A/N: Set one year after the epilogue in Fifty Shades Freed and follows on from the events in my stories Light and Shade and Scarlet and Grey. The one-shot Walking Away acts as a prequel to The Devil's Kitchen.

I really hope you enjoy this story and I'd love any feedback that you can give.

THE DEVIL'S KITCHEN

Prologue

11.35pm. April 4th, 1992

She hid under her quilt. But it didn't block out the sound of male hand connecting with female skin in the bedroom next door. Nor did it mask the occasional, pleading 'stop' that mommy uttered to no avail. He never stopped. Not until he was exhausted and even then he sometimes started again after he'd thought of something else to beat her about. Some nights there were other sounds too. Not the slap of flesh on skin, but the bang of wooden headboard against the wall. But that wasn't happening tonight. Tonight was all about what mommy had done wrong. Her dress was cut too low, he said, and 'everybody' could see her breasts. Andrea could only see the slight hint of the shadow between the two but perhaps if you were tall like daddy, you could indeed see mommy's breasts. Later on mommy had answered the phone and burned the dinner. He hadn't liked that. After dinner, Reverend Peters had stopped by and she'd 'made eyes' at him. Andrea didn't notice mommy making eyes at Reverend Peters. She and her best friend Connie made eyes, seeing who could open theirs the widest and stare for longest. Mommy hadn't done that; she'd simply looked at Reverend Peters when he'd spoken to her. But mommy could never do anything right.

More recently, neither could Andrea and as the slapping next door stopped, Andrea buried herself deeper under the covers fearful of what might come next. She shut her eyes and lay as still as she could. If she pretended to be asleep maybe he wouldn't do the same to her. That and the even worse thing he did. Her hand found the buttons at the top of her pajama jacket and she grasped them tightly. Her heart was pounding and because of that he'd realize that she wasn't asleep.

She listened intently as his footsteps came out of the bedroom. She heard the stifled sobs from mommy, the familiar sound of a cigarette being lit and the even more familiar sound of the door handle to her bedroom being turned. Andrea screwed up her eyes and prayed as hard as she could that tonight would be different, that tonight he would leave her alone. Please God. Please? Tomorrow was her eighth birthday.

But God was not answering the prayers of a little girl tonight. The smell of beer and tobacco hit her just a moment before her Daddy's hand did and Andrea Parker tried fruitlessly to wriggle free as he yanked back the covers.