Last Dance
By Lady of Spain
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters, storylines and contents are the work of Stephenie Meyer and her team. The plot is my own. No copyright infringement intended.
Warnings: Death of a major character, violence. If you're a Paul fan, don't read this, or you'll hate me, lol.
Paul leaned back on the gymnasium wall, with one knee bent, his foot flat against the wood paneling. "Man, you girls are so slow. Aren't you finished yet?"
Leah snarked, "Ya know, if you're in such a hurry, you could help us, LaHote."
He looked to Jacob and Jared, who were also nonessentials at this work in progress. "Hey, this wasn't our idea, was it, guys? Prom is for the women, so they can dress up like the Kardashians, make us shave, and wear suits and silk nooses around our necks."
"And socks," Jacob added, snickering.
"Don't you mean, a tux and a black bow tie," Kim remarked.
"Forget it," Paul shot back. "It's bad enough I have to wear a white shirt. I am not puttin' on a monkey suit for anybody."
The truth was, he loved to dance and really didn't mind dressing up in a suit—it was that blasted tie. It would choke him all night long.
Jared was sounding a little whiny. His stomach was growling, and he wanted to go home and eat. "How long are you girls gonna be? If you're planning to ride home with us, you better snap it up."
Kim put her hands on her hips. "It's going to be at least another two hours."
He sighed loudly, and rolled his eyes. "C'mon guys, we gotta help. I wanna get home some time this century."
Paul pulled away from the wall, and grabbed Jacob's arm. "Where the hell are your shadows, anyway? We could use a couple of more hands."
Jacob made a face. "Embry's grounded again, and Quil's stuck cleaning out his dad's garage. He'll be sorting through that junk 'til the start of the next millennium. His ol' man never throws a thing away. He probably has rusted parts to a model T stashed under Chief Seattle's war bonnet.
"It's a miracle that either of them will be allowed to show up at this shindig tomorrow night."
Slapping him on the back, Jared whooped with enthusiasm, then led his two reluctant buddies to their respective decorating advisors.
Paul stopped dead in his tracks at Leah's doorstep. A wolf whistle seemed appropriate, or a howl or two at the very least. She was dressed in a clingy white cloud that moved with her every swish. Her makeup was perfect—her eyes all smoky, and mysterious, her lips tinted a glossy pink. Black, shiny hair cascaded about her shoulders. He was tempted to plunge his hands into that sea of thick tresses. Leah was an earthbound angel tonight, and she was bringing out the devil in Paul.
"Holey sh**, girl, you're giving me a heart attack. I take back everything I said about prom yesterday. It was worth it to put on this suit and strangulation device. Damn ..."
A tongue click preceded her next comment. "Put your peepers back in your head, Paul. What's the matter? You've never seen a girl before?"
Bracing one arm on the doorframe, he let his lustful eyes rake over her. "Not looking like that."
A smirk formed on his lips as he put a hand in his jacket pocket, retrieving a motel key he picked up earlier in the day. He showed her the key in his palm, and said, "You wanna party with me afterwards? I'll make it worth your while."
"In your dreams. I told you we could go as friends. Besides, I have it on the best authority, that Emily's bringing her cousins, April, and Clint, down from the Makah Rez. That should float your boat; mine too."
Those dark eyes lit up. He and April had a thing for each other, but her older brother, Ken, couldn't stand him, and did everything in his power to keep them apart. Bad blood existed between them ever since Paul squealed to the cops about a robbery Ken was involved in. Looked like tonight, his luck would finally change.
"Hey this evening might actually shape up after all. I'll have two hot dollies hangin' on my arms."
"Ha! No you won't. I'll be hangin' with Clint."
Despite the help of the guys, the decorations were passable—not that any of the wolfboys cared about that. They were too dazzled by their dates.
Emily and Sam, the designated chaperones, arrived with April and Clint. Paul didn't waste a second, and burned a trail in the floor racing toward his goal. April looked up and saw him coming to her, and let out a joyful cry.
He noticed, and appreciated, that unlike the others, this girl had on a short dress in black chiffon, and her shapely legs transported her speedily toward her destination .He had her enveloped in his arms in a heartbeat.
"Paul," she gasped, breathlessly. "I didn't think you'd be here."
"Believe me, I'm glad I came." He buzzed her hair and squeezed her tight. "God, I missed you." And that was no lie. Sure, he'd been a ladies' man, and sowed some wild oats in the past, but if anyone could make him settle down, it would be April. Paul was in love with her, truly in love.
They swayed to the music, Paul whispering sweet nothings in her ear. He hardly noticed Leah, now dancing with Clint. She didn't seem to miss Paul's company, so nobody lost, this evening. But that was not to last, because in the next half hour, three cars pulled up, and out came about a dozen boys from the Makah Rez, literally about to crash the prom.
The newcomers looked like they were ready for some action, and not the kind that Paul was looking forward to. They fanned out, threading through the crowd, April's brother leading them on a mission to find the guy his sister was sweet on.
It didn't take long; in a flash, Ken was prying the two apart. "Get away from her LaHote. I won't have you anywhere near her again, ya hear?"
Grabbing his sibling by the hand, he started to the exit.
"Please, Kenny. We were only dancing," she pleaded.
Paul reached out, grasping the collar of her brother's jacket. "I don't think you heard her, Kenny. She doesn't want to leave; she wants be with me. And she's old enough to make her own decision. Now, let go of her!"
Ken gritted his teeth and snarled, "Make me."
Paul's arms shot forward, shoving Ken back. That tore it—he dropped April's hand, and lunged at Paul. Fists were flying, and Sam raced to the battling opponents to break it up. "Hey take it outside you two, and Ken, bring your gang with you. We don't want any more trouble here."
The girls backed away, horrified, murmuring among themselves.
The pack wouldn't allow Paul to be outnumbered, so they left their dates in the gymn and went into the yard. Jacob was the first to jump into the fray, followed by Quil, Embry, and Jared. Clint surprisingly joined in too—the last one to lend a fist.
The fight wasn't long lived. The Makah troublemakers were big, and even though they outnumbered the wolf boys, two to one, the Quileute pack members were bigger, stronger, faster and more agile.
Paul pounded the sh** out of Ken, and lifting him by the front of his shirt, hauled his ass to one of the waiting cars, and tossed him inside. "Don't you ever try to interfere with April and me again. If I want to see her, I'll see her. Now get the hell off our land."
The tribal police appeared as the invaders started to leave the yard. Sam had called them about the altercation. Better late than never.
The guys brushed off their clothes and returned to the dance, none the worse for wear, well almost none.
"Nothing like a rumble to spice up a school dance," Quil joked.
"Yeah, that'll teach those punks to mess with us, and ruin our prom, ha!" Embry added.
Jacob trailed behind the two, and Bella looked like she was about ready to faint at the sight of his purple face. But by the time the next couple of songs ended, it was back to normal. Too bad for Jacob, he enjoyed Bella fawning all over him.
Clint appeared to be the worst of the casualties. Leah sat him down, and held a wet paper towel to a cut on his cheek. "Stupid jerks," he complained. His dark brown eyes blazed in anger as he continued, "That gang can't stand to see anyone enjoy life. And my own brother—he's the leader of those mindless idiots."
Leah patted his hand. "That was brave of you to stand up to your own people like you did."
"I don't really know Paul all that well, but April loves him, and that's good enough for me. Ken had no right to come here and interfere. It was none of his business."
"It's okay; it's over now. Let's just forget about it, and go have some punch."
Clint rubbed his jaw. "I think I've already had one too many."
Pressing her palm to Paul's face, April asked, "Are you sure you're all right?"
"Yeah, what about you?"
"I'm a little shook up."
"You wanna go someplace else? I have a key to a motel room."
April smiled. "You thinking of getting lucky tonight?"
"Just hopin'. If you don't want to, I'll understand."
"No—I want to. I'm a little scared though, and I have to warn you." Her head bowed as she peered down at the floor. "I've never been with a guy before."
Paul held her hands to his lips. "That's what I figured. I don't want you to worry; I promise I won't hurt you. I'm in love with you, April.
"Let me tell the guys that we're leaving. There's a private party at Jared's afterwards, I'll bring you back here before it starts so Emily won't miss us.
When he returned to her side, he decided that he didn't want to come off as some horndog, all ready to rip her clothes off. So he interlaced his fingers with hers, and said, "You wanna have a last dance before we go?"
April nodded and placed her head on his chest as they danced to a slow, haunting melody. She was soft as a whisper, leaning into him, while he smoothly led her around the floor. He'd remember this dance for the rest of his life.
The song ended, and he kissed her sweetly. "Are you ready to go?"
She took a deep breath, and gazing deep into his eyes, murmured, "Yes."
Paul heard every heartbeat as it hammered away in her chest. He could tell she was understandably nervous, but it surprised him how nervous he was as well.
With his arm around her waist, Paul walked his girl through the opened door, then turned, quietly shutting it behind him.
"Here, let me take your coat," he offered.
She handed him the coat, and stood anxiously, licking her dry lips.
To ease her apprehension, Paul said, "Hey, if it makes you feel any better, I'm pretty nervous myself."
Her head bobbled slightly, in surprise. "Why?"
Guiding her to the edge of the bed, he sat her down. "Because, those other girls didn't mean anything to me. It was only a physical release ... just sex, you know. I don't know how to explain it ... but with you, I feel like there's a connection between us ... like our souls are somehow knit together. You feel it too, don't you?"
Her eyes glistened with understanding. "Yes, I know what you mean."
Paul helped her to stand, and asked, "You wanna use the bathroom first?"
"That's a good idea."
While she was occupied in the other room, Paul folded down the bedding. When she returned to the room, her eyes got big as she looked at the bed all ready for their use of it.
"C'mere, baby," he coaxed, with his arms wide to receive her. "Just relax, and let me do all the work, all right? Remember, I love you."
April was snug in his embrace as his kisses inched slowly in a straight line from her throat to above her ear. Her pulse was pounding now; the rate only slightly less than his own. He could hear it so clearly. His fingers then pulled at her waist, cinching her closer.
"I don't know what to do with my hands," she groaned.
"Here, I'll help you."
He placed her hands at the nape of his neck. "Go on, honey, I like it when you play with my hair."
Those big eyes, innocent, yet shiny with desire, and black as jet, turned him to flame.
Touching her lips light as a breeze at first, he continued pressing more firmly, until he felt her go lax, fairly melting in response. Without breaking the kiss, he yanked off his jacket, unknotted his tie, and fairly ripped off his shirt. Then, he reached behind her and unzipped the back of her dress, letting it drop to the carpeted floor. He kicked it unceremoniously aside, to add to the heap of clothing that was quickly piling up.
Paul walked her backwards to the mattress, and laying her down, slid onto it beside her. He swiftly unclasped her bra, removing it, and throwing it over the end of the bed. He stroked his fingers along her firm flesh, and planted baby kisses here and there as she whimpered, needing more from him.
As he started to unbuckle his belt, the door crashed open, and April shrieked. She crossed her arms over her chest to cover herself. Paul sprang up to confront the four men entering the room. Their faces were battered from the previous fight, but there was no mistaking Ken.
It was hopeless. There was no way he could take on three guys at once. They had him restrained in no time.
"Put your damn clothes on, April. You're coming home with me."
April grabbed the sheet, wrapping it around herself, and walked over to the clothes lying on the floor. Paul was standing next to the bed, held by the other three men. He would have the advantage if he could go wolf, but it was a secret he had to keep locked up inside. It was frustrating, struggling against these brutes.
Before closing the door to the bathroom, she implored her brother, "Promise me you won't hurt him, Kenny."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Now, go get dressed. And hurry it up."
April stepped out of the bathroom, fully dressed.
"Owen," Ken shouted, "take her out to the car."
"Kenny, don't hurt him—I love him. Please don't hurt him. Please ... please!"
The boy named Owen, dragged her from the room as she screamed and cried.
"Leave her alone!" Paul yelled, after them.
As soon as they left, the remaining three punched, and kicked Paul until his legs would no longer hold him up. He fell to his knees coughing up blood, and was unable to stand.
"Okay guys, that's enough, Ken commanded. "You two can get in the car with Owen. I'll be with you in a minute."
Ken waltzed up to Paul, still on his knees. "So, the big man isn't too big without his friends around, huh?"
He pulled out a hunting knife, and waved it in front of Paul's bruised and swollen eyes. "You think you're better than everyone else? Tougher than everyone else?"
Walking closer to Paul, he yelled, "Stand up like a man."
Paul tried unsuccessfully to pull himself upright, grunting in pain. Ken placed his hands under Paul's arms, hoisting him up against the wall. Then he took the knife, and stabbing Paul in the abdomen, said, "This is for getting your dirty hands on my sister." Then stabbing him in the neck, said, "And this is for the beating you gave to me and my boys."
An awful gurgling sound came from Paul's throat, as the red liquid pooled in his mouth. The pain was unbearable, but he was helpless—a vulnerable target. And so he waited for the next inevitable stroke of the blade.
The sadistic beast finished the job, by slicing a hole in Paul's chest, twisting the knife viciously into his heart as he drew the blade out. "And this is for bringing shame on the Makah nation. Now, go to hell, loverboy."
He let go of Paul, and watched as he slumped to the floor in an ever-widening pool of blood. Ken turned on his heel, and swept from the room, joining his cronies on the way back to their reservation.
This wasn't how Paul pictured his own demise. He thought at best, he would die an old man, lying beside his sweet April. At worst, he would die at the hands of a vampire, while he was protecting his people, but not like this. Some lowlife—a jealous maniac would end his life?
It was getting hard to breathe, and he could feel his heart stutter. What could he do? He couldn't reach a phone. He couldn't cry out for help. He could feel his strength ebbing away. Would anyone ever find him? He was resigned to the fact that he'd d have to sit here on the floor and wait until death took him.
Prom ended. Jacob was getting a little worried. Paul said he'd be back with April before the dance finished.
Emily came to him, with Clint by her side. "Where's April? I told my aunt, I'd have her back by 1:00 A.M."
"Jeez, Paul took her somewhere, and said he'd be back by now. Maybe he took her home?"
Clint pulled out his phone. "I'll call, and see if she's there."
"Hey, April, you are there. Where's Paul? No ... no one's seen him since you both left. Yeah, Jake's right here."
Handing over his cell, Clint said, "She wants to talk to you."
"Hi, April. What? Oh crap. You think he worked him over? Four of them? Yeah, I'll go right over there. Room 213, got it."
Jacob handed the phone back to Clint. "Emily, do you think you could take Bella home."
"I have to stay for awhile to clean up, and put away the leftover food, but I can have Sam take her."
"Can't I come with you," Bella whined.
Jacob held Bella's shoulder and kissed the side of her head. "I don't know what I'm gonna find, honey. I'd feel better if I knew you were home in bed."
. . . . .
The Pinetop Motel was only five minutes away, and Jacob had no problem finding number 213. His keen sense of smell picked up on the strong scent of blood. The door had obviously been forced open, and there, seated on the blood-slicked floor was a battered and broken Paul LaHote.
Jacob frantically raced across the room to his pack mate. "Paul, we gotta get you to the hospital."
"Hey, Jake you found me," he whispered in a labored voice. "My time's up, buddy."
"No, you're wrong," Jacob replied. "Your wolf healing will kick in. I know, I've been there."
"But you had a doctor with you. No, I'm sure—my time is up."
"I won't let you do this. I'm not gonna stand here and watch you die."
Jacob pulled out his cell, and called 911. "Get an ambulance here. Someone's hurt real bad. We're at the Pinetop Motel, room 213. Yeah, thanks."
Jacob got up in an attempt to get some towels from the bathroom.
"No—don't leave me. I don't wanna die alone."
Jacob was panicked. "I need to get some towels, to stop the bleeding."
"It's too late. You know it, and I know it. And it's okay."
Paul motioned for Jacob to get closer so he could hear better. "Hey, Jake, will you tell April, that this wasn't her fault, and that I love her? And let the pack know that I'm sorry—" His voice cracked, and he had to start over. "I'm so sorry for acting like such a hothead, flyin' off the handle all the time. And my mom and my brother, will you tell them all of that too?"
He reached for Jacob's hand, clutching it tightly. "Funny isn't it? I thought I would remember the last dance that April and I had together 'til the day I died." He shook his head slowly, his breathing erratic. "Only, I didn't think it would happen so quickly."
Paul's eyes began to glaze over. "And, Jake ... thanks for coming for me. I'm glad you're the one who found me."
There was a smile on Paul's lips as Jacob heard the thumping of his heart growing fainter. The rate slowed down until little by little the sound faded away. Paul's hand grew limp, but Jacob would continue to hold onto his friend 'til he felt that his spirit had left his body. He was still sitting there stoically with his pack member, when the ambulance finally arrived.
April heard the news the next day, along with all of La Push. The police had been combing the area looking for Ken.
In the years to come, she would always think about her love for Paul—the way he looked at her, the way he held her, and the way he danced with her that infamous night.
Why did this have to happen? Why? Was there some way she could have prevented it? But, how could she have ever known that the last dance she shared with him would be just that—the very last dance ... for Paul LaHote?
The End
A/N: FYI, if you're wondering why Paul didn't phase. He had to keep the secret, and afterwards, the room was too small and Paul was too weak.