CHAPTER 2

"James, baby, there's something I need to tell you…" I whispered, slowly handing him the bag.

He glanced down at it for a moment before I saw the change. His eyes darkened with immense rage as he threw the bottle of Jack against the far wall.

"What the FUCK is that?" His voice roared as he quickly leaned across the island, fisting my hair painfully in his hand.

BPOV

I winced in excruciating pain as he roughly jerked me to him. I made the mistake of looking into his cold, blue eyes and seeing just how drunk he really was, I realized instantly that this was going to be different than any other time. I didn't know how I knew, but there was this sickening feeling in my gut. Without a second thought, my hands flew to my stomach, hoping in some way I could shield the miracle inside me.

As James' grip tightened further, causing me to cry out, he lowered his mouth to my ear, and I could smell the whiskey oozing from his pores.

"If this is your pathetic way in telling me you're fucking pregnant, I don't buy it. I know you've been fucking around on me, you worthless whore. I know and you know that the vile being you're supposedly carrying isn't mine."

The hatred in his tone had me in fear for my life, something that had never happened before.

"So, here's what's going to happen," James slowly backed away from my face, gripping my jaw painfully in his left hand, and forced me to look him in the eye. "You're going to start by telling me whose it fucking is. And think hard about this because I'm not giving a second chance," he hissed with pure venom.

Something in me snapped. Who the hell did he think he was threatening me in such a way? I'd never done a damn thing to him that would give him reason to suspect me of infidelity. Even more so, he had no right to say whether or not chances would be given. I didn't need a fucking chance; I needed a damn baseball bat and a way out. Before even thinking it through, I pulled my right hand back, ripped out of his vice grip on my hair and swung at him, hitting his jaw, and causing his head to fly back.

"FUCK YOU!" I spat. "I have NEVER slept around on you, and we both fucking know it! I come home, overjoyed at the news of us having a child, and you spat on it with your fucking drunkenness! When the hell are you going to fucking grow up and get some help? I've sat back and taken all the shit you've dished out, and yet I stuck with you. If it had been anybody else, they'd have left first chance. NOT ANYMORE! I will NOT have my child grow up around your fucked up issues and alcoholism. I'm DONE!"

My voice was laced with all the hurt and anger he'd instilled in me over the past few years, but once I really looked into his eyes, I regretted it. I had probably just signed my death warrant.

Suddenly, I was in fear for my safety. My hands pressed against his chest to try to keep him at a distance. His eyes turned murderous, and his left hand, once again, formed a tight grip in my hair as he ripped my head up, and then viciously shoved it down to the granite surface of the island. I lost my footing from the shooting pain running through my head and slumped to the floor in a heap. I could feel the trickling of something warm oozing down my face and soon realized it was blood when the metallic taste met my mouth. I began to scoot away from where I was, in what direction I wasn't sure, as I heard angry footfalls coming from around the side of the island. Before I could even blink, the point of his steel-toe boot hit my back. I arched involuntarily at the sharp zings going throughout my body. Tears streamed down my face as I cried, as I wondered of I would make it out of this.

"You don't get to say you're done, bitch! Say something else!" James roared as he once again rammed his boot into my back. I closed my eyes tightly and shook my head, as my hands cradled it, and I curled in on myself in defense. He apparently had other plans. I felt his hand latch onto my hair as he turned me on my back and started pounding his fists into my face. My arms wrapped around my midsection as I started spitting blood. I was sure he'd broken my cheekbone. I could feel my eyes swelling shut as he became relentless. I wasn't sure where my fight came from, but I somehow found the courage to unwind my hands from my body and push against him to hopefully find some relief. Everything had begun to spin, worse than it was before, and the room was going dark.

There are no words for the searing pain I felt throughout my face and back. My stomach was queasy and a big ball of knots. My throat hurt, as I choked on blood and tears. When he finally let up, he gripped forcefully on my arms, shaking me violently.

"You're right about one thing, you fucking bitch. We ARE done! I'm done with you. Do us both a fucking favor and get rid of it," he spat viciously, glancing down at my stomach, before I heard the slamming of the front door.

I knew what I had to do; who I had to call. God help me, but I desperately didn't want to make that call. As I groaned in insurmountable agony, I blindly reached in the direction of the barstool, which I'd set my purse. My heart was pounding unevenly as I fished my phone from the back pocket.

I sobbed pathetically loudly as I pressed the speed dial, distraught at how differently tonight had gone from what I'd originally planned. Suddenly, I couldn't breathe; the phone was ringing.

"Well now, if it isn't Ms. B. Couldn't wait until morning, huh? Had to have your fill…" I couldn't help the gut wrenching sob that escaped my lips. I knew Edward had heard me loud and clear, as the silence on the phone was thick with tension, the only sounds heard were my sobs, moans and sniffling, and his heavy, tremulous breathing.

"Bella," his velvet voice was laced with heavy concern. "Bella, what's wrong?"

"E…Edward." I hated crying like this to him over the phone. I hated dragging him into this fucked up mess that was now my life. "I need you, please."

There was a long pause. I could hear his breathing becoming heavier as rustling sounded on the line. I heard the jangle of keys and knew he was putting on his jacket and closing his house up to come to me.

"What happened?" Edward's tone had completely changed from worry to seriousness and anger. "What did James…?" I didn't let him finish before I cut him off unintentionally by screaming out in horror at the sharp stabbing pain that pierced through my ribcage as my body shifted on the floor.

"I'm on my way."

Those were the last words I heard before the phone went dead. I instantly panicked. This was going to be the worst he'd ever seen me. Before, I'd always had a busted lip, or a welt on my face from a slap, but never anything of this magnitude. If I could have moved at all without feeling as if I'd die, I would have gotten up and attempted to clean myself off, so it wouldn't look so bad. But, there was no way in hell I was moving from my spot, unless someone physically removed me. I feared what Edward's reaction would be when he arrived.

Edward had a strong hatred for domestic abuse, and I knew what happened would surely put him over the edge. I hadn't looked in a mirror, so I could only imagine what the damage looked like. If I knew Edward as well as I'd liked to think I did, he would probably throw his fist through something and pull at the ends of his hair in pure frustration until clumps came out. All I could do was hope and pray that James wouldn't return or be anywhere near the building when Edward arrived and caught sight of me. James would be a wanted man. I then succumbed to the darkness surrounding me, unable to keep up the fight any longer.

EPOV

Red. That's all I saw. I didn't even know what happened yet, and I was ready to kill him for making her, my sweet Bella, cry that way. Who the fuck was I kidding? I yelled inside my head as I raced down to my car. Of course I knew what happened. My asshole best friend had another episode. If I had to guess right, he'd gotten drunk and lashed out at her like he always fucking did. I'd comforted her more nights than I cared to remember due to his damn psychotic tendencies. Don't get me wrong, I was and would always be more than happy to be the one she called. In fact, I loved that she trusted me enough to do so. But every time I would take her in and see the evidence from his lashing, it made me crazy with want to destroy him. James Carter was no longer the guy I'd grown up being best friends. That James was long gone and hadn't been seen for years. All that remained was a shell of the former man, scarred and disturbed by his time in Iraq.

I used to have sympathy for him, but after Bella and I tried relentlessly for months to get him help, reaching nothing, but a brick wall, my sympathy died and was replaced with resentment.

Yeah, I resented the fucking hell out of that asshole.

I needed to call Emmett, but I knew not to until I was there and could see just how bad it was. And to be honest, if I got there and James was still lurking around somewhere, I wanted it to be my hands alone that found purchase in bashing his face. I needed to stop my train of thought. My knuckles were white as I gripped the steering wheel with all I had. My heart pounded in my ears, and I was pretty sure my body was shaking. A huge knot had found a home in my stomach, as something told me I was about to encounter something bad; worse than it had ever been. And that thought fucking scared me.

Bella's apartment building had come into view. The feeling in my stomach only intensified when I spotted her car on the curb and James' bike nowhere in sight. I was torn between deciding if that was a good thing or a bad thing. When I pulled my car in behind hers, I had to take several deep breaths to try to ease the shaking down a bit. I didn't think it worked considering I could hardly open my fucking car door. The trip to the elevator and the climb up to her floor seemed like the longest moments of my life. I was sure I looked like a mad man as I stood outside her door. I paced up and down the hall, mumbling to myself, hoping and praying I was getting worked up over nothing. But there was never an overreaction when it came to Bella. I knew this woman probably better than she knew herself, and she wouldn't have called me so late, crying and pleading that she needed me, if something wasn't truly wrong. She'd have left and driven to me herself. That fact fucking sent my fear straight to my core when I realized that in the four years I'd known her, she'd never called me in this situation. Bella had always come to me, at my place. So the question of why she'd changed her ways suddenly had my heart and stomach in my throat as I raised my hand, rapping on her door a few times.

No response. Fuck me.

I knocked again, waiting a few more moments. She still hadn't responded. I took a step forward and placed my ear against the door. It was so quiet you could have heard a pin drop. If I hadn't seen her car outside, I'd have been questioning whether she was even fucking there at all. In my haste to get to her, I'd neglected to ask where she was when she called. But she didn't volunteer it either.

I took in a deep breath before I pulled the key out of my pocket and walked through the door. James had given me a key to his place years ago. I'd never had a reason to use the damn thing until now. I pushed open the door, and at first glance everything seemed normal. Nothing was out of place. I proceeded inside slowly, not knowing what to expect. The fear I'd felt in my stomach before hit an all time high.

Nothing out of the ordinary. Why am I freaking out? Well that's all fine and fucking dandy, but she was sobbing when I'd last spoken to her, and when Bella cried, she cried for hours.

Being here in her apartment and not hearing even the slightest sniffle was scarier than anything my mind alone could have thought. I slowly walked into the living room, scanning everything around me and still seeing nothing. The remote for the TV sat on the end table next to her couch. As I reached for the remote to turn it off, I heard what seemed to be a very faint humming.

"Bella?" I called out, turning away from the living room. Then I saw it.

My blood ran cold as nausea settled. In the doorway, leading to the kitchen, was the toe of her high heeled shoe, lying on the wooden floor unmoving.

I didn't know how long I stood there, planted to that spot in the living room, nor did I know where I had gotten the sudden burst of adrenaline. I fucking flew as fast as my feet could carry me to her side. Upon sight of her, the queasy feeling in my stomach hit me full force. Her battered face flashed repeatedly in my head as I choked on the violent clenching in my stomach. Both her eyes were swollen shut, her lashes and brows caked in blood that had apparently oozed from a large gash in her forehead, matting her beautiful chestnut locks to her face. Her nose was curved at an odd angle as blood ran to her severely busted lips. I couldn't count the lacerations in her lips, as they were so bloodied and horrifically swollen. What finally made me give it up the battle against my stomach, was the bruising of her right cheek. Judging from the swelling, I would suspect it was broken. My vision blurred as I finally hunched over the island and emptied the contents of my stomach into the sink. It was so much worse than I imagined. Never, never had Bella suffered from a beating of such magnitude. My heart was shattered and barely beating.

A burning sensation stung from behind my eyes as I heaved a final time. I wiped at my mouth with a rag that was lying on the counter. In doing so, I noticed a Ziploc baggy sitting next to her keys. I strained to focus as I saw…

FUCK. That couldn't be a…Bella wasn't. Was she?

My eyes reluctantly went back down to her, and I sank to my knees where I found her right hand wrapped around her phone, her left hand covered her abdomen. Another onslaught of bile rose in my stomach, but I swallowed it down. I needed to get a fucking grip on myself. I watched her chest rise and fall in shallow breaths and placed my trembling hand gently against the left side of her face, stroking my thumb back and forth.

"B, wake up." My voice cracked under the emotion, and I shook my head at myself. "Bella…come on, sweetheart. I need you to wake up." I managed to force my voice out a little more firmly. Her eyes fluttered open slowly. A groan squeezed past her lips as she attempted to move, the high pitch of her yell crushing me.

"Ed…Edward?" Her voice was raspy and weak, holding none of the strength I'd grown accustomed to hearing from her. "Help me…the baby…"

The weight of her words washed over me and instantly had me in a panic. I knew her face was badly battered, but I wasn't sure how badly. I didn't know whether to move her from the spot on the floor and take her to the hospital myself or whether to call a fucking ambulance. I didn't want to risk the chance of her being severely hurt and then injured furthermore by picking her up in my arms. But, I also wasn't about to fucking wait for a damned ambulance to get to her apartment. Calling an ambulance would more than likely bring cops that would more than fucking likely want answers, and I wasn't going to put my Bella through that. Not yet at least. One thing was for damn sure: James must have had some kind of fucking angel watching over his pathetic ass or something to have not been here when I got there. I'm not sure he would have escaped alive; had he encountered me.

I couldn't stand by and watch her lie there anymore without doing something. The longer I left her there, the more Bella's condition could worsen. And if she was pregnant, that was a whole other reason for a more immediate reaction. Swallowing roughly, I slowly slid one arm beneath her shoulders, and the other under her knees. I held my breath, as I gathered her into my arms. Her weakened voice let out a guttural moan as liquid oozed from her swollen eyes. My heart clenched at the unimaginable pain she was suffering. Her head rested limply in the crook of my neck, as I placed a gentle kiss to her forehead, letting my tears fall silently. I pulled my lips from her bloodied skin as I mumbled my apologies to her and hoisted myself to my feet.

BPOV

The painful throbbing that pulsed throughout my body had rendered me speechless. The only sounds passing through my lips being groans and screams. The only peace of mind I had was the warmth I found in Edward's arms when he carefully carried me out of that God forsaken apartment. I'd given up on trying to open my eyes. The swelling had already advanced too much. I could only make out the blurry sleeve of his faded brown leather jacket. His scent completely enveloped me and reminded me of how differently this night could have gone. If it had all gone my way, I would have been wrapped in Edward's arms with the promise of his love surrounding me.

"B? Come on, sweetheart. Stay with me." The softness of his voice held urgency to it and as much as I hated it, I heard the raw fear laced through it. Apparently, he had thought I'd slipped back into unconsciousness.

"I'm still awake, barely, but I'm here." Hearing the weakness and scratchy tone of my voice was somewhat out of body for me. I sounded awful, to the likeness of someone with laryngitis on the brink of death.

The chime of the elevator sounded and the doors opened. We walked into the lobby and then out into the cool November air. Maybe I did slip out for a minute because I didn't recall hearing the door to my apartment shut, or the first chime that signaled us having gotten into the elevator.

"Where is he?" Edward literally snarled, breaking me from my thoughts.

"I don't know," I rasped as I let my head slump against his shoulder, unable to keep my it up anymore. His hand fished around beneath me, in what I assumed was his jacket pocket for his keys. Next thing I knew, he was lowering me into the passenger seat with the gentlest care; as if he was afraid I would break; always mindful of my pain. Once I was seated, Edward leaned over, putting his neck within a hair's breath of my mouth, and buckled my seat belt, then leaned over and started the car; turning the heat on full blast. Despite my pain, the urge I felt to press my lips to the skin of his neck was unbearable. As he retracted, his hand softly cupped my chin, and lifted my head. I could feel his eyes on me and not being able to look back into them brought an unwanted burning behind my own.

"Hey, I'm going to run up and grab your purse and a change of clothes. I'll be right back. I'm going to lock the doors, okay? When I get back, I'll tap on the window and I'll need you to unlock them. Can you do that?" Now his tone sounded frantic. Panic surged through me at being left alone.

"N...no! Don't leave me…you can't leave me here! What am I to do if James comes back?" I cried out, my voice cracking on the words. I reached out, gripping his hand in mine for dear life. There was a long pause, then I felt the unmistakable warmth of his cheek against mine, his stubble lightly scratching against my jaw.

"Shh…" The emotion caused his voice to tremor. "I'm going to let Felix know you're here in the car and to keep an eye out and make sure no one comes near, okay? I'll be quick, Bella. Nothing is going to happen. I've got you now, and that son of a bitch won't stand a chance with me here."

Before I could protest, he pulled his hand from mine. I heard the click of the lock after he shut the door, and he was gone. I supposed him telling Felix to stand watch eased my fears a little, but nothing would put me at peace again until Edward was seated beside me.

Felix was the security guard for my apartment building. He was a very large, intimidating man that rivaled that of my brother, Emmett. He had a teddy bear side that few ever saw but I'd happened to see it on more than one occasion. He'd kept me company a few times when James had acted out and Edward was out of town. I knew well that Felix despised James. However, I often wondered how or why no one had ever alerted him to the ruckus coming from my apartment with James' altercations. It's not like we weren't loud enough, tonight especially.

It was becoming hard to focus on anything other than the pain I was feeling. Which I supposed was also why I didn't initially register the tapping on the window when Edward returned. It wasn't until I heard him anxiously calling my name that I snapped out of it and blindly reached to unlock the door.

As he slid into the driver's seat and closed the door, a cool gust washed over me, sending a chill up my spine that brought on a piercing stab. I couldn't help moaning. Suddenly, something heavy and thick was placed over me, offering warmth. I quickly recognized it to be the throw blanket which usually resided over the back of my couch.

"Tha…thank you." My teeth chattered.

"Sorry I frightened you, but I thought you'd fallen asleep and I didn't bring my spare key," Edward said with a wry tone.

"No. Not just for the blanket; for everything, Edward. I'm sorry for having called at this…" I didn't get to finish before he cut me off.

"Don't. Don't you fucking dare apologize to me for this, Bella. I'm here for you, and you are not to blame for any of this. You hear me? I've always taken care of you because I want to, so don't start with apologies now." I had obviously hurt him with my comment. I felt it rolling off of him in waves.

"I didn't mean to," I started but realized it would be better to have this conversation when I wasn't in such a critical state. "Thank you. I'm sorry. It's just my head is all over the place. And I hurt…so badly." I whispered, hoping he'd understand and not take what I'd said to heart, but I knew he already had.

"You don't have to explain anything. Let's just get you taken care of, and we'll talk later okay?" Edward said gently, covering my hand with his.

"Where are we going?"

"I'm taking you to Carlisle's. He'll be able to treat you at his home, and you won't have to deal with the stress of a waiting room. That, and you'll be somewhere safe and familiar, which is what I think you need right now."

"Just don't leave me alone, okay?" I pleaded as I gathered the blanket closer around my chin. His hand squeezed mine lightly.

"You won't have to worry about that. Nothing is going to make me leave you, especially not now." The sincerity in his voice was urging me to believe him, and I did.