His scarred hands are the gentlest I've ever known. If only life were a fairy tale where Beauty got to keep her Beast... Every morning I wake up and remind myself I am not my past, but beneath my drab clothing hides a secret--proof of the abuse I suffered at the hands of my possessive ex, tattooed on my skin in a lurid reminder of everything I've survived. I'm alone and in hiding, trying to rebuild some semblance of a normal...