Nick PoV

So this was one of her secrets she so desperately didn't want to tell me. She was not only abused, but also forced to work in a club, a strip club. How messed up was that?

I could honestly say I was disgusted, not only by the fact of her displaying her body to the lustful eyes of the men in the club, with their cigars, champagne and marriage-rings on their fingers.
I was also grossed out by the fact that someone made Jay, a young, sort of innocent girl, do this. Made her do this.

I wanted to run up that stage and drag her down. Get mad at her, yell and rip her away from this life.
At the same time I felt the urge to just carry her out, hug her close and walk away without looking back.

I flinched, realising someone was staring at me, again. The guy from a few minutes ago, he was still staring at me with eyes that didn't hold much kindness. He was staring at me with very deep electric blue eyes, strands of messy brown hair hanging over them.
I watched back for a few seconds, a very uneasy and downright scared feeling in my stomach.

I walked backwards, just one step and he moved with me. His eyes intense staring into mine.

I glared at him and then turned away, facing the stage again and from the corners of my eyes, I saw him walk back into the shadows, a frightening smile on his face.

When I relaxed a bit, when the tall man was out of my sight, I focussed on my first priority again, Jay, and realised I was standing way to close. I looked up and as she turned around, the white strands of silk flying around her, she saw me.

Her green eyes, which I noticed weren't as bright and witty as a few weeks back when I first met her, widened at my sight and she stopped in her track, breaking the sensual tension in the air.

She just stood there, frozen and terrified. Staring down at me from up the stage.

"Jay." I whispered, in my turn breaking the tension.

She ran, at first stumbling backwards, her lips forming an unbelieving 'O', but then turning around and full force running for it.

I acted on instinct, jumping up the stage and past the other two dancing girls, or at least, I though it were girls.

Her bare feet barely touched the ground as she fled, through a curtain and out of my sight.

I ducked through the curtain, stopping when I saw the silk scarf lying on the ground. I picked it up, feeling the warmth still in the fabric, looking around.

I was now standing in what looked like backstage on one of our concerts, only without the screaming, the family and way creepier.

There was lots of leather, some iron chains and other things I didn't want to look at. A trail of seemingly bloody footsteps leading me into the right direction…

I followed them, the silky scarf in my balled hand. Where was she? Was she okay? What had happened and what was up with the blood?

Eventually, when my worries were reaching a peak, I reached a door, seemingly an emergency exit, but without the shiny sign.

It was white, again, giving the fake image of pureness. What a godforgotten place is this? What did that bastard pull her into? I asked myself as I pushed open the door, but the questions were forgotten immediately.

I had thought this building, full of slaves and degrading toys, where bodies were sold, not even with their permission, this house full of dirt and evil, that this was horrifying.

But the image of Jay, curled up against a grey brick wall, tears staining her face, only wearing now dirty and red stained silk scarves around her body and the silver choker, green eyes pained and hurt, was way more horrifying then all of that.

She didn't saw me and I realised she was singing, a beautiful song, sung with words I didn't understand, her voice small and pure.

I heard music, seemingly coming out of no where, accompanying her in her soul wrecking sob-song. It was soft and full of sadness, like the image of her, sprawled on the ground.

I walked closer, now convinced she was deliberately ignoring me and sat down in front of her, on my knees as she sang, the unknown language leaving her mouth with more emotion then I had ever seen in her.

I looked down, at her feet, softly touching it and turning it around gently. I bit my lip as I saw the ripped and tormented skin.

She gasped and then, the melody changed, into something different, more intense then soothing.

To my astonishment, I saw the blood stop, the wounds pulling back and new skin forming over it, until nothing but small scars were left, like it hadn't just happened a few minutes ago, but rather a few months.

In wonder, I touched her feet, only to find solid, soft skin underneath my fingertips as the music changed again and I forgot about what I just saw.

I crawled further, until I was seated against the wall next to her and pulled her into my arms, curled up on my lap and against my chest as her tears stained my shirt.

She stopped singing, the music flowing away until there was only silence left, except for her sobs.

"He rapes me." She began. "He does, you know that. He loves torturing me; it's why he keeps me. I was sold to him by my insane mother, who pushed out her cigarettes on me and already had enough children. She sold me to him, even though my father tried to stop her. But they killed him in order to get to me. My mother has probably killed herself with drugs already. Ever since I've been all, but everywhere. A slave and a doll, but nobody liked me."
She told me, a sort of insane happy smile growing on her face. "I had too much fire; I didn't give in, not even after a while, not after beatings, threads, starvation, showing me the hard way or from exhaustion. They sometimes barely kept me alive, put me on drugs, cut off my medicines. But I never gave in. I never gave my body, they took it. They found him and they took it. He was intrigued by me. Obsessed with breaking me, hurting me. He is addicted to pain, a hurt-junk. He makes my life a living hell, loves the fact that I don't give up, so the only thing I can do is give in, because he hates that. But when I give in, he punishes me for that too."

"Why don't you just run away?" I asked, softly rocking back and forth.

"I can't run away, because they'd always find me." She sighed, burying herself deeper into my arms, as if she'd never felt an embrace before. "And, well, I cannot live without him. As bullshit as that is."

Jay PoV

I was terrified when I saw him there, standing just there, at the end of the stage, his eyes on me, hurt in the brown orbs. Not for himself, but for me. That terrified me more then ever because frankly, I haven't seen that emotion much in my life.

So I did the only thing that seemed reasonable at the time, run for it, like I had done so many times before, even if it made me feel bad, even though my feet hurt like crazy from the dancing, I ran.

I ran past the confused faces of my fellow slaves, though their eyes were broken. Past the angered faces of the men I despised. Through the hallways, past all the rooms, as if I was in a five star hotel. Not hearing the disturbing sounds. Just keep on running. Towards the door to the open attic.

I bursted through the door, feeling the soothing of the cool air on my exposed skin. Breathing in deeply and feeling my knees buckle underneath me. I crawled up into a ball, feeling the tears roll over my cheeks.

He was there, he saw me. Oh, how he must despise me now. How he must hate me, he must think I am a slut, a whore. And just that I am, even though I try not to be.

I called the melodies, to soothe me, when his arms would never again. The warm hug of the music felt nice, but empty. I missed the warmth that Nick's arms had provided, even though I had only felt it once in my life, for the first and last time.
I let the notes take me away from my aching body, the hate towards myself and the memory of this morning and the feeling of the knife over my stomach.

Then, suddenly, he stood there, his eyes wild and his clothes completely messed up. Though not as messed up as I was. I ignored him and kept on singing, hoping it would drag me away, into a dream-like state so I didn't have to feel it all. I was running, again.

But he didn't, he almost slowly advanced towards me, as if afraid he would hurt me if he moved to fast and sank down, watching my face anxiously. He touched my feet and a pang of pain shot through them, I ignored it, it wasn't as if I hadn't felt more of that throughout my entire black hole of a life.

He gently picked my right foot up and looked at it. His hands soft on my tortured feet.
In a natural instinct to hide myself from him, I healed myself, trying to cover the wounds in the only way I knew.

I saw his eyes widen at the sight, but he didn't say anything. Instead he gave me what I craved the most, his arms. His warm strong arms around me, a gesture I never thought to need so much.

I realised I trusted him, already loved him, so I talked, like he had wanted me to do since the beginning. Just because of the fact he was here, he followed me, he risked his life, on purpose, to help me. To make sure I was all right.

He hugged me closer as I talked, unconsciously, his face showing the obvious, but also the unexpected emotions. There was rage and concern, love and hate, hope and sadness. So much I could only stare at his face, talk and read them.

I trusted him. He hadn't broken his promise, he hadn't left me. So I told him what he wanted to know.

"Why don't you just run away?" He asked.

I wished it was that simple.

"I can't run away, because they'd always find me." I answered. Feeling him shift so he could look at me, his eyes in question, noticing the second part of my answer.
"And, well, I cannot live without him. As bullshit as that is." I continued.

I felt him stiffen at this, not demanding, but asking an answer with his eyes.

"I have Sensophia Admentium. A rare blood-disease. My body creates a toxic substance that attacks my blood-cells."

He started to understand, because I saw the knowledge in his eyes.

"Matt, to the government, is my legal guardian. The medicine for what I have is very dangerous and as an under aged girl, I could never get it myself, so I'm fucking dependant on him for it." I said, venom in my words, as well as my blood.

"Is it very dangerous to you?" He asked, naturally concerned in my health when he was the one in danger here.

I started to come to myself again and noticed the incredibly vulnerable position I was in, the skin on skin starting to freak me out again instead of calming me down. I could think straight again and I was now wondering why the hell he was here? Didn't I tell him to stop trying to help me? I thought so.

I saw his expectant eyes and realised he wanted an answer.

Oh, might as well… "No." I said. "It's not dangerous or threatening when I get my shot every day. The annoying thing is that when I don't. It' hurts. So he just stops giving me shots sometimes."

"What more does that monster do to hurt you?"

"Well, he hypotherm'd me a few days ago, left me underneath the shower for at least 3 and a half hours. He hits me with practically everything he can find, and I think I saw him take a nine-tail from the stock a few hours ago."

Nick winced, hugging me closer and making me even more uncomfortable. So I struggled against his hold.

He released me at once, afraid to have hurt me more after what he'd just heard. I crawled away and went to sit a feet or 2/3 away from him. Hugging my knees, even though my stomach still hurt.

"The nine-tail isn't that bad. I've had that before. The branding, that hurt bad." I reassured him, but only made his eyes widen more, his mouth open in shock.

"He branded you?"

"Yeah."

I knew I was speaking little of my injuries. Not only because I knew very damn well how much they hurt, but also because of the disbelieve on Nick's face.

"It's okay. I can handle it." I said. Like I had told myself all those hundreds of times. I hoped it did help with him.

Probably not, because he said: "How can one person handle all that? It's horrible what he does to you. You're not an animal, I mean, you don't even do that to an animal, you don't do that to anything!"

God, he was stubborn.

"Listen, I lived with it for the last four years…" I started, but got interrupted.

The door opened, very slowly and in a way that I recognized.

It opened completely and in the doorframe stood the familiar tall body of Matt, his face serene, but his eyes fixed at ours.

In a flash, I realised what he wanted. Recognized the look in his eyes, just the general way he was standing there, all dominant and demanding.

My whole body refused that idea and once again I reacted on instinct, shooting up, even though it triggered pain.

"No." I said. "No. No. NO, absolutely not."

I turned to Nick. "Get out!" I screamed, right to his face. "Get your sorry butt out of here. Right! Now!"

Nick scrambled up. A highly confused look on his face.

"Jay… What..?" He began, but I shut him off.

"Shut up! Just shut the hell up and get away from me! I… I… Just go!" I yelled, at the top of my lungs.

Nick looked over my shoulder, seeing Matt behind me. Recognition on his face.

"Is that..?" He began, but I interrupted him again.

"Fuck off! Get out! NOW! I…" god I hated myself for this, but I had to get him out of here. "I hate you! I never want to see you again! You disposable little brat!" I cried out. Shoving him off as hard as I could.

Nick's face changed from confused to hurt and I saw his hands tremble.

"Fine." Be breathed, but I could see his brains working already, trying to find out what I was doing and I was sure he would find it. Too late, but he would find it.

He walked past me with a last sad expression and out the attic door. He'd find his way out…

I stayed still for a good twenty seconds before I turned around and looked into Matt's blue eyes.

"You knew him, huh?" It wasn't a question, but a statement.

I stayed silent.

"Why didn't you tell me you had a boyfriend, he could've come over to dinner?" He continued, sickly sweet. The smile on his face nearly insane.

"He's not my boyfriend." I answered shortly. "He's just an arrogant brat that can't keep his ugly nose to himself."

"Oh, well, I'd say he was far from ugly, my dear little whore." Matt said, forcing me to look up to him with his hand around my chin. "Why didn't you tell me, huh? Why didn't you tell me about the pretty boy you met, now?"

I knew what he would do before he did and I hardly winced as my back came in contact with the hard bricks, the punches in my stomach sharp, but bearable. I remembered who I did it for. It wasn't just empty fighting anymore, because I clearly saw the loving, unharmed face of Nick in front of me ads I took the punches and the slaps, even the nine-tails. Matt's anger on me only meant Nick was safe. And that was enough for me. Even though he didn't give me my shot that night. The night on the ground, my hands tied to the leg of the bed. It was worth it, because Nick was safe.

See Chibiyu, that's how you're nice to Nick. At least in this chapter… Nick will get it in the following pieces.
Anyway, I hoped you liked it! Update for things We Learn From Jonas will probably come up somewhere tonight too. So say yay everyone.
Oh and did you catch the new duet between Joe and Demi? I love 'make a wave'!! (if you didn't catch it, you obviously don't have twitter) (why I have it? No idea)

don't forget to vote on the polli n my profile and I hope to see ya next time!
Reviews mean love (something I could use after writing this chapter) to me.
~silver