushed the bottle away from his lips, pressing her own lips to his while her hands danced tugged at his hair.

God he loved going to work.

So that was the famous Darth D in action. His performance had exceeded all expectations. His confidence inside and outside the ring was not only inspiring but extremely attractive as well. It was no wonder a swarm of girls had come to him when he sat at the bar.

It had been a while since Angel had visited The Spit. She had stopped going there since she became the head of the Wolves, as the position had her very busy most of the time. Even that night, she wasn't at the bar for pleasure. She was on a mission herself: to recruit a certain tattooed man who knew how to fight. It wasn't like Angel to go out of her way to ask someone to join her gang, but as far as she was concerned, the infamous Darth D would be an excellent asset.

Angel was sitting at the opposite end of the bar from her target. She was sipping quietly on a mug of cold beer, waiting for a good opportunity to approach him.

"You here all alone, sexy?"

Angel tensed slightly as a pair of strange arms wrapped around her shoulders and a man, obviously inebriated, had placed his face up close to hers. His breath was hot and reeked of alcohol.

Without even bothering to merit the piece of garbage with a reply, Angel turned her head back and elbowed him in the ribcage with her free hand, causing him to gasp and let go of her immediately.

"What the fuck is your problem you little bitch?" he seethed, glaring at her and rubbing the spot where she had elbowed him.

Angel put her glass down on the bar and stood up.

"I'm not here to fucking play games," Angel replied. Her tone was calm but cold. "Not to mention you just made me spill some of my beer."

She slowly walked up to him. Her body language was very seductive but she had something else in mind for the poor man. Angel got up close to him and placed her smooth arms on his shoulder and then traced her fingers up to his face. He was obviously not expecting a response, so he was caught slightly off guard. Then, quick as a flash, Angel gripped the man by the sides of his face and with a grunt, headbutted the poor bastard square in his forehead, causing him to yelp and crumple to the ground. A few men hooted at her with laughs.

Angel stood above the man with her hands on her hips and a devious smirk on her mouth.

"Aww, did I hurt you?" she asked in a babyish voice, though she knew full well he was unconscious. "It's a shame I'm here on business. You're kind of cute."

With that she sighed and flipped her golden hair, deciding now would be the best time to approach Darth D, who was still being caressed by the group of girls. She came up to them slowly, thinking of a way she could get the fighter's attention.

Deciding on a nonviolent approach, she figured fangirling him would be a good approach. She glanced down to make sure she looked as good as ever. A white tank top hugged stomach and showed off her bust quite well, and her toned legs were complimented by high-waisted shorts. Angel regreted not coming in a dress, but she needed as much mobility as possible.

Finally, she came up to the group. She stood in front of them at first to make sure she was slightly visible to him. She flipped her hair and stared at him with her dazzling blue eyes for a moment before getting even closer, tracing her fingers up and down one of his arms.

"Wow, what powerful arms..." she murmured in a higher-than-normal voice. "No wonder why you're the best fighter in all of New York. Talk about super sexy."

She gazed at him, hoping he wasn't too distracted by the three girls that were giving him the same treatment.

It was impossible for Deon to hear the slight scuffle happening from across the room mainly because of the blaring music and chatty crowd, but it didn't help that the blood was quickly draining from his head to stimulate...other areas. He jerked slightly feeling a soft touch on his arm, mostly out of instinct and pulled his lips away from the girl practically trying to get to second base with him right then and there. He tilted his head slightly, looking at the new blonde girl at his side and tried to focus in on her features but the half-bottle of Vodka swirling around in his bloodstream was having other ideas, and kept his vision a bit hazy. He didn't even actually register her words until a few long moments later where he just smirked and made an effort to flex his arm muscle where her hand was, proving her own statement true.

"Wassup girl? Where-wher-wh-where you been? I haven't seen you 'round here before..." He slurred heavily and then pulled his arm away from the blonde, just for a moment to reach back to the bar and pick up his bottle and take another drink. He set the bottle back down once his thirst was quenched and put his hand on the woman in the red dress's ass, pushing her to the side so that she was only taking up one of his legs rather than his lap, and then patted to his free leg. "Room for one more..." He grinned cheekily, wiggling his finger at her for her to come closer.

The girl in the blue dress, worried that she had lost his attention for a moment, grazed her teeth across his neck sending goosebumps across his bare, sweaty arms and neck. He couldn't help but to chuckle and turn to kiss the girl in blue while the girl in red took her turn to nibble at his neck.

Angel frowned when he slurred his speech at her, going to kiss another girl before she even had a chance to answer him, not that he would even register her answer for that matter. This wasn't an ideal situation for her. He was too drunk and too distracted. But to humor him, Angel got in his now free leg, lacing one arm around his neck. She was thinking again, thinking of how she could get him alone. The only idea that came to her head may not have been the best one, but she figured in his state of mind he might go along.

"These bitches are all talk, you know," Angel said loud enough over the music. "If you really want to see something impressive..." She reached forward and placed her hands dangerously close to the edge of his sport shorts. "You can come home with me, and I'll give you a time you'll never forget."

Deon pulled away from the girl in blue, but that didn't stop her from grinding up against him and nipping at the other side of his neck the second their lips parted. His golden eyes squinted a bit in yet again another effort to focus in on the blonde, but all he could really make out was the size of her chest. He pursed his lips in a bit of a smolder, appreciating what he saw before looking back to where he assumed her eyes were.

"So you wan'me to-to leave work early so I can...um..." He let out a small laugh as one of the girls started to snake her hand up his leg and under his shorts. "Alright alright alright..." Deon made a small effort to get the girls off of him, promising them all free drinks for the rest of the night which seemed to shake them lose for a moment, but thats all he needed. He put his hands on the blonde's hips and helped her off his leg before staggering to stand up. "What...what were we doing again?" He asked, scratching the back of his sweaty neck.

Angel smiled at him warmly and took his hand. Thankfully, the other girls in dresses seemed to be momentarily distracted with his promise of free drinks for the rest of the night. Girls like that didn't sit well with Angel. They were just being openly flirty with him because they were sluts. Angel, on the other hand, was much more manipulative. Everything she did had a purpose with the intention of some kind of gain.

Angel came close to him and got her mouth close to his ear, just inches away.

"You're going to show me if you're as good in bed as you are in the ring. I have a spot just a few blocks down where we can go." She stepped away for a second and tugged his arm, nodding her head toward the door, flashing him a reassuring smile.

Deon's somewhat confused expression turned immediatly into a playful smirk and nodded once, opening up his arm in a gesture for her to lead the way, however as she started to walk, he walked by her side, putting his arm around the small of her back and letting his hand rest just above her ass, his other hand reaching out to grab what was left of his vodka bottle.

Angel flipped her hair, resisting every urge her instincts told her to turn around and punch him in the face. She allowed him to keep his hand exactly where it was and she led him outside of the hot, crowded bar and into the warm summer evening air outside. The streets were mostly deserted, which was good for Angel. She had to be careful about showing her face around in public, being the leader of a gang and all.

She was planning to take Deon to abandoned building just a few blocks down from the Spit. The Wolves used it to keep extra stockpiles of supplies, or it was used as a sketchy-looking place to intimidate victims. After a few minutes of walking, they arrived at the base of the building, which had been a shop at one point. The windows were all broken and the threshold had no door on its hinges anymore.

"It's a fixer-upper," Angel explained as she lead him inside, toward the back and up a few flights of stairs until they came to an empty room with an old bed and a window still intact somehow. Once they were inside, Angel let go of Deon's hand and she walked over to the window for a second, scanning the outside for any police activity.

"So tell me, Mr. Darth D..." she said, still facing away from him. She paused for a second before turning around to face him squarely.

"Have you ever killed a man?" her voice retained its unnervingly calm tone. Her blue eyes glinted in the dark of the night.

Deon stumbled over to the bed, practically collapsing onto the old matress on his chest, hearing the old springs creak and groan under his weight. He only lifted his head for a moment, trying to get the last bit of alchohol out of the glass bottle in his hand before he rendered it useless and tossed it at the wall, reveling in the sound of shattering glass hitting the hardwood floor. He chuckled at himself a bit before (with great effort) pulled himself so that he was sitting up to look at the blonde, waiting for her to make her move. When she spoke, his face seemed unchanged, almost goofy-like in his cheeky grin.

"S'Deon." He said after a few silent minutes, his brain not even registering her last question. "My name...'s Deon." He attempted to clarify. "Just so you know what to scream out when I wreck you..."

Angel crossed her arms. So much for intimidation. He was too drunk to even notice her last question. She hadn't brought him up there with the intention of sleeping with him, but that's what Deon's one-track drunk mind was set on at the moment.

"Deon..." Angel repeated, coming closer to him. "I'm afraid I haven't been completely honest with you..." She came and sat next to him on the old mattress and she placed one cheek gently on the stubble of his cheek.

"I'm going to need you to focus on what I'm saying, okay?" she asked, trying to take the good-girl approach to this.

"Yeah yeah girl, I hear ya." Deon slurred a bit, putting his arm around her as she got closer, letting his fingers trail down her lower back and eventually grabbing hold of her ass and gave it a hard squeeze. He nuzzled her soft cheek with his stubbled one before dipping his head down to start to kiss at her neck.

Angel moaned softly as he kissed at her neck, but she wouldn't be fazed. She was too experienced for something like this to keep her from his goal. Maybe it would be good to go along with this but to keep their little conversation going.

"Have you ever heard of the Amaranth Wolves...?" she asked as he continued to kiss her neck. She needed to stay on topic here.

He moved his free hand to the blonde's waist, pulling her onto his lap and close to him as he kissed up her neck until his nose was practically burried in her hair. He inhaled deeply, thinking that he was taking in the sweet smell of her shampoo and let a deep growl resound from his throat.

"Wolves?" He barely muffled out before kissing back down her neck, putting his hand on her back to press her chest into him further.

"Yes, the Amaranth Wolves," she repeated, trying to keep her eyes and lips away from his. Drunk people were so hard to control or convince. They were almost fearless. "They're a gang..." She had to pause as another groan unknowingly escaped her lips as he pressed her closer toward him. "Have you... Have you heard of them?"

"If you wanted a drink baby, you should have just asked." Deon snickered, his brain obviously not functioning all too well and taking a minute to actually try to understand her words. He brought one hand over from her back, trailing it up her arm until he reached her nearly bare shoulder, save for a small strip of fabric keeping her tanktop up. He fiddled with the strap a bit and started to pull it down her shoulder slowly.

Angel noticed what he was trying to do and her hand instinctively flew to where his hand was, catching it gently. He was hopeless. It was stupid of her to think she'd be able to recruit him when he was a few drinks away from being black-out drunk. But she had no time to wait for him to sober up.

She gently pulled his hand away from the strap of her tank top and turned to face him directly. She placed her hands on his shoulders and get dangerously close to his face.

"What if I told you you'd never have to go back to your job again?" she asked, but immediately questioned if that was the right way to word it. From the looks of it, he seemed to enjoy what he was doing quite a lot. Well, he was probably too drunk to notice either way.

"I can take care of you..." she whispered, trying to sound as tender as possible.

Deon didn't look too phased by the fact that she kept him from undressing her; to him, it was all a game and she was a fierce competitor. Those girls always had the best prizes. He tilted his head to the side while she got closer to him, able to focus on at least the color of her eyes for a moment, her words droning in and out into a low hum. He wrapped both his arms around her, holding her close to him with a soft expression.

"I thought I was the one supposed to be taking care of you?" He questioned, still keeping his head tilted to the side, almost looking like a confused puppy aside from the fact that his eyes kept glancing to her tempting lips.

"Sometimes things don't work out how we think they will," Angel answered simply, staring into his golden eyes. She really hoped he wouldn't feel anything for her after this, if he did end up joining the Wolves. He didn't seem like the kind of guy to get attached, but unfortunately hormones did not listen to reason.

"My name is Angel McBride..." she whispered. "Have you ever heard of me?" She leaned forward and planted a very light and extremely teasing kiss on his lips before pulling away and looking at him expectantly, with a similar puppy-like expression plastered on her soft face.

Deon practically growled in protest when she pulled her lips away from him, but it was much more in disappointment than in a threat. He had no problem taking his time with a woman.

"Should I? I don't usually ask other guys who the best fuck is around here." He replied simply with a shrug of his broad shoulders and then leaned in for another kiss.

Angel hesitated on reciprocating the kiss for a moment. So he hadn't heard of her. Or maybe he had and couldn't connect the dots. Either way, that method didn't work either. Maybe she had to be more direct with him...

"I'm the leader of a gang," she whispered at last, kissing him lightly on the lips again, continuing her teasing routine. He wouldn't get what he wanted until she got what she wanted.

Her lips curved into a sexy smile as she looked up at his golden eyes.

"How would you like to join us?" she asked. Her face came up close to her neck and she breathed against his skin that still had beads of sweat on it.

"I promise I don't bite... hard," she crooned.

Deon just let out a soft moan as she talked, letting his lips move down her chin and back down her neck to her collarbone, only quarterly listening to her words. Something about being a leader, and joining some kind of club?

"Baby I'll do whatever you want, so long as you do bite hard." He half growled, half laughed into her soft skin.

Angel grinned. He was drunk, but at least he agreed. Still, she needed to make extra sure he wouldn't screw her over after making some mistaken drunken promise.

"Do I have your word?" she asked, holding onto his back and keeping him close to him. At this point she realized how stupid it was of her to not bring a weapon, not even a knife. Still, they were already low on supplies at that point and time, and she figured the other members of her gang would need more protection that she did right then. At least, protection from danger...

"I need you to promise me..." she half-moaned half-whispered.

He parted his lips only slightly and let a slow stream of hot air blow from his lips and down her neck. "Mhhm..." He agreed in a low groan, kissing back up her neck to the area just behind her ear and letting his hands wander to her shoulders in an attempt to slide the straps off of her once more. "Whatever you want Angel Baby." He breathed hotly into her ear in a low whisper.

Angel was content. That was as good of an answer as she was going to get out of him at that moment. She was wondering if it was a mistake to do all this while he was drunk, but maybe he'd remember, if not just bits and pieces... Besides, no one ever broke a promise with Angel... and lived.

This time, Angel allowed Deon to slip the straps of her tank top down past her shoulders, and she smirked, knowing that he'd enjoy the eyecandy of her breasts.

"You be a good boy and keep your promise now," she reminded him before she let him have his way with her.

It was nearly noon before Deon's golden eyes slowly opened, followed by an irritated growl as he moved to sit up and hold his head. He took a moment to run his fingers through the part of his thick head of hair before even bothering to look at his surroundings. The first thing he noticed was the lack of decoration the room held, and then how old the bed he was now sitting on was. It wasn't until a gentle breeze rolled in from the cracked window that Deon realized that he was completely naked aside from a thin sheet covering him from the waist down, and upon his realization couldn't help but grin. If only he could remember his superior performance from the night before.

Angel had gotten up long before him that morning. Actually, she had been awake since dawn. That gave her plenty of time to get up, get dressed, and even head back to the Wolves hideout very quickly to get changed into a T-shirt and a pair of shorts and to also grab a small, jagged dagger that would be her backup plan in case Deon was going to be... difficult. She knew that Deon wouldn't wake up for at least a couple more hours because of how drunk he was. Though he might not remember what he promised, Angel would remember for him. He was going to come back with her whether he wanted to or not. She was not ashamed of what she did to get the new recruit.

She had been sitting outside the room, leaning her back against the cracked plaster wall, waiting and listening for movement from the inside. She was whittling a dead tree branch for about an hour before she heard a guttural growl come from inside. It was about time. She dropped the stick on the ground and stood up. Before she went inside, she quickly concealed the small dagger inside her shorts' pocket.

"Good morning, Champ," she called out to him in a sprightly, cheery voice as she sauntered inside with a smirk playing on her lips. "Did you sleep well?"

Deon was in the process of pulling up his sports shorts when the door opened and looked to the blonde that came in. He grumbled a bit in agitation as he finished pulling up his shorts. Where the hell did she come off with wishing him a 'good morning'? He then stood up straight and gestured to her and then him, and then her again. "Did we fuck?" He asked blatently. His golden eyes looked her over in a slight moment of appreciation before he began to search the room for his shoes.

Angel sighed and played with her hair a little to increase its body a bit. She watched him search the rather drab room for his shoes for a moment. She was hoping he remembered at least a little bit of what he had promised. He seemed to be a bit of a womanizer, but would he go so far as to hit her if she got a little aggressive? Not that she couldn't take a hit, but he was especially strong and trained for fighting with his hands.

"I presume you don't remember anything then?" Angel asked with a tired exhale of breath. "Do you remember anything about... gangs?"

She caught sight of a shoelace peeking out from underneath the bed and she came and grabbed them both from under it, dropping them to the floorn near him. They clanked dully as they hit the hard ground.

"I don't remember you if that's what you're asking." Deon replied sharply, about ready to flip over the bed in his frustration of not being able to find his own shoes. "You can always try again tonight though." He added on as a not-so-excited-sounding suggestion. Hearing the thump on the floor next to him, he turned to see his shoes which the blonde had found.

"Hey hey hey! Watch it! Those are hardened leather!" He hissed at her, immediately snatching his shoes up and sat down on the edge of the bed, wiping off any scuffs that the harsh drop could have caused before pulling them on before muttering under his breath, "Dumb bitch..."

Angel's eyebrow twitched at his comment. What did he just call her? Was he really going to treat her like that after she knew she had given him one of the best nights of his life? Momentarily losing control of her temper, Angel reached into her pocket and gripped the hilt of her dagger.

Then she realized that was not wise. She took a deep breath and released her grip on her weapon and laughed softly.

"I'm so sorry baby," she said, mockingly apologetic. "I swear I didn't mean to."

That was close. She would only let so many slip-ups like that go.

She came and sat down next to him on the old bed. Deon was sober enough now to handle everything at once, so Angel just let it out.

"My name is Angel McBride," she began, feeling déjà vu from the night before. "I'm the leader of the Amaranth Wolves, and you agreed..." She cleared her throat. "You promised to join us last night."

She turned to look him in the eyes. This time, her blue eyes had lost their softness; they were cold as ice now.

Deon didn't bother to look at her until both his shoes were on tight, which left her finishing her little speech and waiting for an answer. He rested his hand on his knee as he turned to look at her, his brows quirked in a mocking 'are you fucking with me right now?' fashion.

"Uh huh..." He moved to stand up and headed towards the door. "Hate to disappoint you Angel Baby, but I promise a lot of things when I'm trying to get what I want." He said stopping at the door to turn and look at her. "Oh, which reminds me, you're gonna need to speak with my agent, he has a little waiver thing I need you to sign about any potential kids you might have and how I don't give a shit and hold no responsibility." He pointed at her and winked. "Thanks baby." He chuckled and turned back to open the door.

There was no way she was going to let him go that easy. It was now or never. Ignoring his comment about the "potential kids," (which she wasn't worry about because she was prepared), Angel grabbed her dagger and whipped it out. Quickly, she jogged up behind him, placing one arm around his neck. With her other hand, she pressed the dagger close enough to his skin that he'd feel the sharp point, but she didn't apply enough pressure to draw blood.

"I'm sorry about this babe," she whispered quietly. "But no one screws over Angel McBride... You'd be such a good addition, it'd be a shame if I had to kill you right here."

He stopped the moment he felt the point pressing up against his neck. He had been in plenty of fights outside the ring to know what a knife felt like, but never from a woman. He closed his eyes for a moment and let out a soft sigh.

"Well actually...I did kind of screw you over..." He smirked in an attempt at a light joke. He put up his hands though, much like how you would when a police officer was searching a person, and very slowly, began to turn to face her, ignoring the blade ripping a small line in his skin as he turned and a small amount of blood trickling down to his collarbone.

He didn't stop until his back was against the door and his golden eyes looking down on the blonde...Angel.

"Alright you got my attention. What do you want?"

Angel was somewhat surprised that he actually stopped and turned to listen to her. Though given that he let the blade lightly cut his neck without any reaction proved that he wasn't scared at all. He probably could've overpowered her, but maybe he was intrigued.

She stared at him for a few seconds before lowering her dagger and sighing.

"Thank you, that's all I wanted," she replied with relief laden in her voice. She took a deep breath to calm her nerves before continuing. She was completely prepared to kill him, but it was nice that he didn't make her do it.

"As I was saying..." she said, "I'm sure you've heard of the Amaranth Wolves... Although last night you didn't sound too familiar with us, so I'll elaborate for you."

"My mind was elsewhere..."

"We're a pretty prominent gang around these parts. We're mostly kids that don't have a home or a family; but we rely on one another to mutually get what we all need. We're the family that some people... Never got the chance to have."

Angel looked down as she said the last sentence, but she quickly regained her composure and locked eyes with Deon once again. What she didn't notice, however, was that Deon's reaction was very much the same to her own.

"I've seen how you fight," she said. "I've come to ask you to join us. We could really use someone like you. Plus you're protected from the police... At least, more than you would be on your own."

She paused and thought if she had anything more to add, but at the moment she was drawing a blank so she stared back at him, waiting for an answer.

His eyebrow quirked in interest the moment she mentioned protection from the police. It made sense, really. The wolves pretty much ran this town the way he saw it; the police around here having less guts than a bug on a windshield when it came to those kind of things.

"Yeah? But does it come with girls?" He asked, cracking a cheeky grin, however the undertone he spoke with would immediately tell Angel that he was in.

Angel smiled and sassily whipped her hair at him. She had visually lightened up as she saw how his attitude had almost changed completely. It looked like her mission had been a success after all. Good.

"Well, I'm in the gang," she said. "Isn't that all you need?"

Deon moved his hand to his neck where he wiped up the small droplets of blood with his fingers and examined them for a moment.

"Meh, if that's all you got to offer." He shrugged and then wiped his fingers over the breast of her shirt, leaving a small trail of blood over it. "Here, have some AIDS." He jested with a smile, obviously kidding.