Thank you for coming along to the party! This is going to be a Edward & Bella meets Killer Joe story. The first chapter is going to be Jasper's POV but after that it'll be Edward and Bella with maybe a few tiny little interjections from Jasper if it's necessary to the plot. Not Beta'd, mistakes are mine.

WARNING: Bella is 16 and Edward is 25 and that right there is probably enough to offend some people. Also, Bella is very emotionally stunted and childlike, so people may feel as though she is being taken advantage of.

OBLIGATORY DISCLAIMER: Neither Twilight and the relevant characters or the plot of Killer Joe belong to me.

Jasper POV

Fucking, fuck.

I was shitting bricks.

This wasn't supposed to happen to me. I was supposed to be one of the guys who went about his business all smart-like. Just sell my supply in my neighbourhood and be done. I wasn't trying to be the coke king of Dallas. I wasn't trying to move up or step on nobody's toes. I had no delusions of grandeur. I didn't want to make enough to live big. Just make enough to live. Period.

This kind of shit happened to asshole idiots who didn't know when to say when. Or accept that you got to answer to somebody. When you're selling blow, it's dangerous to try and be your own boss.

So I don't. I just buy from the big guys and sell around town and it's never been a problem. I never got in trouble.

Fucking mom.

I slammed my first against the steering wheel once, twice, and let out an aggravated groan between my teeth.

I'm going to fucking die.

I drove down the gravel road to the complex of shoddy tin units, one of which was my father's. Being a line worker in a stamping factory wasn't exactly an advantageous job, so my dad's place was basically one step up from a trailer park. My mom's place was nicer, which is why it's where I've mostly was bucketing down and the rain pelting my windscreen meant I had to swerve at the last minute to narrowly avoid hitting dad's Rottweiler, Bully.

I shifted the car in the park and hunched my back as I stepped out to protect my smoke from being snubbed out by the rain.

Bully went nuts and starting growling and barking at my proximity to the house.

"Shut the fuck up you little savage!" I yelled over the top of the rain.

I ran up to the door and started pounding. "Dad! Open up! It's Jasper!" It took a few minutes, but Tanya, my father's wife of three years, opened the door and being a few steps higher than me, my face was directly in line with her crotch. Which was naked.

"Christ, Tanya! Put some fucking pants on!" I bemoaned as I pushed past her none-to-gently and stepped into the house. "How long does it take you to open the fucking door. I was fucking dying out there." I walked towards the kitchen, peeling off my sopping jacket, jumper and undershirt and dropped them on the tiled floor with a wet slop as I opened the fridge and helped myself to a beer.

Tanya, hot on my heels, bit back, "It's 2.45 in the morning you little jerk. And "fucking" is not an adjective you stupid hick." Still naked except for a tiny camisole, she leaned back into the counter glaring at me. Bush on full display.

"I'm a hick? I'm not the one who answers the door pussy-first…"

"Who the fuck is it Tan?" My father yelled from another room, sounding freshly woken and very agitated. He walked out, scratching his Magnum moustache and beer belly simultaneously. He spotted me, "Chris, what the fuck? Did your mother kick you out again?" He questioned gruffly, looking none-too-pleased to see me.

"You hit her again?" Tanya interjected, scoffing at me.

"No! No, I did not her. Now can you please go put some fucking clothes on?" Tanya pushed off the counter while rolling her eyes and left the room. My father came and took her spot.

"So, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?" I ignored my father's question for a few moments and threw back half my beer in one scull.

"Where's Bells?" I asked instead of answering.

"Bed, sleeping." I nodded, staring distractedly towards her door. After the cluster-fuck of a week I had I kind of wanted to go into her room. Just to look at her curled up in bed. Sixteen and innocent and too sweet for this life. For this world even. Maybe that would be the motivation I needed to go on with what I think I'm going to have to do.

"Look…" he continued, "If your ma kicked you out again you can sleep on the couch tonight but then tomorrow you need to go make your peace with her or figure something else out, because Tan will have my nuts if I just let you stay here."

Acknowledging this with another nod I told him "Get dressed; we're going to go talk."

"We can't talk here?"

"No, we need to talk privately."

My father and I were at Lucky Lad, a strip club, drinking beers.

"Jasper" my father hedged "can you please just get the fuck on with it and tell me why I'm here."

I turned to him and sighed. "I need six grand Charlie. I need it or the Volturi boys are going to kill me." My father's face showed nothing but exasperation. "If you could just loan me a grand, I could hold 'em off with a grand while I figure something else out."

"Son," he laughed "I haven't had a grand to my name at any given time my entire life." He stared at me for a few moments, then; more seriously said "What's going on? What did you do?"

Frustrated, I pulled on my hair at the sides of my head. "I didn't do anything!" Fucking mom!"

"What does your mother have to do with you owing six grand to the Volturi cunts?" My father leaned in.

"Well, because that's about what the coke she stole from me was worth."

"Bullshit," he scoffed "Renee doesn't do coke. Your mother wouldn't touch that shit."

"She didn't use it recreationally dad. She fucking sold it. She screwed me the fuck over and then gave the money to her boy toy Phil to blow on the ponies. So now I got no coke, and no money to hand over." I slammed my hand against the table we were sat at, frustrated and fucking scared.

"Well kid, I'm sorry but I can't do anything for you." I inhaled long and deep, steeling myself for what I was to say to my father.

"Maybe not, but I think there's something who can." My father raised a bushy brow, silently telling me to continue. "Ever heard of Edward Cullen?" My father shook his head. "He's a detective at the county Sheriff's department, but he's got a job on the side. He's a killer."

"As in…"

"As in a professional killer. You pay and he takes care of it."

"So you want to get this cop to take down the Volturi boys?" He asks, looking at me like I'm a nutter.

"No." I tell him, looking him dead in the eye. The part that I'm about to tell him really does make me a nutter. "Mom."

He laughs, like I'm joking. "You don't got two cents to rub together, and you want to pay some guy to kill your mother because you're all sore that she stole some coke from you?" He sputters around his laughs. "Your mother is miserable bitch, and of all the shitty things she's done, that's probably the least worthy of killing her over."

"Dad." He's still laughing. "Dad!" He focuses his attention back on me. "Mom has life insurance for fifty thousand dollars." I look at him intently, waiting for him to see where I'm going with this. Realisation dawns on his face, but he doesn't balk. Or punch me. So I take it as a good sign to continue. "Bells is the beneficiary. This Cullen guy charges 15 grand. Does the job neat and clean, and is usually the officer investigating his own murders. He makes it go away. We pay him and split the other thirty-five three ways. Fifteen for me, ten for you and ten for Bells. I pay off my debt, Bells will be able to go to college and have a decent shot at life and you can do whatever the hell you want dad."

I wait for dad to respond but he's already sold. I can see it. He doesn't give a shit about mom and ten grand is too good to pass up.

"So how do we know this won't fuck up and the two of us won't end up bunk-mates in a cell?" I smile.

I pull back up to my dad's. Discussing the finer details of my plan. How to get in contact with Cullen and how to convince him to kill first and collect his payment later.

"Most importantly, you cannot tell Bells what's going on. She can't find out."

"Of course, of course" he murmurs, then looks past me, out my wound-down window. I turn my head around.

Bells is out the front in the pouring rain at 4.15. She's got this vacant look on her face. She's sleep-walking. She's been doing it since we were kids. It's fucking creepy and weird. But Bells has always been a little weird and off-kilter. She's innocent in every sense of the word and has an almost cripplingly naïve view of the world. She acts like a little kid.

We both used to live with mom after our parents got divorced when we she was six and I was twelve, but when Bells was eight, she almost suffocated in her sleep and was in a coma for a couple of days. After she got better, she went to stay with dad. She never talks about it, but that's probably because she's barely capable of having a serious conversation. After a while, when the years were passing but she wasn't mentally maturing, we took her back to the doctor and found out those precious minutes her brain was cut off from oxygen, left her a little brain damaged.

She's very childlike. Kinda just stuck. She doesn't really have any friends. She's never been on a date. Her bedroom looks like a unicorn threw-up a rainbow and plush toys all over it. She's been to doctors therapists though and they seem to think the fact that she's kind of stunted is a mental issue, not a physical one. They say there's no reason that she couldn't get on with it, grow up and have a normal life, except for the fact that she doesn't seem to want to.

She walks over to the car.

"What are you doing here?" she asks me in her trance.

"Mom kicked me out again."

"Did you build this city all by yourself?" She asks in wonder.

"Every last brick of it sweetheart." I smile at her. You learn to play along with whatever she says when she's like this. I don't want to confuse or startle her. And they say you shouldn't wake people up while they're sleep-walking.

She turns around and walks back into the house. Creepy.

"All righty then. I want to get at least another couple hours sleep before I need to go to work. Let's go in and set up the couch." My father says and I follow him into the shitty unit.

When we walk in the door, Bells is standing right there. Just staring at us unblinkingly. Really creepy.

"I heard you guys talking about killing mom." She tells us. She's absolutely still. Still with that vacant look on her face. "I think it's a good idea." She turns and walks to her bedroom, leaving me and my father staring after her. It's safe to assume she's still out of it, but I hope she doesn't remember any of this in the morning.

Thank-you!

And please leave your thoughts, I enjoy feedback just as much as the next guy.