*********Strong Warning For Violence. This chapter is rated M*********

Hey readers! Here is the next chapter! I hope you enjoy parts of this chapter especially the FourTris parts. :) I am actually nervous about the reception of this chapter due to the content of this chapter if any point of this chapter is too hard for anyone to read, just shoot me a message, and I will give you a general view of what happened to catch up on what happened. Thank you to everyone who reviewed last chapter and to everyone read last chapter. Happy Reading!

Chapter 13 Better Off Dead?

"Damn you, Four! I should have never taken that ride from you today." I mutter to myself.

I liked my daydream much better than the reality of what Drew was telling me. A bang sounds against the wall. I glance out the window, to see Four's black truck sitting in the driveway. I'm already in trouble! Why not go check in on him? I need to make sure he is okay, for some reason. For reasons, I don't know, I feel a pull towards Four's side of the house, as I knock on his door, I take a deep breath, as I hear an angry "Go Away!" screamed.

As another loud bang can be heard with the sound of glass shattering. I feel a pang in my chest for some reason, knowing that Four is upset over Stacy. He shouldn't be. Stacy was awful towards him. He deserves better than her. He needs a friend, someone who he can talk to. I open the door, gently, even though another "Go Away!" is yelled. My eyes find Four sitting on the couch, throwing picture frames, and glasses against the wall. Hard enough that the glass breaks. "I said go away, Tris. I don't want to talk about it. I don't want to talk to you."

"Okay, then I will sit here with you while you break things. You need a friend. Clearly, you shouldn't be alone right now." I say as I sit next to him, wishing that he would talk to me about whatever was troubling him, I place my hand between us, hoping that he will take it, instead of picking up the picture frames that contain pictures of him and Stacy to break.

He is silent for a moment as he looks at a picture of Stacy and him. They look young in the photo, maybe teenagers. Four doesn't even look like himself in the photo, he has longer hair, and Stacy is on his back, both smiling at each other. I whisper to him, "It's okay to mad." He doesn't answer me, instead, he takes the picture out of the frame, rips it up, and smashes the frame against the wall, angrily, the hurt evident in his actions. I watch as the glass slides down the wall to the floor. I don't know what to say to him or how to bring him comfort. I move to stand, to give him time to grieve for the loss of his relationship, that picture showing me how long Stacy and him have been together. He grabs a hold of my hand, keeping me from standing, as he says, "How could I have been so stupid? I was with her for years, and I didn't really know her. She played me for a fool! She slept with people from my flight, people who I was in charge of. No one ever told me about it. I loved her with everything that I had, but I don't think, she ever really loved me. I gave her everything of myself. I have nothing left to give to anyone. She took my heart, and just stepped on it without a care in the world. I would have killed, moved heaven and earth for that woman, but Stacy, I don't think she would have done the same for me. Did you know that she was still cheating on me?" He asks, with tears in his eyes, as he throws another glass frame with a picture. The frame has a black and white photo of Four and Stacy. Him in his Air Force fatigues and her on his back. Both smiling at a camera, a happier time in their lives.

"It's okay if you did. I understand, why you didn't say anything. She probably told you not to tell me, or it was some sort of girl code thing."

"Four, I-"

"No, I don't want to hear, I'm sorry about a failed relationship. What I want, is a nice stiff drink. Now tell me where Stacy keeps the good stuff. I can't find it anywhere."

As I head into the kitchen to find the whiskey that Stacy kept in the cabinet hidden with a tumbler, I look back to Four who is staring at the floor, dejectedly. I wish I could make him feel better. I wish I could fix this for him, but only time can heal his heart. I come back out with the full bottle of whiskey and a glass tumbler. "Where's yours?" He asks when he notices only one glass.

"Oh, I'm not drinking."

"Yes, you are because I'm not drinking alone."

"Fine." I grab another tumbler, one of the only ones that he hasn't destroyed, and pour us both whiskey.

As he slams back his full seventh glass. He turns to me sayings "Why couldn't I have found you earlier in life and avoided Stacy all together?"

"You don't want me, Four. I'm damaged goods." I say, staring into his dark blue eyes.

"I don't think, you are damaged goods. You are beautiful. Definitely not damaged goods. " He says, softly, running his fingers gently, over my cheek, leaning closer to me. My breath hitches as his forehead touches mine, our eyes meet, I never noticed how blue his eyes were before, not until I was this up close to them. He says, "I have been dreaming about doing this since O'Hare, since the morning I woke up with you in my arms, and put my phone number in your book." He lips lightly brush mine. He tastes like whiskey, his lips are soft, and I am taken aback by the motion. I pull away from him, he continues to follow me until my back hits the back of his couch. His lips press into mine again, as his fingers slide into my hair. My fingers slide into his hair trying to pull him closer to me, not wanting the moment to end. My mind screaming that I'm not dreaming, this is real. I am actually kissing Four.

I break the kiss saying, "Four, we can't do this. You are drunk. You will regret this come morning."

"Am not and will not." He laughs, sadly.

"Prove it. Count backwards for me from 100. Prove that you aren't wasted right now." I say, slowly.

"100, 99, 98, 97, 95, 89,86, 83. . ."

"Okay. I think you have had enough of this." I say, taking the bottle away from him. The glasses, I place them on the table next to the couch. A pout mars his lips. At that moment, he looks cute as he rapidly flutters his eyelashes at me through his thick-rimmed glasses. I bite my bottom lip to try to keep from smiling, as he lays down on the couch, patting the space next to him as I look at him. "Four-" I whisper as he pulls me down next to him, his body curls around mine. I feel safe at that moment, but I know that moment of safety will pass as Peter will be home shortly. If Peter catches me over here with Four, I am in trouble, more trouble than I am already in. After Four falls asleep, I take his glasses off, place them on the table next to the couch, put a blanket over him, pick up some of the glass shards, write him a quick note; something about if he needs to talk I am next door, and then I leave his house, quietly.

When Peter comes home that night, he is angry and drunk, just like Drew warned. He yells, screams at me. He tells me that I am ungrateful, no good for nothing. He tells me he should throw me out on the street. He grips me by the arm roughly as I try to talk my way out of what happened with Eaton giving me a ride home as he tosses me down to the floor, he asks into my ear, "Did you accept a ride home from Eaton because you wanted to make me jealous? Was I not paying enough attention to you? Do you not like my nice side anymore? You like me being mean to you all the time? Is that it?"

"No, Peter, I'm sorry. It won't happen again." I cry as he takes a gun from his pants, holding it to my head, he says in a low voice "I should end your pathetic life. You and Caleb are just a waste of space, and a waste of my time."

"No, please Peter. I promise. I won't make you upset again." He shakes his head angrily as he says "You are too late with that apology. It is time for you to learn a lesson, for real this time." He puts the gun away, instead of walking away like normal after threatening me. Peter turns around and hits me in the face. It stings. He doesn't stop after the one hit. Peter hits me several times. He throws me around like a rag doll. I try not to show any emotion as he hits me over and over again, knowing that my emotion will only fuel his anger more. I try to dissociate from the situation, but the pain becomes too much as I am thrown to the floor, I lose consciousness.

I wake to dried blood coming from my nose. My eyes are puffy, black, and blue. I have marks all over my body in the shape of handprints. I think Peter broke my nose, and maybe a few ribs too. My eyes hurt, they are swollen almost shut. It hurts to breathe. I wish that I would die, or Peter had killed me.

"Help." I croak. No one comes to help me. Peter is long gone. I gather as much strength as I can as I yell "Help!" again, hoping that maybe Four will hear me.

I hear ruckus outside the front door. Four's body slams through the locked door. His face is violent with rage when he notices me on the floor. His eyes soften as he sees me, he quickly walks over to me, he gently lifts me, saying "Tris, what the hell happened? Who did this to you?"

I don't answer him. It hurts too much to breathe, little alone speak, as Four whispers gently, "You are safe. Let me bring you somewhere to get help, Tris, please. This needs to be reported."

"No, I can't report this. He will kill me." I say, tearfully, fearfully, terrified of Peter, and what will happen if I do report it.

"Tris, he needs to go to jail, no man should ever lay hands on a woman no matter what. If he beat you this badly this time, next time he may just kill you." Four says sternly.

"I can't, Four. Peter didn't mean it. He was upset about something that I did, and even if I do report him it will do no good. Peter is in the mob. He has connections. The mob will find me and kill me. I need to protect my brother, Caleb, from those mob connections. If I don't behave then Peter will kill my brother and make me watch. I don't have anywhere else to go or to live." I whisper as the tears flow out of my eyes, thinking about Caleb dying in front of my eyes, the fact that Peter already tried it once and failed.

"Live with me. I'm not going to leave you alone with this monster. We will figure out how to deal with Peter together."

"Live with you? I'm not going to live with you Four. I barely know you. You could be a serial killer for all I know." I say seriously.

Four smiles at me slightly as he says "I'm not a serial killer. If I'm a serial killer then your boyfriend is a saint."

"Ha. That's not funny or true. Take me to the hospital, and I will think about it if it will stop your talking. Help me up, will you?" I grumble before I can even finish my sentence Four has me in his arms, carrying me to his truck. He says "You are going to live with me because there is no way in hell I am letting you come back to live in this situation!" The panic evident in his voice as he gently places me in the seat of his truck, and I wince as the pain becomes even more noticeable in my ribs. He runs around the front of the truck, speeding to the hospital.

Once we get to the hospital, I get embarrassed in the ER having to face some of my co-workers, and I think about telling a lie. Something about falling down stairs, from tripping over my own two feet, but as soon as I start to speak, I can see Four's face harden, the disappointment beginning to etch on his brow. I take a deep breath and begin at the beginning. I tell the doctors, nursing, social services, and the police everything about Peter. All about his physical, verbal, and emotional abuse throughout the years. The police officer, who takes my statement, tell me that they will issue a warrant for Peter's arrest, and when he asks, if I have somewhere safe to stay until Peter is taken into custody. I say, "No." glancing at my feet ashamed, that I let Peter treat me the way he did for as long as he did. I feel ashamed that I wasn't strong enough to handle him on my own without help from outside sources.

"Yes, you do," Four says standing next to me. "We already decided. You can stay with me on base. I have already told you that." The cop looks at me, making sure that I am okay with that decision as I shake my head yes, wondering if I am crazy, going to go live with someone who I barely know to stay safe, wondering if Four is the right option. Maybe I should go stay in a shelter and hope that Peter doesn't find me.

The x-ray results come back, and the doctors determine that I have four broken ribs thanks to Peter and a broken nose. The doctor prescribes me pain medication, then gives me a pamphlet on a clinic that deals with counseling for victims of domestic abuse, locally. I thank her as she discharges me from the hospital.

I feel drowsy from the pain medication as Four carries me out of the ER, his arms wrapped around me protectively, my head leans against his solid muscular chest, my eyes flutter closed, as he places me back into his truck.

What do you think? Please review. What do you think of Four and Tris's first kiss? Was it what you expected? Do you think Tris is crazy for going to stay with Four to have a safe place to stay? Anyways starting this chapter I contemplating changing the rating of this story from T to M, but I'm not sure. The rating is something that I always struggle with on fanfiction. Any suggestions would be helpful to me. Next chapter will be up the weekend of November 10. See you all then.