A/N: AU story... Rated M for language, violence, sexual content (mostly likely eventually, I think. I'll go M just to be safe) There is most likely no historical accuracy to anything in this story (as Nucky so eloquently said, "Why let facts stand in the way of a good story?") All characters, while based on real people or Boardwalk Empire characters, are solely my own creations for this story.

Jimmy was the only one who knew my secret. In fact, he's the one who helped me carry it off for as long as I did. I think it was in his mind to deny the truth when Richard discovered what I was hiding. But then he saw the possibilities, and the life I'd been leading for the past eight years was suddenly over.

I first met Jimmy Darmody when I was fourteen years old. I was hiding under the boardwalk. He was skipping school, and apparently had the sheriff's department looking for him. I was huddled next to a pylon, so wrapped up in my misery that I didn't notice him until he had run past and kicked up some sand. I must've made some protesting sound, because Jimmy turned around and looked at me.

"Hey! Sorry!" he said, a crooked grin on his face. "I didn't think anyone else would be down here." He tossed his head to move the dark blond bangs that fell over his forehead. "Mind if I join you?"

"I'm not in the mood to be good company," I replied.

"I've got something that always improves a mood," he said as he reached into his pants pockets and pulled something out. He sat down beside me and offered me a flask. "It's brandy," he told me. "It's smooth, but it kinda burns going down. Try it. No offense, but you look like you could use it."

I took the flask from him with a scowl. I know I looked like I needed it, but it was still rude of him to point it out. I undid the lid, put the flask to my lips and tipped my head back. When the brandy first hit my mouth, I had to agree with Jimmy that it was smooth. I didn't really know what that meant, but smooth seemed like a fitting word.

When I swallowed it, I realized Jimmy's assessment of 'kinda burns going down' was about the same as saying the Atlantic Ocean was kinda salty and a wee bit wet. My eyes watered and I nearly choked.

"It may take some getting used to," Jimmy said as he took a swig. I was pleased to see his eyes watered too, but he didn't cough.

"So, what're you hiding from?" Jimmy asked as he handed the flask back to me. "I'd think a pretty girl like you would be up above with a line of suitors following." His tone was playful, with a jovial gallantry to it. It rather hit a nerve, however, and I took a longer drink of the brandy. I experienced something I had never felt before: the overwhelming urge to get drunk.

"Me?" Jimmy said after I was quiet for a long while. "I decided to skip school today, after I took off with that brandy. This didn't make Nucky happy, so now Sheriff Thompson and his men are scouring the boardwalk for me."

"You don't think it'll occur to them to look down here?" I asked. "It's kind of a obvious place to look."

"Nah," he said with a dismissive laugh. "They don't really want to find me. Looking for me is a good excuse for them to look busy without doing any real work. They get to spend this beautiful day outside while having every opportunity to speak with lovely ladies."

"You sound like you know a lot about the sheriff. Spend a lot of quality time with them?"

"Yes. But not the way you're thinking." That's when he told me about Nucky Thompson, who was like a father to him, and Nucky's brother Eli. Apparently they kept a close eye on Jimmy, trying to keep him on the straight and narrow.

"So you're running away from these men who only want the best for you?" I snorted and looked out towards the ocean. The tide was just starting to turn.

"Well, tell me who you're hiding from. The guy who did that?" He finally drew attention to my face, which was bruised and swollen.

"Him, and others like him," I said.

"Your father?"

"Don't know who my father is. My mother was a whore."

"Then who did this?"

And so I found myself telling this perfect stranger about how my mother realized she could make more money selling my body than her own. How, two weeks after my thirteenth birthday, a man came into my bedroom one night and raped me. About the long string of men who came into my bedroom, beat me, raped me, degraded me for being a half-breed, yet called me the most beautiful thing they'd ever seen.

"I've finally had enough," I said in the end.

"If you need help getting out of the city," he started, his voice filled with genuine concern.

"I know how I'm leaving," I said. "And if you'll excuse me, it looks like it's time for me to head out."

I stood up and started to brush the sand from my skirts, realized how ridiculous that was, and started walking toward the water.

I was almost to the water when Jimmy came running up and planted himself in front of me.

"What do you think you're doing?" he asked, gripping me upper arms. I stiffened and jerked away. Jimmy let me go quickly and held his hands up in the air, as if to say he wouldn't touch me again.

"Sorry," he said as he lowered his hands and stuffed them into his pants pockets. "Now, what do you think you're doing?"

"The tide is going out. I have every intention of going with it."

"You're planning on drowning yourself? You can't think of any other way to get out of this? Why don't you leave town? I can help you..."

"I appreciate it, but do you think I stand a better chance anywhere else? I can't defend myself, and I can easily picture myself getting stuck in some brothel somewhere for lack of anywhere else to go."

"Then stay here. Go into hiding."

"Oh yes!" I replied with heavy sarcasm. "What a wonderful life! Stay locked inside some cheap boardinghouse! Sounds absolutely delightful!"

"We could make you...less appealing..." he said thoughtfully. His mouth tightened into a thoughtful purse.

"How? Cut my face up?"

"Nothing that drastic. I was thinking...disguise you."