The call comes in the middle of the night. The moon and my phone are the only sources of light in my dank, dark room. The sound startles me but doesn't wake me. Of course not. It's not like I can sleep anyway, not like I've rested even for a second while she's been gone.

I answer immediately, so hastily that it takes two tries to slide my finger across the screen.

"Kylo!" I pick up on the relief, but it doesn't compare at all to the relief I feel.

"Rey," I breathe out. It's the first honest breath I've taken in what feels like an infinite lifetime. Just like that, the cavernous hole inside of me has been filled and repaved, replaced will an iron protectiveness.

"Kylo, I need you to come get me." Her voice is thick and crackly, and I wonder if it's the connection. "Now." Panic floods through me at her tone, an icy burn prickles at the back of my neck.

I'm on my feet right away, navigating through my tiny apartment with haste. I tuck my phone between my ear and shoulder, and grab my leather jacket, sliding my long arms through the sleeves in a hurry. "Of course, where are you?"

"The gas station a few blocks from my house. The Chevron. But, Ren, hurry!" The use of my surname, so close to my true first name, sends uninvited shivers down my spine. Rey's about the only person that could use that name and not make me cringe.

One command from Rey, and I resurface to find my place in the world. The girl's hold on me is greater than I could ever imagine, and I could not feel more relieved that she is here to use me again. However she needs me, I will be that.

"You have one minute left on this call." Relief does not last long. Fucking hell.

"Yes, Rey, I'm already in the car," I rush out. "Just stay there, I'll be there in no time. I promise." My engine sputters before roaring to life and I back out of my driveway with the determination of a stunt driver. For the first time I wish I had chosen a fast car with good handling, not this used piece of shit. But I never want to resemble my father in the slightest who favors his car so much he spends time with 'her' each day. "Hold on, Rey."

"Kylo, I-" and the line goes dead. I slam my foot on the gas pedal, seeing red but not caring. Nothing will stop me from getting to her. No chance in hell, even if it's where I am headed.

Thankfully it's late and there is minimal traffic to weave through. It comes as a surprise to me, but I am suddenly thankful for my father's insistence on going to the racetracks with him. His love for speed and cars is paying off for once.

The city lights fly by, their orange glow flashing with each lamp. I'm at the Chevron in record time, thanking whatever higher being that there was a payphone at the gas station.

This antiquated town. Of fucking course.

She's there, curled into a ball, hugging herself and shivering. The phone is hanging off the cord, swinging in the chilly breeze.

She's there.

First, it's sweet relief at just the sight of her. Goddamn is it good to see her.

Next, it's unrelenting fury.

She's bleeding from a busted lip and there's no other way to put it but she's dressed like a cheap whore, all made up and barely covered in skimpy clothing.

The makeup smattered on her face is unbecoming of her gorgeous, youthful features. It's dark, too red, and running. In fact, her face is smudged with… ash? One fake eyelash has clearly fallen off long ago, and what the fuck. The purple above her left eye is no eyeshadow, as it's clearly beginning to yellow. An older injury apparently.

The red I was seeing turns to dripping crimson, and I grit my teeth clutching the steering wheel as hard as possible to focus. She needs me now, not one of my classic raging sessions where I break everything in sight.

She's wearing fishnets under what could only be called booty shorts, bedazzled with metal rings and rhinestones, and a tight white corset, decorated with bows. How she can even breathe is beyond me because her waist is squeezed so thin, it's only slightly wider than her face.

She runs to the passenger car door, flings it open and hops in with a wild expression on her face. My nose scrunches involuntarily at the scent of smoke and burnt rubber.

"Drive." Like before, her voice is a hex on my being and I am immediately swinging out of the parking lot and onto the road. Her usually soothing voice comes out like magma that's drying- crackling, rough, and thick.

I love this girl with all my being, I am sure of it now, as I am sure that my being was reduced to nothingness as soon as she was no longer in my life. But she has a knack for hiding things from me and that is no longer acceptable.

I look over at her. She's pressing her fingers against the heating vents, taking as much of the engine's heat as she can for herself. My poor girl is frozen and beat.

Someone is going to pay dearly.

"Rey, what happened?" My voice comes out rougher than I want. I don't mean to startle her but I do. Of fucking course, Kylo, she's just been through one hell of an ordeal. Keep it together.

She sighs loudly and runs her hand through her hair. "Just drive for now."

"Rey-"

"Take me home. Please, Kylo." She faces me and her expression alone does me in. She's pouting and her eyes are deep, searching mine.

"Of course. Let's get you home and safe."

"Do you have something I can eat?"

I sigh and shake my head. Patience, Kylo, patience. I'll give her a while to recover, then press for answers. I must.

"I think I could go for fries and a shake." She hacks up something from deep within, groaning loudly after. "Something to drink," she croaks.

I hesitate for a moment but decide to reach for the glove compartment where I have as of late made the home of my grandfather's flask. Drinking and driving has been a must to get through the days without my Rey.

She snatches the flask and pops the cap open with familiarity. The swig she takes leaves her sputtering more. "Sorry, Rey, it's all I have."

I watch her close her eyes and tilt her chin up. "No, it's good. I need the burn. Besides, I could really use a drink," she says all too wryly, as if it is meant to comfort me at all. It doesn't.

I take her through the drive through of Steak and Shake, ordering her a full meal with a burger too so she at least gets some protein. My appetite seemed to return as soon as Rey returned because my stomach growls and mouth waters at the smell of Rey's meal, but I need to focus on driving instead of my stomach.

The ride to my house is quick. She spends the whole car ride scarfing down the meal like it's her first in a while. I'm sure it is. I understand completely.

At home, Rey wanders around my living room with wonder, taking in all the artwork messily attached to the wall, as well as the piles upon piles of sketches and canvas.

I've given her enough time and now it's the hour for answers. "Rey. What happened?"

We are in my room and she's staring at a picture of my old dog, Chewie. It's the only family picture I keep in my home. The rest is simply artwork, my own and those of others.

She heaves another heavy sigh before setting the frame down and facing me finally. "Plutt." She turns around and heads into the master bathroom, the reason I chose this place to live. The only requirements were ample wall space and a large clawfoot bathtub.

"You draw me a bath, I'll talk," she orders with that cutting voice that I will always obey. Sounds fair enough to me, so I do as she bids.

"I don't even know where to start." She sounds upset and my resolve to make her talk waivers briefly, but I won't allow myself to relent.

"Start with Plutt." She gives me a look and I find myself asking again. "Please, tell me about Plutt. Is he your father?" I know for sure he is not as I've looked at her records, but I get the sense that Rey would be pissed if she knew I did that. The thought almost makes me laugh. We are way past that, at this point.

"God, no. No. I don't know my parents. Probably dead. As long as I can remember, I have been under Plutt's care." She does air quotes for the last part. "He's a pimp. Basically. But his clientele… their preferences...they prefer girls younger than me. Commanding them. To sit on things or… inflict pain. That… that was me." She peers at me shyly, and I simply nod, not sure how else to response. Because what?

She continues. "I was made to serve as a dominatrix but when I got too old, people didn't want me anymore. But I was good. Really good." I swallow hard, things finally falling into place. "And so I cut a deal with Plutt. I promised to take over Maz's job when she was retired, and in the meantime I could go to school finally. Finally, finally, focus on me instead of work. My artwork took off. And no one could ever touch me again." Her eyes are gleaming and seeing something far off. "But, then Maz died the night of my birthday."

"Maz?" It couldn't be...

"Yeah, Maz. She taught me everything I know. She watched out for me, protected me from Plutt, from clients that got out of hand. Opium nut, but a good woman. She OD'ed, supposedly, and just like that all the responsibilities fell on me. But Plutt didn't keep his end of the bargain. He made me take care of the girls, train them, but he didn't treat me like Maz. Didn't treat me how she would've wanted. One girl disappoints a client and the punishment fell on me." Her voice is growing thicker and thicker, climbing pitch. She allows herself one tear before running the back of her hand over her eyes and breathing deeply. My gaze follows the tear that trails down her face and meets the dried blood on her swollen peach lips.

"You had every right to run, Rey."

Anger flashes through her eyes, something dangerous that I've never seen on Rey's face before. "I did not run," she spits. "I was smoked out. I don't know who, that jackass Plutt or one of his lackeys, maybe even one of the clients set one of the chambers on fire-"

"-What?"

"It was my chance to get out."

Something in her tone tells me to back off that subject quickly. I remain silent, and with that, Rey starts slipping off her shorts and quite literally tears her fishnets off. She turns around and pulls her hair to the side. "Untie this thing." I do so, relishing the moment, finding any excuse to lightly brush my fingers over her upper back. The satisfaction is quickly replaced with horror.

Down her spine are hundreds of cigarette burns, uniformly arranged in three straight lines of dots. Each burn left a mound of pink flesh, endless hills down her essence.

I calmly trace soothing figure eights around the burn marks, a stark contrast to the storm brewing within.

"I hope he burned," I mutter into her ear, softly, and take much pleasure in the shiver it elicits. Her breath hitches and she stills. There's a devilish twinkle in Rey's eyes. I live for it, the fire that threatens to burn down the forest that is her gaze.

In a flash, Rey rounds on me and just like that she is in my arms, her long legs wrapped around my waist, face buried into my neck. I feel her bite down. Hard. I grit my teeth, willing to take the pain if she is willing to deal it.

"I love you, Rey." She whimpers a response and it's weakest she ever sounded. The vibrations go straight to my groin. "It's okay Rey, baby, I will always be here."

This is right where she belongs and I feel that truth instantly.

She still smells of smoke but finally being this close, feeling her warmth, I find Rey has an earthy scent, like cut grass and daisies. Her skin is softer than it looks, an impossibility, or so I thought.

Her head snaps back and once again I am just leveled by her eyes alone. They're mesmerizing, constantly teetering the line between green and brown, driving me mad.

"Hold me" she utters calmly as if this wasn't the best fucking moment of my life. Her head falls back onto my shoulder and I gently carry her back to my bedroom. In an effort to get us both under the covers and comfortable, I shift her weight onto my right hip and pull up the sheets and comforter.

I lower Rey into the bed. A small moan escapes her lips when I let her go, but I quickly shuffle in after her, capturing her in my comforting arms. Exhaustion paints each of Rey's features and I know my poor girl needs rest.

She crawls on top of me, laying on her stomach and once again shoving her face into the crook of my neck. Rey melts into me, and I realize just how small she is compared to her grand spirit. The happy sigh she lets out pulls one of the few genuine smiles of my recent years. Of my life.

The importance of the life resting in my arms is beyond anything imaginable. I cannot return to living my life without her. It wouldn't be living.

Above all, I must protect this girl.

"We are linked now," I whisper but I know my girl is sleeping soundly.

I need more answers, and I fall asleep planning exactly how I can get them.