AUTHORS NOTE: I'd just like to say that this book is far from perfect, I wasn't always in the best headspace during the time I wrote this. It's long overdue for some thorough editing and I'm aware of that. So please be gentle with the criticism, I don't have heaps of time to fix it at the moment.

I can't believe I'm here again.

I know by now exactly what provokes him and how to tip-toe around his temper, but I can never seem to hold myself back when he comes home completely off his face and starts giving my mother a hard time. I always do what I have to do to get him to focus his anger towards me instead of my mother, she deserves so much better than that awful man.

I know she'll never leave him, no matter how bad he may hurt her or even me. She has always relied on men, her entire life. She doesn't know how to function without a man. I'm glad I'm an only child, at least this way I'm the only person who the pair of them can hurt.

I can take it.

I let out a long sigh and take another swig from the bottle of whiskey hanging loosely from my fingers. It burns pleasantly on the way down and I feel more of my worries beginning to disappear, that's the beauty of alcohol.

I grin to myself as I remember swiping the bottle from Jim's personal stash, I hope he realises it's gone.

Jim had come home late tonight, drunk of course, and he'd gone straight for my mother in an all consuming rage. I can't help but wonder why he's always so aggressive when he's drunk.

I had heard his car pull in sometime past midnight and when I'd recognised the all too familiar yelling coming from the kitchen, I'd rushed towards the noise.

I'd arrived just in time to see the bastard push my mother roughly up against the fridge and as soon as I saw the expression of pain on her face I had lost all control of my body.

I saw red as I'd lunged for him, scratching and clawing at whatever bare skin I could get to. But he'd merely laughed and pushed me off of him with ease.

I knew it was no use, he was so much bigger than me, not to mention stronger. But I could never leave my mother to deal with him alone. It was stupid really because although I always stood up for her, she could never return the favour.

Whenever he would yell or hit me she would cower away in fear, sometimes she would just leave quietly. And although I knew it was so so wrong for her to leave me like that I could never bring myself to hate her, she was my mother after all.

Now as I stumble along the long, country road in the dark, I can't help but question my choices as I always do after nights like these. The cool air causes goose bumps to rise on my skin and I shiver involuntarily, wrapping my arms around myself.

My mothers boyfriends have always been jerks but Jim is by far the worst and unfortunately for me, he's been around the longest.

I wish I could leave this disappointment of a town and make a new life for myself some place where I didn't know anyone. And sometimes when I'm alone I fantasise about a perfect world where I could have a lovingly mother and father, some place where I could even go to some fancy art school in the city.

But then I'm pulled back kicking and screaming to the real world and I always have to realise that that's all it is, a fantasy.

After the events of tonight I really didn't want to go home, but I knew I'd have to turn around and face it eventually.

I had no place else to go.

I'm still lost in my thoughts and concentrating all of my attention on putting one foot in front of the other that I don't notice the approaching car until it's headlights are blinding me. I hiss and raise my empty hand to cover my eyes as the vehicle slows until it stops on the side of the road beside me.

I stop my stumbling for a moment to tip the bottle back and take another few gulps.

Whoever's in the car didn't turn their headlights off when they stopped and in the back of my mind, my subconscious is chastising me.

Some random car just stopped beside you and you aren't worried about what kind of creep could be inside?

I ignore her and move out of the headlights, opting to continue on my way and ignore whoever just stopped beside me. I stop in my tracks however when I hear a car door open from behind me and silently cursing my curious brain, I turn.

I have to restrain my traitor jaw from dropping as the stranger steps forward.

He looks to be around the same age as me, with the most gorgeous blonde hair I've ever seen. Dressed in a leather jacket and a red shirt underneath with at least three of the buttons undone to reveal his chest, he radiates confidence and I'm slightly taken aback by the air of intimidation surrounding him.

I can't see his eyes in the dim light, which makes me more unhappy than I would ever admit out loud.

As he finally reaches me I notice a puff of smoke coming out of his mouth and I find myself completely mesmerised by him. He hasn't spoken one word yet and I'm already under his spell.

He looks me up and down slowly before his gaze lands on the bottle in my hand and he raises a brow as I take another sip and slit my eyes, trying to subtly check him out.

He takes a long drag from the cigarette held between two of his fingers before he speaks.

"Now, what's an angel like you doing out this late?" he smirks and the sound of his rough voice was almost enough for my legs to collapse beneath me.

"Oh, you know! I felt like a walk," the slur in my words is painfully obvious and comes as an unpleasant surprise to me.

I must be more drunk than I thought.

His smirk falters as he gets a better look at my face.

Oh, I almost forgot. I didn't look in a mirror before I left but I would imagine that Jim banged my face up pretty bad. The stranger takes another step towards me and I think he says something else but I suddenly can't hear a thing.

My body feels completely numb and I desperately try to get it to respond to me but as I look up at him once more, the edges of my vision begin to blur.

I attempt to take a step towards him but everything suddenly goes black as the gravel road rushes up to me.

* * *

I open my eyes slowly, feeling completely disoriented and for a moment I have no idea where I am. But then I open my eyes wider and I realise I'm sitting in the front seat of a car.

Shit! Did I call Steve again?

I almost sigh out loud in relief when I turn to see who's sitting in the drivers seat, it's not Steve.

Wait... who the hell is he?

I must have said that last part out loud because the guy turns from where he was staring out the window to watch me, a spark of humour in his eyes.

"I would have introduced myself earlier but you fainted at the sight of my amazing good looks."

I stare at him blankly, trying to reach for a memory of him, anything. And with a start I remember, he's the guy who stopped beside the road earlier.

I sit up straighter against the seat and take in my surroundings. It doesn't look like the car has moved at all, which is a relief. After sitting up, I realise with dismay that I'm still very drunk. So not much time must have passed at all.

I finally turn back to the stranger and we both speak at the same time.

"What happened to your face?"

"Who the hell are you?"

The corner of his mouth lifts slightly and my eyes drift unconsciously to his lips.

Oh, how I'd love to kiss those lips.

The thought takes me off guard and I dismiss it quickly, blaming it on my intoxicated brain. When I don't answer his question right away, his arrogant smile fades.

"Look, how about you answer my question and I'll answer yours. Sound fair?"

I find myself nodding along to his words, still watching his lips.

"My name's Billy. Billy Hargrove," he says, smirking when he sees where I'm looking.

I tear my gaze away from his mouth and try to quickly organise my thoughts but they are a jumbled mess. All I do know for sure is that I drank way too much and I really need to get home. So I bring my hands to cover my face and take a few deep breaths, trying to calm my racing thoughts.

"I have to get home," I mumble as my numb fingers claw clumsily at the door handle, trying to get it open.

The boy- Billy sighs and touches my shoulder lightly. Without meaning to, I flinch and snap my head to look at him. He backs off right away, holding both hands in the air.

"Fuck, I'm not gonna hurt you!"

When I keep my mouth closed and don't respond, he sighs again and rakes his fingers through the curls atop his head in what I suppose is a nervous habit.

"I happen to have a soft spot for drunk girls stranded on the side of roads, so just let me take you home, okay?"

I watch him closely, searching for a hint of indecency in his eyes but I find none. Either that or my drunk brain is deciding to trust him because he's hot as hell.

I nod slightly at him finally and he responds by sighing and turning the key in the ignition to pull back onto the road. I mumble directions to him whenever necessary but other than that the drive is mostly silent, with some metal music that I don't recognise playing quietly from the stereo.

He breaks the silence eventually with a surprisingly gentle voice, "Who did that to you?"

I consider ignoring him altogether but find myself answering him before I can fully consider the consequences, "My mothers boyfriend."

He tenses slightly at my answer and I watch in fascination as his hands tighten on the steering wheel.

"He hit you?"

I nod and there's a slight pause.

"Why?"

I shrug, opting out of sharing my life's story with this handsome stranger. He seems to understand that I'm not going to share anything more and keeps quiet for the rest of the ride. When he finally pulls up beside my house he stops me from leaving with a light touch on my shoulder.

"What's your name?"

I turn away and grab the door handle, actually managing to pull it open this time without too much of a struggle. But I stop when I'm standing on the damp grass outside and I turn back to look at Billy.

"Cassandra."

And I'm flying across the lawn to my bedroom window before I can look back and see his reaction. I climb through as stealthily as a drunk person is able to and fall back onto my bed. As soon as my head hits the pillow I'm out cold, dreaming of blonde haired boys in unfamiliar cars.

*  *  *

previous covers: