Chapter One

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns any Twilight characters that may appear in this story. No copyright infringement is intended. The remainder is my original work.

So I wrote this O/S for the Fandom Fights Autism campaign. I have no intentions of continuing it as of now, but if you like it and would like to see more…let me know and I will see what I can do.

Please be aware…there is talk of sexual assault and abuse ahead.

Enjoy

The door slammed shut behind her as she ran into the unfamiliar space. The fact that the door was unlocked seemed like a sign. Every space was unfamiliar to her now, but she had no choice. If they found her she would be taken back, and at this point anything was better than that. Her life had not been her own since she wandered down that dark alley four months ago, and now that her 'training' was complete, they had decided she was ready for the real thing. It had been easier than she thought it would be to get away from her captors. They were always less observant after a romp with the other girls, and the fact that the drinks and mind alerting substances were always within reach made it even less of a challenge. They thought they had beat her into submission. The days and weeks of starvation and sleep deprivation had only strengthened her resolve to find a way out of there. And now, huddled in the back of what she thought was a bakery, it seemed that she might have just done that.

Her body trembled as she sat crouched next to an industrial-sized oven. She wished it was on so she would be able to absorb some of the heat it would produce. She was still dressed in the meager scraps of clothes they had put her in that afternoon when they told her she would be entertaining her first client that evening. She had been waiting for that last dignity to be taken from her long ago, but apparently the going rate on a virgin was more than her captors could pass up.

While on the outside she played the meek submissive, inside she was plotting her escape. Now, free from there leering gazes and the disgusting sounds of the other girls earning their keep in the other rooms of the house, her tears flowed. Her tiny hands pressed against her mouth, trying in vain to keep the sobs quiet. She had run for what felt like miles after she bolted from the house, only stopping when she assumed she was far enough away. At only eighteen years old, she had been beaten within an inch of her life over and over again in an effort to wipe her former life away. Only her stubbornness had kept that from happening. While it had taken all of the other girls in the house only a week to adopt their new identity, Isabella Swan fought. When her captors would douse her with freezing cold water and smack her with a wooden paddle, she would only recite her name over and over. She would bite her tongue to keep from screaming when they would extinguish their cigarettes on her belly or pull her hair until it came out in clumps. It was not until they brought in the youngest captive, a girl whose name had once been Alice, but had been brainwashed into believing their lies and now answered to Maria, that her resolve faltered. The girl was barely a teenager, and Isabella had been holding her breath waiting for the day they sent her on her first job. Maria stood calmly as they pulled Isabella up by the hair, making sure she could see what was about to happen. They wrapped a rope around Maria's slender neck tightly, yet the girl did not make a sound. Even as her eyes bugged and her lips turned slightly blue from the lack of oxygen, she stood still and calm. Tears slid down Isabella's face as she watched the young girl drop to her knees, the life slowly fading from her before she cracked.

"Stop! I'll do whatever you want, be whoever you want…just stop." She begged, and through her tears she saw the life return to the little girl, and wondered if it would not have been better to have just spared her what was sure to come.

The thoughts of Maria and the other young girls propelled her off of the floor and deeper into the bakery. She needed to find a way to contact her father. He was a police officer and somehow she had to believe he could help her get the other girls out. She knew it would be pointless for some of the older women, whose real lives were only shadows to them now. They were in too deep, the years of sex and drugs were the only things they knew. But the girls like Maria, she knew she could save them.

She spied a phone on the wall by the swinging door she assumed led to the front of the bakery. It was still dark enough that she figured the space would stay empty a while longer, at least until she made this one phone call. The dial tone sounded like freedom as she raised the receiver and her shaky fingers pressed the number that had been ingrained in her brain since she was a little girl. She listened to the ringing of the phone, praying that her father was home sleeping and not working. She had been trying to talk him into an answering machine for months before she was taken, and as the rings continued she realized he still had not caved to the progression of modern technology. She slowly lowered the phone back to the cradle and sunk to the floor. She knew if she called the police here, there was a chance that she would get one of the dirty cops her captors had at their beck and call. More than once she had seen the familiar blue uniform come in the front door of the house, only to have her hopes of a rescue dashed as his rough hands pulled one of the girls up from the couch and pushed them into the back room. No, her only hope was waiting until she could get in touch with her father.

She stood up and walked around the perimeter of the room, looking for someplace where she might be able to hide out when the business opened in a few hours. She did not want to have to go back out to the streets and try to find another shelter. Just as she found an old staircase behind a door, she heard movement behind her. She threw herself onto the stairs and pulled the door closed just as lights flashed behind her. She kept the door open a crack so she could see.

**()*()**

He cursed as he found the back door unlocked again. How many times had he drilled it into Seth's head that he needed to make sure everything was locked up when he left for the night? Ever since his bakery had taken off, Edward had been able to hire more staff and not work from open to close everyday. The fact that he was unable to trust said staff made his blood boil. He whipped out his cell phone as his eyes scanned the kitchen for any sign that someone had been in there. When Seth's voice, groggy with sleep picked up, Edward did not even try to hold back his anger.

"Did you forget to do something last night?" He growled into the phone. Seth was instantly alert and apologetic as he said all of the right things to his boss. Edward let him hang for a few minutes before calmly explaining, once again, the importance of making sure everything was secure before they left for the night. Seth was full of remorse and promises that it would never happen again. After ending the call, Edward dropped his head to the prep table and banged his fist against the unforgiving metal surface. Had it not been so quiet, he would have never heard the startled gasp that originated from across the room. His head whipped up at the sound and he stared at the partially open door that led up to the storage room. He walked slowly to the opening, hearing the strangled breathing from whoever was inside the stairwell. Inside his head he was telling himself that he should have just called the cops and have them deal with the intruder, but as he got closer, the pathetic sobs got louder.

He would never forget the sight that met him when he swung open the door. The girl was slender, far too thin for her height. Her hair was dirty and matted with filth, but he could see it was long and would be a brilliant color brown when clean. She was dressed, if you wanted to call it that, in a pair of red panties and a white tank top, her feet were bare, dirty and bloody. He had yet to see her face since she kept it buried in her hands, her shoulders slumped as if trying to make herself smaller. He crouched down in front of her and tried to gently tug her hands away from her face. The second his skin made contact with hers they both jumped back. He was surprised by the chill her skin held while she was startled at the warmth and tenderness in his touch. She slowly brought her head up and they each gasped as her wide brown eyes met his shocked green ones. Never in his life had Edward seen eyes so soulful and broken. He wanted to wrap her up in his arms and take her pain away. He could see her body better now that she was not so wrapped around herself. The scars and marks that littered her perfect alabaster skin helped explain her posture and behavior.

Edward sat back on his heels as he folded his hands in his lap. He was approaching her as if she were a wounded animal, which was a pretty good description of how she felt at that moment. She waited for him to reach for her again, to use his overwhelming strength and size to pull her from her hiding spot and do what he wanted with her. Wasn't that what every man did? She remembered her father being kind and gently, but all she had seen for the last four months was the evil side of men. He looked over her body, but instead of the hot lust she had seen before, his jade eyes were gentle and kind. She wanted to throw herself into his arms and have him take it all away. He was the first to break the silence.

"Did you come in through the back door?" He asked quietly, his voice sounding like honey melting over a warm biscuit. She nodded her head, her jagged fingernails scraping at the rough wood of the steps below her.

"Are you alone?" Again, another nod.

"Are you in trouble?" She hesitated this time. Was she in trouble? Yes she was. But she was hesitant to allow this gentle stranger to be pulled into what her life had become. If he would just let her use the phone and call her father she could save him from being dragged down with her. Just as she opened her mouth to speak, the back door banged loudly, startling both of them. It only took Edward one look at her tear filled, petrified eyes to push the door closed and press his back against the wood, protecting her. The clicking of heels brought his eyes over to the door as he watched his manager, Rose, strut through the kitchen.

"Running a little late, huh Edward?" Rose joked as she looked around the empty space. By the time she came in he usually had the bagels up and had started on the scones and muffins. She took in his aggressive posture as he leaned back against the storage room door and the lack of activity in the kitchen.

"Something wrong?" She asked with an arch of her perfect blonde eyebrow. He shook his head as he reluctantly moved away from the door. He needed to get things up and moving before he would be able to deal with the mystery girl on the steps. At least he knew she was safe in there.

The morning rush started soon after the doors opened. Edward dashed through his usual prep work and soon the smell of warm raisin bread, cinnamon muffins and onion bagels permeated the air. During a lull in the action, he nonchalantly walked towards the door, his warm fleece coat in one hand and a bag of muffins in the other. With an eye on the swinging door, he knocked quietly before opening the door a crack. He tossed in the jacket and the bag quickly before easing it shut again. He could not stop his heart from stilling in his chest as he heard her soft 'thank you' before he moved back to the bread dough he had been working on.

His day continued that way. When he had a quiet moment, he would thrust a bottle of water or a blueberry bagel into the stairwell, only to be given her quiet gratitude. He called Seth and told him he had the night off, wanting to make sure he was in the kitchen at all times in order to keep his visitor safe until the bakery closed for the night. It was not that he did not trust his employees, but he feared that introducing anyone else to the girl might scare her off.

Finally the last of his goods were either purchased or sent to the food kitchen down the street. He sped through the clean up and prep for the next morning, and made sure all of the doors were locked before heading towards the stairwell. He slowly opened the door after a quiet knock. She sat on the third step, her tiny body dwarfed by his coat. She had collected the trash from her meals into one bag, her stomach filled for the first time in months. She had listened to him work all day, his quiet humming lulling her to sleep more than once. She wanted to trust him, to be safe with him. He had done nothing to show he would be cruel to her, but still she hesitated to take his hand when he offered it to her. She looked up into his patient eyes and realized that she needed to take this first step to get her life back. She grabbed onto his hand tightly as she rose from the step.

"My name is Isabella Swan, and I need your help." She whispered. He gripped her hand tightly as he pulled her into his chest.

"My name is Edward Cullen, and I will do everything I can." He answered back, just as quietly. She laid her head on his chest and inhaled his scent, it was cookies baking and spice and trust, and she realized she could trust this man to help her find her way home.