I am so blown away by the response to this story! Thank you so much to everyone that reads and a special thank you to those that take the time to review! Your reviews make my whole week :)

Whatobsession17, Kimmcarr, and Jessypt, thank you so so much for all the time you've put into this story! Couldn't do it without you ladies!

Remember to check out the forum over at Twilighted, those ladies have some great theories on Edward and Bella's histories

SM owns all the characters of Twilight... I just took their homes away

WARNING!

This story contains subject matter which may be offensive to some readers. I will try to post a warning before each chapter if I feel there is a need, but the story in general deals with mature themes.

I awake to find no peace of mind.

I said how do you live

As a fugitive?

Down here, where I cannot sleep from fear

I said what do I know?

Show me the right way to go.

- Coldplay

EPOV

We continue on our way. I'm rolling over ideas of where to leave her. I don't want to leave her in a bad area, but I know that the motels will be cheaper and she could stay much longer. I decide that the longer she has shelter, the better. If I take her on the nicer side of town, then she'll only be able to stay three maybe four, nights. In a shit-hole I'm hoping she can stretch it out for at least a week, maybe more. I look back to make sure she's still behind me. She's soaking wet, and shivering, but smiling.

"What are you smiling about?" I ask amused.

"I'm just thinking about the hot shower that I'm gonna take as soon as we get there," she says, her smile growing. "Aren't you excited to be dry and warm?"

"Uh, yeah," I say, still not wanting her to know that I plan on leaving her at the door and parting ways for good. I walk with her in the downpour until we reach the street I've been heading for. It's not far from the industrial area of town. It's a shitty part of town, no doubt, but it'll have to do. If she wants to go somewhere else she can, but at least this will set her up for now. When we make it to the street, she quickly catches up to me and grips the arm of my coat. There are men under the awning to our right smoking and shouting. Because of the high concentration of cheap motels in this area, there are whores littered up and down the street. It isn't a pleasant sight.

I see the motel I had in mind - Uncle Mac's, it's most definitely a shit-hole, but the nicer of its neighbors. It's well known amongst the hookers, but not known for a high volume of violence.

"This is where we're gonna stay?" she asks in a quiet, mousy voice when we make it to the door; the door that's lined with bars.

"I'm not sure what your used to, but with the amount of mon-" She cuts me off.

"I'm not used to anything. I haven't been to a hotel or... motel in over five years, this is fine," she says, brushing past me, going in.

I follow behind her. A distinct smell of vomit and piss hits us like a fucking ton of bricks. The tiny... lobby, if that's what I should call it, is barely lit and disgusting. There's just a window along the far wall and one door, absolutely nothing else in the room. I see no one behind the window, so we both stand in the doorway, not sure what our next move should be.

It's dead silent until the door flies open and a woman in a hot pink bra-top and cut-off jean shorts comes walking in. She's short but has on huge red shoes that seem to lift her feet off the ground. Her look screams ridden hard and put away wet. She should not be in that outfit with her body type. From my place across the room, I can see old track marks up and down her bare arms. Not too far behind her, a man comes in still zipping up his pants, fucking disgusting. He looks like he was forgotten in a tanning bed and came out an unnatural shade of orange when someone found him. His hair - well what's left of it - is matted to his forehead from the perspiration that's still there from their...activities.

The hooker walks out the door without another glance back. Bella turns her back to the man, and tries to get closer to me. I hook an arm around her, shielding her from the Sleaze Ball behind her. He walks up to the window and starts slamming on the ledge in front of it.

"You want your money or not? Huh?" he shouts through the window, trying to get someone's attention. An equally sleazy man walks up to the window. He's large, no - fucking huge. He's hairy and greasy looking. His shirt is half open, revealing a large tattoo of the American flag that's plastered across his nasty, hairy chest. They finish their business, and Mr. Orange leaves. I grab Bella by the hand and drag her up to the counter.

"I need a room," I say.

"I see that," he responds, his eyes roaming up and down Bella's body. Instinctively, I move her behind me away from his prying eyes. Fuck, how the hell am I going to leave her here? I just have to do it. I already have resolved in my head that I would be walking out of here, alone, tonight. But I can feel, as every second passes, my resolve weakening.

"Got a room or not?" I say, my tone laced with pure hatred towards the sleaze.

"How many hours?" he says, backing off, picking up on my display of protectiveness. I hear Bella behind me, "Hours?" Fuck, she really knows nothing.

"No, uh... how much is a week?" I ask. He actually makes eye contact with me.

"You want to stay here for a week?" he asks, incredulously.

"You gonna tell me how much or what?" I'm wet, cold, uncomfortable, and fucking sick of this douche bag's games.

"Yeah, three-twenty," he says spitting on the floor.

"Yeah, fuck you. I ain't got three-twenty, and I know that's not your price." If he thinks he's going to fuck me over, he has another thing coming. Bella tugs on my shirt and starts to whisper fucking loudly, " Edward, it's ok I have enough." Fuck! She knows nothing! I turn and shoot her a shitty look that I hope says, "Shut the fuck up and let me handle this," and from the look in her eyes, she gets the point. If she couldn't even book a room alone, how the hell can she survive on her own?

"Kid, the price is three-twenty, three-seventy five for a room with a microwave and cable."

"Listen, two-fifty, or I'm getting the fuck outta here," I say, raising an eyebrow. No one rents these shit-holes weekly. I can't imagine him turning down the cash.

"Fine, cash up front," he demands.

"Do I look fucking stupid? Half or nothing." Yeah ok, I'll give him all the money so he can lock her out or some shit. I don't think so. I need to give him a reason to keep his end of the deal. There is no way that she'll stand up to him if he tries to screw her over.

"Do you want the half, or not? Last chance," I say. He nods, giving me a shitty look. I pull the bills out and they're sopping wet. I separate one hundred twenty-five and slide it across the counter. He passes me a key. I don't need to grab Bella, because I can feel her attached to my arm.I walk with her, still attached, and go through the door that takes us out of the back of the lobby. Behind is a separated building, two stories with twelve doors. The rain hasn't let up at all, and I just want to get her into her dry room.

I look at the key and see that she's in room seven - top right room. Good she will only have a neighbor on one side. The whole way up the stairs, I'm thinking about what to say to her. My whole body is fighting me, not wanting to leave her. My resolve is all but gone. We make it to the door, and I hand her the key and money.

"No, you keep them," she says, trying to hand them back. When she sees the look in my eyes, she understands what I'm doing.

"No, Edward. No, please." Her voice is so quiet, but she is shaking her head repeating the same thing.

"Bella, you're fine now. Stay here until you figure out how to get back home or wherever you came from." She stiffens at my comment.

"No, you don't understand I can't... there is nowhere to go... I can't." She's starting to panic, so I pull her to me, trying to calm her.

"Shh, calm down; you have a week here." I bend down and look her in the eyes. "Can't you call anyone? Whatever happened, I'm sure it can be fixed?"

"Edward, no. There is no one for me to call. You don't have to take care of me... I'm so sorry, I won't ask for help anymore, just, please don't leave me." Her begging is breaking me; I can't stand to see her like this. I say nothing, just stand in front of the door while she clings to me as if her life depends on it.

"Your arm... come in, and at least let me bandage it... please." My arm is still throbbing and bleeding. I decide that I'll go in and take care of my arm. I do want to see the inside, to make sure it's ok. I feel like I have to break this off before I get any deeper. I can admit to myself that I have feelings for this girl, but I can't allow myself to trust her; I can't let anyone in. People let you down, they can't help it, but I can't take one more person fucking me over. I closed myself off a long time ago, and I need to do whatever I can to keep it that way. It's so hard to keep this line of thought with her body pressed up against me, begging me to stay.

I move away from her, opening the door and step inside with her behind me. The room isn't as bad as I was expecting. There's a queen size bed, a small round table with two chairs, a shitty TV, and a little side table with a small microwave on it. The ceiling and walls are covered in water stains and the room has a musty smell, but it could be so much worse. I walk around the corner to what I assume is the bathroom, and once again, it's no five star place, but it's not terrible. It has a stand up shower, sink and a toilet. All of which are surprisingly clean; they are old and a nasty green color, but clean enough.

I come out of the bathroom and Bella is looking around the room.

"Not too bad, huh?" I ask.

"No, it's really not," she says, and then walks towards me.

"Let me see your arm," she says. I shrug my sopping wet coat off. I look at my long sleeve shirt and realize to get to the cut, I will have to take my shirt off. The cut is right below my left armpit. I have no idea how she will react to this. I open my mouth to tell her but she cuts me off. "It's ok; it needs to dry anyway." I slip the shirt over my head and I hear her gasp. I have many scars on me from my past and assume that she's disgusted by me.

"Yeah, sorry," I say, suddenly embarrassed of myself, for the first time. I have never cared before, but I want her to be attracted to me.

"No, Edward, that's not what I... that's not..." She trails off, shaking her head. I sit on a chair at the little table, waiting to see what she will do with no supplies and wanting to keep her from seeing my back. She goes into the bathroom and comes back with a washcloth, it's black so I have no idea if it's clean or not.

"I ran it under the hottest water that I could, this might sting," she says as she presses the cloth to my cut. Motherfucker, it does hurt, bad. I bite my lip in effort not to scream out.

"I'm sorry," she says as she continues to press the cloth against my skin.

"It's fine, s'not so bad," I lie.

"I think you need stitches, it's really deep," she says.

"Not gonna happen. It'll be fine."

"Well, I'm at least going to go get you bandages for it," she insists.

After a lengthy conversation, I talk her in to staying here, taking a shower and getting warmed up, while I run out to get us some food, a change of clothes and shit for my arm. She's scared to be alone and wants to go with me, but really, it will be much faster if I just run to the store and back. There's no reason for her to get wet again by following me there.

"Ok, I'll be right back; make sure you lock the door, ok?" I say as I throw my shirt back on. She doesn't respond but she looks like she's about to cry. I turn to leave when I hear her very quietly, "Promise?"

"Promise what?" I ask.

"That you'll come back." Fuck, that's why she's freaking out. She thinks I'm taking her money and going to disappear, leaving her stranded. I stop my path towards the door and turn back to face her.

"Bella, do you really think after everything, that I would take your money and leave you here?" I ask. I try not to show my offense to what she is insinuating.

"No, not the money thing, but you already said that you were going to leave me," she says, tears gathering in her eyes. I guess I did tell her that was the plan. I'm just realizing that, even with a place to stay now, she will never survive on her own. I'm not sure what to do, and plan to think about it when I have some space away from her while I run to the store.

"Bella, I promise that I'll be right back; then, we can talk about what to do next, ok?" She eyes me skeptically.

"Don't you trust me at all yet?" I ask somewhat exasperated. It's obvious that something very traumatic happened to her, but she has to trust me on some level to be following me around.

"Yes, I do. Just, please come back," she says again.

"Lock the door behind me, I'll be right back." I leave and run to the closest store. It's a Rite Aid, and it's open late. I go up and down the aisles, grabbing things that we may need. Bags of snack food and a couple things we can microwave. I get a few things to help my arm. They have a only a couple items in the way of clothes, some t-shirts and sweat pants. I grab a set for me and take a guess on what size she is. I leave the store with twenty-three dollars less than I came in with, but have everything I need.

When I make it back to the room, the idea of a hot shower and dry clothes is more appealing to me than anything else in this world. I pound on the door but she doesn't answer. I keep knocking until I finally hear movement on the other side.

"Edward?" Her voice is muffled by the door.

"Yeah, let me in." It's cold as fuck out here. I hear the lock release, but she barely opens the door.

"Close your eyes until I get back to the bathroom, ok?" She asks through the crack in the door. I agree and step inside keeping my eyes trained on the dirty carpet. I look up too soon, thinking she's gone, and catch a glimpse of her retreating form in nothing but a small towel. Fuck. I try so hard to not think about her that way, but it's damn near impossible. I can't deny my attraction to her, and now I know she's just on the other side of that door naked. I take the bag of stuff that I bought and walk to the bathroom door and knock.

"Bella, I got you something dry to sleep in, I'll just leave it by the door," I say, setting the bag with the pink and black stripped pajama pants and black t-shirt by the door. As soon as I turn my back, I hear the door open and Bella's voice thanking me. Not five minutes later, she comes out looking refreshed, warm and clean. The pants are a little large on her, leaving me a glimpse of pale skin between the pants and shirt. Her skin is a little pink from the heat of the shower, her hair is wet and curls at the end. I can feel my pants tightening and try to bash down my sexual thoughts directed towards her.

"Feel better?" I ask.

"So much, you have no idea," she says with a smile. "You should go take one, the water is actually really hot." I know that I should say no and stick with my original plan of leaving her here, but the thought of a hot shower is so damn tempting. When I don't answer she goes on.

"Please, just get warm before we talk. Go shower, then we can get your cut taken care of." I can't argue with her, even if I do leave tonight it would be nice to be clean and in dry clothes. I show her the food I bought at the store, and she digs in. I grab the clothing that I bought for myself, thanking her, and promising to pay her back. She waves me off and tells me to enjoy my shower.

She's right, the water is hot, and it feels so good. My cut burns under the water but it's worth it. After I'm all cleaned up, I just stand under the spray, loving the feeling. I decide to quickly take care of the hard problem I received after, once again, thinking about Bella standing in the same spot naked only minutes before. I feel stress leaving my body as I have my release. I stand under the spray a while longer, trying to get my thoughts together. After I shut the water off and step out, I dry off with a towel that is the size of a large hand towel. I grab the black sweats and t-shirt that I bought and put them on. Getting the wet denim that I was wearing off and putting dry sweats on is the best feeling ever.

I come out of the bathroom with a pile of both our wet clothing. She's sitting at the table watching something on TV. I notice that she made me a plate of food and has all the supplies out for my arm. I walk over to the metal heater that's under the window and turn it on, happy to feel warm air coming out. I lay our clothes across it in hopes that it will help them dry; I do the same with our shoes.

"Thanks," I say, motioning to the paper plate of snacks that she has laid out for me.

"Of course," she says with a soft smile. "Do you want to eat first, or should I fix your arm really fast?"

"Uh, if you don't mind I'd like to get it wrapped before it starts to bleed again." She smiles and walks over to where I'm sitting. I'm happy to see that she doesn't flinch as much as she used to and is more comfortable being close to me.

She sits very close to me and opens the sterilizer that I bought. She takes some gauze and sprays it, soaking the material. The shirt I'm wearing now is short sleeved, so I just roll it up.

"This is going to burn, sorry," she says as she presses the gauze to my arm.

"Shit," I hiss from the burn. She looks into my eyes, sympathy radiating off of her. As soon as she feels that it's clean enough, she takes out the butterfly style bandages that work well to hold the cut together. It hurts like hell as she squeezes the cut together. She gets them on, then finishes by wrapping an Ace bandage around my arm.

"There, that should keep it from getting infected, so it can heal," she says, pulling my t-shirt sleeve down.

"Thank you," I say, starting to shove food in my mouth. She has tied the bandage with the perfect amount of pressure, and the pain has already lessened a little. I think about the first time I saw her and how beat up she was, and the scars on her face, I shudder when I realize that she's probably nursed her own injuries. I decide in that moment there is no way I can leave her. I would walk out of this room and do nothing but worry and come back to find her. Whatever attachment we have to each other is strong; it scares the shit out of me. I do need some information from her though and decide to try to ask her again. I stand and turn the TV off and come to sit back down.

"Bella - " Before I can continue, she cuts me off.

"Listen, I know I have been a pain... but I promise... if you stay... if you'll just stay-"

"I'm not going anywhere right now, ok," I say, cutting her off before she starts to really panic. She visibly relaxes and sits back in her chair.

"We do need to talk though. You are always... and I mean, always, looking over your shoulder, or acting like I'm gonna hit you. Give me something here, Bella. What, or who are you hiding from?" She sits there and stares at me, not willing to speak. My frustration is growing at a rapid rate. I think back to our first night, when she wouldn't tell me her name until I gave mine up first. I decide to take the same approach with this, to see if it will work. I never talk about my past, and it's hard for me to get the words to leave my mouth.

"When I was twelve... that's when I ran. I ran away and never looked back." Her head pops up and she stares at me, waiting for me to continue. I take a deep breath and go on.

"I was in foster care, and it was bad... really bad." I refuse to go into detail; I can't imagine reliving the experience.

"One day, when it was the worst, I decided to get out. Like I said, I was twelve and knew nothing. I had nothing - no money, no clothing, no family - nothing. It didn't matter to me, though; I knew I had to get out of there. I would have never survived if I had stayed." You could hear a pin drop, she just sits quietly absorbing all the information I'm giving her.

"I made it here to Portland and got in with the wrong crowd. I got into drugs and stealing, doing whatever I could to survive. I had been arrested multiple times, and was sent back to foster care every time. Each time, I would steal, lie, cheat, run, or do whatever I had to do to get away. It didn't matter who I hurt; I put survival first and made sure I got away. It took a long while before I finally realized that what I was doing was accomplishing nothing but keeping me out there. I didn't want to be homeless; I wanted to make it off the streets, but everything I was doing was holding me there. I figured out that I would never make it if I kept doing all the shady shit I was doing." I looked up and saw a thousand questions dancing in her eyes but knew she wasn't brave enough to ask them.

"So, when you asked me what I was running from before, that day by the waterfront, the answer is everything. I'm running from everything, and I have been for eight years. Running from foster care, running from the cops, running from all the things I am ashamed of doing... running from the street." I see her eyes fill with tears. "I get so tired of fucking running." I say through gritted teeth, surprising myself at how hearing the words out loud is affecting me.

We sit in silence for a while, then I hear her say, "Fuggiasco."

"What?" I ask, having no idea what she just said. She brings her knees up to her chest and hugs them tightly, resting her chin on them. She looks into my eyes and repeats it, "fuggiasco."

"Italian?" I ask. She looks surprised but nods.

"You speak it in your sleep, a lot," I say, as a way of explanation; she blushes bright red. I decide not to ask her about that just yet, wanting to get more important information. I repeat the word back to her.

"Fuggiasco... it means... a runaway, someone escaping, a fugitive," she explains.

"You're not the only one Edward," she adds quietly. I hold my breath and pray that she will continue.

"You were right... that day by the waterfront. I'm... running, as far away as I can." She pauses and takes a deep breath; a tear escapes her eye and rolls down her cheek. I want so badly to wipe it away but resist the urge.

"I took the first train that was leaving for the northwest and ended up here," she says.

"From where?" I ask. She eyes me, and I can tell she isn't sure if she wants to give that much away.

"Phoenix."

"Arizona?" I ask. She nods. I can't believe she came all this way by herself and actually made it.

"Someone hurt you," I say as a statement. Her breath catches and she nods.

"Who are you running from, Bella? Who hurt you?" I ask, she shakes her head hard and tears are now streaming down her face.

"I won't let them hurt you," I say. I can tell that she's starting to panic, and I stop asking questions for the night, not wanting to push her over the edge. I suggest sleep, knowing that no more talking will be done. I'm exhausted myself.

"You're staying?" Her whole face lights up.

"Yeah, I'll sleep on the floor; you can take the bed," I say, throwing a pillow on the dirty floor.

"It's ok. I trust you," she says, her voice still muffled by emotion from our conversation. "I know you won't hurt me; please just sleep in the bed."

I look at the nasty floor, and nod gratefully; she doesn't have to ask me twice. If she's ok with me being in bed with her, then I won't argue. She crawls under the comforter and I decide to just sleep on top of it, to make her more comfortable. We've slept next to one another now for over a month, but being in an actual bed with her is driving me crazy. Her warm body is right next to mine. I lay as still as possible, trying to think of anything except the beautiful girl beside me. I look over at her and can see that she is instantly out, but I can't sleep. After a couple hours of laying in the dark, I hear her start to talk. It's the normal - her pleading for help, or begging for someone to stop hurting her. I don't even think twice before I pull her to me, resting her head on my chest, and she calms almost instantly.

My head is spinning trying to figure out what could have happened to her. The possibilities are making me sick. There's no fighting it; I have become attached, and there's no way I will leave this broken girl. I don't want to anymore. There is a fire raging inside me now that my suspicions have been confirmed. She is running from some fucker that hurt her, badly, and I will kill whomever it is when I find out.

So next week my hubby is taking me to the coast, and I'll have no internet... so there will be no update. The good news is, I plan to write a ton while I'm there!
To make up for the lake of update I'll send a teaser to everyone that reviews!

Have a great two weeks!

Leave me some love and I'll shoot ya a teaser :)