A.N. 1: Okay, I'm pretty sure this is the one you guys have been waiting for…Thanks to everyone who reviewed, it really means a lot!

A.N. 2: The gold star thing…A Gold Star is a female that has never slept with a guy and has no plans to. A few of you asked about that so I thought I'd clear that up. I just thought it was funny since Rach had a thing for gold stars in high school.

XX

"Where have you been?" a voice nearly growled at her in the dark causing Santana to jump, a hand on her chest.

"Richard," she sighed. "You scared me. You weren't supposed to be home until tomorrow."

"Where the hell have you been?" he asked again.

In the dark she watched him get up from his chair and cross his arms across his chest, his eyes narrowed, chin tilted up almost daring her to lie to him.

"I went to see Rachel's play with some friends from high school," she told him. She swallowed hard as a tiny ball of panic settled in her stomach and seemed to grow with the rapidity of a snowball sailing down a mountain, freezing her insides as it went.

"Who's the blonde?" he asked.

"Quinn?" she asked, knowing he wasn't referring to her best friend.

He took a step towards her, shedding a sliver of light onto his appearance. His eyes were glassy from his scotch, his hair was mused and his jaw set making him look rather maniacal. "You think you can go out with some tramp and I wouldn't find out about it?"

"Shut up, I know you have me followed," she told him irritably. She was so sick of his crazy behavior.

Suddenly she was seeing stars as his hand collided with her cheek. Her vision swam and her hands immediately cradled her face. His hands suddenly fisted in the material of her top, ripping it and he pulled her close, shaking her violently, the alcohol on his breath making her nauseous. "Did you just tell me to shut up?" His knuckles collided heavily with her chest and collarbone making her wince.

"Get your hands off me," she told him, her hands trying desperately to shove him away from her body.

He growled and pushed forward, causing her to scramble to keep her footing until she slammed into the wall behind her. She cried out as her head connected with the wall behind her and her vision swam again.

"You are my wife," he whispered, his mouth near her ear as he licked her neck roughly, clearly enjoying the way she struggled against him. She could feel his excitement against her leg and it made her sick. "You do not talk to me like that."

"Fuck you," she spat back. She yelped when his fist connected with her face and his knee with her stomach, sending her breath gasping out of her in one strike. He kicked the back of her knees, sending her sprawling to the ground. She began crawling, desperately trying to get away from his much larger frame.

"Oh no you don't." He grabbed her roughly and tugged her hair, causing her to cry out again.

He flipped her over and reached for her skirt, shoving it up roughly before reaching for the zipper on his pants. The sound of more material ripping flirted with her ears as the last of her clothing hiding her body from him disappeared and a rough hand on each thigh caused her to wince. As he pounded away, she didn't make a sound. Silent tears slid down her cheeks as he grunted in her ear, wincing as he bit down on her chest roughly as he came.

He panted heavily for a few moments before slapping her thigh roughly. "Talk back to me again, bitch, and I'll be sure the next time isn't quite as gentle. And tell anyone about this and I'll ruin you." He stood up and readjusted his clothes. "I'm going out. I'll be back tomorrow."

She remained motionless until she heard the front door click behind him and the deadbolt lock with the turn of his key. She swiped at her tears with shaking hands as she straightened her clothes out. Her head pounded in her ears from the force of the blow and she simply backed up until she was tucked safely into the corner of the room. She dropped her head to her knees as she began to sob.

It seemed that one thing was common in all New York apartments, no matter how much you paid for them.

Thin walls.

Rachel stood with her cell phone clutched to her chest. She'd very nearly called the police at the sounds from the apartment next door. But suddenly all was quiet and she was completely torn.

She flipped her television set on, turning it to the security channel, and she watched the activity in the lobby of the apartment building until she saw Santana's husband exit the building. She debated her options for a moment before settling on one and she exited her apartment and headed to the door next to hers. She knocked three times.

"Santana? It's me."

There was no answer after several long moments so she tried again.

"You know how stubborn I am. I'll stand out here all night."

She half expected that to work, but she was only greeted by more silence.

"Please let me in."

She held her breath and waited. Just as she was about to sit down in the hall the deadbolt clicked and the door opened. Santana kept herself hidden from view and Rachel slid inside and turned to face her friend, a shocked gasp falling from her lips when she saw the other girl.

Her hair was disheveled, mascara running. Her face was already starting to swell and her top was ripped revealing an angry bite mark on her chest. Santana was trembling as she shut the door and locked it, leaning against it heavily.

"I'm calling the police," Rachel told her, her voice shaking.

"No," Santana pleaded hoarsely. "Don't."

Rachel's eyes went wide. "Santana, your husband just beat the hell out of you. I'm calling the police right now. He better pray that they find him before I do."

"Please don't," the taller girl whispered, she slid to the floor into a trembling mess. "It'll be my word against his. Nobody will believe he did this."

"Santana…"

"No."

Rachel watched as the other girl for a moment before moving to sit on the floor next to her. She began dialing a number. "Well then I'm calling reinforcements."

"Not B."

Rachel shook her head. "No." A moment later she sighed. "Quinn? It's me."

Santana sighed heavily and let her head lean against the door behind her. She felt a gentle hand slide into hers a moment later and her eyes met Rachel's concerned gaze as she talked to the blonde for a moment before shutting her phone.

"She'll be here in fifteen minutes," Rachel told her.

Santana nodded as she suddenly broke down and cried. Rachel slid her arms around the other girl and held her tightly, trying to soothe the quaking girl in her arms as best she could.

Just as she began to calm down there was a knock on the door behind them, startling them both.

"It's me," Quinn called through the door.

Rachel stood and helped Santana to her feet as well, putting herself between the Latina and the door as she pulled it open. Quinn was standing with a bag of items from the drug store and she entered the apartment and gasped when she caught sight of her best friend.

"Oh, San," she whispered as she pulled the other girl into her arms, her bag falling to the floor.

"Q...I…didn't," Santana hiccupped. She held the blonde for everything she was worth as she dissolved into a sobbing mess.

"Sweetie, it's okay," Quinn soothed gently. "Rachel and I aren't going to let anything happen to you. You're safe, I promise."

Quinn met Rachel's terrified eyes and they held each other's gaze until Rachel picked up the bag on the floor and headed for the bathroom. A minute later the other two followed her into the room and Santana took a seat on the edge of the bathtub. Quinn ran a washcloth under warm water and kneeled in front of the other girl, wiping away dried blood and any makeup still on her face.

"What happened?" Quinn asked gently. "Sorry," she apologized softly as her friend hissed in pain.

"He had me followed," Santana admitted. "He does it from time to time when he spends too much time away from me. To make sure I'm not cheating on him."

"Bastard," Quinn bit out suddenly. "I hate him." She handed the washcloth to Rachel and dug through her bag for more supplies, setting several items on the counter next to Santana. "Arms up, Sweetie." She pulled the ripped top from her friend winced at the angry bite mark about 3 inches above her left breast. Anger swelled up inside her so quickly that she felt her hands tremble and her vision sharpen. Fight or flight was taking over and she suddenly felt a murderous rage swell within her that she'd never felt before.

"He was waiting for me when I got home and he asked who the blonde was," she told them as Quinn began cleaning the wound on her chest. She winced as the alcohol hit the wound. "I told him to shut up and he slapped me. I think the 'fuck you' really pissed him off."

"What else?" Quinn asked. She pinned her best friend with a look and Santana knew she couldn't lie to her.

She swallowed hard. "He punched me and kicked my feet out from under me. Then h-he held me down…" The look in her eyes told the other two everything they needed to know.

"Oh God," Rachel breathed, her eyes wide and face paling. Tears welled in her eyes and she sat down next to her friend and wrapped an arm around her. "I should have called the police."

Santana shook her head, wincing again as a bandage was placed over the bite mark. "I'm leaving him anyways."

"He might be dead before you have the chance," Quinn growled.

Santana sighed heavily and glanced down at herself. "I need a shower."

"Not here," Quinn told her with a shake of her head. "Come to Rachel's."

"He won't be back," Santana tried to argue.

"I don't care," Quinn told her. "Grab what you need and let's go." Her tone left no room to argue so Santana pulled on a tee shirt and grabbed her bathrobe, a few shower necessities and some clothes before the three of them made their way next door.

"Towels are in the closet," Rachel told her softly. "Let me know if you need anything else."

"Thanks," Santana told them both before disappearing into the bathroom.

Rachel sat on the couch completely spaced out until a glass of wine appeared in her line of sight. She glanced up with a smile and accepted the wine as Quinn sat down next to her on the couch and pulled her legs up under her.

"Has this happened before?" Rachel asked softly.

Quinn shook her head. "Not to my knowledge. He's never laid a finger on her before. They fight a lot, but it's never been physical that I'm aware of."

"We should get her out of the city for a few days," Rachel suggested. "I haven't taken a single performance off in three years and as successful as you are I doubt you've missed time either."

"And go where?" Quinn asked.

"I have a little house in the Hamptons," Rachel offered with a shrug. "The papers are all signed under pseudonyms so no one would even know how to find us."

Quinn raised an eyebrow, her lips turning into a slow smile. "That sounds perfect."

"Should we invite Brittany?" Rachel wondered.

Quinn shrugged. "If San wants her there, I don't see why we shouldn't."

"Okay," Rachel agreed. "I wish I could do more for her."

Santana emerged from the bedroom, her hair still damp, wrapped in a white bathrobe and she moved slowly to the couch and dropped down between the other two. Quinn instantly slipped an arm around her and Rachel dropped a hand to her arm, her thumb tracing patterns on the shower-warmed skin absently.

"Think you can get some time off from work?" Quinn asked. She offered her glass of wine to her.

Santana frowned and sipped the wine slowly. "Do I look that bad?"

"No, honey, I'm sorry, that came out wrong," Quinn told her with a shake of her head.

Rachel shook her head. "I have a house in the Hamptons. We were thinking we could go for a few days."

The thought of being away from this apartment certainly appealed to Santana. She swallowed the anxiety that caused a lump in her throat. "I'll call my boss in the morning."

"Good," Quinn replied as she gently squeezed her friend's shoulders. "It's settled.

"Can B come?" Santana asked softly. She set the glass on the table and her gaze dropped to her fingers in her lap.

Rachel smiled. "Of course."

"You're staying with one of us until we leave," Quinn told her.

"He won't be back tonight," Santana whispered. She suddenly buried her face in her hands. "How did this happen?"

"It's going to be okay, San," Quinn told her. She leaned in and placed a kiss to her temple. "We'll be right here next to you through this whole thing."

Santana suddenly burst into tears and Quinn pulled her close, exchanging a worried glance with Rachel over the Latina's head.

They knew they were in for a rough ride ahead.

XX

A.N. Well, I can't bring myself to give you the usual 'hope you enjoyed' because that chapter was rough. I do, however, hope that this story has been as emotional to read as it has been to write because that is my goal. Sorry if this one was a bit dark but I just felt like it had to hit the lowest point before I could start moving back up. Thank you for reading and I really hope you can leave me some comments on this one.