Becoming Defiant •• OneRepublic {3}

From Ashes

Ramona's P.O.V.

Not long before the discovery of the band and the other girls, Ramona had gone on a walk without knowing a thing about what had happened. As a matter of fact, she had bigger things to deal with, if that was at all possible.

Her father had gotten his way out of Daryl's close supervision. Or, rather, Daryl's loose supervision because Ryan was not there to lecture him about it. And somehow he'd gotten word of where his daughter had been taken as well.

Even though she didn't have a nice gym for five days, the owner of the hotel - the generous Rebel - pulled some strings to get her a bit of workout equipment of his own. Of the equipment was a punching bag, and a nice one, too. It was put in the basement of the hotel, where hardly anyone went.

She took the opportunity away from her father to train harder than ever before. It blew off steam and helped her avoid the others. She even tried encouraging Ryan to do the same, knowing his missed his scenic morning jogs, but he was too grim to even try. She was unsure how to help him and hated it, for he always did so well at helping her. If it was believable, she was even in better mental shape than he was.

Yet, on this secret walk with her hood and sunglasses on, away from Rebel eyes, she realized someone was following her. After five damn days of peace, the devilish man had the nerve to show up. Ramona, however, had vowed to herself that she wouldn't be as weak as she was before. She wouldn't be as weak as she had been with him her whole life.

She could only hope that her vows to fight back weren't just words this time.

Ramona turned the corner once she was at least a couple of blocks from the hotel. She wound around one of the twisting, dark alleyways to find herself in a sort of clearing. It looked like a basketball court that had been abandoned years ago. Graffiti-covered brick reminded her of a place gangs would go to fight, and it being a place for drug dealing was also evident by the pair of Converse hanging by the electrical wire above.

Ramona took her sunglasses off and shoved them in one of the large pockets of her jacket. She was glad she could see a little more clearly, especially when he finally came behind her, out of the alleyway she'd entered from.

"Ramona." Said her father. Ramona turned to face him, glaring with her fists at her sides. Her voice was there and she was grateful for it - it was step one.

"Why are you here? How did you get away from the Rebels?"

"Don't worry about the hows, just the whys."

"Fine. So then answer my first question."

Her teeth were clenched and she was sure they would break if she didn't relax. But she couldn't.

For a split second, as she realized her nervousness was replaced with anger and violence, she grew worried she was turning into him. With the aggressive thoughts running through her mind, she didn't want to stoop to his level. Yet the only other option was to let him hit her. And that was not going to happen, not again.

Just pretend he's that punching bag. She would tell herself in her mind. But then he began to talk and Ramona, though not forced to listen, still hung onto every word.

"I need to talk to you, that's why. A real talk this time."

"By real talk do you mean you finally hurting me? Not gonna happen. Not this time. You stay away from me."

"Well, this would be a good opportunity to remind you of who's still in charge of you, since your dear Ryan's not here. Or Johana, never did like her."

"Get on with it."

"But I don't want to."

"You said that a few days ago. You really think I can trust you? After that? No chance."