Author's Note:

Anyway, I thought one day was excusable; this one is much longer than the last update. BUT be warned this is very angst-filled, it's almost painful, but it's worth it.

There aren't any lemons in this one, but the next one will be very tart ;) xo

Once I had regained brain function, the shock and fear in her eyes were clear, I did that to her. Without a word she bolted leaving me dumbfounded, I fucked that one up. What were we even arguing about? I just remember feeling like I had already lost her… fuck. I think I need anger management.

I followed her to one of the guest bedrooms' bathroom, but of course, she locked it. She doesn't want to be around some psycho.

I tried apologizing through the door, but all I could hear were her light sobs. Fuck, I'm a grade-A asshole. I ran my hands through my hair and paced quietly outside, I don't know how to fix this. I know I don't want to push her, but I need to explain why I showed my anger in such a violent way in front of her. It wasn't towards her, but that doesn't matter if she doesn't believe that. Eventually, once I had gathered my courage I grabbed the master key that opened all the doors and warned her I was about to come in. Still nothing.

Once the door was open she flinched slightly from my presence, fuck, I'm the biggest douchebag in the world. Despite her tear-stained face, she was still stunning. When I gathered my wits I decided to sit in front of the tub, so we were face to face. She looked so small inside the large sunken bath. I didn't dare move closer to her, but when she finally looked up at me her eyes were silently communicating that it was okay. I wanted to scoop her up and hold her, but I know that I couldn't be abrupt with her when she's feeling this uneasy. I opted to sit down beside the tub, and when I went to move she didn't flinch, so I took this as an open invitation to sit next to her.

"Let's get you out of here," I ask. She only nods, so I took that as an okay to pick her up. She was completely stiff and felt like marble in my arms.

"I'm sorry," I say quietly once I laid her down on the bed. I don't even know where to go from here, I wish I could rewind the last half hour. How the fuck did we get here? I run my hands over my face.

"I'm sorry," she whispers, laying on her side and tucking her legs into her chest.

"Baby, you don't have to apologize," I replied, I don't want her to shut down any further.

"It was my fault," she murmured.

"It's okay," I say softly, "you don't have to explain."

"I just didn't want you to be mad at me," she whimpers. What the hell? Me mad at her.

"I wasn't mad-"

She trembles at my words.

Fuck, how do I fix this? She thinks it's her fault that I lost my shit. "Ana, I wasn't mad at you… I was frustrated, it was never you."

"Yes, it was, it's my fault," she replied robotically.

"Stop it, this was not anyone's fault, but my own. It was never directed at you, you know that I would never hurt you, right?" She doesn't say anything. I was stunned. She thought I was capable of that.

I stood up. My mind was racing, I backed away and headed out the door. I gave her one look back, her face was broken, but I was still stunned. What the hell just happened?

I ended up in my office, grabbing the bottle of whisky before sitting at my desk. Gulping it down like it was water. She's afraid of me. I ran my hands through my face and hair, what the hell am I going to do now? The woman I want to marry and claim as mine is afraid of me? You are a sick fuck. You were built for this life, groomed to kill. I wasn't meant to love and be loved by someone who wasn't in my family.

Anger filled me as I downed the bottle.

Fury.

Hate… Self-loathing.

If I wasn't a fucking killer, I could give Ana the normalcy she deserved. She deserves to be happy; she didn't have that growing up and I obviously can't fucking do that for her.

I don't deserve her.

Thinking about another man with her made my skin crawl and my blood boil. The alcohol and the rage took over, and I blacked out.

xx

I shook my head trying to place the last few hours. Ana. I look at my surroundings. I was still in my office, but everything was totalled.

Nothing survived.

Luckily no important documents were within reach, because those would have been gone. Books were shredded; my computer had a hole in the middle of the screen; my large rosewood desk was toppled over… shit that thing is heavy as fuck. I did all of this?

No wonder she was fucking scared of me. This is what I fucking do: fuck up my shit. At least I locked my door, no one could get in and I couldn't get out. I'm an animal. I need to get Ana out of here; she isn't safe here with me.

I went to pick up the phone on my desk, but that was fucked up too. Shit. I patted my pants down to find my phone, but I soon found it on the floor near the window. Broken. Fuck did I do? I'm a monster.

This is who I am. I need to call my dad and have Ana taken there; I can't face her.

My anger grew even more; I'm a fucking despicable person.

A pit in my stomach grew and the realization that I lost her had hit me. My actions sealed my fate.

I stood up, my feet were wobbly and my hands were a bloody mess, cut up and bruised.

When I finally unlocked the door, I stepped out into the large hallway only to be met by silence. I bee-lined to our… err my room. The pit grew larger.

When I entered the room, Ana's lone bag was on the bed filled with one extra outfit, she was leaving me. I felt sick, I ruined us before we could be anything. I love this woman and I had one shot to have my happy ending, but I should know that shit doesn't exist. Only for my parents, but they were the lucky ones. I headed for the washroom, when I heard the shower, she must be in there.

I stepped into the room, but she hadn't heard me come in. Hey, I was going to hell anyway, why not add voyeur to the list?

Her back was to me and I could hear her faint cries, but what alerted me were the light scars on her back. They were so faint that I hadn't noticed them the other night, but they were there. The heat of the water turned them into angry red lines. She moved her hair slightly and I saw a two-inch scar on the back of her ear, how did she get that?

How did I not notice them?

I quickly closed the door and headed out of the room, but I need to clean my cuts. Opting to get the first aid kit from under the sink, I quickly headed in that direction, when the shower stopped running and I heard the door open. I quickly turned around to face her; her beautiful face was filled with shock and embarrassment. She quickly hid her body away from my view.

"I'm sorry," I say to her, turning around so she could get her towel, "I just wanted the first aid kit." She didn't need to know that I was a peeping tom. God, I'm a sick fuck.

"It's okay," she said so quietly that I almost didn't even believe that I had heard it.

"I'm going to go, I'm sorry for walking in on you."

"It's your bathroom," she shrugs.

"You're leaving?" I asked abruptly.

"Why do you need the first aid kit?" she asked, completely ignoring my question.

"Accidentally cut myself," I answer truthfully, showing her my hands.

"Here, let me help," she came up to me. She was so close. Her eyes were red and swollen, she had been crying for maybe as long as I've been ruining my office.

"It's okay," I say stepping away from her; the closeness was too much. She was too heady.

"Let me see," she said, ignoring me completely. She grabbed my hands, noticing the cuts and the now swelling knuckles. "Why did you do this?" she said, mostly to herself. And I don't think she meant just the cuts, probably referring to how I had flushed our relationship down the drain too.

I'm an asshole.

"Where's your kit?" she asked, I pointed to the third bottom drawer. She quickly tucked her towel firmly around her and reached for the box, pulling it, and directing me to sit on the counter so she could look at my hands.

When she took my right hand first, she grimaced and then sadness filled her eyes. She took the antiseptic out and began gently dabbing my hand clean, she was so focused on the task that she didn't say another word. She didn't chastise me for my reckless act. No wonder she wants to fucking leave your stupid ass because you are a violent asshole.

Once she was done with both hands she quickly bandaged it. She was meticulous and rather comfortable with the entire undertaking. Like she had done it before.

"You're good at that," I said in a whisper afraid that I was ruining our silence.

She minutely shrugs and then turns around, "I'll go grab you some ice, try to keep it clean."

So, she is leaving, she won't be here to do them again. Dumb prick, of course, she's leaving.

"Anastasia, I'm so sorry."

She nods at me and walks away, eventually exiting the room. I follow her out.

"Can you please stay with my parents?" I ask, "I don't want you to stay at a hotel unprotected, let me have someone drive you. Please?"

She looks at me, the light in her eyes that she used to have was gone. She simply nods and returns to her clothes.

"How about you stay here and I stay at my parents? At least I know you'll be safe," I plead.

"No, this is your home."

"No, it's not…" I retort because you're my home.

"I'll be fine at your parents," she replies coldly.

"Please stay," I beg, "please."

She shakes her head at me; I wrap my arms around her imploring her with my eyes to stay. I'm a selfish prick, I want her to stay despite my clear instability.

She looks so small in my arms, I still felt the same protectiveness over her, maybe even more since I had to let her go. She tilted her head to the side slightly, giving me a clear view of her scar. I traced my finger there, which made her freeze on spot. She tensed and quickly ran from my loose hold on her.

"Ana?" I asked perplexed.

"Don't touch me there," she said quietly, and then quickly put her shoes on and closed the bag on the bed.

"Why do you have that scar?" I asked.

"Doesn't matter," she mutters.

"And those on your back?"

"My past," she said vaguely.

She placed the bag over her shoulder and began walking out of the room and out of my life.

"Where are you going?" I ask, running after her.

"Not sure," she shrugs already halfway to the elevators.

"NO!" I shouted, "You're staying here and I'll go."

"I will not run you out of your own house."

"Well, you're not going out there without someone guarding you."

"I won't let you leave your own house," she whispers. I grab her arm and turn her around so she was facing me.

"Stay, I'll leave," I said firmly.

We silently have a battle, but she finally nods and drops her bag.

"Thank you," I exhale deeply. "Let me get a change of clothes."

"I can't allow you to abandon your house because of me, you should stay."

"Will you be okay with that?" I ask.

She nods, "I'll stay in the guestroom." Finally, she acquiesces.

xx

I asked Ana if she wanted dinner, but she declined and stayed in her room. I called my father and told him that Ana will be leaving in two weeks instead of staying in the city. He had asked questions that I wasn't in the mood to answer so I changed the subject each time. He finally came to terms that he would not be getting any further information. I'm going to deal with my office tomorrow; I didn't want another reminder of how I lost Ana.

My brain kept me awake, my bed just isn't the same without her. I held her pillow to my nose and immediately got hard. I'm a sick fuck.

I turned my light on and cracked open a book, but when I finally got into it I could hear screams and loud thrashing.

Jolting out of bed, I grab my eagle and ran to Ana's room, but what I saw was not what I expected. There in the bed was my Ana, thrashing. Her hand was bleeding; she must have knocked over the lamp on the side bed. She was yelling for something to stop, begging and whimpering.

She was having a nightmare.

I've never witnessed her going through this; she always seemed to sleep so peacefully.

"Please, I'm sorry … daddy," she cries. Daddy? What the fuck.

I placed my gun on a nearby table as to not shock her.

"Ana," I reply softly, "wake up, it's a dream." She continued to struggle and damn this girl was strong. I latched on and steadied her movements, "Ana, it's only a dream." I tucked her into my body as I rubbed her back when she finally opened her eyes, relief washed over her face and she fell limp in my hold.

She buried her face into my chest and began to sob, "Christian, he was here…"

"Who was here?" I ask panicked.

"Him…"

"Daddy?"

She simply nods and sobs uncontrollably. Her father did this to her.

"Baby, I have to clean up your cut okay?" I try to stand up, but she tightens her hold on me.

"Stay," she whimpered, digging her nails into my arms.

"I have to clean up your cut, you're bleeding."

"Don't leave," she cries out again.

"Okay, okay," I try to soothe her, "let me carry you into my bathroom and clean you up."

She nods. Vincent is going to fucking die. I will fucking blow his brains out. He did this. I held her tightly as she clung to me.

That sick fuck will die painfully after I'm through with him he will be begging me to kill him.

I tried to breathe and keep myself calm.

Once we reached my bathroom, I sat her up in the same place I had been earlier. I meticulously cleaned her cut, just as she did mine, luckily she didn't need stitches.

"What was your nightmare about?" I ask. She shakes her head, "Please tell me."

She considers this for a moment, "One of my mother's exes."

I furrowed my eyebrows, "Vincent?"

She shakes her head, no. Oh, thank fuck.

"One of my many stepfathers," she replies quietly.

"Can you tell me about it?" I prod her on, I don't want to push her, but I needed to know who did this to her and where his current whereabouts are.

But before I could get another word in her stomach grumbles, which makes me laugh.

"Let's get you some food," I hold my hand out to her and this time she takes it without any hesitation.

I heat the meal I had saved for her, spaghetti Bolognese. We sat on the stools at the breakfast bar as she quietly ate.

"Ana, I am so sorry about this afternoon."

"Don't be," she looks me straight into my eyes.

"No, I am, I frightened you and with good reason."

"NO!" she exclaimed, "It wasn't all your fault."

What? I was floored.

"But, you hid in the bathroom and all of this."

She shakes her head at me, "It wasn't you, I mean not all of you..." she trails off. Nad shakes her head. "Why did you do that?"

Oh, so she's trying to change the subject. "I just lost my mind, Ana. When I thought I lost you? I couldn't handle it."

"Tell me," I motion to her ear.

She bit her bottom lip nervously, "When you punched the wall, I had flashes of things that happened in my past. That was it. It just brought me back there, but I knew that you would never lay a finger on me."

I exhaled deeply. If I hadn't jumped to conclusions we wouldn't be having this conversation. I'm an idiot.

"Why were you leaving?" I ask.

"I didn't think you wanted me to stay," she states simply.

"Whatever gave you that idea?"

"You walked away and locked yourself away from me if you hadn't come out when you did I would have been long gone. I'm a runner, it's what I know."

I nod my head in understanding; the rest of the meal was spent in silence. I don't know how to feel, I don't completely understand why she freaked out like that, but did I understand why I did?

I completely lost my control, I know she doesn't want to admit it, but I know I frightened her. And that was unforgivable.

I didn't deserve her.

I placed her dirty dish in the washer and grabbed a bottle of wine with two glasses. I led her silently back to my room, she is not sleeping alone tonight.

I uncorked the bottle and poured us a glass, as we settled in bed.

"Are those scars from him?" I asked her.

"Yes."

"Who was he?"

"Louis Callahan."

Her mother did get around apparently, I need to locate Louis and dispose of him.

"Can you tell me what happened?" I ask.

She breathes in deeply, then exhales, "You don't want to know."

"I do, baby," I prod, pulling her into me.

"I was twelve, they had just started dating and for a while, he seemed alright. He was nice, brought me gifts and always took me out. Then a few months later things started getting weird… the timeframe is a little bit fuzzy…" she shakes her head. "It started small, reprimanding me about little things, but soon he started hitting me. Slaps with his hand, then his belt, and finally with this flogger and other things. He wouldn't do it when my mother was around.

"But ironically, this was the only time in my life my mother spent an extended amount of time with me," she laughed humourlessly. "He would always make me call him daddy, but it was always in secret. The abuse kept happening, he had frightened me to submission. He told me that if I breathed a word that he would kill me and then my nanny," she shudders. "I hated him and hated what I was letting happen to me, but I couldn't stop it. I just let it continue. Soon he revelled in marking me-"

"Did he touch you?" I ask panicked.

"No, fortunately."

I sigh in relief.

"He just thoroughly loved physically abusing me, but I soon found out why. My mother would never let him do that, so he would go hit me and then fuck her." I tensed and held her tightly.

"Baby, I'm so sorry," I whispered into her hair, she looked up at me and smiled. "What happened to him?"

"I don't know, they just got divorced one day and that was it," she shrugs. "Sometimes I think he'll find me one day, but honestly I don't think that he'd be looking for me. I was just convenient for him. I could have been anyone and I'm sure he's doing this to other girls right now. That's my only regret."

"I will find him," I reply quietly. I would thoroughly enjoy torturing him.

"Let me know, I'd love to end him," she laughs to herself.

We don't say anything for a long while.

"I don't know where to go from here," she murmurs.

"What do you mean?"

"We can't just go back to normal as nothing happened."

"I know," I reply.

We were quiet for a few moments, I felt like I was missing something. "Let's lay it all out and start over."

"Okay…" I agree apprehensively.

"I'll go first," she sat across from me and held my hands. "Christian, today was completely messed up and I wish I could turn back the clock, but we can't. So I propose we just move on together. I won't lie and say that I wasn't worried, but I know that you would never intentionally hurt me. It broke my heart when I felt like there was no other choice, but to leave. I asked myself why I had felt this way when I spent a good portion of my life running physically and emotionally. I never let anyone in, let alone trust them, but I let you in and I trust you with my life. There is no other man that will even come close to you." She paused, searching for something, "I think I'm falling for you. That's probably why the shock of today was so hard, all of these emotions that I couldn't pinpoint."

She was falling for me? Does that mean love?

"Yes," she answers, "Christian, I know that this so sudden, but when you know, you know, right? I asked myself if I could picture myself with you in fifty years and I could, I used to not be able to see anything past a year. But with you, it's like I get a chance at actual happiness. I know that you need to be in control and I'm willing to give you that… not completely of course," she laughed softly, "But I need to know that I can still live a semi-normal life. I will let you surround me with bodyguards because I know that will make you feel better when we're not together."

"But I thought that you didn't want that…"

"No you silly man, I didn't like that you thought of me as a responsibility."

"I don't think that…"

"You said it," she quirks an eyebrow at me. I did say that.

"I didn't mean it that way, baby," I sighed, "if it makes you feel better, I can say that I keep you safe purely for selfish reasons."

"Oh is that so?" mirth clear in her voice.

"Yup, sorry baby, but I know that world war three would erupt if anything happened to you. Anything."

"Like a hangnail?" she asked testing me.

"Yes, if someone gave it to you," I said solemnly, she giggled and punched me lightly.

"I love you, Ana."

"I love you too."

I can't believe those words would ever sound so sweet.

A/N: What do you guys think?