Author's Note: I've created a facebook profile for this story. It's filled with visual aids and other fun stuff. Join me by adding "Ayah Papaya" to your friends list.

Bella's big night out with Jake is coming in the next chapter, so get ready!

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Bella's POV

"Bella? Can I come in?" His voice was strained, slightly panicked. The knocking continued.

"No." gasp gasp "I'm still" wheeze "in my towel."

"I don't care. I won't look. I'm coming in. Push away from the door." I reached up from the floor and locked it.

"No." my breathing sped up more, as if that were possible. The spinning had me so nauseous, I couldn't see straight. Everything he said to me sounded as if I were holding my ears, and he was speaking through a tube.

"A lock won't stop me, Isabella." Jacob tried jiggling the handle to no avail; it was still locked.

He'd really done it then. I went into full scale panic mode. Those were the exact words Bob said before he knocked down the door, and chased me with the hot iron. "No, Bobby! Don't hurt me. Please? Bobby, no. No! No! No! The baby. Please? Please?" I could hear him fiddling with the door, and the whole thing came off the hinges. There was a soft knocking again, farther away this time. The babysitter.

He rushed into the bathroom with me, and spoke through the closed door at the same time. He told her he'd be just a minute. His wife was dressing. Wait—his who?

He found me wrapped in my towel, face pressed against the cold tile floor. His boiling hot skin furthered the memory; searing my skin, and bringing on a second wave of hysteria that he didn't, couldn't, understand. He stroked me arm, and kept repeating that no one was going to hurt me. He'd protect me; I was safe. I believed him, and it helped. My breathing slowed. His intense body heat became a radiating comfort, instead of a catalyst of fear. He said he loved my son, and that he loved me; he would wait till I was ready—till I was capable of love. He would wait an eternity if he had too. He lifted me off the floor like I was a doll.

Once I was standing, I put my arms around his neck for support. My legs were like jelly; no form or substance. Just shaky and weak--I could collapse at any moment... That soft, thirsty towel was the furthest from my concerns, and yet it wedged its way to the forefront, as it slid to the floor. Like a feather in a windstorm; I watched it float and twist aimlessly. Leaving me bare, allowing Jacob to bear witness to my hideousness.

Alice's POV

The parking was impossible. I had forgotten how much NYC aggravated me. I should have parked in Brooklyn and taken the train in. I wasn't even sure she'd gone into labor yet. I wasn't sure about anything other than she was going to have to drive herself to the hospital. I was also sure that I couldn't let her see me. I needn't have worried. The gentleman at the front desk said that an Isabella Handler was in the maternity ward, and that she'd given birth to a beautiful baby boy just a few hours before. I thanked him, and headed towards the elevators. They opened onto a bright wing, plenty of windows. I breathed in deeply, trying to pinpoint her exact location. No mistakes today, Alice.

My phone vibrated. Edward again. Where are you?

In New York. I replied quickly

Why?

The shopping, Edward. Why else? I have to go. Be back soon.

I turned my phone off. I was wandering through the halls trying to find my way, when I came across the nursery. I stopped in front of the glass; my curiosity getting the better of me. A nurse stared at me curiously, while I tried to pick out Bella's baby from the rest. It took me a moment to remember why I didn't see him—I was looking for baby Swan... It was baby Handler I was looking for. I scrawled "Handler" on a piece of paper, and the nurse walked across the room to wheel a bassinet closer to the glass wall. I took a picture of him with my phone. I loved him as soon as I saw him. He looked nothing like Bella, to be honest, but he was still beautiful.

He had a rounded little face with puffy little eyes, still blue from birth, a wide pug nose, and soft pink lips. He was very dark, and had a head full of soft curls. He reminded me of Emmett. No, I doubt Emmett could ever have been so cute as a child.

The card in the bassinet said she was in room 310b, and I paused just outside to hear what was going on. I heard nothing but her even breathing. She was sleeping, deeply from what it sounded like. "Edward, don't go!" She whimpered. "No, Bob. Please? It's not my fault Bob. Robert, no!" I wanted to shake her awake to make the nightmares cease, but I knew that I couldn't. Her last phrase cut through me like no knife ever could. "Help me? Edward? Alice, don't go."

My eyes widened. She's awake, and she's seen me. Bella tried to roll, but settled for a change in position. I'd overstayed my limit; if I didn't leave now, I never would. I loved her, and my brother loved her. Seeing her beaten destroyed any inner peace our kind could have. I kissed her softly before I left; her eyelids fluttering at the cool touch. Charlie marched into the maternity ward as I left through the entrance, but he didn't notice me. His eyes were only for Bella.

Alone and beaten in that room—unbelievable, unfathomable. I had my proof, and I'd be damned if I sat back and watched him hurt her again. If it were at all possible, tears would have filled my eyes. Seeing my fallen sister in that bed, prisoner to this life—the life we led her to by leaving. This would kill Edward if he knew. I would deal with him indirectly; no one will suspect my involvement.

Jake's POV

I heard her breathing pace change, and I knew something was wrong. Another panic attack, maybe. I knocked on the door, as quietly as I could. She tried to keep me out, but I wasn't having any of that. She shuffled around, and cracked the door. She was leaning against the sink, for support, wrapped in a towel. Seeing her like that, with her wavy hair wet; it was almost too much. Until you've looked upon Bella, you've never seen true beauty.

I let her know about the sitter's impending arrival. She asked me what she should wear, well, if I had my way, it would be nothing. I bet she'd be mad if I told her that, and I couldn't help but smile. It's truly unfortunate that I promised to behave... I still wasn't entirely sure what our plans were.

I could still see her perfectly, even through the very slight crack. I got a perfect view of that large white mark, as her towel slipped down three inches. What could make a mark like that? It almost had a nautical shape to it—like looking at a boat from underneath. The fury swept over me uncontrollably, and I could barely fight the impulse to transform. I could feel the heat, my body blurring, and collapsing in on itself. The stretching of my clothes; would they tear before I found control?

It was the knock at the door, the babysitter, that kept me in control. Using the old nickname I had for her helped me stay focused. She'd become "JellyBelly" since I discovered her favorite candy. Sometimes, when feeling extra goofy, I called her "Bellybean". Usually, I let my tongue hang out the side of my mouth for that... She really hated that one.

Something I said had apparently upset her. Her jaw shot out, and her small face squished in as she drew the towel tighter around her. "...Dinner, and then some live entertainment, maybe?" I'm starving, Bells. Please don't turn down food? Please? "Just get dressed, Bella. We'll figure it out."

I couldn't help but smile at her. Even battered and scarred, my tiny Bella, she was the most gorgeous woman I'd ever known. The door clicked closed, and I heard her shuffling around. She was fine; it was time to address the babysitter. I opened the door, and saw a young lady, maybe around 19; carrying a stack of tabloids.

"Mr. Black?" Her green eyes were striking, kind, many faceted. "I'm here on behalf of the KidsCare program.

I heard a soft 'thunk' in the bathroom, followed by a sliding. She needed me. What was going on in there? "My wife is getting dressed now." Wife...Oh, if only. "Is it ok if I let you in in a minute?"

She winked at me, and said, "Sure! I get paid by the hour. Take all the time you need." Momentarily distracted, I smiled at her. It took me a fraction of a second to head back to the bathroom door, telling Bella that I was coming in, and that she should move away from the door.

Had she fallen? Was she conscious? I could hear her gasping for breath; she sounded like a fish out of water. My hand touched the knob as she turned the lock in the door.

Aggravation added to the plethora of emotions I was feeling; love and worry the most abundant. I heard her tell me that I couldn't go in because she was still in her towel. "A lock won't stop me, Isabella." I jiggled the handle for emphasis.

I could cut her panic with a knife at that point. The wheezing and gasping grew so quick, it sounded like one continuous breath instead of dozens of shallow ones. She started crying, quietly, weakly, like a sick kitten. "No, Bobby! Don't hurt me. Please? Bobby, no. No! No! No! The baby. Please? Please?"

What could she be seeing? Reliving inside the beautiful mind, that I loved so much. I deftly slid the hinges out of their sockets, and tossed them soundlessly on the dresser. Amazing that Aaron still slept, both Bella and Charlie complained that he was a light sleeper.

I carefully pulled the door off the wall, and slid down next to her. She lay curled in a fetal position, strewn over the tiles. She was as white as the towel she clung to. No, she was whiter. White as the floor tiles caressing her face. Whiter still! White as the bloodsucker who chased her away from me, in the first place. Chased her into the arms of the man who had broken her.

I touched her, and she was frigid; like a block of ice. The heat from my skin frightened her, and started a new onslaught of terror. What was she seeing, in her unseeing eyes? I wound my arms around her, and stroked the length of her side. "No one will hurt you, Bella. I'll protect you." Close proximity seemed to help her calm, and I used that as a tool. My lips were close enough to tickle her ear. "You're safe now, Bella. I won't let him hurt you anymore." Burying my face in the back of her soft, damp hair; just at the nape of her neck was so satisfying for me. I belonged there; she was my home.

Her breathing began to slow—she was calming at my touch. I waited till she was breathing normally to speak again. "I love your little boy, Bella; like he was my own. I love you with all of my heart, and all of my soul too. I know you don't feel the same way now; you've been through far too much for that. I'll wait until you're ready—capable of being with another man, in that way. I'll wait for eternity, if I have to. I love you Bella, and I'll wait for you. I know I promised to behave on this trip, and I swear I will. I just want you to know that you're safe. He can't reach you, or anyone you love while I'm here. I'll protect you, Bella. I'll protect you both. You are my family." I tried to keep the mask in place, but the emotion was burning through.

As I stood, to help lift her, she placed her arms around my neck. She was shaking like a leaf, and needed that extra stability. She was so light, so frail. Everything about her screamed 'breakable'. The towel around her seems to weigh more than she does.

Her legs shook, as she placed more weight on them. This worried me; did she have the strength to stand on her own? She slid her hands to my shoulders for more support; leaving a trail of fire, on their way down my neck. My eyes fluttered with sheer ecstasy. I sucked in a sharp breath, as she touched me, even in this most innocent and necessary of ways.

That was when it happened.

That was when the towel crumpled uselessly on the floor. Bella. My Bella had nothing to hide from me then. I saw every scar, every cut, every burn that he'd administered. She looked more like a veteran prisoner of war than a 23 year old woman. Largely, her arms and legs had been spared. Only a very few smaller whitish scars were visible on her legs. It was her torso that looked like she'd single handedly fought a battalion of soldiers. Seeing that nautical burn, in it's entirety, I realized it was the shape of an iron. He'd touched a hot iron to her soft, sweet skin.

The thought of anyone being reckless enough to harm this lovely, trusting creature was just unbelievable. What had she ever done to deserve such treatment as this? At least the bloodsucker had watched out for her well being. At least he had been protective of her. Edward's leaving had only damaged her mind, but this husband of hers; he'd destroyed her inside, and out. Her entire being flushed crimson with embarrassment, and shame, no doubt. She would be ashamed that she'd let this happen to her. So protective of everyone else—the caretaker. The idea that she would need to be taken care of would be almost too much for her. She didn't want me to know her secrets. She wasn't ready for me to know her in that way.

I used every morsel of strength in my reservoir to avert my gaze. How many times have I pictured her like this, well, minus that awful scarring. Her breasts so full and supple; the only part I could see that he hadn't destroyed. Perhaps it was a matter of taste that kept him from marring such perfection. I longed to reach out and touch her, to make her passionately cry out my name. I could feel my temperature rising, if I didn't do something soon, I would NOT be able to behave myself. I pulled her into me, as tightly as I dared, and tried not to think of the bare skin, pressed against me. She gasped; frightened by the sudden movement, and proximity. I would have to try harder to be more predictable for her. I'd always been more of a "live in the moment" kind of guy. She needed to be able to predict my next move; I could not take her by surprise. I refused to frighten her.

The physicality of this heart wrenching hug was overwhelming, and heady, for us both. I had to fight to control my manhood. I promised to wait for her, after all. As my hands closed the distance of her back; I felt long channels with my fingertips. How had these marks appeared? Had he whipped her too? Did no part of her go unviolated? "You're safe now, Bells. I love you. You're safe with me." I drew in a deep breath of her sweet, floral scent. It was dizzying. "Get dressed; the kid is waiting outside."

I desired to shower her body with caresses, but contented myself with kissing her cheek as I released her, and quickly put the door back on the bathroom.

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