Pairing: Roman Reigns X Female OC
Summary: Cassidy Allen is trying desperately to get out of an abusive relationship and move on with her life. Her close friend urges her taking a job with WWE in order to get away from her boyfriend. Due to her friend's connections, she is hired on the spot, however Cassidy begins to regret the decision the instant she meets Roman Reigns. She is frightened of him, yet drawn to him all at the same time.

Roman finds himself constantly thinking of the beautiful redhead, especially when he is told of her past. He wanted her to begin with. But to learn her abusive ex is after her and trying to steal what he has claimed? Not. A. Chance. He will not accept failure in protecting her, nor earning her love. He bulldozes his way into the her heart, knowing there's no where else he wants to be.

Disclaimers: I own nothing or anyone associated or affiliated with WWE. I own only the original characters. This is just a fictional story that came from my imagination. This story contains various scenes that are for people 18 years of age and older ONLY.

Chapter Content & Trigger Warnings: Graphic domestic violence and abuse

Chapter 1

Twenty-eight-year-old Cassidy Allen turned her car onto her street, and drove slowly. She was in no hurry to get home. She honestly wished she could just turn around and...

"And what, Cassidy," she asked herself aloud. "You have nowhere to go. He's got you right where he wants you, and there's nothing you can do about it." Yet, she added to herself. A new feeling of hope filled her as she thought back on the conversation she'd had with her best friend, Skye Blake.

"I'm pregnant again," Cassidy sobbed softly, as Skye hugged her close. "Quinn doesn't know yet. But... He wants me to move in with him. I'm so scared he'll make me miscarry again!" She couldn't bare the pain of losing another baby. Especially when it was due to the violent abuse of her boyfriend, Quinn Ellison.

"You've got to break up with him, Cassidy," Skye told her, as they headed for her den. She pushed her golden blond hair back over her shoulder and moved closer to her friend. "I know that's scary advice. But... You can't let this happen. If you give in, and move in with him... You're going to end up dead. Both you and the baby."

The two women sat on the sofa in the huge den, discussing the current dilemma Cassidy faced.

"I know," Cassidy whispered, fighting tears as she looked at her best friend sitting on the sofa beside her. "I'm just... terrified. "He wont take it well—at all. And if he finds out about the baby? It'll be over. We'll be dead, for sure." She cracked her knuckles; a tick she'd developed since dating Quinn. "But, then at least I'd finally be free of him," she noted wryly. "There's always a silver lining."

"Stop it," Skye scolded her. "You're not going to die. Not because of a scumbag like Quinn. I'm going to help you."

"How," Cassidy asked right as a sob hiccuped from her throat. Angry at the show of weakness, she puffed out a sigh and massaged her temples. "What can you do?"

"I'm one of the head writers for WWE, and I'm close friends with Shane and Stephanie McMahon," Skye smiled as if those facts held all of life's solutions. "I have a little clout. I'm going to get you a job with the company. Something that will require you to travel all over the country—the world."

"Skye, I appreciate the thought, really," Cassidy said reaching over and squeezing her friend's hand. "But I don't think a new job with a built in "around the world" vacation is a permanent answer to my problem." She reached up and loosened her red hair from its ponytail to relieve some tension in her head.

Skye smiled and shook her head. "No, hon. A vacation isn't the purpose. Having a job with the WWE would keep you traveling. And that would make it more difficult for Quinn to get to you. You'd have numerous built-in bodyguards with all the wrestlers you'd be around all the time. It's perfect."

Cassidy's tears finally spilled over and fell down her cheeks. "That's so nice of you, Skye. But..."

"What is it, hon," Skye asked.

"Well, you can't guarantee I'll get hired. And also, I can't expect you to endorse me when we don't even know if I'd be capable of whatever job they gave me. I know absolutely nothing about wrestling. It could hurt your career with WWE. And what with your own dilemma with Josh..."

Josh was Skye's step-brother. A bum from the git go. He kept Skye chained to him with a huge guilt trip, and exploited her kindness ruthlessly.

"And what's more..." Cassidy continued, "I doubt the McMahons would want their huge corporation tainted by me and my problems."

"Actually, Shane and Stephanie love to try and make a difference in the world. They're not exactly portrayed that way, but they do try to help people who are in bad situations. And forget about Josh," Skye said, trying to downplay the situation with her step-brother. "He doesn't even factor into this."

The two women discussed over the next hour, how Cassidy would go home and pack. Then she'd use a credit card to get into a hotel with high security for the night. Skye planned on getting in touch with Shane and having him call Cassidy the next morning to schedule an interview.

"Call me when you get home," Skye had requested, hugging Cassidy before she left. "Let me know you are okay."

Now, as Cassidy neared her home, she gasped at finding Quinn's huge, silver Dodge RAM 1500 parked in the street in front of her house. She pulled her Chevy Tahoe into her circular driveway and killed the engine, trying to calm her racing heart.

"What's he doing here," she wondered aloud. "Why's he here? It's like he knows where I was—what I was doing."

Taking a deep soothing breath, she climbed out of the SUV, braving the chilly November air once again and vowed to protect her baby the best she could. She grabbed her purse, shut the car door, and headed for the house. Once she stepped inside, she discovered the home to be quiet. Almost as if no one was there.

Maybe he's taking a nap, she thought hopefully.

Quinn's long, chaotic shifts as an EMT did sometimes take its toll on him. Cassidy had wondered in the beginning if his job wasn't what caused him to fly off the handle and beat her. It didn't take her very long to figure out that he was just an extremely evil man.

She hung her coat and purse on the foyer's coat rack, then headed for the kitchen, careful to make sure her sneakers didn't squeak against the parquet floors. If Quinn was sleeping, she did not want to wake him up and get him angry.

She opened the fridge door and pulled the carton of orange juice out, intending to get some extra vitamins and nutrients for the baby till she could get to her OB-GYN and begin taking pre-natal vitamins.

The sound system she had wired through her entire home crackled slightly. She froze—barely managing to swallow her sip of juice without choking. She immediately knew what would come next.

Marilyn Manson's scratchy, demonic voice blasted from the speakers:

Sweet dreams are made of this
Who am I to disagree?
Travel the world and the seven seas
Everybody's looking for something

Letting her drinking glass slip from her hand, it shattered in the floor as the song continued. Orange juice splattered everywhere, bathing the floor in orange.

The sharp sound of breaking glass was enough to snap her out of her trance and she bolted, running for the living room. She had to get away from that terrifying song! She just had to!

Some of them want to use you
Some of them want to get used by you
Some of them want to abuse you
Some of them want to be abused

"No," she sobbed softly, as she hurried past the large leather sofa.

Cassidy knew then, if she didn't get away, her baby would never survive. The playing of the grotesque song proved that. Quinn only played it when she'd "misbehaved" and needed punishment.

And she'd heard it so many times.

He knew it frightened her. She'd commented on it early on in their relationship when she'd found him listening to it on his Ipod.

"Marilyn Manson scares the crap out of me," she'd said lightheartedly and playfully slugging him on the shoulder. "How can you stand to listen to him?"

Looking back, she could see him making a mental note.

I wanna use you and abuse you
I wanna know what's inside you

Cassidy all but dove into the foyer to grab her coat and purse, but halted when she saw Quinn standing before the front door. His muscled arms were crossed over his chest, and a dangerous gleam shone in his eyes. He pushed a button on a remote, and Marylin Manson quietened down so they could hear each other speak.

Cassidy panted, and backed up a step, praying at the same time that her legs would hold her up. She was going to need them. "Quinn, please."

"Where were you?"

"I-I..." She fought to stop the trembling of her chin. "Skye invited me out to lunch. Then we had desert at her house."

Quinn clicked his tongue at her as he stepped closer. "Mistake number one. You don't go anywhere without asking me." His index finger jabbed himself in the chest for emphasis while his other hand moved to his pants pocket and slid inside. "Do you have anything else to share with me?"

Breathless, she shook her head. "No. It was just lunch and a visit with my best friend, Quinn. That's all. I promise."

"Are you sure?"

The soft question accompanied a sadistic smile that was actually not a smile at all. More like a silent snarl.

She gripped the edge of the foyer table to stay upright. "I-I'm sure," she stammered, as a tear fell down her cheek.

Her phone rang within her purse, and she moved over to the coat rack to answer it.

"Leave it." He stopped her with an icy glare. "We're having a discussion right now."

It's over, she thought. He knows something. And he's letting me dig my own grave.

"So, back to the topic of our discussion...I suppose this is nothing?"

Quinn pulled a white pregnancy test from the pocket of his slacks and held it out to her.

Her breath whooshed out as she gazed at the test strip in his hand. Oh, God... He found out. "I... I was waiting for the right time to tell you." She lied, taking a tentative step toward him and hoping to talk him down for once. "I wanted to make it special for you."

"And showing me the test wouldn't be special," he questioned. "Why throw it in the trash can?"

"I wanted to get an official blood test done. And... And show you the results of that test. Home tests aren't always accurate and I didn't want to get your hopes up-"

The slap came fast, and she had no time to ready herself for it.

The force of the blow sent her staggering back into the table behind her. Fire shot up her back and she collapsed to the floor. Instantly, she hugged herself into a ball, trying to protect her unborn baby the only way she knew how. "Quinn..."

"You filthy, lying WHORE," he shouted as he gave her a kick in the head. Hard enough to debilitate her but not enough to render her unconscious. Her consciousness was always important in his "punishments". "You won't learn anything if you're out cold," he'd told her a long time ago.

She cried out at the sudden pain in her head and tried to crawl away. But in the next instant, a hand gripped her fiery hair and lifted her to a sitting position.

"You went and had an abortion," he accused. "Didn't you?"

Cassidy shook her head vehemently despite the pain reverberating through her skull. "NO! I'd never! Not even when you're..." She trailed off and looked horrified at what she'd almost blurted out.

A cold lambency radiated in Quinn's green eyes and sent a shiver of terror down her spine. "Not even when I'm what? The father?" He gave her no time to reply before his palm slapped her in the exact same place from moments before. "You did get an abortion. I know it."

"No," Cassidy croaked out, shaking her head again. "I swear! I didn't!"

"LIAR!"

The roar burst from his mouth and he slapped her again. "Get upstairs. The bathtub. You're a filthy, lying little slut. And you need a bath."

"God, no. Please, Quinn..." She shook her head in disbelief, briefly tasting blood on her lips. Not water, she thought. Please, no water torture. She berated herself for the millionth time for divulging all her fears to him throughout their relationship. Because she'd trusted him, he knew her ultimate fear was drowning. And he used that fear ruthlessly. One of his favorite punishments for her was a "bath".

He whipped his belt out of his slacks and popped it at her. "Up. Stairs."

"Quinn, please! Don't make me! I didn't do anything! I'm still pregnant! Please, don't hurt the baby!"

The next time he popped the thick leather belt, it was against her. It slashed over her shoulder and down to her mid back. The pain didn't register for a second, but then fire seemed to bloom all over her torso. She screamed in agony, and then with a sob, turned onto her stomach and crawled for the stairs as Marilyn Manson blared through the speakers again.

"GO!"

Another slash of the belt landed on her back and she collapsed to the floor, crying as the scorch of the belt lit her tender skin ablaze. And still, the belt came down again and again, mercilessly biting into her flesh.

Finally, the pain seemed to stop. She felt nothing—just fatigue and nausea. She couldn't even move. Something warm and sticky glued her shirt to her back, and suddenly she felt cold—unbearably cold. Her teeth chattered and her slender frame shook.

Then a strong hand snatched one of hers and she felt herself being dragged for a distance. She was tugged upward and hard wood began bumping into her and digging into her bloodied back. She moaned softly at the discomfort, barely able to keep her eyes open. It finally occurred to her that she was being drug up the stairs of her home.

Finally she was slid across the slick tiling of her bathroom, lifted up and dumped carelessly into her huge, filled bathtub. The cold water gave her another vicious round of shivers. She was suddenly a little more alert, and fought the urge to gasp for air. Instead, she tried to hold her breath and struggled to rise above the surface. Quinn's hands held her under the water however, and in her panic she dug her nails into his skin, desperate for him to release her. He shifted his hands to her throat and squeezed.

"You'll breathe when I say you can breathe."

His voice was distorted under the water's surface, but she was able to make out his words.

"That's the whole point of these punishments, Cassidy. You have to learn that I'm in control. I provide your needs. You can't-"

Suddenly, she heard a female's scream interrupt his speech.

"Get off of her you-"

There was a splash next to her and then a thrashing of arms.

"YOU SON OF A BITCH!"

A southern male voice roared in anger and then Quinn's hands left her, and there was a commotion. Weakly, Cassidy tugged herself up over the edge of the tub and sucked in a mouthful of air. Starbursts exploded behind her eyes, and her vision dimmed to almost nothing. Her already weak grip on the tub's edge was loosening further.

"Oh, God... Cassidy!"

She heard Skye's frantic voice nearly screaming over the loud music, but couldn't muster the strength to answer her. Gentle hands wrapped around her and tugged her out of the tub and settled her against the floor. "Cassidy," Skye said loudly, trying to rouse her friend. "Come on, sweetie. Talk to me. AJ, get that remote from him. Shut that garbage off."

Cassidy could hear punches being dished out and worried that Quinn was now attacking Skye. The horrid music shut off however, and she could hear much clearer.

"How do you like it, ya piece o' shit?"

The male southerner's drawl caused Cassidy to jolt. There was a harsh thud—a body hitting the floor.

"You like beatin' defenseless women, asshole? How do you like gettin' a beatin'?"

A whimper passed Cassidy's lips. "Please, don't let him... hurt... baby..." She tried to voice the words, but it just came out a strangled moan.

"AJ," Skye scolded softly. "You're scaring her even more. Tone it down. You knocked him out cold. The cops will take it from here when they arrive. We need to get her to the hospital."

"How is she," the man asked. He'd moved closer to her. His southern accent sounded less menacing now. Warmer. "How are you? Did he hurt you?"

"I'm fine. Just soaked is all. She's not good," Skye murmured. "I think she's in shock."

"Yeah," the man agreed softly. "I used to be an EMT. Her pupils are so blown out, I can't make out her eye color. She's definitely in shock. We need to get her out of those wet clothes or she'll freeze. Can you go get her a blanket? And some dry clothes for yourself. You'll catch your death outside."

Cassidy felt calloused hands begin gently tugging at her wet jeans and winced. A pained moan passed her lips.

"I know, sugar," the man murmured. "I know it hurts. And I'm so sorry."

Her jeans were pulled completely from her body and then she was turned onto her side as he began pulling her soaked t-shirt over her head.

"Oh, my God."

Skye had returned. And she sounded horrified.

"AJ... Her back..."

"I know, baby. He whipped her," AJ mumbled. "A lot. I shouldda killed the bastard."

"Come on. Help me wrap her in the blanket. We don't have time to wait on the cops and then for them to dispatch an ambulance."

A couple minutes later, Cassidy felt herself wrapped up snugly in a soft warm blanket, and then lifted into strong arms. Her head fell against a sturdy shoulder as she was carried. "My... baby..." Her eyes grew heavy as she barely managed to utter the words.

"The baby will be fine, honey," Skye said. "We're getting you to the hospital."

"Can you drive," the southern voice drawled.

"Of course. Just get her in the back and try to keep her comfortable."

A car door opened and then Cassidy felt herself being shifted and settled into a lap. "'m sleepy..." she mumbled as she gave into the temptation to let herself completely relax in AJ's arms. "So cold..."

Her eyes closed fully, and she heard Ajs voice say softly, "Rest, honey. Were getting you some help. Skye, can you crank up the heaters?"

They were still speaking when she drifted into pitch darkness.


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