May 13, 1989

**Hope POV**

If you'd asked me even a few short months ago if this is what I foresaw my life becoming, I'm sure I would've laughed in your face thinking you surely had to be joking...unfortunately at the moment, this is my reality, and I'm having to deal with it. What on earth did I ever do to deserve this?

Hindsight is always 20/20 and if I'd known what I was in for the first time I met Damien, I would've run the other way screaming.

__

You see...I had a cushy job working as an Emergency Room dispatcher at Central Texas Hospital in my hometown of Bartlett, and had inherited my family home after I lost my parents to a hit and run collision at the tender age of 18.

Funny how at 18 you think the world is your oyster and that nothing bad will ever happen to you...until it does. Things were looking pretty bleak for a while after that, leading me to suspend my studies for a while until I managed to put the pieces of my broken life back together.

Luckily I had some great friends who saw me through some of my darkest days, and eventually things started looking up. Even though I had no remaining family, I had a whole community rallying around me and I had never been happier...until a couple of Christmases ago I was invited by a friend to attend the policeman's holiday ball.

It was the biggest event in town...anyone who was anyone was in attendance, and I was ecstatic. I spent the night mingling with some of the most powerful people in town...when suddenly my friend, Karen pointed out that she noticed someone checking me out.

She's a bit of a jokester so I half expected to see some middle aged stereotypical donut eating cop hoping to get lucky, but instead my eyes connected with the best looking guy in the room and he offered me his most dazzling smile. Oh my god...

Karen leans over and whispers in my ear, before nudging me in his direction "I hear his father is the chief of police..."

He meets me halfway across the room and offers me his arm, and with a grin asks, "May I have this dance?"

__

It was probably the most magical night of my life so far, and the honeymoon didn't end there. It seems he did everything he could to charm the pants off of me and for the first time in my life I fell...hard.

Before I knew it...I'd sold the family home at his urging, and the two of us had moved in together. I thought this would be the beginning of the next part of our lives together...and for a while it was.

One day a few weeks later he asked me to marry him, and I was walking on cloud nine. My friends tried to urge me not to rush into things since we'd only known each other a short time, but I was in love...and sometimes love can make you do things you ordinarily wouldn't do.

Suffice to say, just a few short weeks later we were married in a quiet ceremony with his father officiating. In fact, the wedding was so small that the only people in attendance were us, his dad, his mom, his best friend on the force, Brad, and my friend, Karen, who was responsible for introducing us in the first place.

And that's where the honeymoon ended...once that ring was on my finger, my dream life slowly started to turn into a nightmare.

In fact, it happened so slowly that I didn't even realize what was happening at first. It all started when shortly after we were married, he started telling me that no wife of his should have to work...that with his recent promotion to detective, he could easily take care of both of us.

I resisted at first as I loved my work, and found it so rewarding to play any small part in helping people. However his persistent phone calls while I was at work checking up on me eventually took their toll.

I asked him to stop calling me at work as the line needed to be free for emergencies, but calls continued coming more and more frequently. When I'd confront him about it, he'd simply tell me how much he missed me while I was away at work. Eventually despite my best efforts to the contrary, his repeated calls cost me my job...but when I tried confronting him about it, he told me that it was probably for the best, and that he made enough money to take care of both of us.

While this upset me at first eventually I settled into the role of homemaker, and started associating with the wives of other policemen on the force.

Things seemed to be okay for a while...at least until one day when he started screaming and yelling in my face, accusing me of talking down about him to everyone...including the other police wives...and that he couldn't be having that. Being son to the police chief meant that certain appearances had to be kept after all...

While I denied his accusations vehemently he became increasingly belligerent by the day, and in order to try to keep some calm in the house I started turning down invitations to visit with everyone...even some of my oldest and best friends...until one day, the invites just stopped coming.

Sadly though the accusations continued to fly until one day they finally came to a head...with him slapping me clear across the face.

Of course after that happened he was all kinds of apologetic swearing it would never happen again and fool that I was, I believed him. Things were better after that...for a few weeks at least.

I never told my friends any of this was happening as by this time I hadn't been in contact with them in weeks, and I felt too embarrassed that something like this could actually be happening...and to me no less!

Little did I know though, this would be the calm before the storm.

After a few weeks of him trying to make it up to me, the verbal abuse slowly started ramping up again, and I did everything possible to stay out of his way...but despite my best efforts things continued to escalate.

Things eventually came to a head when following a particularly heated argument, he shoved me headfirst into the living room wall. All I could see were stars before everything went black.

When I finally came to he was waiting for me...telling me that I'd better not ever tell anyone what happened but that even if I did, it'd make no difference. No one would ever believe a tramp like me anyway. It'd be my word against his...and he's the police chief's son...

Feeling powerless and embarrassed, I decided to keep my mouth shut...and a few weeks later, it didn't matter anyway as he started disappearing for days at a time...for which I was thankful.

For the first time in months, I started trying to live my life again...going out shopping, having the occasional coffee date with friends I hadn't seen in weeks.

I started to become complacent, and thought that maybe the worst was finally over...until one day I went to leave the house, only to realize that the door wouldn't open. Thinking something must be wrong with the knob I went to try the back door, but it was the same thing.

At this point I started to panic...but I didn't get a chance to investigate further that day because moments later, he was home.

In an effort to calm my nerves, I decided to ask him about the locked doors. Turns out that was the worst thing I could've done as before I knew it, he started attacking me...not just with his words, but with his fists.

"Don't you dare question me, you bitch!" he screams, punching me square in the nose. All I could hear was crunch...my nose crumbling into my eye sockets, the taste of blood pooling into my mouth.

"That'll teach you to learn your place!" he continues manically. This time his fist hits me square in the boob, and I double over in pain.

"I'm sorry, Damien...you're hurting me, please stop." I cry out pitifully, but unfortunately all he can see is red.

The last thing I see is his steel toe shoe coming toward my stomach. I fall backwards with the impact...my head banging against the wall, and then everything went black.

__

I finally came to hours later, with my body still slumped on the floor where I'd fallen. When I tried to slowly make my way back to my feet, my legs buckled out from under me...my body bruised and battered.

I'm not sure exactly how long I'd lain there but it was nightfall, the living room so dark I couldn't even see my hand in front of my face. The only noise I heard was that of my own laboured breathing.

I had no way of knowing if Damien was still in the house or not...and in my condition I had no way of protecting myself if he was, so I did the only thing I could do. I stayed put...and kept my mouth shut.

Eventually I passed back out, and when I finally woke up it was daybreak. The first thing I noticed was the sickly sweet smell of blood under my nose...leading the events of the night before to replay again in my mind like a bad dream.

This time when I gingerly moved to stand, my legs were still shaky...but this time they managed to hold my weight and I slowly made my way to the bathroom, bracing myself against the wall the entire way there to survey the damage he'd done.

My first look in the mirror had me gasping in horror, hand against my chest. This simple action though had me wincing in pain, and when I lifted my shirt I noticed my entire chest and stomach covered in bruises. As I gently prodded the bruises to assess the damage, I found a few particularly tender spots over my ribs that almost took my breath away at the lightest touch.

With a grimace of pain, I slowly made eye contact with my reflection again. This time the shock value was gone, but I almost didn't recognize myself as my nose was badly broken, my lip was split pretty badly, and both my eyes were swollen almost shut.

By the time I was finished assessing the damage, I finally came to the realization that I needed to get out of here...and I needed to do it fast. Who knows what he might try the next time...

Despite the pain I felt all over I decided to try the doors again, finding them sealed as tight as they were yesterday so I decided to try the windows, only to find they were sealed shut too. Why is this happening to me?!

Finally I was forced to realize the severity of my situation...I was badly injured, and I was trapped. Claustrophobia started to set in, and in sheer frustration and panic I started to scream...

Eventually I calmed down enough to think about trying to use the phone for help, but when I picked up the receiver there was no dial tone. That was when I really started to become afraid.

Unfortunately in situations like this you're not exactly able to think rationally...and with my body as broken as my spirit, it never struck me to try breaking a window to escape. However I now knew that Damien was responsible, and that I had to find a way out of here as soon as I was physically able.

Somehow I managed to keep myself calm; while I rested my body, my brain went into overdrive formulating a plan. Not leaving anything to chance I wrote everything down, memorizing it until I knew it backwards and forwards before finally flushing the paper down the toilet, ensuring he'd never find it.

When he got home that night despite the pain that my body was still in, I did everything in my power to remain calm...hoping he wouldn't realize anything was different.

I made dinner for him before preparing myself for what he's taken to calling my 'wifely duty' the few days he actually decided to come home...which at this point, I'd started to grit my teeth and bear knowing that normally, once he was finished with me, he'd head out for some drinks with his buddies before coming back plastered and blacking out for the remainder of the night. The only difference this night was that he decided he wanted to play rough...something he did every once in a while just to get a rise out of me.

I did my best to play along, but I could tell he sensed something was up when he was even more aggressive than usual...to the point of choking me until he finally found his release.

As he was slowly making to leave, he tossed me a withering look before throwing a loofah at me, telling me that good women need to be clean for their man and that when he came back, I'd better be clean and ready for the fucking of my life.

From that moment on, I decided once and for all that I was done. I was getting out of that house, and I was doing it tonight. I didn't care what it took.

The last I heard of him was his feet stomping down the hall before the door eventually slammed shut. I stayed still for a few moments...until I heard his truck start up and screech its way down the street.

With my escape plan in the forefront of my mind, I started putting things into action. With Damien I never knew for sure how much time I had to myself when he left, so I knew if I wanted to leave I had to make it quick. I threw on the first set of clothes I could find, wincing with pain in my ribs as I pulled my shirt over my head.

I knew where he kept some of his spare cash, so I quickly pocketed however much money was there...not even taking the time to count it.

He'd tried thinking ahead, hiding anything he thought I could use to break a window and escape but I managed to get creative...using a living room lamp he'd foolishly thought was too heavy for me to lift to break my way through the kitchen window. Even though it took every ounce my remaining strength, I somehow managed to lift it. Its funny how much of a motivator fear can be...and obviously he'd underestimated me...

All I needed to do from that point was climb onto the kitchen counter to escape out the window into the backyard. Despite my injuries, my desperation reigned supreme and I quickly vaulted my way onto the counter and out the window.

I briefly lost my footing, my ass taking an abrupt jolt onto the soft grass of the backyard, before quickly regaining my footing, dashing across the backyard and gingerly vaulting over the fence to freedom.

With all the police connections he had, I knew I had to leave town immediately if I wanted any chance of escaping his clutches. It was only a matter of time before he realized I was gone, and the search would be on.

His family had such a good reputation in town that I knew all it would take would be for him to file a missing persons report, and I would be deposited right back on his doorstep...and subject to his wrath.

Given my shaky relationship with the few remaining friends I had, there was no way I could trust they'd keep their mouth shut if they saw me...and with everyone knowing everyone in this town, I knew I wasn't safe here any longer...

That's how I made the decision to quietly make my way to the nearest Greyhound station, and purchased a ticket on the last bus out of town that evening. The ticket agent gave a jarring look at my appearance, but I offered no explanation and said very little. It turned out that I had just enough money to board the bus to its final destination....Minneapolis.

Up to this point in my life I'd never left Texas, so Minneapolis sounded as exotic to me as Paris or Rome. Afraid of being spotted I kept to myself for the half hour before the bus started boarding, staying as inconspicuous as possible until after the bus finally pulled away into the night. I'd done it! Freedom was mine at last!

__

That's how I managed to find myself thousands of miles from home, alone in a city that seemed as foreign as it sounded.

Unfortunately I hadn't thought out just what I would do once I got here, and I was still afraid that with all the connections Damien had in Bartlett that he'd manage to find me somehow.

That meant keeping as low of a profile as possible...and for a woman with not a cent to her name, and only the clothes on her back that didn't leave me a lot of options.

I'd already been here a week, and I had no more clue how to proceed than I had when I first got here. My bruises were slowly healing and I was no longer wincing in pain every time I took a breath, but things were still looking bleak.

However, I was finally free...and that was all that mattered.

Ultimately I found myself wherever I could find shelter, whether it be in a 24 hour truck stop washroom, an abandoned building, or using a false name and keeping to myself in a local homeless shelter.

It wasn't a glamorous life by any means...I hadn't been able to have a decent shower since before I left home. However for the first time in months I was free of Damien and his abuse, and I meant to keep it that way....even if it meant finding myself in situations like the one I found myself in today...

At this point, I hadn't eaten in two days, and suffice to say I was starving...and desperate.

I did my best to keep hidden from view, both out of fear and sheer embarrassment as I find myself eyeing the dumpster as my stomach emits a loud growl. Funny how much fear can humble you... I think to myself, looking both ways to ensure no one was in sight before prying open the lid...

Luckily I didn't have to dig far before my hand came in contact with a half-eaten hamburger, still inside its wrapper. I guess beggars can't be choosers...

I slowly remove the wrapper from the burger, quickly inspecting it, and preparing to scarf it down when suddenly I heard a faint noise behind me. "Mew..."

Is that what I think it is...? I look behind me quickly, but don't see anything at least at first. As my stomach starts to growl yet again, I turn my attention back to the burger in anticipation of my first meal in days when I hear the noise again...even more pitiful sounding than before. "Meeooww...."

This time when I turn around I spot a tiny, sickly looking orange cat, so skinny its ribs were protruding from its sides. "Meeeeooow..." it cries again plaintively, eyes locked on my burger.

"Awww...you poor thing. You look like you need this more than I do." I murmur softly, breaking off a piece of my hard won meal and tossing it in the general direction of the scrawny looking thing.

Though I'm starving myself, I can't help but to feel sorry for this poor little thing. She looks like she's had it even worse than I have...and much to my surprise her eyes meet mine with a grateful look before she slowly makes her way toward the scrap I've tossed her, gobbling it down hungrily before meeting my eyes again with a plaintive look. "Meeeoooowww...."

My own hunger and fear forgotten for the moment, I turn my attention to helping out this pathetic looking creature.

I'd let down my guard for just a moment, but it turns out that's all it took for me to somehow miss the clacking sound of heels headed in my direction.

By the time I realized someone was there and tried to hide...slowly wedging myself behind the dumpster and out of sight it was too late. I'd been spotted...and my new feline friend made a run for it. Dammit!

"Miss?" I heard a masculine voice say softly from the other side of the dumpster. This stranger slowly made his way toward me, his golden eyes meeting mine with a gentle look. "Why are you hiding back here...are you okay, mama?"

**Author's Note:  It's funny how quickly what was meant to be a short exchange fic can get away from you.  I hope you all enjoyed the first chapter.  Will be a little bit before I can work on chapter two...work is pretty much kicking my ass atm...however, for those of you interested in seeing what happens next for P & Harmony, stay tuned as I'm hoping to update that story early next week.**