The Girl in the Alley

“It’s going to be okay, Ari… it’s going to be okay,” Aria whispered to herself as she pushed through the back-alley exit. Her breathing was shaky. She stepped outside—

A hand shot out of the dark and yanked her back.

She gasped, but a palm clamped over her mouth. “Shhhh,” the man hissed against her ear. “No need to be scared. We’re not here to hurt you.” More men emerged from deeper in the alley, boxing her in, shadows closing around her. “Well… at least we’re not going to hurt you,” another added with a smirk.

Aria thrashed wildly, muffled screams ripping from her throat. She tried to kick, twist, anything. Panic surging like electricity through her limbs.

Then a sharp voice cut through the alley. “HEY.”

The men turned.

John stood at the mouth of the alley, chest heaving from the run, eyes locked on Aria.

“This doesn’t concern you, pal,” one of the men snapped. “Get lost.”

“Yeah,” another chimed in. “Pretend you didn’t see anything.”

John didn’t respond. He simply shifted his footing, shoulders angled, fists raised.

Two of the men burst out laughing. “Look at this clown—”

They didn’t get to finish.

John stepped in fast—one clean cross straight to the first man’s chin.

Crack

The man collapsed instantly, out cold before he hit the ground.

The second lunged, but John grabbed him by the neck, spun him, and slammed the side of his head into the brick wall. He crumpled like a dropped coat.

The man restraining Aria stiffened. “You two—pull your knives! Take this guy out!” Two blades flashed as the last men stepped forward.

John exhaled once, steady.

The two men tightened their grips on their knives and spread out, one circling left, the other right.

John stayed still, eyes tracking both.

The first man lunged, slashing at John’s ribs.

John twisted aside, grabbing the man’s wrist and ramming an elbow into his forearm. The knife clattered to the ground. Before the attacker could react, John drove a knee into his stomach, folding him over, then finished with a quick, clean punch to the jaw. The man dropped instantly.

The second attacker didn’t hesitate. He moved in fast, swiping upward.

The blade grazed across John's right face cheek, a sharp sting cutting through the adrenaline.

He hissed under his breath, then stepped forward with controlled precision, deflecting the next slash with his forearm, then grabbed the attacker’s sleeve and pulled him off balance. A quick pivot—John drove his shoulder into the man’s chest, slamming him onto the pavement.

The man tried to rise, but John struck once—controlled, efficient. The attacker went limp. He looked up at the last standing man, the one holding Aria.

The man’s grip tightened on her, eyes darting between John and the unconscious bodies on the ground.

John stepped forward slowly. “Let her go.”

Aria began to slowly slip into unconsciousness. The fear, the struggle, the sound of bodies hitting the ground—all of it blurred together. Her ears rang. Her own breathing felt too loud. The man behind her tightened his grip, and her vision tunneled. Her last clear image was John turning toward her—eyes fierce, blood running down his cheek.

“Don’t come any closer, man. I’ll cut her, I swear I’ll kill her!”

John didn’t answer. He picked up the two knives from the ground and aimed them at the last man.

“What are you doing—”

The first knife flashed through the air, slicing the man’s ear open. He screamed, clutching the side of his head.

John raised the second knife, his voice low and cold. “The next one won’t just cut you.”

The man froze, blood running down his neck as John kept the second knife leveled at him.

“Let. Her. Go.”

Shaking, the man pushed Aria forward and bolted out of the alley, stumbling as he ran. He didn’t look back. Aria’s knees buckled the moment she was released. John dropped the knife and caught her before she hit the ground, gathering her gently into his arms.

“Aria… hey.” He brushed her hair aside, checking her pulse with two fingers pressed to her neck. Steady. Fast from fear, but steady. He then checked her eyes—unresponsive. Unconscious, not injured.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. “Mei?”

Her voice was sharp. “I saw the street cam. How is she?”

“She’s unconscious,” John said, lifting Aria carefully. “But she’s breathing.”

“Good. I already called emergency services,” Mei replied. “Ambulance is on the way. Don’t move her too much.”

John adjusted his hold, keeping Aria close as he knelt in the alley, eyes scanning the darkness for any sign the attackers might return.

*****

Aria woke up to the soft beeping of a monitor. Her vision slowly cleared, and the first thing she saw was John, sitting beside her bed with a bandage running across his right cheek.

“What… happened?” she whispered.

John leaned forward. “You passed out half an hour ago. Nothing serious happened to you—they just gave you an IV.”

Aria lifted her hand shakily toward him. He gently took it.

“I’m… I’m sorry for sneaking out,” she said, her voice weak and rough from everything she’d been through. “I only wanted to see my friends and hang out with them. It’s… it’s my fault your face got hurt.”

John gave her a small, calm smile. “Don’t be. What’s done is done. And I’m not going to stop you from seeing your friends. I’ll just be there for you—so I can protect you if something goes wrong.”

Aria blinked, then smiled weakly. “Then… I’ll be in your care from now on, Mr. Mercer.”

John glanced toward the door and saw Rina hurrying down the hallway. He stood up. “You can call me John. Rest now.”

Rina burst into the room breathlessly. “Oh, Aria…”

Aria’s face crumpled the moment she saw her sister. She reached out, and Rina rushed to her side, hugging her tightly. Aria broke down, crying into her chest.

“I’m so sorry, Rina… I shouldn’t have gone to the club. I should’ve listened to you…”

Rina stroked her hair, fighting her own tears. “You’re safe now. That’s what matters.”

As the two sisters held each other, John quietly stepped back, giving them space. He turned toward the door but stopped when Rina looked up at him, eyes red and grateful.

“Thank you, Mr. Mercer… for saving my little sister.”

He nodded once, respectfully, and stepped out of the room.

*****

Outside the hospital, John leaned against the wall, one foot braced up behind him, smoking a cigarette and lost in thought.

A biker in a red jacket and jeans came speeding down the street, stopping the moment she spotted him. She swung off the bike and walked toward him. John looked at her from the corner of his eye.

“Thanks for the support, Mei,” he said, the cigarette still hanging from the side of his mouth.

She lifted the visor of her helmet. “How did you know it was me?”

John took the cigarette out of his mouth to exhale. “Not a lot of six-foot, tattooed, muscular women around here.”

He gave a quick glance at the snake tattoo that curled from her clavicle down toward her lower abdomen. “Nice tattoo.”

She nodded and came to stand beside him. “That right side of your face is like a scar magnet.”

“Yeah. Just my luck.”

After a moment of silence, Mei asked, “How was your first day?”

“Not gonna lie—could’ve been worse,” John said.

“So, who are you suspicious of?” she asked.

“Too soon to make judgments like that. I only met them for a little while. Need to sleep on it. But…”

“But what?”

John continued, “A black SUV. I saw it back away from headquarters after I stared at it, and I saw the same SUV on Venus Club Street while I was running there.”

“I saw one pass the street camera after you entered the alley. How do you know it was the same SUV?” she asked. “The license plate,” he said. “I memorized it. Both were the same.”

“Give it to me and I’ll search for the owner,” she said. “You did very well today, John. Go home and rest. I’ll pick you up tomorrow and take you to their place. You’ll be staying at their place until this case is over.”

John dropped the cigarette and crushed it under his heel.

“Want a ride?” she asked.

“No. Want to walk and clear my mind.” He started down the sidewalk. “Thanks again for today, Mei.”

*****

Inside the black SUV, the driver gripped the wheel with one hand, phone pressed to his ear with the other. From the trunk came muffled, desperate sounds against taped-over lips.

“Yeah,” he said, voice low and strained, “I’m a hundred percent sure it’s him. Yes, the same guy. We’re not going at her like that anymore. We need precise shots this time.” More thudding and struggling came from the trunk. “I’ll update you after I deal with the extra load in the back. Call you later.”

He tossed the phone aside, sky-blue eyes narrowing as he glanced at the rearview mirror. “This is a small world, Johnny boy,” he muttered. “Too small for the both of us to breathe in.”