Jo gets out of the taxi, lifts her head up to the sun for a second, and grabs her backpack from the back seat. The leather bag holds everything she owns, which is not much anymore. 

She subconsciously touches the fresh scar on her cheek as she starts walking towards the boardwalk. Venice Beach... What the hell has she gotten herself into now? 

This destination wasn't high on her travel bucket list but for some reason, she was drawn to this place. Besides, the first flight out of Schiphol Airport that wasn't within Europe was one to LAX. And God knows she needed to put a lot of distance between herself and what used to be her home.

She tries to calm her mind while walking on the boardwalk, surrounded by happy people. But horrible memories rush in, making her legs shake and knees buckle. 

"Damn, I better find a place to sit down before I make a complete fool of myself".

She looks up and sees a cafe a few steps ahead. Taking a deep breath, she walks towards the entrance slowly, her legs shaking uncontrollably. She holds onto the door handle as she stumbles in, drops into the first chair she sees, and slowly breathes out. 

"Made it", she softly whispers to herself.

Sitting there with her head in her hands while trying to stop her body from shaking, despair creeps in, as she feels the burn of tears behind her eyes. 

She hears someone come up to her slowly, with soft footsteps, like they are afraid to scare or disturb her. Once the footsteps stop at her table, the stranger takes a breath and speaks in a calm, deep voice. 

"You look like you could use a hot cup of coffee." 

She looks up nervously and her eyes meet warm, brown eyes in a friendly face, belonging to a man who gives her the feeling that she can trust him. She slowly nods at him and tries to smile. As the man saunters off, she can't help but wonder why he feels trustworthy, he is nothing but a stranger to her. 

Stupid brain playing tricks on me. I should know by now that trusting a man only causes a lot of pain. She takes her glasses off to wipe her tears and sits up a little. At least the shaking has stopped, now to start breathing normally again and to keep these damn tears from spilling out. 

She softly scolds herself. "You've shed a lifetime's worth of tears on the plane over here. Pull yourself together already! What doesn't kill you, makes you stronger. Remember?" 

She mumbles part of some lyrics to give herself some courage. "This is my fight song, take back my life song..."

As she mumbles the last word, a cup of coffee appears in front of her. She thanks the man with a crack in her voice and quickly takes a sip. He nods and walks away. The warm, black fluid brings a bit of calm as it slides down her throat, warming her stomach.  She takes in the aroma of the coffee and a small smile appears on her lips. 

This is some good coffee. I better remember this place.

She grabs her journal and looks at the menu on the table to find the name. It says 'The Sidewalk Cafe' on top of the bright-colored, laminated paper. The pen in her hand moves to write the name down and draws a tiny mug of coffee with a heart next to it. 

She takes another sip, her body and mind relaxing more and more.

Lifting her head to put her glasses back on, she looks around, quickly realizing she ended up in a very masculine place. She giggles to herself as she notices a huge marble bar with a bunch of screens above it to watch sports on, even the furniture screams manly men. 

Yet for some reason, she doesn't feel uncomfortable. 

Of all the places I had to literally, stumble into.

The main reason she took the first flight out of The Netherlands, was to get as far away as humanly possible from the man that ruined her life for the past five years. She felt like running away from every male in the world, to be honest. And somehow she ended up in this cafe with testosterone coming from the floor and walls.

As Jo looks around some more, her eyes land on the man that provided her with the cup of coffee. He is cleaning the bar and seems to be deep in thought. She tries to guess his age, squinting while she finishes her coffee. He seems to be in his late forties and emanates protectiveness and kindness, something she has never felt from a man, especially not a man she doesn't even know. 

The only feeling that ever came close was the feeling her dad used to give her when she was little, that feeling of being loved and protected at all times. She sighs softly as she thinks of her dad. He has been gone for quite some time now but she still misses him every day. He was the only man she ever fully trusted and who didn't betray that trust. 

She lost her way in life after his death and drifted away from her mom. Her mother dealt with it in her own way. A way Jo couldn't support but had to accept. Her mom had the right to live her own life, even if they weren't on the same page. Mom traveled across the globe with various young men, sending her postcards from a new place every week. 

Jo moved into a tiny apartment, while she worked in a restaurant as a waitress to pay the bills. Life was passing her by and all the fun was sucked out of it. She only smiled when work required her to, the joy never reaching her eyes. 

All she did was work, eat, and sleep. 

It took a guest in the restaurant to shake up her boring life. Mark was a regular and always tried to get her to go out with him. She kept turning him down, not ready for it at all. Until her boss convinced her to finally say yes to the guy.

"It's not like you have anything else to do, girl. Try to have some fun." 

The words of her boss made her say yes. Mostly because the woman had always been good to her and she didn't want to disappoint her. 

The night of the date she tried her best to look nice. She braided her red, curly hair to keep it somewhat under control. It has always been wild and uncontrollable, her dad used to say that it was the one thing that always showed her true spirit, no matter what. 

She tried to ignore the pang in her heart, applying some mascara to her lashes and a bit of lip gloss before smiling at herself in the mirror. She slipped into a short, black dress and some black pumps with a low heel. 

Trying to hype herself up for the night, she told herself she looked beautiful a few times. 

All the girls in the restaurant were crazy about Mark with his dark eyes and dark hair. And always wearing tailor-made suits that seemed to be melted onto his body. He had a nice smile too. 

There really was no reason she shouldn't go out with him. And she had turned him down more than enough. A guy like that wasn't going to try forever. Besides, life wasn't going to become fun on its own. She knew she had to make an effort too. 

The second her doorbell rang, she was completely ready to start living again. She opened the door and saw Mark standing there, wearing a black formal shirt and black pants. He looked very handsome, smiled at her, and asked her if she was ready to go. She nodded a bit shy, grabbed her keys and he offered her his hand as they walked out. Her hand slid into his and he gave it a gentle squeeze, the little gesture providing her with a sense of safety.

She never saw anything bad back then. There was not even the tiniest hint of his cruel side. He was so handsome and very loving, always making sure she had everything she needed. She fell for him hard, thinking he was the perfect boyfriend. 

The day he hit her for the first time, he managed to convince her it was her fault and that it would never happen again. And she believed him...

And now she's sitting in a cafe in Venice Beach, shaking her head to get rid of the memories that came flooding back into her brain. 

The man behind the bar is staring at her with a worried expression on his face. She gives him a nervous smile and he comes from behind the bar with two cups of coffee in his hands. 

"May I join you for a minute? I can use a break and it's not too busy right now." 

She nods and he sits down before holding his hand out to her. 

"I'm Jake. I own this place." 

She shakes his hand. "I'm Jo. This is all I own in this world", slightly lifting her backpack off the floor.  

She sees a worried look in his eyes for a second before he composes himself and looks at her with kind eyes. Jake sips his coffee while frowning a little, probably looking for something to say.

As he looks her over, he asks: "You are not from here, are you?" 

Was it that obvious? She thought her English was decent enough. Besides people from all over the world live here, right? 

"Um, no I'm not from here. I'm from The Netherlands."

Jake looks up in surprise and says with a thick accent: "Welkom in mijn café, mooie dame." 

That was a welcome Jo didn't expect, especially not in her mother tongue. She gives Jake a warm smile. "Where did you learn to say that?" 

Jake leans back in his chair and tells a story about a woman he used to love, who came from The Netherlands. She moved to California to become a model. She taught him some Dutch phrases and he never forgot. The twinkle in his eyes shows how much he loved this woman. 

Jo can't help but smile at the ease he shares such a personal story with her. 

His smile fades as his eyes move to her backpack, a frown forming between his eyebrows again. "Are you here on holiday?", he asks in a worried tone. 

Jo stays silent for a bit, debating how much of her truth she is willing to share with this man. The only thing she could think of was running away from The Netherlands. Far away. But she didn't even know where she was going before she ended up at Schiphol Airport. She just picked LAX, because it was the first, not fully booked flight that felt far away enough. 

She cried the entire flight, curled up in a ball in her chair, losing all sense of time and place.

And when she walked out of the airport, she asked the taxi driver to take her to Venice Beach because she saw a sticker of it on someone's suitcase. Everything was decided on a whim, driven by her need to get away from her old life.

She clears her throat. "A very unplanned holiday but I am going to try to stay here for a bit." 

Jake looks deep into her eyes as if he's trying to find her story in there and then nods. "Running away from something bad, obviously. Like so many of us on this planet. Don't worry I am not going to ask you about it. But if it was very unplanned, I doubt you have a place to stay tonight." 

Kindness shows on his face as he waits for her reply. 

Jo looks up at him with panic in her eyes and shakes her head. 

"Come with me." 

He grabs her backpack and points at the door behind the bar. Jo stands up and follows him, not sure what to make of it all. But he still seems trustworthy somehow.

Jake walks through the door and ascends the stairs on the other side of the kitchen. He stops in front of a door, looking back to see if she followed him before opening the door and putting her bag on a chair in the corner. 

"There you go. Your room for the night. And maybe even more nights but we'll talk about all of that later. Get settled in, take a nap. And if you need anything, come back down. The bathroom is two doors down the hall. And I will not take no for an answer. Oh, and I am not a serial killer. I am just helpful sometimes." 

He winks at her, walking back downstairs before she can protest.

Jo sinks down on the bed and blinks her eyes a few times, still not quite understanding what just happened. All she could think of was running, in the middle of the night, with all the money she'd secretly saved up. She never took the time to think about anything else. 

How stupid must one be to fly out to a foreign country and travel to a place where you don't know a single soul?

The tears stream down her face and her breathing becomes shallow as she thinks back on the moment she decided to run. It was one of the shittiest days of her life. 

She lost her cat, Tony, that day. Her soulmate and sunshine on four legs, as she used to call him. The vet found a growth in his stomach and on the x-rays it was clear to see that his lungs weren't clean either. 

He was a big, orange tabby and totally devoted to her. Something Mark seriously hated but for some reason he let her keep the cat. In hindsight, it was probably a tool to show her how kind he could be when she was being 'unreasonable' again. 

She had been crying all day when Mark came home from work. He looked at her and the mess around the house. "You look awful and so does this place. You should have made more of an effort for the man you claim to love!" 

She tried to tell him about Tony in a broken voice and all he said was: "Finally, no more competition from that beast. Now I have you all to myself!"

She sank down to the floor and cried, covering her face with her hands. "You could show me some compassion, like the vet did", she softly said.

She regretted saying it the second the words left her lips because Mark grabbed her by her hair and dragged her over to the kitchen. His eyes turned black and filled with rage as he screamed. "Would you rather be with this vet? Is he handsome?" 

He grabbed her by the throat and pushed her against the counter, his free hand rummaging through the drawer on her right. He pulled out the sharpest knife and pushed the blade against her cheek while yelling at her.

"You're a dirty whore! You are mine! Till your dying breath! You hear me?"

He went silent, the second her cheek started bleeding.

As the blood ran down her face, he whispered angrily in her ear. "I will make you look uglier than you already are. To make sure no man will ever want to look at your hideous face again!" 

Jo stood still like a statue, too scared to move or say something and terrified he would use the knife to end her life. She held her breath and closed her eyes to avoid seeing the anger shooting from his eyes. 

He suddenly kissed her on the lips and turned around while shouting. "I am leaving for the night! I will find a woman worthy of my love and attention! You better think long and hard about your behavior! And I expect a better welcome when I come back home tomorrow!" 

He slammed the door behind him and Jo stood there frozen for a long time, afraid to breathe again.

With her eyes still closed, she finally took a few jagged breaths as a song came to mind. 'Were you born to resist or be abused? Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you?' 

And at that exact moment, something clicked. 

She grabbed her backpack and walked into the bedroom, finding clothes that used to be hers before Mark. Most of them way too big, but still hers and hers alone. She added her journal to the bag, kneeling in front of the closet to stick her hand into one of her boots and pulling out a credit card. The corner of her mouth curving up a tiny bit.

Her smile grew a little wider when she walked into the bathroom until she looked into the mirror and saw the blood on her cheek. She opened the tap and held the tip of a towel under it, wincing as she tried to clean it up. She leaned forward to inspect the cut and sighed when she saw how deep the wound was. 

"Damn, it's going to be a scar forever. It better remind me to never trust a guy again!" 

She grabbed some toiletries, her passport and wallet, rushing out the door without looking back. The smile on her face full-on now, fed by the adrenaline rushing through her veins. 

And that's how she ended up at Schiphol Airport at night, with only one thing on her mind: flee.

Jo takes her glasses off and curls up on the bed above the cafe, closing her eyes, and falling asleep almost immediately. 

She didn't even have time to close the door, her body just shut down from all of the raging emotions. 

Jake checked on her an hour later and covered her up with a blanket from the foot of the bed. He grabbed a fresh towel from his room and put it on her chair before closing the door behind him.

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So here it is. 

The first chapter of my first book.

I hope you enjoyed reading it.

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