"HEY YOU!" I hear a voice shout from across the bar. "Yeah…..YOU", he bellows again. The music in the bar is loud, but I (and pretty much everyone else in the place) can hear him. There is no mistaking that he is drunk and that he is yelling for me. I put on my best artificial smile and head over to his table. There are four guys crammed into the small, dark booth. The cigarette smoke is so thick, I can barely make out their faces, not that I am trying to really get a good look at any of them anyways.

"Need something gentlemen?" I ask as sweetly as I can muster. Working in this place, it is crucial to maintain a bubbly personality. This despite the fact that I do not possess a single "bubbly" personality trait in my entire body. I have, however, pretty much mastered the art of the fake smile.

As I approach the table, I have a gut feeling that this might not end well. The drunk guy who was doing the shouting is leaning on the outer edge of the booth. He is close to my age, I assume, probably a college guy. He grins a drunken smirk, leans towards me and says, "I need this right here!", as he reaches down and grabs a handful of my ass. I gasp and jump away from him as if he burned me. Completely caught off guard, I yelp and scream, "WHAT THE HELL?", as I rapidly try to move away from him. One of his buddies at the table begins laughing. The other two guys at his table both look perplexed. My throat begins to tighten and it's gradually becoming harder to breathe. Tears begin to burn in my eyes and I desperately try to hold them back. I hastily say a silent prayer and, just like that, it is answered. Suddenly, I hear a roar behind me. And the roar is stomping up closer and closer. College boy with the big mouth and roving hands is no longer smiling and his friend is no longer laughing. The color has now drained out of both of their faces, much to my relief. I recognize the growling and the stomping. I have heard these noises before. I know that I am protected.

"GET UP AND GET OUT!" Emmett snarls. "RIGHT FUCKING NOW!"

I turn to see my cousin, my VERY large, VERY angry cousin, glaring down at the college boys. Emmett's face is bright red and his jaw is clinched. He has a Louisville slugger propped over one shoulder. Not that he'll need the bat. Emmett is one of those guys that are just….well, HUGE. Broad shoulders, thick neck, arms as big around as my waist. To say that he's intimidating is an understatement. He gently pushes me behind him. I instantly feel safe.

"We…umm….we're outta beer…", drunk college boy stammers. "We just needed a….umm….refill…."

Emmett glares down at him. He is not in the mood for this guy's games. "You ain't gonna find any refills on beer by grabbing her ass! I don't have time for your bullshit. Get out of here. NOW!" Emmett booms, patting the bat in the palm of his hand making sure to get his point across.

The four guys gather their jackets and rush to leave. I stand behind Emmett and watch as they drop dollar bills on the table. The two quieter guys begin to cuss at their drunk friends.

Emmett turns towards me as the foursome exit. "You okay?" He asks, concerned. I shrug my shoulders and lean into his side. "I am fine. You'd think I'd be used to drunken fools, but…" I trail off. I'm embarrassed and Emmett knows this better than anyone else. He puts his arm over my shoulder, making me feel both secure and small all at once. "Quil….keep an eye on things for a minute, would you?" Emmett asks the bartender. Quil nods his head in his direction. Emmett walks me over to his office and gently closes the door.

"Bella…", he starts, "Your job is to wait tables, not be pawed by inebriated morons. This is my establishment. I make the rules and certain things are completely unacceptable."

I sense my face heating up because I had to have him swoop in and defend me. I hate that one little incident has almost set off a panic attack in me. I flop down in the chair nearest to me. Even just sitting here with Emmett, safe and sound, I feel like I am suffocating. He sits down, leans back and props his feet up on his desk. He is frustrated and I feel guilty. The guilt must be written across my face because his expression softens.

"Hun, you did nothing wrong", he says quietly. "It's not your fault and you can't beat yourself up over this."

I know that he is right. "I know, I know", I mumble. "It's just that I feel so defenseless already and when someone acts like an asshole like that guy did tonight, it is almost paralyzing." Once again, hot tears are blurring my vision, though this time I don't try to hold them back.

He shakes his head as he sees the tears falling down my face. Emmett growls and his anger flares back up. "You just let me find Jacob Black….I'm gonna beat his ass for what he did to you."

I shudder at the mention of that name. Jacob Black.