Emmett reached for his phone, wondering who'd actually be calling his house line… everyone called the cell phone because they knew it was the only way they really had a chance of catching him. He checked the Caller ID and totally didn't recognize the number. He set the phone back down, figuring it was probably some prank caller looking for a stupid laugh. Maybe it'd be fun to fuck with em.

"Hello?"

"I have a collect call for you, sir, are you willing to accept the charges?" a mellow-voiced operator asked him.

"A collect call.. what the…"

Before he could ever finish asking who the hell it was, he heard "EMMETT! IT'S ROSE! TAKE THE FUCKING CALL!"

"Rosalie? Yeah, I accept the charges…" he waited for the operator to hang up, and then asked, "Rose, what are you doing?"

"Calling you collect!" she said, obviously exasperated and a little something else he couldn't quite identify yet.

"From where?" he asked.

"A payphone."

"A payphone where?"

"Walmart."

"Why are you calling from Walmart?"

"Because Target doesn't have a payphone?"

"Target? Where the hell is that?"

"Like a mile from campus, next to the Ghetto, it's cool…"

"Damn… that's new…"

"Yeah, you'd know that if you came home more." Rosalie told him.

"I live in Tampa, Rose... this is home." he replied.

"No, you currently reside in Tampa, this is your home."

He sighed, "So, why are you calling me collect?"

There was a pause, and then she said, "Because I didn't know what else to do… and I couldn't grab my cell phone or my purse as I was running out of the house…"

"Why? What's wrong? Why are you running?"

"He was chasing me around the kitchen with a fucking mini meat clever thing!" she spat.

"He WHAT? Why the fuck was he doing that?"

"I told him I was breaking up with him and he had to move out."

"So he was chasing you around the kitchen with a big ass knife?" he asked, trying to process the rationale. Yes, being dumped sucked, but… damn.

"Yes…" she paused, sniffling. "He's a fucking accountant! He's supposed to be normal and boring!"

"Not so much, huh?" What else was he supposed to say to that, really? Mr. Let Me Crunch the Numbers turns out to be a psychopath… what do you do with that?

"It's not the first time he's been like that…" she whispered.

"Why the hell did you stay then?"

"Didn't know what else to do with myself? I have no idea…" she paused again and Emmett heard the full-on tears start. "I can't go back there, Emmett…"

"I know…" Before he really even had a chance to think it through he asked, "Why don't you come out here for a few days? Get away from, clear your head… that'll give him a chance to leave and you can just… chill."

There was a long pause on the other end of the phone, as if Rosalie were sorting out her options. Finally she said, "Yeah… that sounds good…"

"Alright, that's settled. Call me when you get here." Emmett said.

"Problem." Rosalie interjected.

"What's that?" he asked.

"I've got nothing with me. No cash, no credit cards, nothing… I can't even buy a plane ticket… and I'm not going back there with him tonight…"

"Just go to the airport, okay? I'll get you on the next flight out here. I'll have them page you with the flight info."

"Thanks…for everything."

"Just go, Rosalie. We'll talk when you get here." Emmett told her, trying to figure out who to call first when he got her off the phone.

"Yeah, see you later." She said, and hung up.

-:-

I ran my tongue across my lips as I sped down the road, pissed off when I could still taste blood. I had to do something… I wasn't about to go back home. Annoyed with Madison's stop-and-go traffic at this time of the day, I pulled off into the Walmart parking lot, maybe I'd wander around the store for a while, try to calm down. I glanced in the rearview mirror as I parked the car… god… I looked worse than I expected. Maybe I could duck in the bathroom and get the blood off my face before too many people saw me.

As I walked across the parking lot, trying to avoid making eye contact with a group of boys that were looking at me suspiciously, I saw the pay phone. Wow, I didn't realize places even HAD payphones anymore. But, then again, about the only non-mall place I shopped was the new the new Super Walmart... the place rocked my freaking world. No matter how much money you might have… there's nothing quite like a SuperWalmart.

I veered over to the phones, trying to swing my hair in front of my face and obscure the view of the blood trickling from my busted lip and the scratch above my eye. Fucker. I'd make him pay for that later. I picked up the phone, cringing at the idea of how much funk was probably on the receiver. Who was I going to call? All my friends around here would probably just tell me that every guy goes a little nuts sometimes, especially when you're trying to kick them out of your house. Sorry, not what I wanted to hear. I sighed, dialing the one person that I knew would be honest with me…or at least give me some male insight.

I hated calling collect, but I didn't really have any other options… and I figured my chances of catching him at home were ridiculously small. I told the operator the number when she picked up and held my breath.

I heard the connection and then the operator asked if he'd accept the charges for a collect call. "A collect call… what the…"

"EMMETT! IT'S ROSE! TAKE THE FUCKING CALL!" I yelled. I knew he'd take it when he knew it was me.

I was right, he did take it… I couldn't bring myself to tell him why I was calling right away. I was honestly a little worried I was going to start crying. I was scared and I was mad, but I'd kill myself trying to make sure no one else knew that. When he finally got me to say something, it was just anger he heard, I'm sure. I WAS pissed. I'd been chased around with a fucking knife and got clocked hard enough a few times I'm surprised I could see straight enough to drive. I left part of it out, of course, I didn't want Emmett to know how bad things were really. I surprised myself when I told him it wasn't the first time Riley had tried – and succeeded - to hurt me. He asked why I stayed… hell if I know. Well, part of me knew… because I didn't know what else TO do. I kept thinking, he's a fucking CPA – he's just got a bad temper sometimes.

No, he's got a bad temper ALL the time.

Math nerd accountant stereotypes be damned, Riley was a wild card. And I was in no mood or shape to deal with him any more tonight. I couldn't even stop the tears when they started then… I didn't care who was watching, either. It wasn't the first time Emmett heard me cry and it probably wasn't going to be the last.

Emmett suggested I come to Tampa. That's fine and good… but how the hell am I supposed to get there? I grabbed my keys off the counter as I was running out the door… I didn't have time to grab my purse or my cell phone. I was just glad the keys were accessible… and that Riley didn't follow me. Fucker probably thought I'd be stupid and come back. Wrong.

Emmett said he'd make travel arrangements for me… all I had to do was drive to the airport. I can do that. What else am I going to do right now? Florida, here I come.