Emilie never did take kindly to people touching her things, especially the things she'd stolen for herself. That particular pair of brass knuckles had come from a girl who'd put up quite the fight for the wash she was carrying. Emilie still had the scar just below her ribs, where the knife had been just an inch or two shy of any vital organs.
She had no plans on giving up those brass knuckles, even if the pain that shot through her fingers was almost intense enough to make her loosen said fingers. Instead, Emilie snarled and drew her foot upward then back in a vicious kick to Sarge's shin. If it did as she liked, it would've offered just enough distraction for her to yank her hand away and duck just out of reach.
It'd been a while since she found herself in a good fight, and the adrenaline was already soaring.