Sierra gasped when she was yanked to her feet. The man, now dressed, punched her in the gut, hard enough to make Sierra stagger and retch, nearly vomiting several times. She coughed and heaved for air, her throat now unconstricted, breaths coming as panicked and irregular sputters. She was heaved over the man's shoulder and carried back to the building that the attack had taken place next to.

Sierra was carried up into an apartment and thrown violently into a chair, where she leaned over, chest to her legs, gasping and sputtering and trying not to puke. Fuck, that punch hurt. The dude definitely hadn't been holding back, and in the back of her mind, Sierra feared for internal bruising. 

As she sat there, leaned over in an attempt to both recover and cover herself, she took stock of her injuries. Her neck was bleeding a bit from the bite, (nothing to worry about) the entire left side of her face was bruised and bleeding from being slammed into bricks, her head pounded, and her guts quivered. She also still had blood on her hands, but that wasn't a concern at the moment.

"Fuck dude, I didn't do anything!" She croaked, voice roughened both by the punch and the soreness in her throat. "I didn't hurt your buddy, fuck!" Tears began to flow, mostly from the pain in her face, but not completely. 

She was barely aware of her captor's interaction, and only noticed that the girl was the smoker from earlier, and that she was arguing in Sierra's favour. She sent the girl a look somewhere between pleading and grateful, and hung her head once again, clutching her gut. The alpha was coming, apparently. There was no way this would go over well.

[I]You fucked up, Sierra,[/I] she thought, [I]you fucked up good.[/I]