AUTHOR'S NOTE: If you are bothered by domestic abuse situations, please skip this chapter. Thank you in advance.

I had never been more terrified of Jimmy in my life.

He threw himself through my door, forcing me to shuffle backwards away from him. His eyes were burning with anger and his breathing was alcohol laden and ragged. He looked like a wild, rabid animal, so much so I thought he would start foaming at the mouth at any minute. I could feel my blood pumping through my veins and I could hear my heart racing. He had never been this angry before, not at me anyway.

"Wanna tell me why ya felt it necessary to break up with me over the fuckin' phone?!" he screamed, tears beginning to fall from my eyes. His hands gripped onto my arms and pushed me backward toward the kitchen counter, pinning me to the tile counter. "After five fuckin' years you're gonna treat me like that?!" Jimmy's entire body was shaking while his fingers dug further into my skin. I knew there would be bruises after and judging by the force in his grasp they'd last for at least a week.

"Jimmy, calm down!" I pleaded, my eyes clouded over with tears. I tried to rip away from him, but his hold on me was too tight. It was obvious that he'd been drinking through the night and had probably decided to drive to my apartment early that morning. How he'd made the trip in that state was beyond me. I found myself wishing that Daryl hadn't left, knowing that he could have protected me. As I attempted to look Jimmy in the eyes, my voice grew shaky. "I was drunk last night when you called!"

"So tha's some kinda excuse?! That you were wasted?!" He finally released me, pushing away from me to pace inside my apartment. I could feel myself exhale like I'd been holding my breath the entire time. Adrenaline still coursed through me as I mentally prepared for him to come at me again. I looked around for anything that was easily within my reach, just in case.

Sighing, I looked at him and saw his pain. While I was no where near happy with him, I pitied him. Jimmy looked like he'd been run ragged, probably from the bender and couple hour long drive. I tried to put myself in his shoes. How would I have felt if I had called him only for him to drunkenly break up with me?I knew I wouldn't have reacted in nearly the same fashion, but I'm sure the pain would have still been there. Taking a deep breath, I decided to speak to him again, only more calmly.

"No, that's no excuse" I placated. I knew if I agreed with him that he would calm down. Not that I didn't sincerely agree with him, being drunk wasn't any excuse for my actions, but I tried to sound as sincere and remorseful as humanly possible. "You're right, I shouldn't have done that over the phone. That wasn't fair."

Quickly, Jimmy turned on his heels and stared right at me, his icy gaze burning holes through me. My pulse picked up as I watched him cross the room and plant himself before me again. "Ya mean ya shouldn'ta done it at all!" He had cornered me again, pressing his tense and sweat covered body against mine. "You're mine, Beth. You've always been mine."

Before I could do anything, his lips were on mine in a fit of sloppy rage. My hands flew to his shoulders in attempts of getting leverage to push him off, but I couldn't. I began to cry again as his lips moved to my neck and his hands roamed over me. "Jimmy stop!" I screamed, "Get off me! I want you to leave! NOW!" But he just clasped his hand over my mouth to shut me up. I did the only thing I could think of and bit it square on the palm. He yelped in pain, pulling away from me after slapping me across the face. That was the last straw.

"Jimmy, get the fuck out of my apartment!" I commanded. He had done some pretty fucked up things throughout our relationship but he had never struck me and that was the breaking point. I was done being his rag doll. "Leave and never speak to me again! Get out before I call the police!" Angrily I stalked over to the door and threw it open, pointing my hand out the door.

He stood there for a moment in what looked like a state of shock. His fists unclenched and his jaw relaxed as we walked toward me. "Beth I'm sor-"

"No! You don't get to be sorry, not this time!" Using what little strength I had, I pulled him out the door and deposited him into the hallway. Pulling my cell phone from my pocket I locked eyes with him, showing him I meant business. "Now leave, or so help you God." With one last lingering look, he took off down the hall and practically barreled into someone. In my rage I didn't notice who it was until I heard a familiar southern drawl curse at the impact.

When Daryl looked at me, it was as if a fire had been set under him. He ran over to me and looked me over, focusing on my now bright red cheek and the bruises that had begun to set into my pale skin. His blue eyes poured over me as if looking for other injuries. "Wha' the fuck happened?" he asked, his voice laced with concern. Pulling him into my apartment, I slammed the door shut and began to sob uncontrollably. I fell to my knees and soon felt his hand on my shoulder. "Was that yer asshole boyfriend that ran inta me in the hall? Did he do this to ya?" All I could do was nod as I tried to catch my breath. I choked on the words that I was able to utter.

"We- we're thr- through" I spoke weakly as I watched him squat down so he was looking me in the eyes. He gently moved my head to the side so he could look at my face before looking at the bruising from his fingers digging into my arms. I was a broken, crying mess but he pulled me into his arms anyway, holding me on the floor of my apartment while he tried to console me.

"Shhhh" he whispered in my ear as I choked on sobs while leaning against his broad chest. He brought his hand to my head and stroked my hair as he let me cry. "I'm here, and I'm not gonna let anythin' happen to you. Ever."