After writing a song she titled 'Already Gone,' Rayna took a hot shower and unpacked her bags. She cleaned up the house, putting things away, vacuuming, washing dishes, and straightening things up. After it looked presentable, she walked out onto the front porch and enjoyed the fresh air. She strolled around the side and picked some colorful wildflowers. They'd be the perfect addition to the little table that was beside the front door.

Rayna found a vase in one of the kitchen cabinets to put the flowers in. She leaned her head into the flowers as she sat the vase down on the entryway table, taking a deep breath at the sweet aroma they emitted. She then pulled out the guitar her mother gave her and started playing again.

Several hours later, Rayna stood over a boiling pot of spaghetti she finally found the ingredients for. A loud noise coming from the living room startled her. She turned off the stove and ran to see what all the commotion was. Deacon had slammed the front door open and was stomping unsteadily into the house. "Deacon," she said as she saw his face. He looked angry. She made her way towards the couch.

He screamed and swung his arm across the table near the door, causing the vase to crash to the floor and send pieces of glass everywhere. A shard swept across Rayna's ankle.

"Ouch," Rayna yelled in pain. She sat down on the couch and pulled her leg up, inspecting the damage.

"Baby, I'm s-sorry," Deacon stuttered as he hobbled to the kitchen to fetch her a wet paper towel. He returned to her side and handed it to her. She applied pressure to the bleeding.

"Are you drunk?" She didn't mean to yell as loudly as she did. What was he thinking going off this morning and getting wasted, she wondered.

"It's not what it looks like," he frowned, trying to look sober.

"It's exactly what it looks like, Deacon. What in the hell were you thinkin'?" She was pissed.

"Lamar came into the bar," he started.

Rayna's mouth dropped open. She looked horrified. "What did he say?" Her voice was shaky.

"He said he knew you had come to me last night and he'd do everything in his power to make our lives miserable until you came crawling back home," Deacon replied. "There were some other phrases and names I'm not repeatin' but...it was bad, Ray. He's nowhere near forgiving." Deacon looked up at her face with clouded judgement. "He stormed off and I drank to keep from goin' after him."

"Oh, gosh," Rayna let out the breath she'd been holding. "I'm so sorry, Deacon. I can't imagine how hard it was for you to hold back." She felt sorry for him, yet hated that he'd turned to alcohol.

Deacon shook his head and gritted his teeth. "I ain't lettin' anybody talk about my girl like he did tonight. I just can't stand him, Ray."

Rayna smiled as he called her his girl. She felt as protective over him as he was over her.

Deacon looked down at her ankle. "Hang on, I'll be right back." He stumbled into the bathroom and brought back some cotton balls, rubbing alcohol, antibiotic ointment, a bandage wrap, and gauze. "Let me help you," he said as his hand covered hers over the wet paper towel and he pulled it away from her wound. He dabbed the cotton balls into the rubbing alcohol and touched it gently to the cut.

"Ahh," she hissed, fighting the urge to pull her leg back. It burned when it made contact. He tightened his grip on her.

"I'm sorry, baby," he said, trying to keep his hands steady. He went to work on her ankle, tenderly cleaning and wrapping it. He kissed the bandaged ankle and gently set it back on the floor.

Rayna looked into his eyes. "Deacon, why didn't you just come home?"

"I knew if I left that place sober, Ray, I was headed to your house to beat his skull in." Deacon was ashamed he'd hurt her but knew she'd already lost one parent and couldn't handle losing two. He did what he thought was right at the time.

Rayna just nodded. She knew there was no arguing with him when he was drunk. "Well I made some spaghetti to surprise you tonight. I was hoping we could have a nice dinner when you got back." The disappointment in her voice was evident but he didn't pick up on it.

"I appreciate it but I'm gonna pass, baby. I just wanna go lay down." He stood up and made his way to his room, shutting the door behind him.

Rayna felt so alone in that moment. She'd worked so hard to impress him with a clean house, fresh flowers, and an edible meal tonight. Lord knows she's not the best chef in the world but she could make a mean spaghetti. He didn't even acknowledge any of it, too caught up in his drunken rage. She pulled her knees up to her chest and cried softly.

Deacon was miserable. It was after 2am and he'd just finished his third trip to the bathroom to empty any remaining contents of his stomach. It was so easy to forget the consequences of his actions when he was drinking his pain away. He heaved over the toilet a few more times before making his way back to the living room. He turned on the little lamp on the table. Rayna was nowhere to be seen. He walked to the guest room door and slowly turned the handle, peeking inside. She was fast asleep curled on her side, blissfully unaware of his misery. He closed the door back and sat down on the sofa, thinking of how much he'd hurt her.

He heard a woman clearing her throat behind him. He looked over to see a beautiful redhead dressed in a red skirt suit with pearls around her neck standing in the archway of the kitchen. There was a white glow around her. "If you ever hurt my baby girl again," the lady warned, "I'll make sure you spend eternity without her."

"Virginia," Deacon called. It was Rayna's deceased mother. "What are you doing here?" He was a little freaked out.

"My daughter spent the day cleaning your house and trying to thank you for your generosity, and then for you to come home like you did last night...She worked her ass off in that kitchen and even picked flowers to make the place smell better. You didn't have the decency to notice any of it. Instead, you smashed the flowers and hurt her physically and emotionally in the process. Do you know she stayed up most of the night sobbing right where you're sitting? And to think I told her to come here," Virginia snapped, exasperated by Deacon's carelessness and lack of responsibility.

Her words hit Deacon like a brick wall. He hadn't realized Rayna had gone to so much trouble last night. She was still hurting from being abandoned by her father, and now she was having to add his actions from poor judgement on top of it. "I'm real sorry, ma'am," Deacon said, feeling so ashamed that he couldn't make eye contact with her. "The last thing I ever want to do is cause any hurt to your daughter. She's the light of my life." He felt true remorse. "Hell, she is my life. I just couldn't stand what Lamar said about her."

Virginia watched him with a cross look on her face. "Then straighten up your life and start putting her feelings first," she responded. "I know Lamar can be a lot to handle but you're not helping matters by hitting the bottle and then coming home and scaring her. She needed you yesterday and you left."

"I was tryin' to get us some work," he argued.

"Oh, stop lying to yourself. You stayed much later than you needed and should've been home long before Lamar ever walked in. Now I'm done arguing with you. Treat my daughter well or I will make sure you never get a chance to see her again," Virginia threatened.

"I will," he promised. He looked up at her with sorrow in his eyes.

"Good, because she loves you. You are her entire world. Don't you ever forget that."

Virginia smiled at him and disappeared as quickly as she'd arrived.