A/N: Thanks for reading. This chapter has been edited as of Nov 1, 2014.

Chapter 1

"Geez, Bella! What the hell happened to you?"

I cringed and sucked in a breath before turning to look at my co-worker, Sandy. She continued to stare at my back as I adjusted my work shirt and pulled it down over my hips. I had made the immeasurable mistake of changing into my new work uniform in Penny's office along with Sandy, Angelina, and Sara. I thought that if I'd stood with my back to everyone that no one would have noticed the damage that had been done in the last few days. Obviously my plan had worked brilliantly. I hadn't realised that my back bore any evidence of…the incidents over the weekend.

Shit. Think fast, Swan. And make it convincing.

I turned around with a smirk and rolled my eyes at the four pairs of wide stares that met me and did my best to come off blasé. "Oh, you know, one of those wild nights where we just couldn't make it upstairs. The kitchen floor sounded like a good idea at the time. And the table. I guess we just got carried away."

It left a sour taste in my mouth to utter such lies and twisted my stomach to even think about him in such a manner. I could feel the bile as it rose up in my throat but forced it back down with a fake grin and a wink. Angie and Sara cackled and turned back to finish getting ready while Penny and Sandy just continued to stare at me. I kept my eyes up and didn't let my deceit show on my face and betray me. I didn't need their pity and I didn't need anyone nosing in on my life. Not like it would change anything anyway. Well, that's not entirely true. I'm pretty sure he would murder me and bury me in the backyard like he'd been threatening to for the last four months if he ever got the impression that I'd let anyone in on our little secret.

"Carried away, huh?" Sandy asked quietly after we'd left Penny's office and headed off to our floors.

"Yeah, why? You and Ray have never gotten a little rough and wild?" I tried to tease but it sounded false even to my own ears.

"Bella," she started to say when we reached the desk to pick up our floor assignments for the week. I didn't give her a chance to finish.

"It's fine, Sandy, really. He feels really bad that I got all banged up…no pun intended," I tried to joke but she didn't even crack a smile.

"He should feel bad," she said meaningfully as she turned to look at me straight on.

Her gaze penetrated right through me and I could just tell that she knew. There had been too many instances where I'd come into work with injuries I'd been able to explain away all too easily. Too many times I'd asked for the extra shift just to avoid going home to a fight or an unpredictable night that I just didn't have the energy to handle. And of course, too many times when I'd worn clothing to conceal the proof something was wrong even if wasn't seasonally appropriate. Sandy had noticed everything in the five short months that we'd been working together at Sunrise Assisted Living in Scottsdale, but up until now she'd never said anything to me about it. Unfortunately for her, this wasn't a conversation I was willing to have with her or anyone else for that matter.

"He does," I insisted firmly and then reached over and picked up my schedule.

"I don't want to intrude, baby girl. Just…promise me that you'll come to me if it gets too serious. I can't offer you much but I've got a couch…and you know Ray would adore having you around to clean up after his sloppy ass," she snarked with a shake of her head.

I snorted. I already cleaned up after a man who was perfectly capable of doing so himself. I wasn't about to volunteer to take care of someone else's. I made my way to the first room on my list and knocked lightly on the door before entering.

"Mrs DiMatteo? Are you decent?" I poked my head around the corner to see my favorite patient sitting on her little twin bed, looking out the window.

"Never," she remarked before turning to me with a wicked smile. "And I thought I told you to call me Mary."

"Sorry, I was raised to be respectful of my elders and address them as Mr or Mrs, Mary. I'll try to remember next time," I assured her while I readied her wheelchair.

"You're a good girl," she complimented me with a smile as I helped her into her chair and began to wheel her towards the dining room.

"What's on the menu for tonight?" she asked while we waited in line for the others in chairs and those with walkers to slowly make their way down the hall.

"Ryan made meatloaf and potatoes tonight." Ryan was the cook for the night meals. He was by far the residents' favorite since he seasoned things well and didn't serve them mush that he tried to pass off as food.

"Oh, good! Just make sure he doesn't make broccoli again. We've got enough trouble with gas at our age without any assistance," she grimaced.

I snickered and shook my head. I'd been working as a caregiver for five months and I had yet to get used to the way some of the residents spoke about themselves. It was hard to keep seeing them as grandparent types when they discussed their bowel movements and lack of sex life with me. But since it was my job to help them feel as normal as possible while living there I made sure that to treat them with the respect they deserved and found it easier to just joke with them like I would someone closer to my own age.

"Don't worry, Mary. I sent him into Angelo's room last time and I think he got the message pretty clearly." She hooted in laughter as I pushed her up to her seat and waved before I turned to collect the others in the south hall.

Eleven o'clock rolled around much too quickly. I had managed to keep busy the entire night by going the extra mile with a few of our more demanding residents to ensure that they didn't drive the rest of the staff crazy with their attention seeking antics. When I realised that my shift was over my stomach sank down to my toes so fast it could have been filled with concrete. I was just about to go ask Penny if I could work any extra shift when I saw him sitting out in the lobby.

I worked really hard to control my fear and not let my disappointment show on my face before I made my way over to him. He stood fluidly, producing a single white rose from nowhere. A soft smile tugged at the corners of his thin lips as he held up his little peace offering. His blue eyes were gentle and warm and for a single second I recalled what had drawn me to him in the first place. He wasn't the most stunningly good looking man I'd ever been with – not that there had been many or that they'd been the male model types – but he was charming and had this way of looking at me like I was the most beautiful creature he'd ever set his eyes on.

I'd known James since we were in middle school. My mom, Renee, and I had moved into the school district after she'd had a failed relationship with a married CEO in Tucson. That was when she had shacked up with Phil in his dilapidated little bungalow. James and his mother had lived across town in one of the only areas near Scottsdale where there were housing projects. We'd become fast friends since we were some of the only kids not dressed in designer clothes or driving fancy cars.

He'd always been super protective of me, especially when the few guys I'd dated had their asshole moments and became borderline abusive. It was when he'd crossed the line of protective to obsessive that I'd somehow missed it. I was just so shocked that anyone would take it upon themselves to protect me when it wasn't their obligation or job to do it that I couldn't feel anything other than awe and gratitude.

We'd figured out rather quickly that we had more than a few things in common. James lived with him mom and series of shitty boyfriends who frequently took their frustrations out on him. His mom never interfered, she just looked away and drowned herself in vodka so she could pretend that some crack head hadn't just beaten her six year old to a bloody pulp. Needless to say she wasn't my favorite person in the whole world. Not that my mother had been so much better.

Renee constantly needed attention and found it in a string of grossly inappropriate relationships before finally landing herself someone who wanted to tolerate her antics on a permanent basis. I think that's because Phil was always one of those people that society had just written off as a hopeless case. He'd dropped out of school when he was just fourteen to take care of his mother who had been dying of cancer and never finished high school even after she'd passed. He chose to work in factories and warehouses since he was a big, strong guy and they paid decently well. When he'd met my mom he knew I was part of the package but just assumed that since I was eleven when they got married that I would eventually just whore myself out to the first guy who was willing to take care of me. Nice, huh?

In the mean time I had been subjected to his temper on numerous occasions when my mom wasn't around and even a few when she was. When I was thirteen I'd landed in the hospital more than three times in a five week period with various abrasions and one concussion. Renee's response? "Bella, if you really loved me you'd want me to be happy. Phil makes me happy and I deserve that after giving up so much to take care of you all this time, right? You're just going to have to be the grown up here and try harder to get along with him. Stop being so difficult to love," she'd said as we drove home from yet another emergency room trip. Oh yeah, and then the kicker. "And try to stop being so mouthy and antagonising him. I can't afford any more ER bills and the insurance only covers so much." So nurturing, my mother.

Childhood did have its momentary reprieves. I got to go visit my dad, Charlie, up in Forks, Washington every summer for six weeks and during the holidays. It was a welcome retreat from the state of hyper vigilance that I constantly existed in. I'd even made a few friends up there to spend time with while Charlie was at work. But I'd always stayed in contact with James. He was my best friend back home, one of the only people I'd truly let understand and know me.

And there he stood before me looking so much like the boy I had grown up with. The one who'd let me cry on his shoulder when my first boyfriend cheated on me and broke my heart just because I wouldn't sleep with him. Who'd danced with me at prom when my date had disappeared to go screw his ex in the girls bathroom, even though his girlfriend at the time, Victoria, was heavily pregnant with his son and beyond pissed that he was even talking to me. The very same guy who'd sweet talked his way into my heart when I'd given up all hope on men in general. At the ripe old age of 19 I had been ready to throw in the towel and become a nun. I wasn't Catholic or anything, but I was sure someone would take pity on me and let me join a convent. At least I'd have food, shelter, and no one would beat the crap out of me for finishing the last of the coffee.

"Hey there my angel. Ready to go?" he smiled a little and offered me his hand. It was easy to forget what had happened only a day or two ago when he acted all sweet like that.

"Sure. Let me just get my stuff and say goodnight to the girls, ok?" I smiled back as I smelled the light scent of my rose – he knew white was my favorite – and then turned to find Sandy.

I didn't have to look far. She stood by the front desk about ten feet away watching the whole exchange. Her face betrayed nothing, but I had gotten to know her pretty well in the past few months. She was watching James like a hawk and was wholly unimpressed by his little display of remorse. I skipped up to her and handed over my work keys so she could pass them along to Ava on the next shift. She never took her eyes off James during the exchange.

"See you tomorrow, Bella." Her voice held a warning that rang across the nearly empty lobby loud and clear.

I briefly closed my eyes and sighed heavily. There's no way that James had missed that. I turned around with a smile on my face that froze into place when I saw the dramatic shift in his body language. He stood tensed, his face a mask of indifference, but his eyes blazed hot with fury.

Great. Thanks for that, Sandy. So much for a nice, quiet night. I am so in for it when we get home.

I swallowed thickly and skipped as lightly as I could manage back over to him before grabbing his hand and stepping up on my tippy toes to plant a soft kiss on his cheek.

"Ok, I'm ready now. Let's go," I tried to stay light and unaffected by his shift in mood but when his eyes met mine I felt my already weak smile falter.

"Get in the car," he muttered darkly before guiding me out into the chilly, windless night.

Holy shit, holy shit, HOLY SHIT! What the fuck have I done? Oh, God he's really going to kill me this time. There is no doubt. I am literally a dead chick walking.

I pressed the gas pedal further towards the floor and the engine groaned in protest. I sincerely doubted an '84 Cutlass with over 150,000 miles on it was made for long road trips going more than seventy miles an hour, but at that particular moment I prayed to whatever deity there was up there that I was wrong. I couldn't afford to be wrong, not if I planned on surviving to see the sunrise.

I checked the rear view mirror for what must have been the thousandth time since I'd peeled out of the desolate street over three hours ago, leaving a drunk and royally pissed off James passed out on the kitchen floor. If by some great miracle he wasn't still mad when he woke up I knew that once he realised that I'd packed my meagre belongings, stolen his car, and fled the house at one in the morning he was bound to hit the roof.

Ok, so steal wasn't technically correct since I had been the one who had purchased the car for us and the title was actually in my name. So the stress of being arrested for grand theft auto could abate and let other, more realistic fears take its place. Like the very real possibility that James had woken up very quickly and was about to catch up to me with the use of his friends Camaro.

I tried to take a deep breath but had to stop myself when my diaphragm and throat muscles spasm in unison, almost causing me to black out behind the wheel from the sheer pain I was in. I straightened up and tried to swallow as gently as possible. Everything ached and sitting in a car hadn't helped my new injuries or my old ones. I wanted nothing more than to lie down and take a nap but I knew there was no way I could sleep. I was wired on adrenaline and so much anxiety that I could barely sit still. It was probably good that I wasn't in a car capable of going too much faster otherwise I was sure I'd have been pulled over for speeding already.

I noticed two things simultaneously; the gas light came on and on the right side of the highway was a large sign that welcomed me to Nevada. I hadn't even realised that I was on 93 until I saw the next turn off and rest stop advertised up ahead. I just gotten in the car and started driving away from that house as quickly as I could, but I had been on autopilot. Now that I knew what direction I was heading it both comforted me and made me exceedingly nervous.

I pulled into the Shell station and looked at the clock in the dash. The neon green lights read 4:27am. The gas station was nearly empty of cars though there were several big rigs parked near the on ramp with truckers mulling around drinking coffee and smoking cigarettes. They were far enough away I didn't have to worry about them seeing what a mess I was. It was going to be enough of a challenge to hide myself from the cashier while I paid for the gas.

I reached into the backseat and pulled my favorite black hoodie from my open duffel and zipped it up to the top, keeping the hood over my face as much as possible. I didn't care that I probably looked like someone about to rob the Shell station with the mini Dunkin Donuts attached. I didn't want people looking at me and getting any ideas to call the police or something. I didn't need that headache.

I rooted around in my purse until I found the long white tube sock I had stuffed in there while throwing all my things together in my rush to get the hell out of dodge. I had been withholding a small percentage of my pay checks every week for the last four months, ever since James had practically drained our joint account one night out with his friends at the local strip club. He'd dropped more than $800 on freaking lap dances and booze. I was beyond pissed when it happened but he was so apologetic that I knew if I'd made a big thing of it I was the one who would have had to deal with an angry drunk rather than a remorseful one.

As soon as the banks opened I would close the account at one of the branches in Nevada or even Oregon. There wasn't much in there but I had been the only one depositing money for the last few months since his pay checks were usually cashed to avoid having child support taken out of them. I usually made sure that was paid anyway. There was no reason why Vicky should have to raise their son, Nathan, on her own.

I filled the car quickly before sauntering in to warmth of the convenience store. I got the largest cup of coffee I could, loaded it up with sugar and half and half, before raiding the Entenmman's rack for a pack of chocolate frosted donuts. I hadn't eaten in over twelve hours and the last thing I'd had was a five day old slice of cold pizza, so needless to say I was salivating by the time I made it to the register to pay for it all. Even as anxious and restless as I was I knew I needed to eat. I had at least another 20 hours on the road, if not more, before I reached my final destination and I needed to try and do it without stopping for too long. I handed the clerk a few twenties and took my change before limping back to my car. I hadn't realised how sore my back was until right then. I needed a long hot shower, some arnica cream, and a few Excedrin and I would be just fine. I always was.

The next several hours were so uneventful that I became somewhat complacent. Miles upon miles of deserted highway started to fill in with morning traffic as I neared the more populated areas of Nevada but I'd miraculously managed to miss getting stuck in anything for too long. After two more gas stops and at least that many cups of coffee I found myself dangerously tired but so damned jittery from caffeine overload that I couldn't stop shaking. It was just after 2pm and I started to look for a place to pull over for a little nap when I saw that I had come to junction of Route 20 and 395. I was just about halfway there. Relief flooded me and I felt a surge of energy as I took a left and continued on my way.

I drove all through the day straight into the following night. It wasn't the first time I'd pulled an all-nighter, except this time I wasn't looking after elderly patients in a quiet residence hall. At the next pit stop where I refuelled I picked up some extra strength Tylenol and a cheeseburger from an a 24 hour Micky D's. It was the first service station in Washington. I'd nearly done it. It was only four more hours to Forks. I would be there around 6am, hopefully not too early to show up on someone's doorstep and beg for refuge. I knew he was an early riser so I had hope that he'd take pity on me and let me sleep before starting in with the barrage of questions I knew to expect from him. He was never one to let stuff go.

I was on the 101 with less than an hour to go when it came out of nowhere. Truthfully, it could have been painted hot pink and decorated in flashing lights and I probably still would have missed it. My eyes were so bleary and sore that I'd struggled to keep them open once I'd passed Hoquiam. I swerved to try and avoid it and that had been my downfall. Wet pavement from a recent rainfall had made the roads slick. Lucky for me I had only been going about 40 mph otherwise I'm sure I'd have wrapped my car all the way around the tree instead of hitting the deer that had ventured into the road in the grey, pre-dawn light.

No sooner had the impact jarred me against the harsh brace of the seatbelt my body decided it had finally had enough. I slumped forward slightly and rested my head on the steering wheel unable to quell the pain that screamed through my entire body before succumbing to the blackness that pressed down on me.