A/N: This a re-written version of a story I published a few years ago. I have changed it from first-person to third-person. The plot is also going to be headed in different direction than it was earlier. I am open to suggestions as the story continues so please feel free to share your thoughts! :) Enjoy!

Chapter 1

"This is it." A rough voice broke through her nightmare. She quickly grabbed her duffel bag and hopped out of the truck. She thanked the driver and cut through the grubby parking lot towards the bar. She felt lucky that this truck driver was decent enough to not try anything lecherous around her. Some of the other men she had asked were not as kind a soul as him.

Making sure that the glittering purple scarf that Grandma Ann had given her on her twelfth birthday covered her neck and that the brown leather gloves she stole from her mam was up to her elbows, Marie walked into the bar.

All around her, there were screaming people and various odors. She could look at people and tell that they were not safe to be around. The men –and women, she might add –had a terrible glint in their eyes. They're slurred speech scratched her ears as the putrid smell of alcohol invaded her nostrils.

She noticed, looming almost all the way up to the ceiling, was a cage. The first thing she saw was a couple men dragging another, limp man out of the cage. She watched in horror as the two men left him on the floor while another one came and purposely spilt his beer on him.

She turned her eyes back to the man still inside the cage. The only thing she could see was his strong back, tensed with every muscle ready to attack. They were covered in an array of purple and red bruises. In comparison to the man on the floor, she thought that the man in the cage was a bit smaller but undoubtedly stronger.

"In all my years I have never seen anything like that! Who's next?" the emcee called out. People were still screaming in disapproval. "Are you gonna let 'im walk away with your money?" Shouts erupted from the crowd.

A burly, bald man in the back stood up and yelled, "I'll fight him!" Roars of endorsement followed him. Marie was pushed around a little as the man made his way through the crowd towards the cage. Her body stiffened as it collided with others.

"Ladies and gentlemen! Our savior!"

The man still in the cage held onto the fenced wall of the cage, trying to steady his breathing. Marie tried to get a closer look at the forthcoming fight. The laboring man threw away what seemed to be a shot glass. He held on to the cage.

Three digs from the bell later, the bald man attacked.

Baldy charged ahead, kicked the man on his back, toppling him over to the side, and then threw a punch. The wickedness of the crowd affected her, but she kept it in while they cheered. Baldy continually kicked the man. She pitied the man on the floor –she wondered why he hadn't won the crowd even when he had won.

The man was still on the floor of the cage. Everyone was content in approval. Baldy was ready to throw another punch when suddenly, the man shot his arm out as well, and the two fists collided.

A sickening crack echoed throughout the cage.

Marie held her breath as the entire bar went silent, the sound of the cracked bones still reverberating in their ears. The bruised man had an undistinguishable look on his face. He got up and from the side, she could see his angry grimace as he stalked Baldy as though he was a prey. It no longer looked like a fight for money, but more like a fight for territory.

With a few seconds, Bruised Man had won.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the emcee said again. "Tonight's winner and still undefeated, the Wolverine!" Series of boos and displeasure followed. Wolverine ignored them and took another drink from a shot glass.

Her heart was beating so hard, she thought the whole bar could hear it. She couldn't control it. How could she? Especially since Wolverine was sitting, drinking beer just five feet away from her. There was also the fact that the bartender already anticipated that she was planning on slipping some cash from the tip jar into her pockets and had given her a look before moving the jar behind him. As if that wasn't enough of a scare.

Wolverine was drinking beer and staring at the table as if he had no reason to cheer for the fact that he had just won a cage tournament. Marie had heard of these tournaments before and was told that most of the time, all the prize money would end being spent at the bar itself by the winner to celebrate the win. Wolverine was not in the mood.

She was almost ashamed to admit that he was somewhat handsome. He was much taller than most men she had seen back home in Mississippi or on her trip here. But of course, he didn't look like any ordinary man. His muscles seemed to bulge and strain from his leather jacket. His gelled dark brown hair drew down to long side burns almost into an untrimmed beard. A very rugged sort of handsome.

Two nondescript television anchors on the television in the corner of the bar began talking about a meeting for the world leaders at the summit. She saw him subtly raise his head when they mentioned "mutants" and she momentarily wondered if he was one or if he was another human who hated mutants. He must have realized he was being watched because he turned to her with a glare. They both glanced back at the television and back at each other, growing delicate suspicions towards one another.

Suddenly, Marie saw Baldy from the cage and another man behind him. Baldy's left eye was rimmed purple, and his lip was split. "I believe you owe me some moey," he said, trying to stady his glare on Wolverine.

"I don't owe you nothin'," Wolverine answered, never taking his eyes off his drink. Marie ddin't think he was too worried about Baldy. She guessed that if he could take him once, his motto was that he could take him twice.

"No man could take a beating like that and show no mark from it!" Baldy protested furiously. He leaned in and whispered something behind Wolverine's ears. It must have not been good because Wolverine turned and muttered something incoherent back to him. Wolverine went back to his drink, but it wasn't long until another wave of assault was brought upon him. Baldy flipped out a knife from his belt, pointed towards Wolverine.

"Hey, watch out!" Marie yelled out.

Everything went too fast for her to even comprehend. In a matter of a second, rows of blades protruded from Wolverine's knuckles, the last one slowly edging until it stopped at the jugular of the now-victim's neck. With the swing of his other arm, the rifle that had been held to the back of his neck by the bartender was cut in half by the knives.

He glanced back and forth from the two threats on either side of him and finally lowered his arms. He began to approach her direction, and Marie was sure that the entire bar could hear her heartbeat now. Was he going to hurt her for witnessing the revelation of his mutation?

But Wolverine just walked past her with one final glare.

The handful of people that were left in the malodorous place were all staring at the empty spot of the mutant. Marie took a deep breath, grabbed her duffel bag, and ran out the same direction as Wolverine.

Outside, she saw Wolverine stand next to the door of a small camper. He was still and staring at his knuckles. Once he went inside, she climbed under a large green tarp next to his motorcycle. She breathed hard and felt the feeling of immense stupidity wash over her. This man was clearly dangerous.

Instead, she ignored the voice of reason and rested her head against the duffel bag. Really, how bad could it possibly be?