Pieces

A new life

Just a little note: this story is going to twist and turn. It's going to be a bit tough at times, but I'll warn you in advance. There is a general, non graphic description of Sang having been hurt in this chapter.

To the Academy fan, (you know who you are) who gave Volto a name, thank you!

Thanks for reading! :)

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Sang honey, baby; you know I only want the best for you. I just love you so much. I just want to protect you. It's my job. It's all I ever wanted. Don't be mad at me baby, please don't be mad."

Sang looked at the man in front of her. His face twisted as he pleaded with her. His lips pouting slightly like a little child. Man. This "man" who was pleading his case, was twenty years of age. The same age as her, yet she felt as if she was the adult in this relationship.

"Baby..."

Sang shivered, she hated it when he called her "baby." It just didn't sit well with her at all. She just couldn't put her finger on it, but the feeling when he said it, filled her with dread.

He moved towards her and placed two hands either side of her cheeks, firmly. Sang tried to move from his hold, but he wasn't for obliging.

"Vol..." Sang started to say.

"Don't! Don't call me that name! My name is James!" He snarled in return.

"Um, sorry James, I keep forgetting," Sang lowered her head, as her voice whispered.

"You know I hate that name, baby. It was my Father's nickname, not mine. I hate being mentioned in the same breath as him, let alone bare his name." James continued.

"I won't call you that name again," Sang's voice wavered, "I didn't mean to upset you."

"Come here baby, let's not fight. You know I hate it when we fight," James cooed.

He lifted his hands to her head and ran his fingers not too gently through her hair. Pulling her head up from its submissive position, he kissed her. A kiss not of fire, passion or even love; but a kiss of possession, desire and control.

Sang jumped startled as the bus came to an abrupt halt. Jarred from her thoughts she stumbled her way down the aisle and stepped off the bus. Dazed, she shook the argument she had that morning with James from her mind. She needed time. She needed a plan. She needed to think.

Sang looked up the sky as the first drops of rain fell upon her. She caught the first few heavy droplets in her hand and ran for cover. She didn't want to get wet. Her aversion to showers and rain lay firmly with James. He had apologised over and over, but Sang had never forgiven him that episode.

Darting into the nearest coffee shop, a large clap of thunder overhead made Sang jump.

"Looks like it's going to be bad for a while," the barista said. He looked vaguely familiar to Sang; tall with longish blonde hair that was tied up with an elastic band. He indicated the rain, which rendered the huge glass window, that ran the length of the coffee shop, opaque.

"Um, yes, I guess so," Sang answered.

Sang was slightly distracted as she tried to think where she had seen the barista before.

"What would you like?" The barista asked.

"A mocha cortado please."

"Great choice! Coming right up. Take a seat and I'll bring it over when it's ready."