Summary: This is a Jasper/Bella/Peter pairing. No vamps, but not human. Running for her life, Bella tries to escape her past but what happens when her past won't stay behind her?

I am currently working on editing each chapter.


Chapter 1

My bare feet slapped against the rough alleyway. I could feel glass and rocks cut the bottom of my feet. My legs burned with the strain of being used. My breaths came in heavy pants, burning with every inhale.

With a pounding heart, I dared to look behind me and saw the man slow to a walk. I knew he had me cornered, as it was my fault I ran into the dark alley hoping to find safety as no one was out and about at this time of night.

The man's shadow cast long from the street light. Glad I couldn't see the glint that was sure to be on his lusty face, I whipped back around and nearly ran smack into a solid wall. The wall was a man, about 6 inches taller than myself. He caught me around my middle, causing me to skid in a circle so I didn't hurt myself. He quickly pulled me backwards with a silencing hand over my mouth, my scream lost in my throat.

My heart felt like it would leap out of my chest as I was walked backwards, my back to his chest, into an air conditioned room. The one chasing me whistled a tune, non-the-wiser about what was going on.

Were the two men both from the same compound? Was my fighting for nothing?

I began to panic as a door shut quietly in front of me and a low light somewhere turned on. I closed my eyes hoping my end would be painless.

I felt the man lead me away from the door before lightly shoving me forward, as he turned us around.

"If I take my hand off, no screaming. Understood?" he asked roughly in a low whisper, a slight accent to his voice.

I nodded the best I could. My breaths still came in heavy pants. His hand moved slowly, waiting for me to scream. All I did, what my body would allow me to do, was fall gracefully to my knees as his arm around my waist slowly loosened his hold on me. Once I was on my knees on the cold dirty white tiles, I gasp, trying to catch my breath.

I'm sure I looked a site to see. An underweight girl, dirty from head to toe, with barely any clothing on gasping for air. My entire body hurt, and not just from the few minutes I had ran.

"Deep breaths in," the man spoke from beside me, causing me to jump as I had forgotten about him in my panic. "Breathe in. . . . breath out."

It continued for a few minutes, maybe hours, before I was able to catch my breath. Never once did the man touch me again. My body felt weak, an effect from the panic attack, but I stayed as still as possible in my kneeling position.

A bottle of water was sat before my down cast eyes along with a simple command of 'drink'.

The water was cold and felt nice against my parched throat. When had I last had anything to drink? Let alone eat? I only drank half of the bottle before setting it back gently as not to spill it. While doing so, I notice my body shaking.

"Let's get you cleaned up, suga'," mumbled the man as he helped me to stand. Good thing he was there supporting me weight, or I'd have fallen back down. I was used to my body being weak, but not this week. There had been a few instances where I was too weak to walk, though.

I shuffled along as he guided me towards the small bathroom where the bathtub was already filled with steamy water. The man gently took off the flimsy gray gown I had on. He hissed through his teeth as he saw all the bruises, old and new, that I was covered in. I was used to them, but always avoided looking at myself at all times if possible.

Instead of helping me into the water, he picked me up and sat me down gently. The water was perfect and soothing to my sore body. It wasn't too warm to cause me to have much of a reaction to my cold skin.

"When was the last the time you had a bath, girl?" he asked calmly. I had yet to look at him. All my years of training wouldn't allow me to. Always keep your head down unless told otherwise.

"A bath?" When had I ever had a bath? Being dunked in a cold pool of filthy water wasn't my idea of a bath. "Maybe a month?" I whispered with a one shoulder shrug. It wasn't often I was allowed to be clean.

"No wonder," he said, almost like he was disappointed. "There's soap, shampoo, other girly products, you can use to get all cleaned up. Use whatever you'd like. I'll be back in a bit with some clean clothes for you." He said, standing up. "If you need anything, just yell," with that, he let the bathroom, closing the door most of the way, but leaving a small crack so he would most likely be able to hear me. I wouldn't call for help even if I needed it.

Not knowing how long I was allowed to have to get cleaned, I grabbed the body wash and lathered up the sponge. I scrubbed my entire body to where my skin was a bright pink. The water was a murky brown color by the time I was clean from head to toe. I attempted to run my hands through the tangled mess, but gave up after a short few minutes. Not knowing when the man would return, I pulled my knees up to my chest and wrapped my arms loosely around them.

I am not sure how long I sat there, just waiting. I was used to having to wait, sometimes hours to be told what to do next, and I'd have to sit or stay in the same position the entire time.

What would happen to me now? Did I run for nothing? I did I maybe run into the arms of a savior literally?

A soft knock brought me out of my dark thoughts. The man was back. I didn't acknowledge him, as I was trained to do.

"Here's some clothes for you. I'm not sure if they will fit, but it's all the small store had, I was told," he spoke while he walked into the room and set a small pile of clothes on the counter that was a few feet from the bath tub. "Do you think you can get dressed on your own?"

Probably not, but I nodded anyway. I would manage, like I always have had to do. I was hungry, tired, and sore, although that was the norm for me.

I slowly lifted myself out of the dirty water, pulling the plug, once the man was gone from the room. Stepping out, my legs felt like jello, but I ignored it and grabbed the rusty colored towel from the towel rack above the toilet soaking as much water from my hair as possible, I tried to hurry before my body would eventually give out.

I hastily tossed the clothes on that the man got me. A pair of black yoga pants that ended up fitting perfect and a pair of simple underwear and a bra. The gray tank top ended up being too big across my chest. There was also a button up long sleeve shirt that smelt clean with a hint of cedar.

If felt nice to be clean and out of the filthy scratchy gowns I'd always have to wear. The gowns all of us were expected to wear were never washed often and smelt horrible, but one could never expect it to smell anything remotely good at the compound.

Knowing my hair was a lost cause, since I saw no brush anywhere, I slowly opened the door after hanging the towel back up. Taking a few steps out onto the carpeted floor, I tried to keep my head down as not to draw attention to myself. But I couldn't help but look around.

The carpet was a dark brown and had stains in places. The furniture, what little there was, was scattered about randomly. A worn black leather loveseat was pushed back against the farthest wall from the bathroom and next to what looked like a door the man had dragged me into whatever this place. There was also a small tube TV which sat upon a chair in the corner a few feet from the sofa.

Towards the kitchen area, which was small, stood the man with his back to me. The cupboards looked as if the doors would fall off the hinges with little force. A small two seated table sat against the wall closest to me next to the bathroom.

The man wore a plain black shirt and dark blue jeans and appeared to not know I was done getting dressed. That, in the compound, could be a good thing or bad thing. This wasn't the compound though, so I wasn't sure what was expected of me.

"Oh," the man gasped as he turned around and saw me standing there wide eyed before dropping my eyes to the floor. "I was just about to come check on you." After a short pause he continued, "You must be hungry. Come have a seat."

I slowly shuffled my bare feet along the few steps to the little brown table to my left. The man sat at a small plate down to the chair I was closest to. The plate contained half a slice of bread folded into a sandwich with what smelt like peanut butter. There was also a couple slices of an apple. My mouth began to water just thinking about eating the food.

Not knowing if this was some sort of test, I sat gingerly on the edge of the chair with my hands folded in my lap. I tried to look at anything but the food. "Eat girl," spoke the man from near the sink where he stood eating his own food.

I gently and shakily picked up the apple slice and took a little bite. It was fresh and juicy. After that first bite, I tried to eat slow, but couldn't stop myself from eating everything within in a few short minutes. I swallowed the last bite of the sandwich right as a bottle of water, the same as I was had earlier, was placed in front of me as the plate was taken away.

"Sorry I didn't have more food to give ya. I was planning to leave tonight, but had a feeling I needed to stay around for a few more hours," the man explained. "I had someone run to the store for me to pick up those clothes for you this afternoon when my 'feeler' started acting up," he continued.

What did he mean by 'feeler'? And did I even want to know?

"Name's Peter Whitlock, by the way. Sorry for not inducing you before," he stated. "Now, we are going for a road trip. And I am hoping that guy isn't out there trying to find ya. He's bad news."

Did this Peter guy loose his mind at one point in time? I know I'm not like normal people, and my mark alone can tell me that, but he jabbers on about nonsense. He seemed like a decent guy, but there was no way I was trusting him.

"Now, road trip time, girl. We are gonna meet up with my friend of sorts. He should have been here, but he ignored my 'feelers' and does his own thing. You will be important to him and myself," he spoke as he checked a few empty spots for who knows what. "Of course, you don't have to come with me. You can stay and go back to the life you have."

There was no way I could go back to the life I had in the compound. I would pray for death to take me before ever returning to Master. I'd rather risk my life once more this night than return to that hell.

I didn't notice I was shaking my head and near panic until Peter kneeled in front of me where I still sat. "Hey, suga," he spoke softly while putting a palm against my right cheek. Once he had my attention, at least what I was capable of at the moment, he continued to talk quietly. "What has you so panicked? Is it me? Or what you are running away from?"

My near panic stopped me from talking; from answering this man. I was scared of what would become of me if I went with him. Would I be his slave like I have been trained to be? But I was more terrified of what would become of my life if I went back from where I escaped from. I knew I would be punished severely for my disobedience against Master.

"You don't have much choice now," he mumbled as the fire alarm rang out somewhere above us. He gently lifted me by my right elbow and dragged me out a door near the fridge in the kitchen. I didn't notice it before, but I also wasn't looking for it.

"Now, you need to keep up. That fire was started by someone wanting us out. But I have the advantage of having a hidden exit," Peter yelled as the building began to fill with smoke as we walked out towards a dark and deserted parking lot. He carried a duffle bag in the other hand that was not holding on to me.

Glancing back the way we came from the building, I could see flames flickering out of some of the broken windows. Sirens could be heard in the distance. One thought ran through my mind was 'did Master start the fire to get me out, or to try to kill me?' I knew without a doubt he was behind the fire.

"Hurry, girl. We need to be out of sight before the fire truck gets here," he spoke horridly, drawing my attention back to where we were headed.

I tried to hurry my steps to match his, but it was useless with how tired my body was. I ended up tripping over my own two feet a few times, each time Peter would pull me back up before I would hit the ground.

Once we reached the truck, that I assumed belonged to Peter, he threw his duffle into the back and lifted me as easy as a feather into the cab. I scooted over towards the passenger side and put the seat belt on. He started the truck and sped from the parking spot right as the building a little ways down the block gave off an explosion somewhere within.

The blast shook the truck as he drove off, going just a little faster than the speed limit should have been.

Peter fiddled with the radio as we left the outskirts of the city. I kept my fidgeting hands in my lap, playing with the ends of the black and blue flannel shirt. I watched out of the windows as the lights flickered past us. There didn't seem to be very many people out and about. I had to guess that it was about three or so in the morning. Since my last 'job' was at midnight. It almost seemed like it was so long ago with everything that had happened in such a short time since then.

He took a few back streets going one way then another. I wondered if this was to see if we were being followed, before hitting the main road out of town.

A tune of a cell phone began to sound as we drove farther away from the city limits out towards the country. Peter answered with a 'ello' while turning the radio down.

"I'm headed your way to the homestead," Peter replied. "And I'm bringin' a guest. . . . Well I really 'aven't gotten a name. She hasn't exactly spoken, or made any sort of noise . . . A few hours . . . I will explain when we get there. You will see what I can't explain . . . . Okay . . . See you in about three hours or so."

During the phone call, I kept my ear on the conversation and looked out the side window trying to make it look like I wasn't listening in. With the training I had to endure, I learned fast that it is always better to make sure you listened to everything that was being said while in someone's presence. You never know if you are told to do a job or you are to completely act like they aren't there.

It was obvious he was talking to the caller about me. I don't remember the last time I really said my name to anyone. With all the jobs' I was supplied for, the men never wanted a name to go along with a face. Names weren't really an important part of what I had to do.

After a few minutes of silence, Peter sighed deeply. "You must be tired, girl. Go ahead and get comfortable and get some sleep, I'll wake you up when we get home."

At the mention of sleep, my body yearned for the little piece of rest it so much wanted. I couldn't contain the huge yawn that escaped. I covered my mouth, trying to keep it from being noticed, but Peter still chuckled quality to himself. He flipped on the radio to a country station then grabbed a fleece blanket from behind the seats.

"Here, this may work to either use as a pillow or whatever," he said as he laid the black blanket in the seat between us.

I was tempted to mumble a 'thanks' but wasn't sure if I'd be able to get it out. Since the cab of the truck was warm and the air vents didn't work the best in the truck, I bundled the blanket next to the window and leaned my head against it. It didn't take me long before I was sound asleep.