"You wanna hear ridiculous!?" I can hear Glenn across the bar, yelling into his phone. "Guy stripped my car down to nothing!"

Oh, Glenn. Always exaggerating. Glenn is the one that runs KC's, the bar I work in. It's owned by Glenn's father-in-law Hershel Greene. I got hired on when they opened the place, because I was the only experienced bar tender in the small town. I had to lie to them about my age, though, because I was only 16 at the time. Since then, they've hired some additional staff members who come and go. That's how I met Jackson. He was new to town and came to interview for a job. Ultimately, he accepted a position as a mechanic at a local garage, but I was the one that helped Glenn interview him. He seemed like a great guy at the time. If only I'd known then what I know now.

"Welcome, Princess," Glenn comments as I walk by him to put my purse in the back room.

"I'm late," I sigh. "I know."

"Rough day?" He asks.

"Very," I answer simply. "News is on."

Glenn is very serious about watching the news every single day. He insists that we all need to stay informed - I guess he thinks there's going to be some kind of zombie apocalypse someday or something.

"We have some good news to bring to you today," the overly chipper news anchor announces. "Officer Rick Grimes, the deputy injured in last month's shootout, is being released from the hospital today. To celebrate the return of one of King County's finest, we have received word that KC's will be giving out free drinks to any member of the King County Sheriff's Department and 2 for 1 drinks to the rest of the county this Friday night."

"You didn't," I groan.

"We have to support our officers," Glenn responds. "And business has been slow. We need to get people in the door."

"Well, I can't..."

"I need everyone on staff," he cuts me off. "I know you have finals soon, but one night of not studying won't kill you."

Maybe he won't come. Maybe he doesn't know Officer Grimes very well. He's very enticing, maybe he'll have a date that night. I come up with every reason that I can think of for why Shane wouldn't come in Friday night. Logically, I know that he'll be here, but I can't stand the idea of him meeting Jackson. He'll know automatically. I'm pretty sure he has a good idea already, but one look at Jackson while he's drinking and it's a dead giveaway.

Glenn's right, though. Business has been slow. So slow that I spend the rest of the night studying in between handing out beers to the regulars. They all try to tell me little jokes, the same ones I hear we after week. Still, I laugh with them. I wonder if they can tell that with every little laugh I give, there's a shooting pain in my ribs that accompanies it. At the end of the night, I take a portion of my tips and stuff them into the mason jar that I decorated and keep in the back room. I've been doing this for a few months now, just in case there's ever an emergency. Jackson doesn't know about it. He'd freak out if he knew.

I gather up the rest of my things and shut the lights out. As I lock up and walk to the car, I find myself daydreaming about what it would be like to date Shane Walsh. He's so muscular and masculine, but I'll bet he's never laid an unwanted hand on a woman. I drive home quickly, wanting to make it home on time. Luckily, I do. I heat up what I had previously prepared for dinner and sit down at the table with my textbooks. I'm going to have to get some extra studying done since I'm working Friday night.

"The hell you think you're doing?" Jackson asks, coming out freshly showered.

"I have to get some extra studying done. I have to work Friday night because of the event that Glenn planned for the recovered officer."

"Good," he says. "You'll be there to get my drinks."

I'm waiting for him to say something else, but he just throws his towel in the hamper and goes into the bedroom. I unintentionally stay up all night reading over my notes and working on the final copy of my term paper. I'm still sitting at the kithen table when he wakes up the next morning.

"Where's my breakfast bitch?" He grumbles.

"Oh," I look at the clock. "I didn't realize the time. I'll get started on it right now."

"Forget it," he knocks one of my books off the table. "I'll go out."

"I'll make french toast tomorrow," I try to smooth it over. "And those muffins that you like Saturday morning."

I thought adding the bit about the muffins would help, but apparently I was wrong. He stops in his tracks and turns around, glaring at me. I know the next few seconds will be the calm before the storm. I really don't know what set him off this time. Before I can move, he's flipped the table over on top of me.

As I look in the mirror, getting myself ready for class today, I know that makeup will never cover the bruises on my face. Bruises that, no doubt, will get darker as the day goes on and be a deep shade of black and purple just in time for the event at work tomorrow night. Just in time for every officer in King County to come in and see it.