A/N: Please let me know what you think about this – this story is a real departure for me in terms of subject matter. I would love to know if I am doing bad or really bad :)

Haven

Chapter One: Desperation

Spin.

Twirl.

Hold the top of the pole - remember to balance your weight on the tips of your toes.

Don't concentrate too hard, look seductive.

For Christ's sakes Bella – Do. Not. Fall.

You need the money. Remember the money, remember your purpose.

***

The world is not a fair place. This was the first thing I learned when my life shifted – when my picture perfect life was pulled out from under me. If it were, I would not be here, wearing only a blue low rise thong, parading my bare tits for the rich asshole in front of me.

It would be safe to say at this point that this wasn't what I had envisioned for myself, at any age. That's the sad thing about desperation…it takes you to places that most wouldn't even consider. So here I am, dropping my ass on to this perverts pant covered dick, trying my hardest to push down the bile as I try to keep my mind on the prize. This debauchery was going to keep me in college, which was the vessel that would eventually provide me with a less disgusting life style. I had to remember that.

But sometimes that was a tall order.

As time goes on I find it easier to deal in this strange world I have entered, a fact that terrifies the hell out of me. When I first started stripping at Sapphire Gentlemen's Club I did what I do best, I made a rule system. Guidelines - any sort of systematic approach to a situation were always the best route. My father taught me that. Rules always gave me clarity and, the rules I set for myself when I started stripping were simple and concise.

Rule Number One: Never get comfortable with your occupation.

Rule Number Two: Never let yourself be pimped out.

Rule Number Three: No sex. Period.

Rule Number Four: You are always in control.

Rule Number Five: No boyfriends.

Rule Number Six: No friends.

For so long I hadn't had any problems with sticking to my rules and eventually, the rules bled into my personal life, creating a kind of protection from both worlds I lived in. I didn't have any friends, I didn't even look at guys and because of that I achieved the total control that I craved.

Sapphire was an upscale titty amusement park for the wealthy, a place that adhered to a strict code and rule system which was more than relieving for me. Dancers were treated with a fair amount of respect and kindness, the place was clean, and you had to be a member of the club to get in. I was fucking ecstatic when I found that out. At least I didn't have to cater to random men that strolled in off the street. I didn't start here sadly, I mean, god…if only. My start was more or less just like every other desperate woman's that turned to this lucrative profession.

The place was called Max's – a low grade, smoky prostitute haven disguised as a strip joint in the heart of Northeast Portland. I lasted a mere three weeks in the hell hole before I decided to up and quit and take my chances on the street. Fuck if I was going to have to sex up some drunken sleaze for a few bucks. My boss there, Mike, did everything he could to sell me off to the highest bidder, occasionally locking me in a cum covered room with a willing customer, who, thanks to my asshole of a boss, was under the impression that his fifty bucks bought him the right to tackle my vagina any way he pleased.

Wrong.

I wasn't a god damned prostitute, a fact that Mike fucking Newton most likely never forgot. His crooked nose, compliments of my fist, hopefully served as a reminder that Bella Swan was not to be a fuck toy.

Things were rough after that. I wandered the streets during the day, my large duffle bag swinging, tapping my thigh with every step. My nights were spent huddled by dumpsters near awnings.

Weeks went by in that fashion, living rough and in the rain, finding places to huddle and shrink away. I tended to stay around Hawthorn and Burnside, places that I didn't stick out in. Eventually I started going into clubs and started auditioning again, trying to find a place that would at least let me keep what remained of my dignity intact. It was like everywhere I went, every club I entered; it was all just a cover for underground prostitution. I won't lie, I did consider it. But the moment I saw myself screwing some sweaty prick for a few bills, my fathers face would skate right into my mind, effectively shutting down the inclination.

It was just as I was going to give up and walk out on my aspirations; I met a man who changed my life.

Jacob Black.

Hmm…Jay Black. He practically thrust me head first into the environment I now find myself in. He happened to be scouting for "classy girls" (as he says) to give his club a fresher vibe and had the opportunity to see me at one of my many dirty, seedy auditions. He was the reason I now lived a small two bedroom house, had no student loans, and didn't ever have to worry about any kind of stability. From that first night on I have been taken care of by his sexy Native American ass. He set me up in the club, gave me a room and supplied me with what he felt was appropriate clothing. At that point in my life I was willing to give myself over to someone else, have someone, anyone, make my decisions.

But now, now I just want to be free. Free from this painfully degrading lifestyle. Free to live the life that I had always imagined myself living.

All because of a man.

I had a man groaning and losing control beneath me, staring at my breasts as they bounced in his face – I was performing an act that was going to pay my mortgage for the next two months.

I had already had eight "appointments" today and none of it made a difference to me anymore. I wanted to give all of it up. I wanted to find a way out.

All because of Edward fucking Cullen.