I'm not sure if the previous chapter uploaded right, the site was acting weird last night when I tried to upload it :S Please let me know if it did or not! Anyway, this is chapter 21, enjoy! :D

I woke to the light leaking through the blinds of Martha's window. I released a moan, squeezing my eyes shut and pulling the covers over my head, wanting nothing more than to fall back into my slumber. I could feel the warmth of Martha's body radiating onto mine, her sleeping breaths soft and sounding far away. It occurred to me that it was a Sunday, Martha's day off. Oh, I had always hated Sundays. The eve of a new week and the ending of the previous. I didn't know what it was about Sundays I didn't like, maybe it was the fact I had school the following day.

I groaned in an aching pain, shots of fire running up and down my body and reminding me of how damaged I was. I puffed out a sigh. Maybe I would be able to slack off from school, for I really wasn't up to being on my feet all day. Martha stirred beside me, murmuring softly in her sleep. Giving up I pulled myself into a sitting position, rubbing my fists in my eyes. And then the previous night came back to me in a breath taking rush, and a part of me thought it was all a dream. I let the smile take over my face for a moment, but it immediately vanished when I heard the pounding on the front door.

"What on earth?" Martha bolted up, blinking away the sleep and grogginess in her eyes. The fists out in the hall were loud and demanding, causing my heart to beat erratically in my chest. I held my breath, along with Martha, as we waiting for them to stop. Panic was rising in my throat, for I knew who would be behind that door.

The banging continued for a good five minutes, and I finally lost my temper. I leapt from the bed and marched out of the room, Martha hissing for me to come back. I strode to the door, levelling my eye with the peep hole. Sure enough, Rick stood on the other side. Grinding my teeth and grabbed a notepad from the counter, scribbling down words of insult. I slipped it under the door, and for a moment, the pounding stopped. And then it doubled.

"Open the damn door!" Rick bellowed. Martha appeared in the doorway, her hand over her mouth.

"Go to hell!" I screamed.

"Martha! Open the door!" he hollered, and I pointed a finger at Martha.

"Don't you dare." I said lowly. She came over to me, grasping my shoulders gently and pulling me away from the door as if it might collapse. I could feel the strain in her body, heard the ragged sounds of her breath, and the fright in her face was inevitable. We backed up to the sofa, waiting for him to give up and leave. When it became clear that he would, I had an idea.

"The fire escape." I whispered. She looked at me, confusion written on her face. I shrugged. Then she went into her room and changed, and I followed suit. I peeled out of my clothes and put on some fresh jeans and a t-shirt, grabbing a clean hoody from my wardrobe. Once I was ready, and the banging became more urgent, Martha and I climbed out of my window and onto the fire escape, pushing down the window behind us. We fled into the city, mingling into the people that flooded the streets. It was at this point that I decided to let Martha in on Rick's little secret.

We ended up in a nearby coffee shop, Martha having just enough money to get us a cup of coffee each. We sat at the very back of the café and away from any listening bystanders, sitting opposite one another at the stable. I stared at her for a while, waiting for her to get a grip of herself. She kept coiling a lock of golden hair around her finger, her eyes constantly darting to the door and back to me. Finally, I lost my patience, snapping my fingers in front of her face.

"He doesn't know we left." I told her, looking at her over the brim of my mug.

"He'll figure it out." She said, biting her lip. I merely smiled, a grim gesture.

"He's not that bright."

We sat in silence for a moment, Martha finally settling down in her stool. I watched her with a cool gaze, and it didn't take her long to feel unnerved.

"What?" she asked quietly.

"Do you still love him?" I asked, my tone low. I needed to know if that was the case, or if she ever loved him at all. She ran her fingers through her hair, sighing and looking defeated.

"No, at least, I don't think I do."

"Don't think? How does that make sense?"

"I was going to marry him, Claudia, you can't just shake feeling like that away." She snapped, but she was more annoyed at herself. I swallowed, dropping my head into my hands. Sighing, I decided to tell her something she wasn't going to like. It's now or never.

"On Friday night, I remember one thing before I got turned into a punching bag." I said. Her eyes snapped up to mine, her face becoming suddenly on high alert. Her body leaned in, not wanting to miss a word I had to say. "I went for a walk, while you were at work. I couldn't take it anymore in the apartment. It was fine until I saw someone in an alley way, completely smashed out of his head. He could barely walk, he kept throwing up, and curiosity got the better of me because I recognised him." Her eyes bulged, making sense of my words.

"It wasn't-"

"I can assure you it was. Rick was drowning in alcohol, surprise, surprise. I followed him because he looked like he was up to no good. He walked for a long time, in the back alleys where even I couldn't make sense of where I was. It was when he stopped at a warehouse that things got bad."

"He was talking to these men. They kept calling him 'Boss', and demanding if he had 'the cash'." I paused, swallowing. "And then he brought us into the conversation." She froze in her seat, swallowing back the coffee she had been sipping rather harshly. Disbelief crossed her features, and I couldn't help but notice how her hands clenched into fists. "He said things about you being on my side, that you two hadn't made up because of me. And then one of the guys said 'Wouldn't it be easier to kill her.' He meant you."

Martha choked on her drink, holding her hands to her mouth as she tried to regain control. Guilt swallowed me whole, but I knew that I had had to tell her. It would be much easier to keep her safe if she actually knew. As much as I had resented her for the last six months, she was the only family I had left. I had to keep her safe; otherwise I knew I would never be able to live with myself in the aftermath she I have lost her. Even Peter Parker wouldn't be able to save me.

"No, you must have gotten this all wrong. You hit your head pretty hard that night…"

"I know what I heard." I said through gritted teeth. "Trust me on that."

"No, no… Rick is many things but…"

"How well do you really know him?" I demanded, frowning at her. "Was he always violent? Did he always have a short temper?"

"No… he was a very sweet man when I first met him, always being the gentleman."

"He defiantly wasn't the gentleman the other night. After that conversation, I wanted to get out of there, but one of his 'mates' knocked me down before I could."

"This can't be true, he must have just gotten in with the wrong crowd…"

"Stop giving him excuses!" I tried to control the volume of my voice, but she was making it very difficult. "He's dangerous. If he can have the willpower to hit me, a girl who is barely in adulthood, who knows what he's capable of."

She ran her hands down her face, her body suddenly trembling. I felt sorry for her, for I knew that this was a lot to take in. I had never liked Rick, never trusted him. When he first entered Martha's life, I always thought he was too perfect, and instinct told me to keep my distance from him which I did gladly. There was something about him that had always seemed… off. Like the deceiving look of a spoilt child. My gut had been right many times in the past, and even though I barely knew him, I wasn't about to turn my back on instincts any time soon. Apparently, it had been a good decision. If only Martha had been less naive and had seen what was really there.

She stayed silent for a long time. My body began to grind in pain, but luckily I had brought some of my antibiotics with me. I pulled out a few coins from my pocket that had been in there for a long time, and I got up to get some water from the counter. I sat back down and took two capsules, watching Martha carefully. She stared blankly at her now empty mug, her hands in her hair. But then she finally spoke.

"I'm such an idiot." She said, her voice thick. "I should have left him the very first time he laid a hand on you. I shouldn't have rushed into things with him. I loved him, yes, but I'm not sure I wanted to marry him. He asked me out of the blue, just before I moved in with him. I said yes out of impulse. He just seemed so perfect." She said all this with an absent mine, not really talking to me anymore. She just kept travelling back, back when everything had been wonderful. Back when she wanted nothing but the perfect life.

"Perfect until I came along." I said, my voice dark.

"I'm glad you did, don't forget that. Come on, we need to go to the police." She got up, but I made no effort to move. "Come on."

"What are they going to do?" I said flatly.

"Arrest him maybe?"

"It's his word against mine. I couldn't even see the faces of the guys who beat the crap out of me. I can't even remember where the warehouse is."

"We can't just sit around and do nothing."

"I know, but we don't even know what he's up to." I pointed out. "It's useless. The police will just wave him off as a troubled drunk and nothing more."

"We don't know that until we try." She snagged my hand and pulled me to my feet, determined to do what she thought was right. She may have been keeping a straight face, but I could feel the fear buzzing through her body. Guilt taking over, I let her lead me out of the café, wanting to see if I could give her some closure by doing what she wanted.

But, in the long run, the police wouldn't be able to do anything without the names of the perpetrators or an eye witness.

An eye witness…

Gwen!

"If we're going to the police, we need to get Gwen to come with us." I said hurriedly. Gwen, she had been there, she had seen their faces. I was pretty sure that they were still of the loose, Peter merely stopping them from punching my brains in. Gwen may have been able to help us. We needed her help.

"Gwen?"

"Gwen Stacy, the girl who brought me home. She was there while I was getting beaten, maybe she saw them." I knew she had seen them, but Martha was only aware of Gwen finding me, not when or how. I didn't even know how she had found me, which I was now determined to find out.

"I have her number in my cell." Martha said, now completely agreeing. She pulled out her phone and searched for her number, and the she handed it to me. It rang three times before she answered.

"Hello?" her voice was polite, sounding lighter than a feather.

"Blondie! Meet me and my sister at the police station, we need your help."

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