A/N: Submissions are in for the Carlisle Uncovered Contest. Please go leave the authors some love :)

This chapter is a little heavier than normal.

29.

"Is touching still allowed?" she asks.

Her eyes are still on me, but nowhere near my face. I don't point this out, because I think there are extenuating circumstances here. Besides, I like her eyes on my body.

"Will it help you tell your story?" I've been toying with her a bit, but right now I'm absolutely serious.

She finally looks me in the eye, blushes and nods. Alright, then. I open my arms and like a shot, she's on my lap.

This time, there's no feeling up or rubbing up or any other fun kind of touching involved. She's curled up with her head on my shoulder, clearly drawing support from my arms around her.

She speaks against the skin of my neck, her voice quiet, but clear. "He was one of the first people I was sent to, as an escort. I still don't know why… when I figured out what it was about… why didn't I just say no, turn and run?"

"Was it… did he hurt you?" I ask, 'cause I can't hold back.

She shakes her head, and I breathe again. The she speaks, and my heart clenches.

"No, he didn't… or at least, I'm not sure. I… he took me to a party of some sort. There were others… other girls like me, some younger than me, but it was not an orgy. I was always scared it'd be like that… the idea of being used like that…" She shudders. I hold her closer. "So I was always on my guard. I mean, ok, so this guy had me for the night, but I tried to be careful."

She hides her face in my neck, and I can feel the dampness of her tears. I want to comfort her, but freeze. Would my touch spook her?

She surprises me yet again, reaching out to weave her fingers with mine, where they rest on her hip. So I let my other hand stroke her soft hair, soothing her gently.

"I had only one drink that evening, I remember that much. He was pleasant enough, and I was relieved that he didn't absolutely repel me, so I dropped my guard a bit. We left the party pretty late. The next morning, though… I was bruised all over. And I couldn't remember how that happened. I got out of his hotel room fast as I could, and got myself tested for… everything under the sun, really. I was shaken up, and so, so scared. I convinced myself that whether or not anything had happened, I had to get out of there."

She looks up at me, brimful of anger and shame and fear. "A couple of days later, my mom called. Asked me if I'd grown out of being a prude yet. I ended up staying, being 'not a prude' for almost another month."

I really want to meet this mother of hers some day. Someone needs to give her a reality check, and I'm obviously the man for the job.

If I survive the daughter, of course.