Luke's hand came crashing down on the wooden dinner table, making Annabeth jump. There was anger in his eyes and she knew that she'd done something wrong that she would be made to regret tonight. She didn't know what she done wrong. Had she said something? Was the pasta dinner she had prepared not good? Annabeth thought back to all the times she had made Luke angry. It was usually something she said that was to blame. Or a slight inflection in her voice. But this time she really couldn't figure out what she had done.

Luke left his spot at the table and came over to Annabeth. His neck was corded and his hand was raised in the air, ready to slam into her cheek or the back of her head, and send her flying out of her seat and onto the hard floor. Luke's hand came

sweeping through the air, just as she'd thought it would. At the last moment it curled into a fist and struck her mouth, driving her lips against her teeth, and snapping her head back. She tasted blood, and instinctively raised her hands to protect against another blow. A big mistake.

She knew it as Luke grabbed her arms and pulled her upright, hissing in her left ear, "You bitch. You ungrateful bitch. I'm helping you Annabeth. I'm making sure that you learn to keep yourself from saying stupid things, doing dumb things. I'm helping you."

His grip on her wrists tightened for a moment then loosened. He was right. She was always doing and saying stupid things. After all he loved her. He wouldn't do this to hurt her. Suddenly the doorbell rang and Luke ordered her, "Stay in the dining room."

She obeyed and smoothed her hair, wiped blood from her lips, preparing herself in case the visitor came in. She grabbed a board game that was on the floor next to her and started to set it up. Luke always liked her to pretend that they had been in the middle of something else when anybody came to the door while Luke was in the middle of hitting her. Or helping her, she corrected. He was helping. She heard the sound of footsteps coming into the dining room and a moment later Luke was back, a wide grin on his face, with one of his friends. Percy Jackson. Percy was lean and muscular and Annabeth remembered that Luke had told her he was a swimmer.

Luke clapped Percy on the back and said, "I forgot, Percy's staying here for the night while his folks are out of town."

Luke shot Annabeth a look and she instantly knew what it meant: she should unfold the sofa bed, put sheets and a blanket on it, and make herself scarce. Annabeth got ready to hurry to the linen closet, which doubled as the pantry, but Percy addressed her.

"Hey Annabeth. I haven't seen you in while. How are you?"

"Good." She replied. Luke had told her that short one word answers would discourage further conversation. But that tactic didn't work with Percy. Instead he made every attempt at coaxing her into more conversation. And it was hard, so hard, to resist talking with him.

Percy asked her about her project for her Architectural Studies class. Luke had never allowed her to discuss it at length. He always called her selfish when she talked about things she was working on, and told her nobody wanted to hear about it.

Tears stung the back of her eyes and she blinked rapidly to hold them back. Having Percy seem genuinely interested make her stomach flop, in a good way. It made her happy.

But soon she caught another look from Luck and told Percy she had to go and take care of his bedding. He nodded and thanked her and as he walked away with Luke, towards the kitchen to heat up the leftovers from dinner, he threw an invitation to join him and Luke in watching a movie later. Annabeth wanted to accept but Luke would never allow her to.

She hurried to the linen closet and grabbed two sheets, both unfitted, and a light throw. The crisp Autumn air had transitioned to the warm air of spring, and Percy wouldn't need a heavy blanket. Annabeth stacked everything and carried it into the living room. She awkwardly pushed open the living room door propping it open with her foot as she edged her way into the room. She tripped on something that she hadn't seen, probably a lamp cord, and fell forward. She prepared herself to come into contact with the floor, but strong arms caught her from behind.

"Are you okay?" Percy said, still holding on to her waist as she turned to face him.

"Yes," she answered breathily, "But I dropped the sheets and now they're all dusty and Luke is-"

She froze. She had about to say it out loud. The unspeakable. "Luke is going to be...irritated." She finished.

Percy said, "Well, I don't mind dusty sheets, there's nothing to worry about."

But there was. Luke would teach her not to be clumsy later that night, while Percy was sound asleep and out of earshot. Percy released her and she stumbled slightly. "Thanks for catching me," she mummered.

Something overtook her and words spilled from her mouth, "Would you ever hit one of your girlfriends?"

Percy looked shocked and his eyebrows drew together. "No way. That would be completely fucked up. It's domestic violence."

Domestic violence. Annabeth had once looked it up, but she hadn't applied it to her situation. Luke didn't keep a gun hidden away to scare her. He never beat her half to death. She never became as battered and bruised as badly as some of the girls in the pictures she'd seen. Her situation was completely and totally different. But Percy's words sparked something in her. Was her situation not really that different. Was it, in fact, the same? The thought frightened her.

Percy came over to the sofa bed, which Annabeth had just unfolded, and he helped her put on the sheets. "Why do you ask?"

"Umm...a friend asked me for some advice. Her boyfriend slapped her and she's not sure what do." Annabeth lied.

"Well has he it done it more than once?"

"Yes."

"Then she needs to get the fuck out of there. It will only get worse for her." Percy tucked in the top sheet.

Luke came suddenly into the room, and Annabeth flinched. "What?" Percy asked, noticing her flinch.

He turned around and saw Luke. "Hey man." He greeted. Then he turned back to Annabeth, giving her odd look that made her mentally curse her actions. Of course Percy thought it was odd that she wasn't happy to see Luke. She could see in his Percy's eyes that the truth was on the verge of clicking and she flinched again. Why had she asked those questions? Why hadn't she put on a show of joy when Luke arrived? Luke and Percy left, going into the other room to watch their movie, and Annabeth finished making the bed. She found a pillow for Percy and retreated to the dining room, where she set up her computer. She brought up her 3D design app, and began to work on the model for a building. A dream house, that she one day hoped to see come to fruition and maybe one that she could move into. It struck her as odd that she never included Luke in her fantasies of the future. Shouldn't she?

She spent the next few hours working on her model for the house. When at last she was satisfied with the layout of the ground floor, she closed her laptop and set it up to charge by the coffee machine. Luke burst into the dining room moments later. "You little bitch." He had a belt in his hand, part of it curled around his palm like a snake, the rest of it hung limply from his fingers. "You said something to Percy didn't you? He's asking questions now."

Anger flared in his eyes and Annabeth shrank back, cowering against a bookcase. The brown leather belt whistled through the air, and struck her, right above her eyebrow. She almost cried out, but Luke said, "If you make a peep, this'll be much worse."

This was the first time Luke had ever done more than hit her with his bare hands. Now he was thrashing her. Every time the belt came down, Annabeth felt white hot pain searing across her body, and her vision began to go spotty as he continued. When the belt landed in the same place, three times in a row, Annabeth couldn't contain herself, she cried out. Rage had overpowered Luke and he didn't notice when Percy burst into the room. Luke grabbed a large beer mug that was sitting nearby and threw it at Annabeth. It shattered when it struck, little bits of glass raining down all around her. She had thrown her hands up in defense when she saw the mug coming, and glass bloodied her palms. Percy leapt across the room, and grabbed Luke, "What the fuck man, what the fuck are you doing? I'm calling the police. I calling the fucking police, what the fuck did you do?"

Percy pulled out his cellphone and spoke quickly into it for a moment. Annabeth wasn't listening. All she felt was pain.

Then she felt Percy scooping her up, lifting her to his chest and cradling her head. She sobbed, clinging to him, and he bent down to her ear, and said, "It's gonna be okay baby."