Victoria Greyson is your typical 28 year old. She's a hard worker, loves to party, and is very loving in general. She believes in the good, and often sheds light on the people who need to realize all the good. What happens when she gets drugged at a...
Well.. tonight's the night. Derek Morgan will be meeting my parents and brother. I was currently getting ready, dressing nicer than I usually would to go see them.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
He's gonna make it. He's gonna come home with me.
"Are you ready, baby?" I looked at Derek through the mirror. He was wearing a button up shirt and dress pants. "Yeah, nervous though." I mumbled, walking over to him. "What? Scared they're not gonna like me?" Derek joked. But that joke wasn't funny, it was true.
"Yes, Asshole. That's exactly why I'm scared." Only partially why I'm scared. "I'm only joking, angel. Plus, what does it matter? As long as you like me, I don't care what they think." I glanced at the clock and back at him.
"Yeah well, hotshot, we should get a move on. They'll kill us if we're late." No pun intended, only truth.
_____
"You look..." Liam makes disgusted face as my outfit. Don't bite back, bite your tongue before it's cut off. "Lovely to see you again, Liam. This Derek." I introduced the man of the hour. My hand practically braking his hand from how tightly it was grasped in my own.
"Am I supposed to be impressed?" Liam sneered when Derek stuck his hand out for a handshake. "Excuse him, he's never been one for socializing." I take Derek's outstretched hand, holding it within my own. "Is that my daughter at the door?" His voice was booming from the other room.
"Yeah, Dad! It's me." I yelled back. "You know better than to raise your voice!" My fist clenched, my nails digging into my skin, and I didn't realize I was digging into Derek's hand as well until I looked down. I was quick to take my hand away from his. Derek gave me a pointed look, grabbing my hand again. My heart ached when I saw the crescent shaped nail marks in his skin.
"Kitchen. Now." I looked up, Dad beckoning me with his finger. No, no, no. That leaves Liam with Derek. "Oh yeah, uhm, hey Derek can you go get your jacket from the car? I'm a little cold." Please have a jacket in the car. God, whoever, hogwarts I don't know... if you're up there and you love me, please let him go get that jacket and please let that jacket be existent.
"Yeah, baby. But I think I only have my FBI jacket, if that's alright?" Oh, thank you Hogwarts... or God. "That's perfect, thank you." It's still light out. And there are still people coming home from work, Liam wouldn't kill Derek in daylight.
"You brought an FBI agent to our fucking house?!" Liam turned to me, eyes wide, nostrils flaring. "You dumb whore." Dad gripped my forearm harshly, pulling towards him. "You told me to bring my boyfriend, that's what I did." "Are you fucking stupid? Why would you date the FBI? You dumb slut. You're a fucking whore, bet you're with him for the cock? You're just a cockslut."
{Derek's POV}
Cockslut? Whore? They didn't know I had walked through the door, they were in the kitchen. She wasn't scared of them not liking me... she wasn't scared of them. Of what they would say to her. I peeked into the kitchen, seeing her father's hand wrapped around her arm tightly. His hands... they matched the bruises that I saw on her wrists weeks ago. They had started to become invisible. But now they were back.
"Hey baby, I got the jacket." I wouldn't leave her side for the rest of the night. I know she didn't want me to know, but I did. And she can't change that I'm gonna protect her from her family. This was all she knew. This stuff doesn't happen overnight. This had to have been going of years.
"Thanks." She murmured, taking the jacket from me and sliding it over herself. Her mom was at the stove, looking at her with a glare. "Why don't you help me with dinner sweetheart?" Her mom asked, turning to her. "Yeah, I gotta have a chat with this fella, make sure he doesn't hurt my little girl." Oh yeah, cause it's not like you haven't left your mark on her.
We sat in dead silence, both her father and Liam staring daggers into my head. I wasn't budging though, that man fucking laid a hand on my girl. My babygirl. I didn't glare, I simply just had no emotion on my face.
"Dinner's ready." The soft voice pulled their glares away from me. I glanced behind me, Victoria looking timid and cautious. I stood up, taking my spot next to her as her dad and brother passed us to go to the dining room. I went to grab her hand, but she was quick to pull it away and hide it from me. I gave her a look that said let-me-see.
She shook her head, walking towards the dining room.
Throughout all of dinner, she used her left hand... she's right handed. She was eating with her left hand, using it to pick up her glass, to pass things around the table, while she kept her right hand snug between her knees in attempt to hide whatever she was hiding. I had to get her out of here. She didn't want to be here, that was reason enough.
I pulled out my phone, glances down at it. "I apologize, but I'm afraid we'll have to cut this dinner short. I've got a case." Victoria's father perked up at this information. "Oh, that's alright. You go, I'll be sure to get Victoria home in one piece." Oh yeah, I'm rolling on the floor laughing. Really fucking hysterical.
"Uhm actually, Victoria, Hotch was hoping you could watch Jack for him. Jack's aunt is at work and can't come in." She nodded immediately, standing up and practically dragging me out the door.
"Show me your hand." She buckled her seatbelt.. with her left hand, her right one kept away in her pocket. "C'mon we've gotta go. You have serial killer ass to kick and I have a kid waiting-" "I lied. Now show me your hand. I saw the way your dad was holding your arm. I heard what he said. You don't have to hide it anymore."
{Victoria's POV}
...I don't have to hide anymore. But I didn't know if I was trying to subconsciously hide it from myself, or from him, or both.
"I don't know if I'm doing it again?" I mumbled. "Doing what?" "Pushing everything down and trying to hide. I don't know if I'm trying to keep it from you, or myself, or both? I don't know. And I'm not trying to push it down on purpose I just... I don't want it to be real." I confessed, trying keep down the lump in my throat. I didn't want to sob, but I wouldn't try to stop the tears.
"Talk to me, please. What's going on in that pretty head?" His voice was soft and gentle. He had pulled out of the driveway, taking us either to his place, or mine. "I.. uhm... they steal money from me. But Lyla's husband has been helping, because I can't always meet their costs. They've all hated me since I can remember. I think the hitting started when I was 10. I ran away when I was 16, and I was a prostitute for awhile. I'm not proud of that. That's kinda how I started picking up how to defend myself. I had saved up to try and get an apartment by 18. But then Liam 'ran into me' one day and brought me back. And I've been stuck. Lyla has always told me to go to the police, cause she hates what they do. But I can't. They'll kill me. And I mean literally kill me. I just.. I wanted to keep this part of my life away from you."
"You shouldn't have to put up with your girlfriend's baggage. Mom scorched my hand with the spoon she was using to cook. Uhm, Lyla started giving me allowances every month when I was 20. She and Thomas married young. And then I had saved that up, got an apartment, and started going to school. Almost 2 months ago my parents sucked my bank account dry. Every last penny was gone. Lyla helped. I hated her giving her money away like it was candy. But both her and Thomas didn't want me to go to prostitution, which was my plan. So that's me, Derek. That's your girlfriend."
I was very much expecting him to knock me to the curb, yell at me to never speak to him again. But his house can into view, and he parked in his driveway. He didn't say a word, which put me on edge. I was half expecting him to just walk inside, leave me in the car. He walked over to the passenger's side, opening the door for me.
He squatted down, just a bit shorter than me now. I unbuckled the seatbelt, turning to face him. "Do you trust me?" I nodded down at him, and he reached for my hands. His thumbs gently ran across my knuckles. "Then let me help."
