I DO NOT OWN TWILIGHT OR IT'S CHARACTERS

RATED M FOR LANGUAGE AND FUTURE LEMONS

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EPOV

Murderer.

Such a hollow word, yet it ricocheted in my brain with the weight of concrete. I haven't heard anyone call me that in years, but it was a title I launched at myself regularly.

I sat up in the bed and leaned against the wall. Grabbed the whiskey bottle from the nightstand and proceeded to find solace in the bottom. As if that was going to do the trick, but it did at least numb me for a while. All I could do was bathe in self-loathing. Might as well. What else were you supposed to do in a town that wanted to forget you existed?

Admiring the lonely rays of diffused sunlight coming through the window, I walked over and pulled up the blinds. The shimmering surface of the river below was flowing at a lazy pace, disappearing around the bend.

That's what I felt like doing. Disappearing.

I was fortunate that no one had seen me yet. I could easily get back on the Harley and get the hell out of here before anyone noticed me, find a quaint little town full of nobodies and wait until my next assignment. God, just as long as it was far from here.

Only problem is, I am stuck here for at least a week. I hate weddings. But, I promised my friend Jasper that I would be here for the rehearsal dinner. At least he had known better to ask me to be the best man. I grabbed the bottle of whiskey and turned it up...taking a long swig...I chuckled.

The irony. "Best man." As if.

This place brings back so many memories. I used to go down to Ryan's Bank on the far side of the river when I was a kid. Aunt Esme thought I was raising hell somewhere, which she had good reason to think so. I was angry all the time, pissed off at my mother for committing suicide. That image that will be burned in my head forever. I can still hear the arguments between me and Uncle Carlisle, who had made it clear that he didn't want me living in his house.

I glanced across the river to see a group of birds stabbing the ground violently with their beaks. They quickly flew away at the sound of some tourist on inner-tubes floating toward them.

Tanya enjoyed summers at the river.

I tried to shove the memory down, but it grabbed me like a phantom fist, and squeezed the air from my lungs. Closing my eyes, I could see her long, thick red hair blowing in the wind as we stole, or borrowed , as she used to say, some tubes from the back alley at Georges's Auto shop. Tanya was up for it, of course she was up for anything that made her feel like a rebel. She was always on my side no matter what the people of this town thought of me. Probably the reason I never really put much effort in talking her out of running away with me.

I am such a coward. Part of healing is to face your demons. Make peace with the evils that haunt you. Heal the wounds. But was coming here the way to do it? I could spend an eternity trying to answer that question. Purposefully dodging the answer.

I am such a coward. If I wasn't I would hang up this phone right now and just change clothes, and go down to the reception hall for the rehearsal.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Assper.."

"Dickward, you bastard. You're late. Where the hell are you?" Only Jasper could get away with calling me that. I swallowed hard, about to piss him off.

"I'm not coming Jasper."

"What the hell? Which one are you not coming to, dinner or the wedding?"

"Dinner." I said with a twinge of guilt.

"So when did you get in? Or are you just bullshitting me?"

"Well. I'm not exactly in town yet. I'll be there soon." I didn't want him to know that I was only about fifteen miles away, since I was supposed to be staying with Esme. He'd kill me if he knew I was staying in a motel.

"Well, you better have a damn good reason why you aren't coming?"

I didn't have a good reason, at least not by his standards, nor did I really want to tell him why. If I had never had Jasper as a friend growing up in Forks, my existence here would have been even more unbearable. He was loyal. Drove to Seattle every few months or so to visit. We hadn't seen each other since I had left for Africa three years ago.

I guess he was more like a brother than a friend.

"I got a bad headache, man. Traveling and shit. I'd be miserable company." Guilt is a hungry bitch, eating away at my insides. My head hurt, but not so bad that I couldn't go out. "I should be fine tomorrow."

"Positive? Your ass better be at my wedding. "

"Yeah man. I'll be there. Later."

"Later."

I hung up the phone and left before I could change my mind. I walked out to the parking lot and hopped on the bike. A nice ride would settle my mind.

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A/N: Sorry so short..following chaps will be longer.