A/N: Okay, so this chapter is a bit shorter, about a good 1000 or more words shorter, really.

Cherry beta'd this for me.

SM owns all things Twilight. Everything else is mine.

Chapter 3: Keep Holding On

EPOV

Fuck! That scared the shit out of me. Three minutes had passed before she finally opened her eyes. She seemed confused and I feared something else was wrong with her head, but then she asked if everything was okay. I tell her and feel relief that I don't have to call Emmett. She sits up after apologizing and looks around. I can only assume she's sorry for scaring me. I go inside to pay since I have enough cash. I don't think it's the smartest thing to do, especially with all that's there, but I'm glad I decided to leave that bag in the trunk.

I come back, telling her there's a Motel 6 nearby and that we'll check in for the morning and night. I can tell she's still tired and to be honest, so am I. I've been awake since about eight-thirty yesterday morning. Given the fact that it's now a bit past three in the morning, it's safe to say that we're both exhausted.

The ride to the motel is quiet. Bella doesn't make small talk or ask questions. She just stares out the window, watching the outside as it passes by. Finally there, I park the car close to the door. She only gives a small nod when I say I'll be right back. I walk inside and see a woman about my age at the front desk. If I had enough energy I could work this to my advantage.

"Hi! Welcome to Motel 6. How can help you?" she asks, and I wonder what shit she must be on to be so chipper this fucking early. I look at her nametag and see that her name is Stacie. Deciding I can't be a total dick, I simply ask for a room with two beds and tell her that it'll be needed until the following morning.

"Okay! Two double beds and it even has a mini fridge! How are you paying?" she asks, smiling.

"Cash, if that's okay?"

"Sure, no problem. Just know any additional items that aren't included must be paid for when you check out." I tell her that's fine. "Right now still counts as yesterday, and no offense, but, you look like crap so I'm not charging you for this very early morning."

"Thank you. It's been a long day." I pull my wallet out and give her a hundred dollar bill. I'm happy she's not a stickler, but I also don't care. I wish I had some twenties instead, but oh well.

"You're welcome and you'll be in 211. Head on up to the second floor and it'll be on your left once you get off the elevator."

"Thanks," I say, turning to leave as she calls out and asks if I want my change. "No, that's all right. Keep it charged to the room in case I do purchase something." I walk out and rejoin Bella, who is nervously chewing on her thumbnail, in the car.

"You know you shouldn't bite your nails," I say in mock disappointment, trying to lighten the mood.

"Sorry," she says, dropping her hand into her lap to rest with the other. "A bad habit when I'm stressed," she adds softly.

"Yeah, I get that. Anyway, I got us a room with two beds up on the second floor near the elevator. We have to go through the lobby to get to the elevators, or we can take the long way by using the stairs at the end. What would you like to do?" I mean, if I look like shit, then she looks like the dead.

"Um, I think I can do stairs."

After asking if she's sure and her saying she's okay, we get out. I open the trunk and grab the bag with all the money inside. It might be easier if I actually have it with me, just in case we have to ditch the car. I really hope it doesn't come down to that. I don't have any type of plan that involves not having a car.

I walk next to her in case she needs my support, but we need to move as quickly as possible. The faster we get inside and to the room, the faster we can breathe and sleep. Well, as much as we can before the end. The only other thought I have is that maybe I should purchase a gun for us. Things don't always go as planned, so it might be useful. The problem is, I have no idea how to get one as quickly as I need it. I can't wait days—or weeks—for everything to get approved.

When we get inside the room and get the lights on, I put our bags on the desk. Bella comes over and opens hers while I look around. I notice that the curtains aren't completely closed, so I walk over to the window and pull them tighter. They can't do much if they can't see us.

I turn to look at Bella when she speaks. "I'm just going to use the bathroom. I'll only be a minute," Bella says quietly. She turns and goes, closing and locking the door behind her.

I decide to get comfortable on one of the beds, specifically the one closest to the door. I'm slightly worried about myself, of course, but more worried about her. She's a tiny little thing compared to that beast of a man that is her husband. No, he's not a man; a man would never take his anger out on a woman and feel no remorse. A man would not expect people to bend to his every will. A man knows what the words "no" and "stop" mean. A man should protect the ones he loves, not beat them into submission and make them live in constant fear.

No. He is not a man.

About ten minutes pass before I realize Bella hasn't come out yet. I get up and listen intently as I walk softly to the bathroom. When I reach the door, I hear sniffling. I lean on the door frame next to the knob.

"Bella?" More sniffling. "Bella, are you all right? Do you need anything?"

She snorts humorlessly, then says, "Yeah. A new body. Does Emmett do full body transplants?"

I sigh. "I'm sorry, Bella. Why don't you come on out and lie down to get more sleep?" I only have to wait about thirty seconds before I hear the click of the lock and the door opens.

"Okay, I'll try. But tomorrow, we need to talk. If I'm going to continue to trust you, I need answers." I nod and she walks out to lay on the other bed. I take this opportunity to use the bathroom, then get some shut eye. It is four in the morning, after all.

I wake to whimpering. Looking at the clock, bleary-eyed and confused, I see it's only a little after six A.M. The whimpers come from my left, but I don't understand why. Then the pleading words "stop" and "please" hit my ears and I shoot up out of my bed, remembering. I quickly go to Bella's bedside and lightly shake her. She needs to wake up.

"Bella." She groans. "Bella, wake up! You're having a nightmare." She just groans more and I notice that she's sweating. "Shit." I shake a little harder. She's not coming to and I hate that she'll be in more pain, but I shake her a little harder. "Bella!"

She jolts awake, but her eyes close again and she starts slapping at me, trying to fight me off despite her injuries.

"Bella … Bella!" I repeat. "It's me! It's Edward!" I say as I try to grab her wrists to stop her unnecessary—although necessary to her—assault. She finally opens her eyes wide, staring at me in fear and horror. We're both breathing hard, me from trying to stop her and the panic of the what-ifs, and her from her nightmare and pains. "It's okay. It's just me, just Edward. He's not here and won't ever touch you again."

It takes a moment, but soon she's relaxing as much as she can. Then she's shaking, sobbing and clinging to me. I wrap my arms around her and hold her as tight as I can. I can't imagine what she's feels, living in that abusive relationship. How many nightmares has she had because of him? How many other times has he hit her? How long will it take for her to heal, both physically and emotionally, from this?

All I know is that she won't be able to heal much until he's safely out of the picture, whether that's in prison, or dead.

*GOA*

BPOV

I finally calm down from my sobbing. This man holding me makes me feel safe and I'm afraid of it. The last man that I shared this feeling with ended up hitting me with fists, feet, objects, and words. But, despite it scaring me, I hold on tighter because he's the only one here to help me get away from Sam.

After a few minutes I'm calm enough to ask something. "You know The Notebook?" I ask, still being held by Edward. There's a slight pause before he answers, probably since he didn't think I would talk.

"Yeah. Believe it or not, I've seen it."

"It's one of my favorite romantic movies and it always makes me cry no matter how many times I watch it, even though I haven't watched it in a few years. I always hoped I'd die that way: asleep, cuddled up next to the love of my life in our bed. They make it seem like they went happy and painlessly. I have no doubt they were happy, especially in their instance, but I wonder if I go in my sleep, will I feel pain or will it truly feel like going to sleep?"

I'm not looking for an answer, but he gives me one anyway. "I think we all hope to go painlessly, but you don't have to worry about that. I won't let him get far enough to even touch you. I promise."

I huff out a short laugh. "Edward, you and I both know you can't make that promise—not when you have your own problems, too." I let go and sit up, turning to face him. My fingers are sore from the grip I had on him. I flex and rub them a little before I look at him. "I need you to tell me who you're running from." I trust him a lot more than I normally would, and I can't afford to be on my own right now. "We're clearly in this together until the end, so I need to know."

And he tells me everything from the beginning: hearing the voices downstairs, witnessing his father's murder and holding him as he died, then escaping with a bunch of cash and the clean-up guys chasing him. I feel kind of bad that he booked a flight out of here, only to have Sam and I ruin it. No, just Sam.

Pushing aside that thought, I focus on Edward's story. "Why didn't you just give them the money when you had a chance? Why run?" I ask. I mean, it makes more sense to me to give them what was there and hope that it was all they required.

"I don't know. Maybe it's because it's all he had left? I don't know where he banks, let alone know how to access his account. I guess since he's dead and I'm his son I could, but they would probably need at least a death certificate, and I can't get that. And my ex took everything I had, so I can't contribute. I was broke until yesterday and I panicked."

I bite my lip and scrunch my face in thought. "Well, it's too late now. Even if you did give them the money, they might hurt, kidnap, or threaten you so you don't talk. Or just make you dead."

"Yeah, and where would that leave you? I'm not saying you're a defenseless woman, but your so called husband has been doing this to you for I don't know how long. You at least need some help. But right now, we both need to get some more sleep."

I look down at my hands in my lap. "I feel exhausted, but I don't want to sleep. I'm afraid I'll get stuck inside the dreams again."

He sighs and I'm not sure if he's frustrated, tired, or out of pity. It's probably all of them. "I'm sorry. What can I do?" I look at him then. He has dark circles under his eyes and he truly looks concerned and sincere.

"I don't know. I guess nothing really at this point. Just, be there?" I say uncertainly and with a slow, one shoulder shrug. He agrees and lets me lie back down, this time beside him. "You can stay or go back to your own bed. Whatever you feel like is okay." My eyes are closed, so I can't see him, but I feel the bed move a few minutes later.

"How dare you leave me, you worthless piece of shit! You didn't think I would find you?" Sam yells as he stalks towards my position on the floor. The bed between us is barely a hindrance. My pleading doesn't affect him.

Slap.

I scream. My face stings and burns. He grabs me by the hair and arm, picking me up and tossing me onto the bed.

"Fucking whore!"

A punch to my stomach is next; a continuous action until the floor is under me after I'm pushed there. Now it's the kicking. The hard, rubber shoe bottoms make each kick hurt more.

"Bella!"

Why is he saying my name that way? Why does he care now?

"Bella!" I hear again and again. I know that voice now.

I wake up to Edward leaning over me with tired and scared eyes. I start to cry again and cling to him. I cry for my physical pain, the nightmares, and for the love I once had. You'd think since I've cried so much I wouldn't have any tears left to shed. Edward moves to lean against the headboard while soothing words leave his mouth. He holds me to him and I just let it all out. I'm a slobbering, snotty mess by the time I'm done, but he doesn't seem to care. He just hands me the tissue box and runs his hand up and down my back. It's a comfort I haven't known in years.

"I know it's only been one night, but I'm already wondering when these will stop," I confess, still sniffling and in a lot of pain. "Can you go get me the maximum dosage of Ibuprofen, please?" He slips out to do as I asked. I sit up a little and take the pills.

As he gets comfortable next to me again, he says, "I don't know. I think only time will tell. Some things can't be rushed or else it'll come back worse. Just hold on to what you know you have and trust that it will end."

I snort and it hurts. "I know it will end." I cuddle up to him again before I continue. "The question we can't answer is how and that's what scares me—the unknown."

A/N: Such a horrible dream/memory. I love The Notebook, but it makes me cry my eyes out every time, lol.