The bar was a dive. It didn't even try not to be and for some reason Evie kind of admired that. It was the most upfront place she'd been to since she'd escaped the UK. Did that make her feel and safer? Fuck no.

The name bar would have been a generous name for this place. It was more like a shed that served drinks. It was clammy and crowded. But really that didn't matter. As long as she could blend in, that was all that that mattered.

Blending in had gotten easier overtime. At first her English accent identified her, which meant she couldn't stay in one place for long. But Evie was smart and she was able to pick up the Canadian accent and could get away with minimal speech.

She wore heavy walking boots, scruffy blue jeans, a black tank top with an Aztec cardigan and black leather jacket. The bar was fully crowded, making it difficult for her to get to the bar to order a drink. Everyone's attention was brought towards the centre – a fighting cage. Inside was the announcer, one limp body being dragged out and another – a fighter. His top was off, dog tags around his neck and covered in sweat. He leant against the cage, smoking a large cigar. The crowd was booing him.

The announcer worked them up. "Ladies and gentlemen, in all my years I have never seen anything like this. Are you going to let this man walk away with your money?"

The crowd roared at him. One tough-looking man looking man stood up, "I'll fight him!" He threw off his jacket and entered the cage. Clearly it wasn't his first fight.

As Evie sat at the bar, the announcer gave the new challenger some advice. She couldn't hear them above the crowd so she ordered herself a rum and coke.

The challenger barely allowed the bell to ring before he strode up to his opponent and punched him. He punches again and again before kicking him the nuts. The guy with sore bollocks fell to his knees and received a few more kicks for good measure. Somehow he recovered just as he was about to receive another punch. His knuckles collided and the challengers hand went limp. He howled in agony.

The crowd began to boo. With one more punch and a head butt, the ball kicker was out cold.

As the crowd booed the announcer calls the fight. "Ladies and gentlemen, the winner for tonight and still king of the cage... the Wolverine."

-

Soon the bar emptied, with just a few stragglers and drunks left. Evie sat in the same place, but had removed her jacket and cardigan, revealing her pale British skin. In the background the TV was playing. "...Once the welcoming point to thousands of immigrants, Ellis Island is opening its doors once again, this time for..."

The king of the cage, the Wolverine entered the bar and sat himself down. "I'll have a beer." As it was handed to him, he lit a cigar and glanced at something behind Evie.

"How much are you charging tonight honey?" The man leered at her. He moved in close, breathing into her face. His breathe stank of cigarettes and cheap beer.

"Even if I was, you couldn't afford me." Evie stated bluntly, turning on her stool so she didn't have to breathe in his stench.

The man couldn't take no for an answer, so he turned and faced her. "What's the matter, am I not good enough for you?"

"I doubt you would be." She turned again, this time facing the bar.

He leaned in close to her ear, placing a hand on her bare shoulder. "Y'know, we wouldn't' have to pay."

We? A shiver ran through her body. Impulsively she tensed and a static shock covered her skin, only briefly. The man felt it and flinched, shaking his hand.

Evie looked at the filthy mirror across the bar. Towards the bar, not far behind her she saw her pursuer walk to his four friends, who were staring at her intently.

They must be desperate. She thought to herself, knowing that she looked far from attractive. Her hair was a mess, she had no make-up on and her clothes were baggy so they didn't attract any attention to her curves. Plus, she had lost some weight, thus lost some of her curves. Life of a refugee was hard. Despite this men still desired her. She simply couldn't disappear. There was always one that pestered her.

But this one had friends and they were drunk enough to do something illegal but sober enough to pull it off.

"You lost your money; you keep this up, you'll lose somethin' else." a gravelly voice said from the other end of the bar.

She turned to see the two men from the cage fight. One neutral man was trying to keep the peace. It seemed to work and one of them began to walk away. But then he turned back and all Evie saw was a glint of metal.

Faster than it can be told, the Wolverine slammed his attacker up against the wall. Three claws slid from his knuckles and pointed at the other man's neck. The whole bar fell silent and stopped dead. Everyone waited for the other shoe to drop.

The cocking of a shut upped the stakes. A shotgun was pointed at the mutants head.

"Get out of my bar, freak!" the bartender ordered.

The mutant looked behind him briefly, then, in one quick motion, extended three claws from his other hand and sliced the shotgun in half like a water melon. Gun powder scattered across the floor.

He held them both there, knowing he was in control. But then he did something unexpected. He retracted his claws and quietly walked out.

Suspiciously, Evie turned around and looked at the five men behind her. They were deep in conversation, huddled together like a bunch of criminals. They kept glancing at her. Their intentions couldn't be clearer if they were licking their lips. This is probably the stupidest thing I've ever done.

Without a second thought she downed the last of her drink, grabbed her jacket and bag and dashed out of the bar.

It was still light outside, but dusk was reaching across the Canadian landscape. The cold hit her like a truck and gave her goose bumps.

He wasn't hard to find. His broad figure was making its way across the car park towards a run down trailer, Evie had to run to catch up to him.

"Hey, wait!" she called out to him, but he kept walking. "Wolverine."

He stopped and turned on his his heel with an unfriendly frown on his face. Determined she ran up to him.

"I need a ride out of here," she said bluntly.

"Excuse me?"

"I need to hitch a ride," she spelled out of him.

He stared at her. "Why are you in such a hurry to leave?"

"Because there are five men in there who are planning to rape me!" She spat out, frustrated.

Finally she let her panic set in. Her heart began racing. Here she was asking a man, who could potentially shred her to pieces, to save from being gang raped. Was she crazy? Probably. Was she scared? Definitely.

He seemed to be thinking. Oddly he sniffed the air. Something caught his eye and he looked over her shoulder, suppressing a growl. Evie turned and saw the five men loitering outside the bar, watching carefully. Her heart dropped.

"Alright," he said, grabbing her bag. "Where ya headin'?"

She threw on her cardigan and jacket and followed him to the trailer. "Anywhere." She sat herself in the passenger side.

Without another word he got in and drove off.

For sometime they drove in silence. Sat awkwardly in silence. "Thank you," Evie said at last, beginning to calm down.

He nodded. "You alright?"

"Yeah," Evie responded. "Can't help but wonder if I was over-reacting."

"You weren't." He grunted.

She nodded. After a moments thought she turned to him. "How about you?"

"What about me?"

"You survived five rounds of a cage fight." She pointed out, "And you were kicked in the balls. With steel capped boots."

An amused grin spread across his rugged face. He actually looked a little handsome. In a very rough, dirty kind of way. "Why are you thinking about my balls for?" He asked in his rich Canadian accent.

She couldn't help but smile. "Because most men would be sitting on a bag of frozen peas right now."

"I'm not most men." He said, a little more seriously.

She smirked. "Or maybe you're not a man at all."

He looked at her with a thick cigar in his mouth and a raised eyebrow. "You lookin' for proof darlin'?"

Evie looked at him sternly, like a parent silently telling a child to behave. She thought a comment like that would make her tense and nervous, but instead in make her a chuckle inside.

"To soon?" he asked.

She looked at him with a friendly smile. "Too soon."

He nodded again. "I'm Logan."

"Evie."