A/N: Please remember to continue reviewing. Even small one word reviews are precious to me. I just want to know that I am making my message clear.

Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight.

The last sound she heard was his voice as he whispered, "Sleep well sweet girl."

She did not in fact sleep well. As soon as her subconscious sensed that Edward had left the room, the nightmares came. They were dark and brutal. Her memories of Jacob's actions seemed even more disturbing in the dark light of her nightmares. The way his eyes flashed with lust and desire every time he looked at her had never made her more frightened than in her nightmares.

She knew that he was not normal. She knew that there was something wrong with him. He was sadistic and sick. His actions were disgusting and just purely torturous. The only word she could use to describe him was evil. There was just nothing else strong enough that her mind could come up with.

She woke with a start. Her body launched itself upward until she was in the sitting position. Her chest heaved up and down as she tried to suppress the memory of a particularly horrifying 'punishment' she had to go through. She knew it wasn't her fault.

The men that had hurt her had broken her…humiliated her…made her believe that she was disgusting and tainted. But they could never make her believe that it was her own fault. Her hair stuck to her face as she practically drowned in her own sweat. She felt herself cooling down. The air conditioning quickened the process.

She took in her surroundings and all of the events in the past day suddenly came crashing down on her. The weight of it all sat on her chest and she once again struggled to breathe.

Jacob had been especially brutal that afternoon. She moved about; flipping the soft cotton sheet over her body so that she could free her legs. She felt the stiffness in her muscles. She felt the soreness in her face. She felt the rawness of the sensitive flesh in between her legs.

She stood up; her feet made contact with the plush carpeting on the floor. She took a step towards the bedroom door. The gut-wrenching pain along with her unsureness made her freeze in place. She bit back a scream of pain. She breathed deeply to calm her thundering heart.

She had no idea what she was supposed to do. He hadn't told her what she was supposed to do when she woke up. She was afraid that she would do something wrong. She was afraid that he would punish her. She was afraid that he would give her back instead of keeping the promise he made to help her.

She took another step forward and winced as the pain rattled through her bones. She began to shake uncontrollably. She took another step forward and bit down on her tongue. She tasted blood. It reminded her of him. She held in a loud sob as she continued to move forward. The metallic taste lingered in her mouth and she felt like vomiting.

Her legs shook as she continued her slow movements to the door. Maybe Edward would be able to help me, she thought. She hoped that he would have something for the excruciating pain in between her legs.

Or maybe he'll punish you. Her inner voice was once again interfering with her decision making process. It made her unsure and uneasy. It made her second guess her actions. But she continued to move forward. Determination coursed through her. She just had to prove her inner monologue wrong.

She finally reached the door. It was slightly ajar and she could see that he had left the hall light on. She took a deep breath and continued her slow actions through his house. She saw pictures hanging on the walls but she was too distracted by the pain to pay attention to them. She noticed that his house was homey. It made her feel warm and safe. The various deep autumn colors radiated warmth and comfort.

The dark reddish brown furniture was old but very well cared for. She could tell. They had spindly carvings of leaves and vines that ran up the legs that held them up. They were ornately carved with seemingly obsessive perfection. They were beautiful.

She continued down the short hallway; alternating between biting her tongue and biting her lip to keep from breaking down. The pain was overbearing. She continually tasted blood in her mouth. It was nauseating to say the least. It made her dizzy as wave after wave of memories bombarded her. But she tried not to let it deter her. She had to bear the pain if she wanted something that will ease it.

The thought never occurred to her that she could just call out to him; for him. She was taught—from the very beginning of her 'training'—that she should never speak unless told otherwise. But her naturally rebellious and independent teenaged mind had caused her to endure more than a few horrifying 'punishments' because of her disobedience. Her attempts at escape had never worked. Eventually the others had broken her too much. She was too submissive to even try to hope for freedom.

She saw a light coming from an opened door on the right side of the hallway. She assumed he would be there. She resumed her movements; she had stopped because she feared that she would scream as the pain pushed her farther and farther away. It pushed her away from her recovery. It pushed her away from peace.

It pushed her away from the freedom she so desperately desired.

She walked slowly to the door. She reached her right hand out and her nails gripped onto the door post. She felt the soft wood give way beneath her fingers. She saw little fragments of wood fall to the ground with a silent wisp as it hit the hardwood floor. She was certain that he would be angry with her for ruining his door post. She gasped as she pulled herself the final step. Glad that she could rest for a second, she looked up in search of him.

She saw him sitting at a large cherry wood desk. He was looking down at a beige folder and reading its contents with rapt attention. His pale hand was a stark contrast to the mess of bronze hair on his head as he continued to torture it with his fingers.

She shifted so that she was standing directly in the doorway. The movement caused a fresh wave of pain to flood through her. She whimpered that the overwhelming feeling.

His head snapped up suddenly and he looked at her with electric green eyes. They were suddenly filled with rage and concern for her. A trail of blood had leaked from her mouth and down her chin. Her eyes were red from her salty tears.

She felt the fear as it flooded through her system. She backed up slightly as he stood up suddenly and spoke loudly. "Did you just walk here?" his words were accusing and incredulous.

"I-I'm sorry." She whimpered and cowered away from him. She saw his face immediately soften. He realized that he had just let his control slip. He couldn't let it happen again. He saw what it reduced her to and he hated it.

"Please don't apologize." His voice was pleading. He walked over to her and stood before her. She nodded her head, still looking down. He reached his hand forward to tilt her head upward so that she would look him in the eye. He saw her try to repress a flinch. Her body didn't twitch like it usually did. But her eyes closed and she turned her head away from him slightly.

He retracted his hand but he bent down so that he was at eye level with her. "Bella." He called. "Please look at me." He went on after she didn't respond. "I'm sorry for yelling." She turned her head to look at him and saw truth and regret for his actions in his eyes. "Do you forgive me?" his voice was unsure. No one had ever asked for her forgiveness before. No one had ever apologized to her before. She nodded her head; not wanting to ruin the groundbreaking moment by stuttering out a reply.

His smile was heart-breaking and beautiful. His liquid paper white teeth sparkled as his lips stretched into a crooked grin. She felt her heart thundering in her chest and she was certain that he could hear it too.

Carefully and without making any sudden movements, he placed his hand against the bruise on her cheek. He stretched his thumb out and wiped away the blood dripping from her lip.

When he finished, he folded his right arm around her legs and wrapped his left arm around her back. He lifted her up easily and she gasped as she felt the strength his body possessed. He spoke then, "Would you like to eat something?"

She suddenly felt starved. "Yes please." Her voice was small and unsure. She didn't know if he was playing a joke on her. She didn't want to sound too eager. The part of her that was used to the lies and pain thought that he would just keep it away from her to torture her if she was too eager for it. Jacob had done it all the time.

One of his favorites was not letting her use the bathroom for days. It was painful to even sit down because her bladder felt as if it was going to explode. He would press down on her stomach and threaten her that if she released her bladder he would rape her until she bled. He would deny her food and water too. He loved it when he would see her growing weaker and weaker by the day.

If she begged for the bathroom or food and water; he would just hold it back from her longer.

Her unsureness disappeared when Edward smiled his beautiful smile at her. He carried her to the stairs and began his decent. "I can walk if you want." Her voice made him pause mid-step. He looked down at her with fierce eyes and suddenly she was afraid that he would throw her down the stairs. She clutched his shirt in her hands so that it would be more difficult for him to throw her.

He shook his head. "You are not going to be walking for a very long time Bella." She felt tears building up in her eyes. He had commanded her, he hadn't asked her. She felt herself doubting who he was; who he claimed to be.

He saw every single emotion that crossed her face and the deep dark abyss of her bottomless brown eyes. He saw the fear and the doubt. She doubted him. He felt his heart sink at his realization. "Please don't cry Bella." He pleaded with her as he resumed his movements down the stairs. "I can see how much pain you are in when you walk. I just want what's best for you." He looked down at her again as he walked down the hallway to the kitchen. "And what's best for you is letting your body heal first. Then we can work on your mind."

His face was utterly serious. She could see the concern etched into his angular features. She nodded her head. "I'm sorry." She said in the same small and unsure voice.

He sighed heavily as he set her on the kitchen counter. The granite was cold beneath her skin. He leaned his forehead against hers and looked into her eyes. "Please don't apologize. You have done nothing that warrants an apology. I actually find it hard to believe that you will ever do something that requires an apology." She saw that he believed the words he was saying. She nodded her head; acquiescing to his request.

He smiled crookedly at her before he picked her up again and settled her on one of the bar stools that surrounded the kitchen island. "What would you like to eat?" he asked.

She smelled the permeating scent of spaghetti. She knew he had made that for her; she was confused. She wondered why he would ask her what she wanted even though he clearly had just made spaghetti.

He wanted her to make a choice. He was pushing her towards recovery. Slowly but surely, he knew that he was helping her by letting her decide.

"Scrambled eggs and a cup of tea please." She stated her request as she awkwardly played with her fingers. When she looked up at him she was shocked. She was certain that the grin he was wearing would split his face in half.

He turned towards the fridge and said, "Okay." She watched him as he worked. She was in awe of his grace. She was a very clumsy girl.

She studied his face. He had strong masculine features. His nose was perfectly straight. His eyes were a strange bright shade of green. They were fringed by thick black lashes. His eyebrows were broad and thick.

She smiled to herself. She hated it when men spent and exorbitant amount of money on keeping their appearance pristine. She found it strange and a little awkward when men spent more money on their own hygiene then she did.

At the house, she was allowed one razor and bottle of shaving cream a month. She was supposed to keep all parts of her body bare. She was only allowed one bottle of shampoo and conditioner a month as well. She had one hair brush and one tooth brush. It really was like a prison.

He had full pink lips. They looked soft and inviting. She had never thought that about anyone else. Jacob had always forced her to kiss him but she always felt like vomiting as she did so.

She began to wonder about the man in front of her. Working up her courage she said, "How old are you?"

He turned around and smiled. "19." Her eyebrows shot up and he saw the surprise in her face. He chuckled lowly. "I graduated high school early. Then I went to the academy and I graduated from their early too."

He turned around with a smile on his face when he heard the eggs beginning to sizzle in the pan. She was moving forward. She had asked him a question. He felt that it was a monumental step forward. Then he heard her soft and sweet voice, "I graduated high school early too." His smile fell knowing what was coming. He turned around and made his way to her.

He held her in his arms. He begged her to return to him, but she wouldn't. She was too lost in the memory of the day she was taken.

A/N: Okay…no questions about Edward's young age. That's a major part of the plot line so...well…zip it about that, m'kay?

I love you all.