FluffyLiz - Where Roads Converge.pdf

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Copyright Page
This book was automatically created by FLAG on August 14th, 2013, based on
content retrieved from http://www.fanfiction.net/s/9061275/ .
The content in this book is copyrighted by FluffyLiz or their authorised
agent(s). All rights are reserved except where explicitly stated otherwise.
This story was first published on March 2nd, 2013, and was last updated on
August 3rd, 2013.
Any and all feedback is greatly appreciated - please email any bugs, problems,
feature requests etc. to flag@erayd.net .
Summary
A homeless boy, hitch-hiking in the snow, a woman on her own, running from an
abusive relationship. Is she crazy to stop, or are their paths destined to cross? Can
this mismatched pair find succour and salvation together, or will their pasts intrude
and drive them apart? AH, rated M
- 4 -
Escape
Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or any of its characters; no copyright
infringement intended.
Huge thanks to my wonderful beta, Mauigirl60, and to my brilliant 'PR'
woman, Cared.
Visuals for this story can be found on my story blog at www dot fluffyliz
dot com or in my Facebook group - link on my profile.
At the start of this story, Edward is 19 and Bella is 29.
WARNING: This first chapter contains two brief scenes of domestic
violence and alludes to - but does not graphically describe - an act of
non-consensual sex. I apologise in advance if this is something which some
readers may find upsetting or difficult to read.
Chapter 1 ~ Escape
The front door of the well-appointed town house in London's trendy Docklands
flew open, sucking huge gouts of frigid air into the hallway as a woman emerged,
bundled in thick outdoor clothing and carrying a large and heavy-looking holdall.
Despite her obvious haste, she navigated the steps to ground level with practiced
caution, walking round to the back of a glossy black Land Rover Sport parked at the
kerbside. Opening up the back of the car, she awkwardly manhandled the big bag
into the rear compartment and then went quickly back inside the house. Mere
moments later, she returned with a larger suitcase and a smaller but still sizeable
holdall, all of which she packed into the back of the vehicle. One more trip indoors
and she emerged for the final time, carrying what appeared to be a document
storage box, an artist's portfolio case, a laptop bag looped across her body and a
voluminous shoulder bag dangling from her wrist.
Leaning the portfolio against the balustrade, she pulled the door quietly closed,
and hitched her leg up to balance the obviously heavy box on her thigh, her foot
braced against the door. Her breath crystallised in the icy November night as she
slung the strap of her bag over her head so that it was secured comfortably across
her body, cross-wise to her computer case. Once she was satisfied neither would
impede her, she hefted the box up, picked up the portfolio and turned to go down
- 5 -

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