"I think I'm just gonna eat here at my desk Vaughn. It's bad enough that I have to go out to get Mr. Carter's lunch, I'm just not up to being stared at by everyone." Sara pulled her cardigan closer over herself, subconsciously trying to shield herself from the pain of people's stares. Vaughn's eyes grew sad as he looked down on his friend. She was such a good person and deserved way better than that shitbag of a husband she had. Most of her friends had turned their backs on her because she wouldn't leave but Vaughn couldn't do that. The memory of identifying his little sister's body in the morgue kept him by Sara's side. Susie wouldn't leave her boyfriend no matter how their family had tried and in the end she'd died alone because they'd make ultimatums and demands she couldn't meet. Vaughn hoped like hell that Sara would get out in time but if she didn't she'd have a friend by her side. She wouldn't die alone in the street like someone who was unloved. She wouldn't be like his sister. Vaughn cleared his throat before he spoke. "Ok. Well you know where I am if you need me. I'll talk to you later."
Sara flashed him a smile knowing he was worried about her. "Sure thing." She gave him a small wave as he turned down the hall. 'Vaughn is a really good friend', she thought. In another life, they might go out for drinks or to catch movies...maybe hang out and go on couple dates. Sara gave herself a little mental shake. There was no sense wondering and wishing about what might have been. Her life is what is it is now and that's all there was to it. Looking at her computer she saw that Mr. Carter had requested a sandwich from the local Italian place clear across the square. Biting her lip, she groaned in frustration. Hopefully too many people wouldn't be out eating lunch although she doubted it seeing that it was 11:30 am. Sighing dejectedly, she grabbed her purse, making sure that her company check card was in there and headed out downstairs toward the exit.
The sun was incredibly bright when she stepped out, making her wince since the warmth was uncomfortable on the bruises on her face. Sara folded herself up and quickly walked to the other side of the square from the small advertising firm she worked at, trying to make herself as small as she possibly could. She could feel eyes watching her and she tried to ignore it as she made her way to Stratelli's Eatery.
She looked so frail and small. Mark felt the need to sweep her up and carry her back to the den. She looked like she stood about 5' 8" but with her all hunched over and scurrying across the square it was hard for him to tell. What was wrong with her? What did she need from him so badly that his wolf kept drawing him to this square? He casually walked along his edge of the square to try to get to where she seemed to be headed. She seemed very skittish so he wanted to be sure not to scare her. He angled his trajectory so that he ended up a good ways behind her. Cautiously sniffing the air, her scent sandbagged him. He smelled like chocolate and vanilla with a mix of honey. Her scent was almost creamy in a way. It was heavenly. He shook himself. He had to keep his head in the game if he was going to talk to her and maybe at least come into his practice here in the town. He didn't see a wedding band on her finger so no boyfriend to worry about. He entered the eatery behind her, his stomach grumbling at the rich smell of marinara sauce and garlic. Might as well pick up some lunch while he was here. She picked a good place. She ordered a sandwich that sounded pretty awesome too. Turning over what appeared to be a company credit card she paid for the sandwich and impatiently waited for the cashier to give her the receipt. She wouldn't stop fidgeting. What had her so nervous? As she readjusted her sleeves he saw bruises in the shape of fingerprints on her wrists. So. That's what was wrong with her, she'd been beaten. Mark's eyes turned a rich and swirling amber as his wolf tried to rise to the surface, desperate to find any trace of the fool that would dare touch the beautiful woman before him. She'd been making idle chit chat with the cashier while the credit card machine was running and finally the teenager was able to hand her back the card and the signature slip. She managed to hold onto the credit card but dropped the slip. Mark figured this was as good a time as any to introduce himself to her and bent down to pick it up for her. "Hi, I'm Mark. You seem to have dropped this." Mark stood up to hand her the slip and gently placed his hand on her shoulder to draw her attention.
Sara flinched and spun around quickly. "No no no please don't tell Jimmy I didn't mean anything by it I promise" Sara whimpered. She quickly began to hyperventilate. Jimmy told her that he always knew where she was and what she was doing. She should have known that he'd send one of his buddies to check up on her and monitor what she was doing.
Mark felt a stabbing pain in his chest at the fear coming off of her in waves. She was so beautiful and he could sense the good in her. Why would someone hurt her like this? Mark felt his wolf slamming against his human conscience aching to rip her abuser limb from limb. Calm down buddy if we change we'll scare her. "It's okay I don't even know a Jimmy I was just trying to give you this" Mark said calmly and slowly. As he finished talking he raised the hand with the receipt in it.
The whooshing of blood through Sara's veins blocked out anything the man in front of her was saying. All she could think of was how it took her three weeks to recover from the last beating she got when Jimmy thought she was too friendly with the gardener. Jimmy was going to kill her if his friend told her that she was flirting with another man. And she had to be flirting. Jimmy always told her how she couldn't talk to a man without flirting and acting like a whore. How was she going to keep Jimmy from killing her after this? As she ran through all of the ways Jimmy could hurt her and forced herself to stare at the floor, she saw a hand raise up out of the corner of her eye and the world went black.
