Jaida convinced herself she would never call Dominic or any of the Toretto gang. They had known her parents, her brothers, they would be ashamed of how Jaida and Marco ended up. She couldn't disgrace her parent's reputation by alerting the other family to their current situation. Marco and his friends attended the same races that the Torreto's did and Jaida could only pray that he acted slightly more civilized there. Jaida never went to the races, it was too hard to be surrounded by the people and machines that her father had surrounded himself with most of his life. The best part of the races was that it meant she could have a small reprieve from the typical bullshit that filled her home when her brother brought his friends back. Jaida took the opportunity to make a quick dinner and shower before heading up to her room. The crowd usually stumbled in around 1 or 2 AM then drank well into the morning, and after checking the clock on her phone Jaida realized she only had a few minutes before they were due back. She didn't remember the last time she had been so drained, so exhausted, and after slipping on a pair of cotton shorts and her dad's old t-shirt Jaida fell into bed and instantly welcomed sleep.

Dom had kept his eye on Marco Grazziati, and when he raced Brian took watch for him. Dom had explained the history of the families to Brian and voiced his concern about the kids. Brian said he had a contact in the child services office and could have someone sent out to the house to make sure everything was okay. Dominic hesitated, the last thing he wanted to do to the poor girl was have her taken from her only remaining family member and placed in foster care. He would have killed the bastard that had attempted to remove Mia from his care if the situation had been reversed. Brian and Dom both noticed the exchanges taking place among the group of young adults surrounding Marco. People weren't typically concerned about subtlety at the races, no one would call the cops, not even over drugs.

Jaida had been so exhausted that night that she hadn't remembered to lock the door to her bedroom. She also slept so soundly that she didn't hear her door open and reclose after a stranger silently slipped in. She didn't feel the bed dip as he climbed onto the mattress or hear the zipper on his torn jeans come undone. Her first conscious moment escaped her throat in a terrified scream when a body pinned her own to the bed and tightly grabbed her wrists. She didn't know the man, he may have been one of the many to crash downstairs after drinking or smoking himself into oblivion. The occasions were numerous and as she searched his face in the dark she tried to find a recognizable feature. The man simply stared down at her as she nearly hyperventilated beneath him. She couldn't form words, she couldn't even breathe around the terror that lodged itself in her chest like a freight train. The man was big, although most people seemed large compared to her. His hands were big enough to hold both of her wrists in one of his palms, his fingers pressing tightly into the delicate bone. She still couldn't speak, couldn't ask what he wanted, couldn't yell for help. The noise from downstairs was loud enough that she doubted anyone would hear her anyway. In a moment of cold, stark fear, Jaida knew she wasn't going to get out of this, at least not whole. Something would be taken from her and she hoped it wouldn't be her life.

Dominic kicked the crowds out early, he wasn't in the mood tonight. None of the boys, nor Letty or Mia protested. They knew Dom was concerned about the Grazziati kids, especially after seeing the exchanges tonight. Dom didn't have Jaida's number, he had only added his information to her contact list, so he couldn't call and make sure she was really okay. He didn't have Marco's number but shared some mutual friends who could easily provide it to him. He wondered if it was his place to contact them, at the very least it would be incredibly awkward. He rubbed a hand over his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, a tension headache beginning to beat beneath his fingertips. Jesse had told him in the past that he ran into Jaida at the library every now and again, the building would be open tomorrow and Dom made up his mind to drop by to see if he could find her. He felt strange about approaching her at her home, he didn't want to invade the only space she probably felt comfort in these days.

Dom trudged up the stairs from the living room to his bedroom and willed his mind to stop focusing on the sad green eyes that kept him from sleep.

Jaida prayed for death. The body on top of her was suffocating without actually causing enough damage to kill her and she was slightly shocked to find she was praying for her life to end, when only moments before she was hoping to live. The man she couldn't recognize had his mouth on her throat and she could feel the cracked, dry surface of his lips scratch the skin over her pulse point like sandpaper. She swallowed bile when his tongue touched her and she caught a whiff of his breath. It smelled like decay, and she wondered if she would ever be able to lay in her bed again without imagining the odor. She couldn't tell what color his hair was but she could feel that it was greasy as the top of his head brushed her cheek. All thoughts immediately ceased when she heard his voice.

"Little girl, little girl, let me come in, the wolf says…"

His quiet chuckle made every hair stand up on her body and her stomach roll. She fought the urge to close her eyes, knowing that if she did in fact get out of this situation she needed to be able to provide the police with identifying features. Greasy hair and death breath weren't going to cut it. He shifted slightly and when she looked up they locked eyes. She squinted a little, trying to see the color of his irises or make out any scars or jewelry. His mouth twitched while his hand tightened on her wrists. She could hear his teeth grind momentarily. Jaida was stunned by the impossibly fast swing of his hand as it moved from the edge of her shirt to connect with her cheek. The resounding slap sounded like thunder in her head and her teeth locked on the tip of her tongue. She immediately tasted the iron tang of blood.

"I know what you're doing, little girl. Stop."

His other hand left her wrist and Jaida felt a moment of relief.

The next moment her father's t-shirt was covering her face, having been roughly yanked up her torso and pulled over her nose and eyes, effectively blinding her and binding her arms from much movement. Jaida's heart pounded as she kicked her legs with every ounce of energy, bucking her small body like a wild animal in an attempt to get this stranger off her body. Her mouth opened to release a blood-curdling scream, louder than any noise she thought she could make and she felt the man still over her. Then he began laughing.

"you can huff, and you can puff, but only I can blow the house down…"

His palms were on her bare chest, painfully abrasive against tender skin that had never been touched by another person. His mouth was on her throat again and he shifted so he was no longer straddling her legs but had a thigh in between them, pressed against her.

Jaida began sobbing between her screams and his laughs, quickly losing the energy to fight any longer. She barely registered his finger trace down her abdomen and tug at the waist band of the boxer shorts she was wearing.

And just as quickly as it started, Jaida was free. The man kissed her hard on the mouth, a bruising kiss that hurt her already sore jaw. His teeth nipped at her collar bone and she flinched, and then he was gone. Jaida didn't move when she heard her bedroom door close. Or when she started breathing again. Her eyes were still covered with her daddy's shirt and boxers were stretched across her open legs, and still Jaida remained as immobile as a statue.