Dark themes ahead. Ye be warned.

"You only really fall apart in front of the people you know can piece you back together."
-Sarah Dessen, Saint Anything

I was around nine when I first went to the fair with my babysitter. Majority of the time, I stuffed my face with all sorts of sweets until I felt sick. However, that came to an end when I heard the sound of cheerful screaming coming from nearby. I knew then that I had to figure out what it was all about. No sooner than later I found my answer in the amusement ride called the Fireball. The ride was a massive, mechanical red circle that rocked you backward and forwards gradually climbing further up to the top until you were flipped upside down. I watched in a sort of awe as it carelessly spun the passengers around and around like clothes in the washer. Although it sort of looked terrifying, I knew that I wanted to tackle something much more than the kiddie rides. Something that made you feel.

My babysitter was either really kind or really wanted a raise because she let me go on anything I wanted. Therefore when I pointed to the big red mechanical circle with glee, she let me go after discovering I barely made the requirements to ride.

At first, the steady rocking of going backward and forwards was almost soothing, until it kept climbing higher. My fear increased tenfold when I felt like at any moment my stomach would come out of my mouth. I was being jerked around everywhere, sometimes losing my breath as we lurched forward at an unnatural speed. And when we got to the very top, our bodies dangling upside down, all the blood rushing to our fingertips, I finally screamed along with the others. Only mine was out of fear.

I remembered that feeling of being in complete, mind-numbing fear as I squeezed my eyes shut praying that it would be over soon. Thankfully it did, and I naively thought that same amount of fear could never be replicated. And for a while, it wasn't.

Until today.

My mind kept churning and spinning around and around as if I was still on the ride as I processed what had just happened at the elevators. Although I squeezed my eyes shut and hoped that everything would be over soon, nothing actually changed. My father was still in this hotel, he knows where I am, and he wants me back. My demons from my past have finally come out to play.

I felt cold from the inside out, and I don't know when the last time I actually said a word, but I was suddenly jerked back to reality when I felt something warm pressed against my hand. I looked down to see a styrofoam cup filled with a brown, steaming liquid being placed in my palm provided by a hand covered in black ink. It only took two seconds to register who it was. Five before I looked up at him.

"I found some packets of hot chocolate near the coffee maker," Gage informed softly. "I figured you would need it."

My eyes shifted back down to the plain muted-white cup with a little apprehension. I had completely lost my appetite after all of this, but I had to admit, the sweet scent rolling off the drink slowly made my taste buds come to life. And when I took the first sip, the feeling of the hot liquid running down my throat casted away the chill left by lingering shock. He was right, I needed it.

"Thank you," I wiped off any residue from my top lip and placed the cup to the side. It was then that I realized we were not inside the room but instead on the balcony. I don't remember getting here, but I'm sure this was all Gage's doing. How out of it was I?

"Do you need anything else?" he asked, his blue eyes trained on me in deep concern.

I shook my head. "Not really."

"Okay." He was silent for a moment before adding, "Do you need me to leave so you can have some time by yourself?"

Fear instantly returned filling my head with all sorts of thoughts about what would happen if Gage were to leave and I reached out for his hand. "No! Please, don't."

He immediately backtracked. "Okay, okay. I won't. I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking."

I held his hand in mine with a vice-like grip a moment longer before he gently pulled me over to sit on his lap. As soon as I was there his thick arms wrapped around my torso holding me close against his body.

"See? I'm here. I won't let you go."

The second I was in his arms I felt like I could finally breathe. Being with Gage warmed me up a lot more than the hot chocolate ever would. I was calm. I was happy. I was safe.

"Thank you," I mumbled.

A gentle kiss on the back of my head was his response.

Silence returned like an old friend and together we sat there looking at the view in front of us from the balcony. It was a pleasant sight, but it was muddled by the reality of what was going on. I couldn't fully enjoy all the palm trees and nightlife. And I know that although Gage hasn't said anything yet, he wanted answers. There was no way he wasn't confused about what happened back there. Although I could try to pretend like everything was fine and just enjoy the view, it's not. We both knew it too.

With that in mind, I took in a deep breath mentally preparing myself for what was to come. If I was being honest, didn't want to do this. But the night only lasts for so long and he needed to know. Therefore with only slight hesitation, I asked, "Do you still want to know?"

"Hmm?" he adjusted in the seat. "Know what?"

"At Disney you said you wanted to know everything about me," I said. "The good, and the bad."

There was a pause before, "I do, but not if it's going to be too much for you."

"I'll be okay."

"Katy, don't say that if it's not true."

"But it is," I placed my hand on top of his. "I will be okay since you're here."

Gage reverted back to silence before I felt his chest rise and fall. "Okay."

I decided on my own that if I was going to do this, I needed two things: 1) to tell him face-to-face, and 2) to be inside so nobody else might overhear. As much as I was enjoying the cool night air, I needed to be in a place that wasn't audible to anybody besides Gage before confessing something this big.

Therefore I reluctantly climbed off his lap and directed him back to our bedroom, even closing the door behind us for added privacy. Just in case. Once that was done, we started making our way to the bed that only hours ago we made love on. Now, here we were seconds away from me confessing the deepest parts of my life to him. This was not how I was planning today to go.

For some reason, I thought this day would never come to where I would have to tell Gage about my demons. But, I guess if I never did I would be a hypocrite since I made him spill about his own not too long ago. It would be unfair if I was to make him confess something so personal and I kept mine bottled up and tucked away. This was for the best, I kept reminding myself. For us.

Gage took his place on the edge of the bed, but I couldn't join him. My nerves were so shot I really just wanted to walk around some. So I remained standing, pacing slightly as I fabricated my speech. The entire time Gage watched me warily as if waiting for me to change my mind, but that wouldn't happen. I was sure about this.

"Okay." I cleared my throat a few times before beginning, "So . . . I'm not really sure how to start this. I guess we could just go all in, but that's not exactly healthy. Especially for me. And I can't just beat around the bush either. But, uh . . . well . . . I don't know. Hannah Montana makes revealing your secret identity seem a lot easier than this."

"Katy," Gage jumped in. "Just breathe. And focus. Take all the time you need to get started."

"Right . . . you're right. Sorry. It's just been an incredibly awful day."

"I know, baby. And seriously if you don't want to--"

"No, no. Stop," I waved him off. "That's not an option. Just . . . give me two more seconds."

"Okay," he crossed his arms in front of his chest, watching me intently as I paced back and forth.

I know that I wasn't looking forward to this because I didn't want to remember all the nasty stuff I try to forget. But why else am I nervous? It's not like Gage will judge me. If anything he's the last person to. So I definitely shouldn't feel this anxious. But naturally those 'what-if' thoughts came into play and I felt all nauseous again, but when I looked back to Gage, the epitome of patience, I knew I had nothing to worry about. He loves me, and I love him. So really I'm just acting ridiculous.

"Okay, I think I'm ready now." I stopped pacing to look at him finally and ask, "What do you want to know?"

He looked slightly thrown off by the sudden urgency in my tone. "Well . . . a lot but . . ." he ran his fingers through his hair in thought before saying, "I guess we can start with that man, Malcolm. Is he really your father?"

"Yes." I replied then added, "At least, biologically."

Gage made a face. "He's horrible."

"More than you know."

"I just don't understand how you could be related to that. You're so kind and caring and he's an asshole."

"I think about that sometimes myself. I have no clue where my genes came from, and he definitely didn't raise me to be the way I am now." I thought about the for a second then said, "Actually he didn't raise me at all. I just . . . lived at his house, ate his food, and slept there. It took me awhile to figure out I was more of a guest than his daughter."

"Wow. Seriously? That's fucked up."

"It was. But, I made it," I offered a small smile.

"You did," Gage nodded in agreement.

When the silence started creeping back I launched another question to keep things rolling. "What else do you want to know?"

"Uh . . . well. Okay, I was wondering why he kept calling you Alexandria."

"I figured you would want to know," I nodded then cleared my throat once more. "You see . . . Katy is really my legal name. However, it is not the name I was born with. As you probably already guessed, to my family I am Alexandria Devenue."

"You changed it?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

I tried to gather up an explanation but only came up with, "It's sort of a long story. But . . . I guess that's why we are here."

Instead of replying he went silent again, probably letting me gather my thoughts again which I was incredibly grateful for. Because what I was about to reveal next was exactly the thing I've been trying to avoid. Yet he needed to know about me if we were going to be together. Not just what I show others.

For this, I decided to take a seat on the floor in front of him rather than pacing. I knew I would need it eventually. Before I began I took in a deep, soothing breath, and looked straight up at him as I spoke.

"I'm not like you, Gage. As you probably figured out by now, I didn't grow up with a loving family. If anything my existence was a burden to my parents. Something they reminded me nearly every day," I looked down at my hands as if they held the memories in them. "I've never felt love or compassion, at least not from them. The only thing that kept me going was our caregiver, Ms. Katherine. To me, she was really my mother. She cared about me and treated me with such kindness all the time. Meanwhile my parents, mostly my father . . . did not."

I then curled my fingers into a fist wishing I could crush all the painful memories to dust. If only it was that easy

"He was . . . always so mad at me, and I didn't know why. I guess when he realized that he could gain no profit from me, he viewed me less as his daughter and more as a source for him to take his anger out on."

"What do you mean?" Gage asked with a cautious tone.

"For as long as I've known him . . . my father has always been emotionally abusive," I slowly began. "He would put me down every chance he got as if it were his favorite hobby. At first I was like my mother and blamed his behavior as a result of stress from running the business, but now I think that's just in his nature. For a while I only had to handle his verbal abuse, but when I got older, it wasn't enough for him."

Carefully, I rolled up my sleeve to show him my right forearm. On it was a faded, pale semi-circular mark that wasn't always easy to find at first glance, but I could always see it.

"One Halloween, a servant of ours was taking candy to bring back to her son and I caught her. Papa was coming in and I didn't want him to hurt her, so I took the blame instead and got this. This burn mark was his first and last mark he placed on me that Halloween night. I told Ms. Katherine that day that as soon as I was of legal age, I was leaving and wasn't returning. I figured she would try to stop me, but instead, she helped me," I smiled at the memory of the crazy redheaded Irish woman. "She was the one who introduced me to baking and knew my dreams of having my own bakery one day. So instead of berating it like my father, she instead assisted it by telling me of a culinary school in the southern part of Florida far away from Jacksonville. She also encouraged me to change my name so that they wouldn't try to find me there if they were to look for me. Therefore, the night of my eighteenth birthday, I became Katy Thomas. Named after the only person who truly loved me up at that point, Ms. Katherine."

Up until this point, Gage's expression was as hard as steel. It softened only slightly before I continued on with the rest of my story.

"A few days later I was gone with only a couple things in my suitcase and a small loan from Ms. Katherine. I had changed my name, my appearance, left town, and never looked back at that place. It wasn't an easy journey by any means, but honestly even in a shabby apartment with I was in a much happier place than the mansion I grew up in. I even met a few friends along the way like Lamar and the twins. Everything worked out for the best in the end." Then I thought of what happened at the elevators and my heart dropped. "I think."

After telling him all of this I started to feel a little weight lifted off my chest and I wondered if this was how he felt when he told me about the debt a while back. It was definitely nice, however, when I looked up to see Gage, I could tell he didn't feel the same at all. Instead he looked like he was about to rip something apart at any minute. It reminded me of the time at the beach when he saw that boy talking to Violet, only now he was far past livid.

"That . . . fucker . . . put his hands on you?"

I don't know why I felt like I had to be careful when I answered, " . . . Yes."

That was all Gage needed before he was immediately up from the bed.

"Don't follow after me, Katy."

Despite his protests, I was up before he reached the door shouting, "Wait! Gage, wait! Please!"

My desperation must have resonated with him because before he reached the handle he paused to turn and look at me with a genuinely frustrated expression.

"Katy, you told me not to go after Sparrow and I listened. But now this is going too far. He hurt you. He made you go into hiding. Do you really expect me to sit by and do nothing when he's sleeping somewhere in the same hotel?"

"I know, I know, and I promise I'm not making excuses for him. Believe me, I would love to see you put him in his place, but we have to consider something."

"What?"

"He's one of the sponsors."

Gage was silent a beat longer before, "Fuck it, I don't care. He crossed the line."

When he started tugging on the door I placed my hand on top of his hoping he would stop.

"Gage, please! Listen! It's not just about the competition! It's more than that. It's about Katy Cakes reputation as well. When we entered, we did so as representatives of the store. What would it say about my bakery if one of my employees got into a fight with the sponsor of this competition?"

"I'm sure they would understand if they knew why."

"Do you even know what that would mean? In order for that to even work you would have to tell them about why you did it. About me. Would you really be able to do that? To tell them something after I confided in you? Something that was incredibly personal to me?"

"What? No, of course not!"

"Then there is really no point in all of this. As much as I adore you trying to defend me, you can't this time. Not without hurting me even more."

In the time I've known Gage, I discovered that there was nothing he wouldn't do for those he loved. I also discovered how much trouble that could get him into. Despite his exterior, he really had a massive heart that he uses to guide his decisions more so than his brain. And although this is one of the things I love about him, it's also a flaw. I hate that I have to put things into perspective for him, especially when it means he has to stand by and not help, but it was necessary in the long run.

Slowly, and reluctantly, his hand slipped from the door at the same time he released a loud sigh. I may have gotten through to him, but I wasn't pleased with it in the slightest. If anything, it made me feel worse. Sometimes doing the right thing feels incredibly wrong.

"I'm not saying that I don't want you to do this for me," I said. "I'm just saying that . . . it's terrible timing. If this situation were to happen again, for whatever reason, I give you my full permission to defend me. But for now . . ."

Gage kept his eyes trained on the doorknob and I didn't have to read his mind to know what he was thinking. It was written all over his face. And when he turned to look at me he didn't hide any of it. He let me know how he was feeling which only worsened when he looked down to the mark on my forearm.

"You're killing me, Shortcake," his strained voice about broke my heart into a thousand pieces.

With that, I couldn't handle it anymore and I threw my arms around him holding on tightly.

"I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I know you are just trying to protect me and I don't want you to think I'm not grateful. There are just too many