Summary: Abused daily by James, Bella is plotting her escape, gradually planning out the details. But time is running out. Until fate intervened. "He had the most gorgeous blue eyes..." Rated M for graphics. AH, OOC.

Warning: Rated M for; graphics, sexual acts, rape, abuse, and swearing. AH, and OOC.


Of Destiny and Waitressing
Prologue: Strength and Courage

Bella

My hand covered my eyes. I groaned, angry with myself for being such an idiot. "Bella? Are you alright?"

"Fine, Carmen. Just fine. I'm leaving for the day. See you tomorrow." She nodded, giving me a smile before carrying on. I sighed and looked over at the clock, cursing my inability to keep up with time. It was 7 o'clock. 7 o'clock, on a Wednesday night. But no, that wasn't the problem. The problem was that I was supposed to be home at 6:50, five minutes after my shift ended. Or, was supposed to end. Tonight I was covering for Angela; she was going to the gynecologist, and I had promised I would take her shift for her. Her shift that had just ended.

Crap. James was going to kill me. And no, not figuratively. Literally. He may actually kill me. Last night had been bad enough as it was. I made a mistake. A stupid, stupid mistake. I had forgotten his rule. One of his most important rules. Do not talk back to me. I had gotten kicked in the back, leaving a nice size eleven shoe imprint on my skin. My right cheek was bruised from all the slapping, and there was a healing gash in my left leg where he had thrown me into the wall.

Don't get me wrong. I know his shit wasn't my fault. I'm not that big of an idiot. Most people, had they been in this situation, would have left by now. But not me. I couldn't. James was connected to a lot of important people and places, which wasn't all that surprising; police departments, news reporters, doctors, surgeons, big CEO's of companies I'd never even heard of. He had high friends in a lot of high places, and my leaving would stir up a nation-wide search. A search that would end in bad consequences.

Add to that the fact that James, with his high powered friends, could vouch for full custody of our children, and it was enough to make me just take it. I didn't cry. I didn't complain. I just took it. Nothing was more important to me than my children.

We had two daughters. Charlotte and Karoline, or Kara, as she better liked to be called. Charlie was the only nickname I had been able to think of when facing the name Charlotte; but considering that there was already a Charlie in my life, I figured it would be a good sign to name her after him – in a sense, at least.

Karoline? The inspiration behind her name came from none other than an aunt of mine who had died very young. My mom had never really gotten over the loss of her sister, and I thought naming my own daughter after her was a sort of remembrance.

Kara was too much like me. In everything; her personality, her thoughts, even her looks. James may have been her biological father, but there didn't seem to be a drop of his influence in her. She was only eight years old, and damn smart for her age.

Charlie, on the other hand, was the better version of her father's genes. She was a spunky six year old, with dark blond hair and fierce blue eyes. She had her me moments, yeah. But her more dominant personality won out every time, to be free-spirited and loud and energetic. She was James favorite; much to my horror, he paid more attention to her than Karoline sometimes.

I didn't know what happened when I wasn't home. I tried to take them with me everywhere. Even to work, if they had no school. I didn't want them alone with James. I knew the girls didn't have to spend too long with him, thank god. I left them in the care of a daycare center after school, and they didn't go home until after I picked them up. Tonight was another late night.

"I'm done for the day, Emmett. Goodnight," I said quietly, tossing my apron into my locker in the back. Emmett grinned and waved good-bye with a greasy black spatula. I grabbed my keys out my pocket, unlocked the door to my truck, and climbed in, slamming it carefully behind me. The engine revved to life and I pulled out of the parking lot, tapping the directions to the daycare into my little GPS. My fingers nervously drummed on the steering wheel as I made a right turn. I was waiting. Waiting for the phone call I knew was going to come.

Why you so obsessed with me, is all I wanna know, lying that ya sexin' me, when everybody knows...

I groaned. There it was. The dreaded call I had been waiting for. I saw James name come up on the little LCD screen, and I swallowed before opening the phone and placing it to my ear. "Hello?"

"Where are you." I gulped. It wasn't a question. It was more of a statement. A I'm-not-going-to-like-the-answer-either-way sort of statement.

"I'm on my way to get the girls. Then I'll be home with dinner." He liked when I cooked, but me cooking started most of the bruises I got. He wouldn't like how something tasted, or how something looked, and he'd want me to throw it out and make something else. And no matter how many times he demanded I do it, I just couldn't. It was a waste of food. Besides, all he wanted was greasy burgers and fast food like McDonalds all the time. He could have as much as he wanted, but the girls needed healthy, nutritious meals. If he wanted to suffer a heart attack, that was fine by me.

"We have plenty of food in fridge. Why would you stop for fast food? Unless...you're with someone, aren't you." I sighed. James was paranoid. He didn't believe he started problems. He thought my blatant need to "defy" everything he said needed to be remedied. I turned left, stomping on the brake at the quickly-turned red light. Damn trick light. "There aren't enough left-overs for tonight. Besides, a little fast food once in a while is perfectly healthy." That and I didn't want him throwing a pot of boiling water on anyone.

"You didn't answer my question, Isabella." Another sigh escaped my lips; I turned left again, relief flowing through me as I spied the daycare center. "No, James, I'm not with anyone. I'm alone in the car. And I'm pulling up to the center now."

"Hurry up and get the girls. We'll talk about this further when you get home." There was a soft click, and then the line was disconnected. I pinched the bridge of my nose. He had issues. Seriously fucked up, paranoid, mental issues. I turned off the engine and stepped out of the car. The cool autumn air had me pulling my jacket out of the passenger seat; the last thing I needed was a cold. I didn't want to be stuck at home with him either.

I worked. James got money from somewhere or someone, I had learned better than to question it by now. He spent it all on things for him, with the rare gift for the girls thrown in there. As a waitress, I didn't make the best pay, but it got food on the table and kept the girls happy. And that was all that was necessary.

A tiny figure stepped into the doorway, her hands on her hips, brow cocked. I groaned. Alice. She was my best friend, and I loved her like a sister. But sometimes she was a little too intuitive.

"Isabella Marie Swan." That was all it took. I could tell she was angry about something, possibly about to start the same argument she always did when I showed up late. "Mary Alice Brandon," I said back. "See? I can play the name game too." She scrunched up her little nose and glared at me with her fierce hazel eyes. I winced under her gaze. Alice could see through your soul, at times. It was scary.

She looked back into the house before waving a hand lazily. "Hurry up and get in here." I breathed a sigh. Maybe she wouldn't start this again. God knows how many times we had argued about my unhealthy relationship with James. "Girls! Your mom is here!" I covered my ears. Alice may have been tiny, but she had a set of lungs on her. She left me alone, walking through a swinging door, to the kitchen. I heard the scampering of feet, and then saw a blur of yellow before something crashed into me. "Mama!"

I looked down and smiled. Charlie stared up at me, grinning from ear to ear as she held out a piece of black construction paper with white crayon scribbled all over it. "I made this for you, Mama! See? It's a goose!" she cried happily. I gave her a wide smile and hugged her. "It's beautiful, sweetheart. I love it."

She smiled and moved, chasing after Alice's Beagle puppy, Lucky. Kara walked up to me hesitantly, trying to secretly inspect me. I smiled grimly. Like I said, she was a smart girl. She knew by now that her father could do some real damage. She blamed herself for it all, because she was my first-born, but I wished she didn't, and could only hope I didn't have to spend any more time convincing her of this fact. Why she blamed herself only she knew. She refused to tell me.

I opened my arms, a look of fake hurt on my face. "What, do I not deserve hugs anymore?" She smiled. I grinned triumphantly. She wrapped her arms around me, squeezing my waist tightly. I could see Charlie staring at us, her head cocked in curiosity as she pulled her favorite stuffed tiger down from the low bookshelf.

Alice handed me a bag of Joe's Burgers, and I wrinkled my nose at the smell of grease and fried food. I didn't like picking this stuff up unless it was necessary. And then there were those great times when Alice grabbed a bag for me. "Why don't you two go play with Lucky in the backyard one last time? Michael is out there working with his dad." I knew what she was doing. I wanted to call them back, and tell them we needed to leave, but they were already rushing out the door, with Lucky on their trail.

"Bella, please tell me you're not actually going home to that asshole." I sighed, plopping myself into a chair and getting comfortable. This was going to be a long conversation.

"Alice, you know as well as I do, I can only leave when the time is right. When he's at his weakest." I talked like this was some kind of war strategy. In my mind, I guess it was.

"And what if that time never comes? What if by the time you finally get ready to leave, it's too late. And what about Kara and Charlie? If you die, guess who gets custody." All good points.

"Ali, please. We have this conversation every time."

Her eyes darkened. "And we damn well should! Until you get it through your head that waiting is not an option, we are going to continue having this conversation. Please, Bella. For once, take a risk. Just don't let him do this to you. Fight back. Leave."

"I can't, Al. Not yet. But I will. Soon. I promise." It was the same promise I always made. It was the same words we left this debate at. For some reason, saying this made Alice let it go for a little while. She sighed. "Fine. I don't really have too much of a choice, do I."

"Thanks, Ali." I hugged her, and she grumbled a little about stubborn brunette's before wrapping her tiny arms around me.

"I need to get home. James won't be very happy." She started to speak. "Alice, don't," I quickly interjected. She closed her mouth and frowned, then pulled out her cell phone. She pressed something before holding it up to her ear. "Hey babe. Can you send the girls inside please?" She cast a glance at me, her eyes full of aggravation. "Thanks. See you when you come in."

She ended the call and turned to me, frowning again. I heard a door slam and saw my two girls, slightly out of breath and sweating. I smiled. "Thanks again, Alice. See you tomorrow."

"I better, Bella." It was the only warning she ever gave me. I knew she would go into full on panic mode. I brought the girls in in the morning. If I wasn't to be seen, I knew she would call me, then the hospital, police, and anyone else she could think of. It wasn't a warm feeling thinking about the possible reasons behind my disappearance either.

Charlie ran outside, with Kara following. I gave Alice one last, slightly timid smile and turned, bag in hand, making my way to the car. After fumbling with the keys a little, I finally unlocked the door. Karoline helped Charlie up and into the seat, telling her to scoot over before slamming the car door behind her. I looked at the two of them in the rear-view mirror. My little angels. They were the lights of my life, and the only thing I valued from this relationship with James.

"Seat-belts on?" I asked. "Yep!" Charlie screamed out, clutching her tiger to her. I chuckled and pulled out of the parking lot. My phone rang once again, and I checked the little LSD screen. James. Shit. I opened it, accepting his call, and braced myself.

"Where the fuck are you. I told you to get the girls and get your ass home, not play dress-up and chit-chat with your little bitch girlfriend!" I winced. He was angry. Really fucking angry. He'd never liked Alice, and Alice had never liked him. "I have the girls now. We're on our way home." I held up the phone, away from my ear and closer to the backseat. "Say hi to Daddy, girls!"

"Hi Daddy!" Charlie said enthusiastically. I smiled in spite of who she was talking to. She had no clue what happened between me and James, or why her mother always had some kind of bruise or cut after she was with him. She was oblivious, and I desperately wanted to leave it that way. "Hi Dad," Kara said flatly. She hated James. Hated him with a fierce passion. Knowing what he did to me, she always tried to find an excuse to get me away from him. She asked for help with her homework, or asked for someone to show her something. She was a smart girl. A loving girl. Like her sister.

I would never be able to demonstrate how grateful I was to have her and Charlie.

I pressed the phone up to my ear real quick to hear him chuckle. Relief flowed through me. He was distracted. For now, granted, but at least he was distracted. "Tell them I say hi back."

"Your dad says hi," I said, smiling at them reassuringly in the mirror. Charlie was paying me no attention, her five year old mind more interested in making her orange and black friend stick to the window; Kara caught my eyes, and I saw the anger flash in them before they became wide with fear. I could see our house. We were close to home.

Charlie was now paying attention to the things outside, bouncing in her seat when she saw the familiar white and green wood. "We're home! We're home!" She was practically cheering, and I couldn't help but 'aww' mentally at the cuteness.

"Hurry up." It was all I heard before the soft click. I looked down at the phone, sighing in frustration once again. Dick.

I parked in the spot directly in front of the house, turning the key as I came to a stop. The door unlocked and Kara opened her door at the same time I did, stepping out and slamming it angrily as she stomped up the driveway to the garage. Charlie opened her own and jumped out of the seat, giggling when she landed on her feet.

I grabbed the bag out the passenger seat before closing both doors, watching as she ran up the driveway. I messed with the keys before finally pressing on the lock button, making the lights flash. A small chirp sounded, and I pocketed them before beginning my walk to my doom. I counted out the steps in my mind as I saw James angry blue-grey eyes peering at me from the window.

One. I knew I was in for it tonight. James wouldn't be very happy with me. He already looked pissed about something as it was. And whatever anger he was holding in, it was all coming out when he got me alone. And either way, it was coming out physically. I shivered as I thought of the other ways he liked to get physical with me. That's just nasty.

Two…three…four…five…

I continued counting, not noticing my hand on the doorknob until it was yanked from me, and standing in the doorway was James himself.

His blond hair was a mess, his attempt at the bed-head look gone awry. There were dark circles under his eyes, and he was wearing a pair of blue shorts and a dirty white undershirt. He'd had a bad day. I could tell. And I knew what that meant for me.

His hand gripped my arm and squeezed. I winced from the pain, knowing a new bruise was already blossoming. "James," I whimpered. He released me, looking around for any witnesses. He favored his reputation as the golden boy, rather than his real image. The abusive douche-bag.

"Get in the fucking house," he mumbled, giving me a hard glare. I scurried away, like a coward, through the door and into the kitchen. Setting the bag down on the counter, I turned around, coming face-to-face with an aforementioned douche-bag. My arms automatically rose to defend myself, and I felt him grab my wrists and pull me closer. "You little bitch," he seethed. He shook me slightly, and I felt my teeth rattle. "I told you to get your fucking ass home!" I glanced behind him, wondering if the girls were nearby. They didn't need to see this.

"You never fucking learn." He slid off his belt as he talked, giving me a stare. "Do you, Bella? Do you ever learn?" He wrapped part of the belt around his palm, leaving enough to hit me with. "Do you?"

"I-"

He snapped the belt in my direction, aiming for my leg. Even through the fabric of denim, I could feel it. I stifled a scream as it made contact, muffling my squeak in my jacket sleeve. "Do you? You little bitch." He snapped it again, this time making contact with my stomach. My t-shirt was thin, leaving only a piece of cloth between the leather and my skin. It felt like my flesh was on fire. I released a gasp, clutching my arms protectively in front of my stomach as I slid to the cool tile floor. "I asked you a fucking question, Swan!" I raised his voice somewhat, still too quiet for the girls to hear him.

"I- I- I'm s- sorry." I cowered on the floor, breathing raggedly as he replaced his belt. He crouched to the floor, coming closer to me, too close. "You learned this time, didn't you? My sweet Bella."

He stroked a hand down my cheek, the tears wetting his hand. I wanted to bite him. I wanted to screech and kick and scream and fight. But I couldn't. Because if I did, there may be a chance that I wouldn't wake up from the beating he would give me. "Don't do that again, my sweet. I would hate to have to do worst." My eyes widened. Worst? God, no. I started shaking. He got up and, satisfied for the night, reached into the bag and pulled out two burgers and a container of fries.

"After you get the girls to bed, get into the room. I'm feeling in the mood tonight." It was said so off-handedly, so nonchalantly, it was like I had asked about the weather. I could only nod; my voice was caught in my throat. His frown, and the violent flash in his eyes, made me speak despite my problems. "Yes, James." My voice was raspy. He smiled approvingly. "Good. You're learning," he said. He turned and walked up the stairs, humming along the way.

I placed my hands in front of my face and could feel the streams down my cheeks. My life. My stupid, fucked up life. I had two daughters. Two little girls who needed their mother, two girls who didn't need to be raised around a man like him.

And I was a goddamn failure for continuing to put up with it all.

I placed their burgers on the table. "Girls?" I called softly. I heard pounding on the steps. Charlie poked her head around the wall, staring at me worriedly. "Mama? Are you okay?" I brought a hand to my face, feeling my still wet cheeks, and hurriedly wiped them on my jacket sleeves. "I'm fine, baby. Mama accidentely hit her knee on the wall."

"Oh." That was that. She came down and wrapped her little self around my leg, squeezing me tight. I smiled, my hands reaching down to lift her up. "Wow. Someone's getting big. Hard to believe you're only six," I teased. She smiled. "I'll be even soon. Right Mama? I'll be seven on October 27. And then I'll get presents and balloons and a big ice cream cake. Right Mama? Right?"

I nodded. "That's right, Charlie. And a bouncy house, remember?" She clapped excitedly. "Oh yeah! A bouncy house! And it's gonna be purple and red, cause I like purple and red, Mama, and-"

She rambled on and on about balloons and cake and presents and the bouncy house. In a month and three weeks, my baby would be turning seven years old. Not too soon after that, Kara would be turning nine this year on November 29. I had convinced James to allow her to have a birthday party at Chuckie Cheese's, which he had graciously conceded with the agreement that he didn't have to go.

I smiled as she continued explaining to me how she wanted purple balloons, and not pink, cause pink was for the Easter Bunny. Kara walked into the kitchen, grabbing the plate for her and her sister. "Come on Charlie," she said affectionately. "Let's go eat." She led the way, walking into the dining room and setting down the plates before picking up the TV remote. She switched to one of Charlie's favorite shows. Veggie Tales, I think it was called.

We had a regular night – well, as regular a night as possible with James around. We watched the little talking celery sticks and pieces of broccoli tell the story of David and Goliath; I checked Charlie and Kara's homework, which they both correctly did. Kara showered while I played Princess and Dragon with Charlie, and when it was Charlie's turn she laughed and played, spraying me with water a couple of times. I wrapped her in a big fluffy bath towel, which absolutely HAD to be purple. After getting my angels tucked into bed, Charlie demanded a story.

"Please, Mama?" she implored, widening her eyes and pouting slightly; something I just knew she had gotten from Alice. I groaned in defeat and pulled out a book from the bookshelf. For some reason, Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief was a part of someone's book collection. Most likely Kara. She grinned and nudged me, giving me a silent starter to read the book. I cleared my throat and started reading, deciding to stop once I hit the break in scenes.

The both of them were out like a light by the time I had come to the first break. I smiled, and placed an old ID card in the book, marking our stop. I sighed. The day was coming to a close. My heartbeat quickened as I remembered what James had commanded me to do. And my nightmare is just beginning.

I slipped into the bedroom quietly, shutting the door behind me as light as I could. "Something wrong, Isabella?" I jumped at the sound of his voice. My hand pressed on the skin above me heart as I turned to face him. "No, nothing at all," I mumbled. The sound of his feet, shuffling closer to me, was enough to almost cause a panic attack. I pressed myself against the door.

A hand grabbed my jaw and, not very gently, pulled my head up. There were flames dancing in his eyes, but not the kind that I usually saw. These were flames of passion, of want. He wanted me. It made me sick.

His hands roughly pawed at my clothing, tugging my jeans down my hips as I made loud mental protests in my head. He pulled my shirt off of me, before stopping to stare at me with a sick, lustful grin. "Mine, Isabella. You're all mine." He seemed to be talking to himself. He continued removing my clothes, quickly taking off the bra. "Stand up," he ordered.

I got to my feet, scared, shaking and vulnerable. I knew to keep the noises to a minimum. My daughters didn't need to hear this. They didn't need to hear James hitting me, using me as his own personal sex doll.

"Panties," he growled. I looked down. My white, bunged up underwear still covered me. I could see him growing impatient. Doing what he says let's you live to see another day. I sighed inwardly. That little voice in my head was right. For now. For now I would do as he wanted.

I removed the underwear, tossing them to the side. I was fully naked, and could feel my long hair on my back. "So perfect," he hissed. "And all mine." His own pants were gone. I could see the bulge from under his blue boxers. In one swift motion, they were around his ankles. He was at my side in an instant, kissing at my neck, his hands squeezing my breasts. I stared down at him, chewing my lip nervously as he glared at me with lustful eyes.

"Tell me you want me, Isabella. Tell me how bad you want me to fuck you," he growled. His hand came up to wrap around my neck and he began to apply pressure slowly. "I- I want you." It was all I could say. I saw his eyes flash dangerously, and his other hand clenched into a fist.

"On all fours. Now." I tried to do what he wanted, but he didn't let me go. My own hands tried to pry his off of me. "James...you're hurting me..." He squeezed tighter. My breathing was getting ragged. He laughed humorlessly, pushing me on the bed. "I said on all fours, damn it!" His hand came down on my ass, and I felt the sting in my left cheek. I held back a yelp and complied.

Without warning, he slammed into me. I bent my head forward as the pain exploded throughout my body. He was pounding into me, making my arch my back as another wave of stinging aches shoot through me. I could feel myself weakening, until I collapsed, curling into the fetal position as the tears ran down my cheeks. He scoffed.

"Can't even finish me off. Some kind of help you are." He moved away from me, and I opened an eye when I heard the bathroom door close. I was sore all over. I could feel the bruise he had given me on my hip already forming.

I didn't want to move. I wanted to just lay here and wish the problem away. I wish I had never known James. I wish he wasn't an abusive asshole.

I wish I was strong enough to stand up for myself. Brave enough to shout at him when he shouted at me. But I wasn't. And it was costing me everyday.


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