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Please note that this is the raw unedited prologue and I’m thinking of cutting it down a little or just posting it later as Chapter 1. But it’s the backstory behind how Liam & Jane (actually) meet. Enjoy.

Unspoken – Prologue

A siren rings in the distance and the streets are surprisingly bare. Jane wraps her thin coat tighter around herself, keeping her head down to the sidewalk, hoping that she finds her way home soon. Her violet stiletto heals clatter against the pavement and her bare legs shiver beneath her short, silver birthday dress.

She kicks at an empty can on the ground, frustrated and muttering to herself. This is the last time she’s going to forgive him, his anger is too much to handle and she’s only been eighteen for three hours. She can’t waste her adolescence on a man. No, she’s definitely going to leave him this time.

Ignoring the voice in the back of her mind, antagonizing her to keep her promise this time. She rolled her eyes at her self and let out a breath that she could see in the air as it escapes her perfectly painted red lips. She felt ridiculous wandering around the city with no purse, money or cell phone. Of course she just had to run from him without grabbing her things, he’s sure to give her a hard time for that.

“Great job, Jane.” She mutters under the lapels of her coat, turning a corner that she’s hoping will lead her home.

The way she envisioned the night of her eighteenth birthday to end was definitely not like this. She knew that he just had to ruin it. She’s been with him since middle school, she knew him better by now. She knew more about him than she wanted to. She shook her head at the thought of how he acted at the restaurant, in front of her friends. The way he grabbed at her arm. The threat of another painful bruise will be waiting for her when they got home.

James wasn’t the perfect boy friend. Hell, he is probably the worse of them. But he was there when her father died, when her mother left and he’s been there for over four birthdays now. Her mind was swimming with excuses, like always, for the abusive prick that claims to love her.

Her eyes that were cast down to the ground blocked her vision of the man in a black coat approaching her. Lightly, she brushed against him, her heart seemed to stop and her steps quickened.

A young girl wandering the streets of Chicago at three in the morning, wearing a short skirt and come fuck me heals. He knew what she was. He turned his steps around and with just a few strides he came up barely a few steps behind her.

Jane glanced slightly over her shaking shoulder, his face is shadowed under his baseball cap and the streetlights behind him are causing an inconvenient backlight, silhouetting his large figure in her vision.

A sudden burst of fear exploded in her chest and she started to run. Not looking back, her body ignored the cold as her jacket fluttered open. Turning another unfamiliar corner, her heal caught a crack on the pavement, sending her crashing to the ground.

On her scraped knees and trembling hands she painfully pushed her self up, slowly. Hearing the muffled sound of his steps building up around the corner as she scrambles to her feet, quickly removing her shoes and began to run once more. She looked behind her and the shadow man was nearing with quicker steps.

She heard voices down the street indicating that there’s a chance of finding a crowd to disappear in, hopefully. Her legs ached and the bottom of her feet burned with fresh wounds from the pavement, she turned another corner following the sounds and found her self trapped in a dark alley. The sounds were emerging from an apartment window up above her.

Her charcoal lined eyes filled with tears. She fought with the idea of screaming for help or climbing the wall to the opened window. Her thoughts ran around in circles, her mind jumbled and as she turned she was presented by his figure waiting for her.

He did not step closer, merely blocked an escape. He loved the chase and this little whore was giving him the sport of a lifetime. He couldn’t wait to unravel the price he had won, his eyes moved from her bare feet, up to her wounded knees and milky thighs.

“Please, I –I just need to find my way home.” Jane found her voice somehow even though her mind was slowly escaping her.

“I don’t have anything you want, I don’t have money on me.” She raised her shivering hands up at him; one still holding the three-inch heals of her shoes.

He remained stoic, his large hands dangling at his sides. He prepared himself because he wasn’t new at this. She would run again. This wasn’t his first chase. He thought of the hunt he had conquered barely three days ago, how the girl screamed behind his tight palm clenched over her ruby red lips. He thought of the tears that salted her skin as he licked and bit and the tightness of her clenching against him as he forced himself into her body.

Jane sprung from where she stood, at full force toward the shadow wall that blocked her from her escape. She managed to duck under his grasp; falling face first onto the lit sidewalk and the metallic taste of blood filled her mouth.

A pair of hands clamped around her arms and she found her strength once more, wriggling free of him and scratching him as she does. The man growled, grabbed at his face and lunged at her like an animal.

She screamed, loud and echoing but no one answered her cries. Her mind tried to escape, tried to block it out and leave her body for the taking. Tears fell harder, spit sliding down her chin and his claws digging into her wrists. Her eyes met his, they were crystal and jagged and his smile was an indication that her scratch did not wound him; it excited him.

“Hey! What he fuck do you think you’re doing?” a man’s voice called out from the end of the street. He emerged from his white car, like a knight climbing off his steed to her aid.

The claws that held her upright released her body to the ground, stepping over her and running into the shadows of the street. Jane found herself lying helplessly on the cold cement and her eyes caught a blur of the man running toward her.

He knelt down beside her, his long fingers cupped under her head. She found no strength to look at his face, although she wanted to. She could see his shiny black shoes and the dangling black tie that swung as he moved closer.

“Are you alright? Hey –hey talk to me. What’s your name?” his voice was gentle, soothing and she felt her eyes closing to his lullaby. He spoke in a soft accent that she couldn’t quite decipher but it made her think of tea, sweet little cakes and a prince. She slipped into darkness, her eyes closing and the pain started to disappear.

“Shit, shit, shit.” He scrambled for his cell phone and punched in three numbers. Before it ran he snapped it shut. He looked down at her, brushing her dark brown hair away from her face. She looked almost peaceful under his hand. He slipped his arms under her petite frame, lifting her, grabbing her shoes scattered on the ground as he does.

Her arms and legs dangled limply as he carried her to his car, placing her in the passenger seat. He strapped the seatbelt over her waist and his eyes fell to her skirt, hiked up, revealing a glimpse of her red lace panties. He diverted his eyes, tugged down her skirt and jogged around to the driver’s side.

He placed a hand on the gearshift but hesitated for a moment, rethinking the idea of calling for help instead of rushing her off to the hospital himself. He glanced over at her and adjusted her head that hung uncomfortably to a resting position against the seat. She was bruised; bleeding and he could see the traces of where her tears had fallen in streaks of charcoal against her skin. He took a deep breath, shifted to drive and took off to the nearest hospital.

“Sir, what’s her name?” the nurse with strawberry blonde hair looks up at him from her clipboard. He shifted his sapphire eyes down the hall where they had hauled the bleeding angel to the emergency room and slipped his hands deep into his pockets, shrugging his shoulders and shaking his head.

“You don’t know her name?” she arched a brow and for a moment, they both knew what she was assuming.

“I was driving from a meeting and I saw this man attacking her, I scared him off and brought her here.” She blushed a little at him, which usually he would return with a smile but he found it inappropriate for the moment.

A policeman emerged from the hall and approached him. The nurse retreated but took a quick look over her shoulder at the white knight.

“Sir, I’m officer Bradley, do you mind filling out an incident report?” he held out a clipboard and a pen.

“Not at all.” He took the metal board into his hands and began to write. He recalled the horrifying sight of the assailant and the heart wrenching vision of her lying on the ground.

“Is she going to be alright?” his eyes darted up to the man in the dark blue uniform.

“I think she’ll be fine, are you her boyfriend Mister, um-” the officer retrieved his clipboard from the man surveying his report. “–Hamilton?”

“Please, call me William and no. Just at the right place at the right time I guess.” He flashed a weary grin and rubbed his hand against his temple. He had been up for almost two days now and had a flight to catch back to his home in New York. Spending it in a hospital was not part of his plan.

“Did you happen to see what the man looked like?” Officer Bradley shifted on his feet, being a man of reasonable built he rarely felt intimidated by other men but William towered over him at six foot two and his crisp suit indicated he was someone of importance.

“No, I’m sorry. I was too far before he took off running. Do you still need me? I have to catch a plane in an hour.” A part of him wanted this whole night to be over but there was a small part wanted to know her name. Maybe he should stay a little longer.

“That should be all, thank you. You did a good thing tonight William.” The officer shook his hand, a bit harder than intended and retreated back toward the hall.

William hesitated for a moment. His eyes stare toward the now empty hall and thought for a moment of leaving a note or a business card. His hesitation confused him and he wasn’t accustomed to being unsure of anything. He let out a sigh, bid her a good bye in his mind and left the hospital behind.

Pulling the rental car up to the return kiosk, William cleared his baggage from the trunk and handed the keys to the young man in an unflattering light blue collared shirt. They exchanged smiles and he raised a hand in dismissal to their offer of helping him with his bags. He might be a man of lavish privilege but he was a man who could handle his own bag.

As he pulled at the metal handle of his leather suitcase, rolling behind him, the young man called out and quickly jogging to him.

“Sir, you forgot these.” The boy held out two deep purple stilettos toward him as William stared down at them wide eyed.

“Um –Thank you.” He hooked them into two long fingers and retrieved the shoes, his cheeks burning with rare embarrassment.

The boy bid his farewell, smiled and jogged back to his lonely kiosk, leaving William bewildered and slightly humiliated. He moves aside to a near by bench and rests his bag down. Carefully, he eyes the shoes and smirks.

He wondered if the rental car would turn to a pumpkin later or if the sleeping damsel he left at the hospital has wicked step sisters mistreating her at home.

He unzipped his bag and pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket, laying it flat against his neatly folded clothes then gently positioning the shoes on top. He zipped it tightly and hurried through the sliding doors into the airport.

Barely catching his flight to New York, he managed to slip past the doors just as the flight attendant was about to jeer it shut. Once settled on the plane, relaxed in his comfortable first class seat, he closed his eyes and dreamed of his dark haired damsel in distress.

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