Rhett shoved the wine glass into Scarlett's hands. "Drink it," he ordered roughly. Scarlett complied, the glass fumbling in her fingers as she gulped it down as quickly as possible. The wine felt cold rushing down her throat, and she shuddered.

"Good girl," said Rhett coyly, his drunken palms carressing her cheeks. "Now have another." He reached in front of her and poured another glass of wine. The smile on his face was eerily white. His dark eyes flickered with barely concealed rage and hatred.

Scarlett was cornered. There was only one thing her instinct told her to do when she was cornered, and that was to fight. She fought dirty, like an alley cat, and bit and clawed until her assailants gave up. When Rhett backed away to watch her drink the wine, she paused for a moment to judge the distance and then threw the wine glass in his face as hard as she could. Then she leapt out of her chair and ran.

"You little slut! You won't get away from me tonight!" Rhett roared behind her as he chased her blindly out of the room. Scarlett slammed the door behind her and caught a quick glance of Rhett's twisted, bloody face just as she turned around. It had bits of glass sticking out of the soft parts of his skin, and it was filled with more rage and intense physical pain than she had ever thought possible. It was even more horrible than the face of the Yankee deserter at Tara after she had shot him, with a massive red hole in his forehead covered in black gunpowder and little bits of brain matter. That was a face that could no longer hurt her. This was a face that was determined to hurt her if it was the last thing it did.

Scarlett ran barefoot out the front door and into the cold night. Once she had locked the heavy double doors behind her, she paused and leaned on them to catch her breath. Her heart was pounding a mile a minute, and she could hear Rhett' crazed footsteps approaching her from inside. This had been the worst day of her life. First the whole misunderstanding with Ashley and being caught by Archie in an innocent embrace, then the birthday party, and now this. She knew immediately that she could never return home to that house. She had to go away. But where to? It was the middle of the night.

Scarlett started running in the direction of the Wilkes' house. She knew it was preposterous, but she had nowhere else to go. After all, Melly couldn't turn her away, not after what she had just done for her. In all Scarlett's frantic thoughts, it never occurred to her to go back and get the kids. It was too late to turn back towards that house, and besides, Rhett had no interest in harming the children. It was Scarlett he wanted.

The cobblestones were cold and rough on Scarlett's feet, and she yelped in pain with every step she took. Picking cotton at Tara had been nothing compared to this. Tiny pebbles got lodged between her toes, and she shook them out as she ran, trying to keep out of the streetlights so that Rhett wouldn't see her. She didn't dare look back to see if he was chasing her. Perhaps he had already given up and had gone to bed to sleep off his drunkenness. But even so, she couldn't go back. She had to spend the night with Ashley and Melanie, no matter how humiliating. Pitty's house was not an option; she would never voluntarily room with Pitty again as long as she lived.

When Scarlett finally arrived at the Wilkes' house, she stood on the front porch and rang the doorbell. She stayed out of the porchlight so as not to be seen in her humiliation. She also stayed beneath the window so Melly wouldn't know it was her before she opened the door to let Scarlett in. When no one came, Scarlett looked around and dared to ring the doorbell again. They were probably asleep, because they were a boring couple and had nothing better to do. She envied them.

But it wasn't Melanie who came to the door. It was Ashley.

"Scarlett!" he exclaimed, putting his hand over his chest in a flustered way. "My goodness, you scared me out of my wits! I thought the only people who came to call at such hours were Yankee soldiers! I almost had a heart attack! What is it you need? Haven't you caused enough trouble for one day?"

"Ashley, thank God," Scarlett whispered. "You've got to let me in. Please. It's an emergency. Rhett- I can't say such things, but he's very drunk and I'm afraid he's going to hurt me. You have to let me stay here. It'll only be tonight, I promise. Then I'll take the train to Jonesboro and figure out what I'm going to do."

"Come in," said Ashley, stepping aside. He looked down and noticed her bare feet. "Oh dear, you came here without any shoes! Your feet must be terribly cut up. Here, take my slippers. I'll get you some water so you can wash your feet." He led her into the kitchen. "I always knew that Captain Butler was nothing but bad news," he said. "Well, don't worry, you won't ever have to face him again. He ought to be ashamed of himself for all he's done to you." He poured some water into a porcelain bowl and put it on the floor beneath a chair. "I think it would be best if we don't wake Melanie. She'll find out soon enough, and it will only worry her. But just know that if there's anything you need to tell me, I swear to hold it in the strictest confidence."

"Where am I to sleep?" Scarlett asked. "On the davenport downstairs?"

"No," said Ashley, shaking his head. "I would spare you such an indignity. Sleeping on davenports is for tramps, and I certainly would not put a friend and neighbor who feared for her safety in such a position. You are our guest and you shall room with Beau upstairs."

Belatedly, Scarlett remembered that Archie was sleeping somewhere in the house. The thought filled her with abject terror. She never would have come if she had remembered. If she had been afraid of facing Rhett, the prospect of facing Archie was ten times as petrifying. As Ashley began to leave the room, Scarlett grabbed his sleeve. "You've got to hide me from Archie," she whispered frantically. "He can't know that I'm here. He won't understand what happened, he'll blame it all on me." She pulled him in closer. "Ashley, Archie will kill me."

"Archie is in the cellar," Ashley whispered back. "He sleeps like a rock and doesn't wake up until nine in the morning at the earliest. I guarantee you that you will be safe. Do you think I would let an old convict murder a guest in my house?" He paused and leaned in closer. "I could take you over to Pittypat's. Just sneak you across the yard, and no one would be the wiser."

It was unspoken between them that they dared not go to the police. The police were all Yankees and Scallawags, and Rhett Butler had every one of them in his back pocket. They wouldn't press charges against their poker buddy in a million years. Besides, the Yankees were already suspicious of Ashley Wilkes for being part of the Klan raid on Shantytown in '66. And even if the Yankees were to arrest Captain Butler, on what grounds? Drunkenness? Trying to assert his rights as a married man, that's how they would see it.

Scarlett shook her head vehemently and looked at the floor. Pride was stronger than reason in her, and she said, "I won't go to Pitty's. She's just a silly, foolish old maid, and she's gossip about me to everyone in town." But the alternative was rooming with a nine-year-old boy who was so timid that he jumped at his own shadow?

"Come upstairs," Ashley said. He struck a match and lit the lamp in the middle of the kitchen table. Scarlett tried to imitate his ease and confidence as he walked up the stairs, but she walked slowly and on tiptoe, keeping her weight low and pressed against the railing because she did not know where the stairs in this house creaked.

"Here we are," said Ashley, opening the door to Beau's nursery. Beau lay fast asleep in the corner. "I'll be right back to bring you a spare mattress. And I don't think I have to tell you not to mention any of this to Beau. It would only frighten him."

"While you're at it," Scarlett whispered, "bring me a pistol. I'll put it under my pillow, just in case."

"Good thinking," Ashley whispered back. He entered slowly into Beau's room and shook his son lightly awake. "Beau, Mrs. Butler is going to be sleeping in your room tonight. Is that all right, as long as she promises not to bother you?"

Scarlett winced that Ashley felt it proper to ask his son's permission to have a guest in his room. Why, if she ever set up a guest in Wade's room, she certainly wouldn't need to ask the boy's permission, and Wade knew enough to respect that. She would do whatever she wanted, because she was the mother and she was in charge. No wonder Beau was growing into such a wuss, if his parents asked for his permission for every little thing. Not that Wade was much better on that front.

Beau rubbed his eyes groggily and nodded at his father. "Hello, Mrs. Butler," he said softly.

"Hello, Beau," said Scarlett drily. "You can go back to sleep now."

"Daddy, why can't Mrs. Butler sleep with you and Mommy?"

"Beau," said Ashley firmly, embarrassed at his son's question, "it is very important that you do not let Archie know that Mrs. Butler is here. If he asks about her, you say- " he broke off.

"I say what?"

"You say that you haven't seen her anywhere since Daddy's party and you assume she must be at home. Her home, Captain Butler's home. You understand? This won't be for long, she'll be gone by tomorrow afternoon."

"Daddy," said Beau sweetly, "has Mrs. Butler done something bad?"

"No," said Ashley softly. "Don't believe any of the rumors you hear about her. Those are spread by some very malicious people, including Archie. But they only say those things because they don't understand how hard things have been for Mrs. Butler and how hard she had to work to get to where she is. Mrs. Butler has done so much for Mommy and me, it is only fitting that we should return the favor whenever we can."

"Does this have something to do with the Yankees?" Beau asked.

"No," said Ashley. "This has to do with Mrs. Butler and her husband. And it's not our place to ask questions about the personal lives of our friends and neighbors."

"Did Wade and Ella and Bonnie come here too?" Beau asked. "I want to see them."

"Mrs. Butler's children are at home, sleeping," said Ashley. "Mrs. Butler didn't have time to bring them because it was an emergency."

Suddenly Scarlett felt a pang of guilt for leaving her children in the house. But what else was she supposed to do? It wasn't like she could hide three sniveling brats while she was being chased by a madman with glass stuck in his face.

Beau seemed to have run out of questions, and Ashley left the room to go fetch Scarlett's gun and mattress. "Beau, be a good boy and give Mrs. Butler one of your pillows," he said as he opened the door.

Beau made a face, but he reached underneath his covers and handed Scarlett his smallest, least desirable pillow. "Thank you," Scarlett said. "I doubt I'll be able to sleep anyway." She lay down on the rug to wait for Ashley to return. It was hard enough talking to one of her own children, and with someone else's it was practically impossible. Thankfully, Beau wasn't one of those children who enjoyed talking to adults, or to other children for that matter. Those were, in Scarlett's opinion, the very best kind of children: the ones who were neither seen nor heard.

It was funny. A year ago, she would have found this whole experience so romantic-running away after a horrible night with Rhett into Ashley's waiting arms, the two of them going upstairs without waking Melanie, Ashley leading her into her room... but now, she felt nothing at all. She was too exhausted to even feel terror. All she had done was traded one imminent danger for another. And her safety now depended on a nine-year-old boy's ability to keep his mouth shut in the face of a misanthropic, misogynistic ex-con with an itchy trigger finger.

Suddenly, staring up at the ceiling, she had another thought. Upon sobering up and realizing that she was gone, Rhett's first action would probably be to disappear and take her children with him. He wouldn't tell anyone where they had gone- maybe to Europe for all she knew- and then she, Scarlett, would have no way of getting her children back. Or else he would go looking for her, and Tara would be the first place he would think to look. And she was not going to let that happen.

A/N: Please review! (800th GWTW story on this site (: ) I didn't mean to make Ashley sound like such a sissy, but I know it kind of came across that way. He's actually kind of a BAMF in the book.

Not really sure where this story is going. Can't even remember if Archie was still living with the Wilkeses at this point, but wanted to add another layer of suspense to the story. I know it's pretty unlikely that Scarlett and Ashley would be this careless, but don't worry, I won't let Scarlett die.

I just really wanted to punish Rhett for what he did to Scarlett. I think his actions are really unforgivable in this scene and I hate the fact that Scarlett never got any kind of retribution. Yes, he does suffer in the end, but they really sanitized the rape scene for the movie and played down how broken Rhett had become. So here is Scarlett standing up for herself.

What will Melanie think of Scarlett's arrival under these circumstances? What will Rhett and the children do about her sudden disappearance? Will Belle Watling make an appearance? Will Mammy kick ass? Will Suellen be no help at all? Find out the answers to these and more questions in the continuation.