Was it just me or did this week go by incredibly slow?

People have been asking for alternant POV's. Fuggiasco is written in all EPOV, but I'd be happy to do a couple of outtakes. There's a poll up on my profile so you can vote for the outtake you want and I'll write them as I have time!

This chapter was a hard one for me to write. HUGE thank you to Whatobsession17, Kimmcarr and Jessypt for listening to me second guess myself, over analyze and for going over this chapter multiple times. I love you ladies!

Thanks to everyone that reads, reviews, and pimps this story! I appreciate it more than you know!

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.

***!IMPORTANT!***

THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS GRAPHIC DETAILS THAT MAY BE DISTURBING FOR SOME READERS!
Discussion of abuse, physical and sexual. Drug use and other Adult content ahead.
PLEASE READ WITH CAUTION!

Something that I can confess

Til' all my sleeves are stained red

From all the truth that I've said

Come by it honestly I swear

Thought you saw wink, no

I've been on the brink, so

Tell me what you want from here

Something that were like those years

Sick of all the insincere

So I'm gonna give all my secrets away

This time, don't need another perfect line

Don't care if critics never jump in line

I'm gonna give all my secrets away

- One Republic

EPOV

"Are we... gonna, you know stay - do you want me to stay here, with you?" she asks.

"Absolutely," I say, not missing a beat.

"It's only fair that you know then," she says, pretty much talking to herself, looking down at her lap. She's gone quiet, not continuing when I expected her to.

"Bella, there is nothing, nothing you can say that will make me think badly of you or be angry with you. You can tell me anything," I say, hoping she will hear the sincerity of my words and in my voice. She takes a deep breath and pulls her chair a little closer to mine - not too close though; she still keeps her distance. She crosses her legs underneath her and leans on the table.

"I have never, never told anyone any of this. Promise you'll just let me finish. If I stop, I know I won't be able to finish." I agree even though I know I will have a hard time keeping the promise.

"My name is Isabella Mazzagatti," she says, the name rolls off her tongue with a perfect accent. I repeat the name back to her, making sure I say it right. When she says her name, it's beautiful. I just sound... challenged. She laughs at me and continues.

"I was raised by my mom. We were... best friends," she says, with a smile. It's obvious that she thinks fondly of her mother.

"She was uh, born in Italy. She moved here when she was little with just her mom. Her mom - my grandmother, died when my mom, Renee, was sixteen. The rest of the family was in Italy and she had no one here; she was alone. She met my dad and got pregnant at seventeen. She said that she wasn't in love and couldn't stay with him. She left him before I was born. When I was old enough to understand, she told me that he wasn't ready to be a father and that it was just me and her in this world. She always said, 'Solo tu uno a me,' It's just you and me. She did the best she could with me... she really did," she says with a soft smile.

"Is that how you know Italian? Your mom?" I ask, knowing that I'm already breaking the no interrupting rule, but she doesn't call me out on it.

"Yes, but for a long time, I had no idea that I was speaking Italian. She spoke both Italian and English to me, and her mom did the same thing with her. She told me when I was little that it was our own special language, just for us," she says with a laugh.

"I believed her too; I really thought she had her own language." I laugh with her. So far it sounds like she had a decent childhood. Her mom was a young mother but seemed to do the best she could.

"The day I learned we weren't speaking our own language, but that we were speaking Italian is when I found out about my dad and everything else. We were in New York, and there were so many people speaking our private language; she had to spill then, and she told me about everything."

"Where are you from?" I ask, hoping she won't be upset at me for once again, breaking the no interruption rule.

"Well, I was born in Forks, Washington, but we moved from there when I was really young. We were never in the same place for very long, always less than a year. My mom liked to move around. She said it gave us the opportunity to meet new people and experience knew things. We lived in New York for a while then in the Midwest - you get the idea, we moved a lot." She doesn't seem upset about her childhood; she just accepted it for what it was.

"When I was eleven, my mom... she... uh - well, she got really sick." I could see tears gathering in her eyes.

"She was diagnosed with cancer and was dealing with it all on her own. We moved back to Forks, because she had made some close friends when she lived there while pregnant with me." She pauses and takes a couple deep breaths. I can tell this is where things started to get ugly.

"Her doctor was an old friend; he had a really nice family, and he personally took on her care. We had a nice little house there. I loved my school, and I made some really great friends. About a year passed, and Mom seemed to be healthy. She told me the cancer was gone, and I thought my mom had beaten it. She would go in to the doctor once in a while, but I was under the impression that she was all better. I thought they were just checkups..." She looks out the window, taking a minute before continuing. When she turns back she looks exhausted, like it's taking everything in her to just get the words out. I want to help her but know there's nothing I can do.

"I became best friends with her doctor's kids, Alice and Emmett. We went to school together, and they became like a second family to me. By the time I was thirteen, we had been in Washington for two years, longer than we had ever been in any other location, and I was thriving. I loved the stability of a permanent home, friends and school. I was doing so well in school. I had straight A's for the first time and was so excited to start high school the next year with my best friend." She looks happy for a moment but the smile she had on her face disappears, and I had a feeling it wouldn't return for the rest of her story.

"The night before I started my first day of high school, my best friend - Alice, was her name - we were going through my mom's drawers looking for this pair of earrings I needed; they matched the outfit I wanted to wear perfectly. What we found though, was bottle after bottle of prescriptions. I assumed that they were old." She looks straight at me, "because I thought she was all better," she says, bitterly, shaking her head.

"I looked at the date on the pills and saw they were new; she had just picked them up the day before. When Alice left, I asked my mom about them, and she broke down. She admitted that she was still sick. I felt so... betrayed - tricked." I see a flash of anger in her eyes. Her jaw is locked and she grinds her teeth together. After a minute her features soften again... back into a look of despair.

"We would have talks about it; she started being more open about it. She had been going to the doctor while I was at school; she was wearing a wig to cover her bald head - I didn't even know, Edward - what kind of daughter doesn't even notice?" she asks, a tear escapes her eye. She tears angrily at a piece of paper that sits in front of her. I'm not sure how, but in the same expression she pulls off hurt and anger, the two emotions molding into one.

"If she hid it from you, Bella, there was no way for you to know; you were just a kid." She shakes her head, not believing me.

"After I found out, I tried to take care of her. I stopped hanging out with Alice, and my grades started slipping. Since I knew she was sick, I could see it. I don't know how I missed it before." Her voice starts shaking, her hands ball into fists. I feel so bad for her. I have no idea how I would've reacted in her situation, but I can tell her anger is directed at herself, and I don't like it. It wasn't her fault that her mom lied to her.

"She didn't tell me everything though; she was dying - and fast. She knew but left that out of all our little talks, our bonding time as she always called it. It was about half way through my freshman year, and she was so sick; it was to the point where she couldn't even get out of bed. A nurse would come by everyday and help her. I was suspicious, obviously. She said she was getting better, but I didn't believe her this time. Her doctor was Alice's dad; he was a father to me. I asked him all the time for the truth. He would just look at me sadly and say I had to ask my mom those questions." My heart is breaking for her having to relieve these memories.

"I woke up one morning to go to school and went into her room to say goodbye, like I did every morning. She was... stiff and fucking cold. She was dead; there was no doubt. She died all alone at some point in the night." Tears were flowing out of her eyes and down her cheeks.

It kills me to hear that she went through all of that. I want to lean forward and pull her into my arms, tell her to stop talking. I can see how painful every word is for her to remember, and I want to stop anything that causes her pain. I can't keep myself glued to my chair any longer and I lean forward to reach for her. She leans back a little making it clear that she doesn't want to be touched. It hurts, but I understand. This is something that I can't help her with, that she needs to get off her chest.

"I climbed into bed with her... I uh, cried, begged her to come back, to not leave me." Tears are streaming down her face, and through the tears I can see anger. She was left behind with no warning when there could have been one. I would be angry, too. Fuck, I'm angry just listening to it.

"I went downstairs and sat in the corner behind the front door. I have no idea why I went to that spot, I just did. The nurse came and knocked on the door, but I didn't answer. After about an hour of knocking, she left. The phone rang the rest of the day, but I didn't answer it. I knew it was the nurse or Alice; people were worried that there was no answer at the door. I couldn't move though," she says, looking into my eyes. I see pain so strong in them. Tears continue to escape from her eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Bella." I have no idea what else to say. I lean forward in my chair resting my elbows on my knees. Once again I want to reach for her, but resist. She has both her feet resting on the edge of her chair; she faces me, looking directly into my eyes. I wouldn't be able to look away even if I wanted to. I say I'm sorry again, because I am. She looks away, breaking our eye contact.

"By nightfall, there was another knock at the door, but this time it was the police. They had to actually take the door down 'cause I refused to even acknowledge their presence. They... uh, found my mom before they found me. Carlisle - that's Alice's dad, Mom's doctor - found me behind the door. I lost it, Edward; I knew at that moment that he had known all along.

At fourteen, I didn't understand that he was bound by law - that he couldn't tell me anything. I never saw him as a doctor, though. Carlisle was the closest thing to a dad I'd ever had. I felt betrayed. I was hurt... and angry - so angry. I told him I hated him; I screamed that I wished it was him that had died and not my mom. I flew at him with my fists, and he just stood there. He just stood there, letting me hit him over and over, saying how sorry he was.

Edward, he was a good man, and I said so many horrible things to him." She looks like she's a million miles away, lost in the memory. I can hear the regret in her voice, and I can also see it etched on her face. Her shoulders slump forward, and she stares down toward the ground.

"Bella, he understood. I can guarantee he understood. You were a little kid; none of that was your fault." I want her to believe me so badly, but I can tell by the look in her eyes that she doesn't.

"My mom had scribbled on some fucking notebook, that I was to live with Carlisle and his wife, Esme, when she died. What she didn't bother to do is to look into the legal side of things. My birth certificate lists Charles Williams as my father. She lied about him not being ready to be a father. It's not that he wasn't ready; she just never told him that he was a father, and by law, he had rights to custody. Within two days, I was shipped to Colorado, to live with a man I had never met, that didn't even know I existed." She starts to cry hard. I can't touch her, but I can't just sit here either so I jump up and grab a handful of tissues bringing them back to her.

"Thanks," she says, sniffling. She wipes her nose and eyes before she continues again.

"I was taken to Colorado, away from all of my friends, my school. Alice, and Emmett, and their parents... they called constantly. They even came out once to see me. I refused to see them or accept their calls. I knew they hated me after the awful things I said to Carlisle. I knew if I saw them, or spoke to them, they would just tell me to my face."

"Charlie, he was ok... really, he was pretty nice. He was a cop in Colorado, and he was single. He was divorced, but it happened a few years before I came to live with him. He tried his hardest... I really think he did. Having a child he'd never met thrown into his life, who was angry and hurt..." she trails off. "I think he did the best he could. He had no idea how to be a dad... none at all. I had no idea how to be a daughter to a man; it had always only been Mom and me. She didn't bring men home, and I had never lived with a man before. It was uncomfortable to... share a bathroom... anyway you get it, it wasn't what I was used to."

"A few months into living there, I was still withdrawn. I didn't want to move on, or accept my new life. I was failing school; I hardly ever went. One day when I was skipping, I went to a park. It was close enough to the school that I could walk and was normally quiet, only a few people there. I usually went there when I skipped out.

There was a guy who hung out at the park; he was older. I could tell that. I had seen him there a few times before, sometimes with a girl or a couple guys, but never alone like he was that day." I feel my fist tighten at her mentioning a guy, but it isn't due to jealousy. I know before she even tells me, this is the motherfucker that I'll be hunting down. I try not to get too angry, because I know what she's about to tell me will be horrific. Although her story is sad so far, it wouldn't cause the damage I've seen.

"He started talking to me. He was really... sweet, just listened. I found out that he was Italian, too and he spoke it just a little... poorly, but still, it reminded me of when my mom and I would speak it. I started skipping almost every day and meeting him there. I never told him everything that happened... uh... you're the only one that knows everything," she says, looking at me through her eyelashes. I feel it's wrong, but I'm glad I'm the only one she has ever trusted enough to tell her whole story. I find myself smiling at her, making eye contact with her. I want to acknowledge that I know how important it is - what a huge thing it is - for her to open up to me.

"He knew enough to know what my weak spots were. He knew I was missing my friends, my mother. He knew I didn't really know my father. After a few months of talking, he had me convinced that Charlie didn't have my best interests in mind. I was lonely, weak and easily manipulated. Charlie would get mad at me for... I dunno... skipping school, failing a class."

"What do you mean mad? What did he fucking do to you?" I demand, wondering if I'm missing something. Was her dad the one I should be hunting down?

"Charlie? Nothing," she says clearly surprised by my anger. "He yelled a couple of times, tried to ground me. He really didn't have a clue what to do. I felt bad, even then. I knew he was lost as to what to do with me. I was sure he didn't want me - a moody fourteen year old thrown on him. I just wanted to leave so his life could go on like it did before I screwed it up." I calmed once she explained.

"Anyway, the older guy at the park, he was like, twenty two at the time. He convinced me that I was right, that Charlie didn't want me. I was meeting him every day, and every day I was more and more convinced that I needed to leave, that I was ruining Charlie's life." She was becoming more robotic as she continued her story. She'd been emotional while telling her mother's story, and now it seems like she is putting a wall up. She turns her body away from me a little and brings her hands up to her head, rubbing her temples.

"One day that was particularly bad, the school called Charlie to let him know that I had not been in over a week. Obviously, he was upset. That time though he didn't yell or anything, he just was... quiet. The quiet disappointment was worse than anything else. I went to the park that day and there he was. I was upset and told him what happened. After months of working me up, convincing me that the right thing to do was to leave, he offered me a way out. He told me his family lived in Phoenix; his mother and sister lived there. He told me he spoke to his mother, and she was more than willing to take me in. He said I was like a sister to him," she says with a bitter laugh.

"I trusted him; I felt like he was the only friend I had in Colorado. He treated me like a little sister, listened to my problems, offered a way to help me. I... uh... I thought he cared about me." A tear escapes from her eye, and she violently wipes it away, leaving a red mark on her cheek. I can feel anger radiating off of her.

"So I did it, Edward," she says in an angry rush. "I was so stupid, and I left with him. I didn't even go back to get anything. I was so angry with my mom for... for leaving me that I didn't even get her things. I just stood up in the park and left with him." I was shocked that she would do something so stupid, to leave with someone that she didn't even know.

"He lied about everything except where we were going."

"We went to Phoenix, but, no one knew I was with him; no one ever even saw me speak to him. I assumed that Charlie was just happy to be rid of me, and he wouldn't even bother to look."

"Bella, I'm sure that isn't true," I say to her, but I know I won't be able to convince her.

"What happened after you left?" I ask. I'm not sure I want to know the answer.

"We drove for about one day and then we... uh... stopped at a motel for the night." She's starting to shake, tears filling her eyes. I feel myself get tense, I'm already livid and she hasn't even said what I think she will say yet.

"He..." She stops and covers her eyes with her hands. I can't take it anymore. I know she doesn't want to be touched so I reach out a hand and just rest it on her chair so she can grab it if she wants to.

"He... raped me," she whispers into her hands, her whole body visibly changes, and she looks more vulnerable all of a sudden. She looks completely... broken.

My hands grip the table. Rage consumes me, even though I pretty much knew that's what she was going to say, I wasn't prepared enough to hear it. I feel my whole body heat with anger, and I push it down as much as I can so she can finish her story. I lean back in my chair and rub my hands over my face. My leg bounces; I'm forcing myself to stay in this chair and not throw it through the window.

"I had never even had a first kiss, nothing. Never even held hands with a boy. As soon as we got to the motel he completely... changed. He was mean, violent..." She trails off, not finishing her sentence. I think she thinks my anger is being directed at her, because she starts to defend herself.

"Edward, I tried... so hard... so hard to fight him off. I screamed, kicked, bit him, but he beat the shit out of me. He raped me three times that night. I swear I tried to get away." She's becoming hysterical, so I try to ignore my anger and put her first.

"Shhhh, Bella, it wasn't your fault. There's nothing you could have done to stop him," I say, trying to soothe her. I get up and get her a glass of water, hoping that it will help calm her. She drinks the whole glass, so I fill it up again and sit it in front of her.

"Thank you," she says softly. I thought I wanted to know everything, but now I'm not so sure. I don't want her to have to relive any of this shit.

"Bella, you don't have to go on," I say, giving her a way out. She takes a couple of breaths and looks out the window.

"If you want to listen, Edward, I'll finish. I don't want to have to do this again. I just want to get it out and never have to repeat it again. Promise me that I'll never have to repeat it again?" Her expression is pleading. She could ask me for anything at this point, and I'd give it to her.

"I promise, Bella. Get it out and that's it; you never have to say it again."

"After that first night, he never went back to the way he was at the park. His true self was the evilness he showed in the motel room that night. We got to the house he had in Phoenix, and it was a drug house. I had never seen one before, but I knew right away; it was obvious. There were needles everywhere; it was a mess. He locked me in a room with no windows, and never let me out unless he needed me for something; cooking, cleaning... or you know. He would come rape me, beat me, some nights he would just... stare at me. He would sit on the floor and just stare, mumble crazy stuff about becoming a mob God. He said that he was done with small time and they were gonna be sorry. It just depended on what drugs he did, and how angry he was... he was always so angry." She hasn't seen anger; true anger is what will happen when I get my hands on him.

"Is he involved with the mob?" If that's the case we truly are fucked.

"No, I don't think so. He was so high on those nights. He would just ramble, I couldn't make out most of it. I know he wanted to be, always tried to act like he was in tight with them. From what I gathered though, they used him for what they needed and then treated him like an annoying little... nat, that's what he used to say. I never saw any of this; it's just stuff he would say on random highs."

"What's his name, Bella?" I ask. She hesitates, so I ask again.

"His name?" She is going to tell me.

"Alec. Alec Vultor." So the sick fuck has a name.

"Wait, you said you went with him when you were fourteen?" I ask. She nods.

"Almost fifteen," she says softly.

"Bella, how old are you?" I had guessed around twenty but never knew for sure.

"Nineteen," she says.

"Have you been with him for the past five years?" I ask. She nods, a tear running down her cheek. My god, she has been fucking tortured for the past five fucking years. I feel sick... like I'm going to fucking puke. I breathe deep, and swallow hard to try to calm down.

"Edward, I tried to get away - a lot in the beginning. He locked me up though; I only went out when I was with him. When I was about sixteen, I'm guessing 'cause I never really knew how much time had passed, he took me out to get new clothes... he said he... liked me to wear nice things," she says with a grimace, her voice broken.

"I was able to get alone for one second, and I told the lady at the store I needed help, that I was being held against my will. He took me out of the store and beat me worse than ever before. He broke my ankle that night. He told me that he killed that lady at the store and that it was my fault," she says, gut wrenching sobs tear out of her and she buries her face into her hands. I don't know if he killed that lady or not, but I can tell that Bella believes that he did. As she cries I can see her crying for more than herself, she is also crying for the innocent woman that she believes got killed because of her. It takes a while, but after she calms down, she continues.

"I didn't see the light of day after that for at least six months. He did let me out so I could get back to my chores. I cleaned, cooked, did whatever he wanted me to. Some days he would leave me alone, some days he would walk up and hit me for no reason at all. The rape never stopped." Rage - rage is running through my veins. I'm griping the table so hard I can feel the wood splintering under my nails. I don't know how much more I can hear before I flip the whole fucking table.

"Around the time I was seventeen, he ran out of money. He sold drugs but that was the only job he had. I'm not sure what happened, but I could tell there was some major fallout with his suppliers. I'm not sure if it really was the mob or not, I could never trust anything he said. He was angrier then, and the beatings got worse. I thought that he was going to kill me soon; I was hoping that he would," she adds softly.

"The drugs weren't making him what they used to, and I noticed a lot of girls around more often. He always had some woman around, and there were always a lot of people at the house - druggies. This was different, though. He would shove some poor girl into my room; they would cry and beg for my help. It didn't take long to figure out what he was doing... he was selling them." Sick fuck. I can't believe the girl I have fallen for had been in his sick fucking hands. I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees and my head in my hands. The anger is so overwhelming, and I know if I move, I'll lose control.

"He started selling me too, but just for the night." I'm starting to wonder if the horrors of her story will ever end.

"Those nights were... so bad. He would sell me to some druggie and let them into my room to do what they pleased. When they were... done he would come in and hit and rape me; mad at me for having sex with someone else," she says with a bitter laugh.

"He would beat me and tell me that he owned me." She pauses.

"He didn't need to tell me, I knew it." She looks down, unwilling to meet my eyes. Her voice is week.

"There were a couple guys that were around for all of those years. One guy, Riley, always looked at me with sympathy. Sometimes he would help me with my chores if I was too messed up to do them. He started to buy me whenever Alec was selling me. Riley is the only reason I made it. Those nights he would bring me a burger or something and just talk to me. I learned a lot about him. He had a girlfriend that was pregnant; he had things that he wanted for the future. I asked him one night why he stuck around with Alec."

"He said what I already knew - Alec didn't let people who knew too much just walk out. Riley was saving money to run, but until then he had to think of his girlfriend and their unborn child. Paying... god knows how much, just to keep me safe wasn't helping him get away any sooner." I don't give a fuck how nice this Riley was to her, he was still helping the sick fuck that took her. She may think there's something honorable about him, but he's just as dead as Alec, as far as I'm concerned.

"Things were getting really bad; he was bringing home two or three girls a week and selling them. He was beating me on a daily basis and I wasn't sure how much longer I was going to survive. He had someone come in and do my hair, he bought me new expensive clothing. I didn't even know it was happening, but he was planning to sell me with the next group of girls," she says, as she starts to cry softly. She regains her composure as much as she can, wipes her face with a tissue and takes a sip if water.

"Alec was passed out from booze or drugs, I really don't know. Riley stole his keys to my room and let me out. He knew that if he didn't help me then, it would be too late. He was apologizing for not doing it sooner, but he decided he had to do something before I was gone for good. He gave me a bag filled with his girlfriend's clothing and eight hundred dollars cash. He told me to run and hide. We both knew Alec would stop at nothing to find me. Girls came and went all those years but he always said he would never let me go, and until now he never has; he always found a way to keep me, and I am so scared that he will find me again."

She breaks down. I have no more self control, and I pull her to me and hold her in my lap. I feel a small sense of relief just having her in my arms. I hold her and know she's safe - I tell her she's safe. I just let her cry; she needs to get it out. I look out the window and see the sun rising; we talked all through the night.

I've heard some fucked up shit in my life, but nothing nearly as fucked up as what she just told me. Suddenly everything makes sense - her flinching, always thinking I'll hit her, her robotic, submissive behavior, looking over her shoulder. It all makes fucking sense now, and it makes me sick.

She cries herself to sleep; I pick her up and lay her in bed. I crawl in with her, and she clings to me as if her life depends on it. I lay thinking, processing everything that she told me. I know a few things.

One, we will not be going to the zoo like I had planned while walking home from work. Fuck, if it was only that simple to fix this. Two, I would find this Alec fucker that hurt her and kill him; I want to watch the life leave his eyes. Three, I'm in love with this fragile girl in my arms. I never thought I would be capable of loving another human being. I have no idea if I'll be good at it, or if I'll ever tell her, but I will show her. I will treat her the way she deserves to be treated; I won't hurt her. I will protect her, and I will get us out of this goddamn motel into a real home so she can live the best way possible. I whisper these promises into her ear, trying to chase her demons and nightmares away.

Well there it is, you know a lot about Bella. Now, if we could just get Edward to spill! lol

Don't forget to jump over to my profile page and vote for the outtake you want!

Oh, did you see Eclipse this week? What did you think of it? I saw it and LOVED it! I can't wait to see it again!

Let me know what you think, it makes my week!
See you next Monday!