So I am now continuing The Monster in Me. You may want to read the first part again. Edward is a hybrid vampire, who has fallen in love with a human Bella. Her blood is special to him, and her mind is a mystery. He is possessive, controlling, and trying to learn how to deal with a stubborn human, and the feelings he has developed for her.

~Edward~

I stood by the window, waiting. I sipped at the dark, bitter brew in my mug, my eyes focused on the house across the street where Bella was at the moment. Hiding from me.

Or, at least, she thought she was.

She still didn't realize how good my senses were. I could hear her movements. Track her as she shuffled around the house, her footsteps dragging with fatigue. Her dreams last night had been especially erratic, the images fractured and making no sense. She was stressed over something, but had not yet shared it with me. Even in her sleep, she had found a way to hide from me.

Yesterday, in what I assumed was a fit of rage, she destroyed her cellphone, smashing it to small pieces with a rock in her backyard. Then she slumped over, weeping, only stopping when I picked her off the damp ground and carried her inside. She had fallen asleep in my arms briefly, but her mind was too chaotic to understand. She woke, embarrassed and quiet. I didn't press her on the subject, but I was more than concerned. She was so used to handling everything on her own and not asking or accepting help. I had no idea how to get her to confide in me, and I knew her actions were part of the constant fear I detected in all her decisions the past while.

She insisted on sleeping at her house the last few nights, offering some flimsy excuse of wanting to be in her own bed, which we both knew was a lie. She slept so much better in my bed, with me holding her. I wanted her out of that house for good, away from the pain it caused her, and the memories it stirred within her mind. There was still so much of her life I didn't know, and she hadn't talked about. With the whole "I'm not a human" conversation, and the newness of our relationship still weighing on her, I was trying to be patient. Unfortunately, patience was not my virtue, and it was proving to be harder than I had planned.

My stubborn little kitten. She kept pushing me away, refusing what I could offer her, while struggling to remain independent and self-reliant. That would have to start changing soon. Today, in fact.

All my senses came alive as she exited her front door, making her way to her truck. She had her hair pulled back, her shoulders already curved inward with the day ahead of her. I drained my coffee as she slid into the driver's seat and turned the key.

I couldn't hide my smirk, when the only thing that happened was the choked sound of an engine unable to start as it echoed in the air. Just as I knew she would, she kept attempting to coax the engine to life without success. Her door flung open, and she struggled with the hood, leaning up on her tiptoes to peer underneath into the engine.

As if she knew what she was looking for.

I took my time strolling across the street, hiding my laughter at the muttered curses flying out of her sweet mouth. I leaned against the side of her truck. "Problem, kitten?"

Luckily, I was faster than she was and I was able to stop her head from smashing against the hood with my hand as she stood, startled by my appearance. As I took a moment to study her face, I cursed myself. I had been far too lax with allowing her stubborn nature to win over what I knew was best for her. She was exhausted and haggard-looking, her eyes dull and movements jerky, as she stepped back, shaking off my arm.

"My truck won't start."

"I hear that. Want me to take a look?"

"Do you know anything about engines?"

I chuckled dryly. "More than you, I think. Get in and crank it for me."

She looked surprised, but did as I asked. Dutifully, I ducked my head under the hood, pretending to check things out as she turned the key. "Again," I called out, moving my arm as if trying to fix it. I did it a few times, then pulled back, shutting the hood and shaking my head. "It's done, Bella."

She slid out, shutting the door. "I'll call a tow truck."

"No point."

"Why?"

"Your transmission is toast. It will cost more to replace than the truck is worth."

"But . . . I need my truck. How will I get around?"

"I can drive you where you need to go."

Her eyes widened, and I could taste her nervousness in the air around us. The static in her head was off the charts. She was definitely trying to hide something and doing a terrible job.

"I'll just walk into town. I have errands, and, um, things I have to do . . ."

I crossed my arms. "You aren't walking into town and back. If you don't want me to drive you, you can borrow my car."

"I can't drive your car. It's way too—"

I held in my laugh. I knew she was going to say "expensive," but she fell into my trap easily. I waved my hand. "You can take my other car."

"You have two cars?"

"Two cars, a full size SUV, and a motorcycle. Plus a smaller vehicle I think you will like."

"Oh."

"I am happy to let you drive any of them—well, perhaps not the motorcycle."

She didn't even crack a smile at my attempted joke. "I'm running a little late, so maybe I will take you up on the offer for today."

I inclined my head. "For today."

We crossed the street, and she was silent as I plucked a set of keys from the ring beside the garage door and opened it, indicating she should go ahead of me. I flicked on the lights and handed her the keys. "I'm sure you'll find the vehicle easy to drive."

"It's an Escape! An SUV!"

"A small one."

She circled the vehicle, studying it, then her gaze took in the other cars. "Edward, why is it red?"

"I liked the color."

"Your other cars are black or silver," she retorted suspiciously.

I bit back my smile. My kitten was too clever for her own good. I had bought it because of the color – the dark, rich red reminded me of her blood, and it would be easy for me to spot. There were a lot of gray cars in this dull town.

"I was in the mood for some color when I bought it. Simple."

"What year it is?"

"A 2015. Is it not to your taste, Bella?"

"I love it. I was just worried . . ."

"Nothing to worry about. You can borrow it until you figure out what you want. It sits there not being driven. Once I got it, I decided it wasn't right for me."

"How long have you had it?"

"A while."

"You could sell it."

I shrugged. "I don't need the money, and look how it came in handy." I clapped my hands. "Now, you have a ride, so you can do your errands." I opened the door, and she slid in. I helped her adjust the seat and made sure she knew where all the gauges were, then captured her mouth with mine, kissing her. "I will see you soon, kitten."

"I'll take good care of the car."

"I don't care about the car. Take good care of you. That is all that matters to me." I hit the garage door opener and stood back. "Be safe."

She nodded, carefully reversing and driving away.

I couldn't hide my smile after she left. Step one complete. She would love the car. I already knew that. I had shopped carefully. I purchased a vehicle older than I would normally buy, but I had to make sure she thought I already owned it because I knew she wouldn't accept a new car outright. I found the Escape at a used dealer in another city and had it shipped to me. There were enough miles on it, she would think I had driven it. It was still in perfect shape, had every safety feature it could offer, and she would enjoy driving it. Today, I would have her old truck disposed of, and gradually the Escape would replace it.

Now, if only I could get her to open up to me.

~o0o~

After Bella was gone, I paced, unable to settle. Finally, in desperation, I called my mother. She had been a human woman once. Surely, she could tell me how to handle Bella.

Her reaction to my query was not what I expected, though.

She laughed when I asked her, her response amused. "Is that what you think, Edward? That your father handles me?"

I hesitated. Their relationship was very much a give and take. Perhaps handle wasn't the best word to use with her.

"I don't know what to do, Mom," I confessed, knowing how much she liked hearing me call her by that name.

"You care about her very much."

"I'm in love with her."

Her fast intake of air made me smile. She hadn't been expecting those words.

"I told her about myself. I was honest. Yet, she is holding herself back. She refuses to let me care for her. She won't take my money, and she is insisting on working," I rambled. "She even wanted to work at a grocery store rather than for me!" I didn't tell her about the car; for some reason, I knew I needed to keep that to myself.

"Edward," my mother began, her voice patient, "she is human. And, obviously, used to having to fend for herself. Do you really expect her to simply give up control of her life and relinquish it to you?"

I was dumbfounded. "Yes. I am what is best for her. I know this. She knows it, too."

Her laughter was loud. "Son, you have a great deal to learn. You cannot order her around. It's not that easy. She isn't one of your employees."

"I know that."

"You need to show her how much you care. Show her some trust. Let her come to you. You may have to allow her to make her own mistakes and learn from them."

I pinched the bridge of my nose. "I don't know how to do that."

"Let her be."

I gaped into the phone. "You mean leave her alone? That I cannot do."

"No. That isn't what I am saying. If she wants to work, let her. Be it for you, or somewhere else, if that makes her happy. If she isn't ready to move in with you, respect her decision. Give her the time she needs—this is all new to her, as well. She has to learn to trust you. To know she can depend on you—unconditionally."

"She can."

"Then show her some patience."

I groaned, slamming my hand on the table. "Patience is not my strongest suit."

"I am aware of that, Edward. I am your mother."

I allowed out my greatest fear. "What if . . . what if she never does?"

"She will. You have to give her time. What is clear and simple to you is complex and worrying to her. Humans don't think the same way we do. And it sounds as though she has had a difficult time with life."

"I want to help her. It drives me crazy that I don't know where she is going."

"Have you thought perhaps she is doing something as simple as going to the gym, or meeting someone for coffee? She needs time for herself. Time alone. You cannot rule her 24/7, or be with her every moment. Humans are not built that way."

I thought about what she said. I couldn't imagine Bella going to a gym, and I didn't know if she knew anyone well enough for a coffee date, but perhaps my mother was right.

"Even I need some time away from your father on occasion. It's part of my human life left over. He understands that. You need to, as well. Let her come to you." Her voice softened. "You have a great capacity to love, Edward. You always have. This girl is bringing that to the surface. From what you have told me, and what your father has said, she is the very best part of you. She feels the same for you, but she has to process it in a different way."

I huffed, cursing under my breath. My mother was right. She always was.

"I'll try."

"Do we get to meet her?"

"Once I know she isn't going to run."

"I look forward to it."

I spoke the words she loved to hear. "I love you, Mom."

"And I you. Be patient, Edward. Remember the end goal. A life with your Isabella."

I hung up and mulled it over.

My Isabella.

She was worth waiting for.

~o0o~

I lasted three more days. For me, it was a lifetime of watching her come and go, not questioning her actions.

She accepted the demise of her truck well enough, after I showed her the large list of mechanical requirements it needed to make it road-worthy again. Her eyebrows had shot up at the huge dollar figure, and the static in her head exploded as she tried to figure out a way of paying for such an exorbitant bill. Finally, after explaining to her it would only be a band-aid solution, and it was time to let go, she agreed. I informed her she had free use of the SUV, since it as sitting unused anyway.

She insisted on filling it with gas, and I gave in graciously. She had no need to know I slipped twenties into various pockets of her purse and clothes. I had even popped a few into drawers at Charlie's. Just enough to make sure she had money and that she couldn't trace it back to me.

When she stayed with me, desolation filled her dreams. Acute pain tore through me as I held her close, fear and sorrow swamping my chest. It was agony knowing her feelings were real and not bad dreams. The only time she slept peacefully was after I woke her and made love to her. I spent lingering moments kissing and caressing her, filling her head with my scent, claiming her until she cried out my name in pleasure.

I avoided biting her, not wanting to drain her of any of the precious blood she needed for her own strength. But, when I lapped at her pretty pussy, she pleaded with me to take everything she had, and the temptation was too great. I nicked at her swollen lips, the blood welling up with the taste of her most inner self. My orgasm was massive, kicking up like a hurricane, tearing through my body with fierceness and burning desire. The blackness loomed, and I fought it, hovering over her, driving deep inside until she came around me, joining with me in the frenzy.

I collapsed beside her, drawing her into my embrace, and let the blankness overtake me. I woke to her arms around me, the tension in her body palpable. I shifted, holding her to my chest, murmuring quiet words to soothe and ease her.

The rest of the night, her dreams were fractured. Although, several times, my face appeared in them, angry and cold. I needed to figure out what was causing her to think I would be angry with her.

The next day, I solved the mystery.

Claiming fatigue, Bella stayed at her place, much to my displeasure. I waited until she fell asleep before slipping in and lowering myself beside her. She didn't know I was watching over her every night, and I wasn't sure I wanted her to know.

She slept heavily, her body exhausted. I had noticed earlier she had winced a couple times while moving, and I wondered if my mother was right.

Had she joined a local gym and kept the information to herself?

I dismissed the idea. There was no gym bag carried, or yoga outfits being washed, and I had never seen Bella wear any sort of athletic shoe.

There was something else.

I wrapped my hand around hers, concentrating. After a few moments, I became frustrated. Somehow she was even hiding from me in her dreams.

Nothing made sense. All I could decipher were feelings. There was overwhelming fear, and a deep sense of sorrow and being alone. The pain of goodbye kept flitting through her mind.

But who was she saying goodbye to?

Was she still reliving her past? Was she still living in fear of being alone? Did she not realize I would never leave her?

I couldn't take it anymore. With great care, I lifted her from her bed and took her home to mine. I slid her under the warm duvet, and settled beside her. She curled into me, fisting my shirt, then sinking into a deep, dreamless sleep. I held her the rest of the night, with only the occasional flicker of worry disturbing her rest.

In the morning, when she blinked awake, frowning in confusion, I offered only the truth.

"You were having nightmares. I couldn't stand to hear your pain, so I brought you to me. You slept well here."

I waited, hoping she would tell me. Instead, she offered her thanks, and after accepting the bagel and coffee I gave her, left for the day with no explanation.

After pacing and cursing for long while, I gave up and went into town.

I went into the bar, planning to head straight to the office and stay in order to distract myself. Bella was starting tomorrow and I wanted to make sure her papers were in order and to catch up on some management tasks. Riley was behind the bar, arguing with a supplier on the phone. He came to my door a few moments later, a frustrated look on his face.

"Problem?"

"The usual. The supplier sent me a case of pickled onions instead of olives again." He laughed, dragging a hand through his hair. "We don't go through many of those."

I smirked. This wasn't a pickled onion kind of town. However, we did have a large number of martini drinkers. Olives were a standard order.

"Are we out?"

"Almost. It was busy last evening—and tonight is ladies' night. We always do a ton of martinis, and they can't get me any until tomorrow."

I stood, deciding the diversion would be good. "I'll go get some at the grocery store. Six jars enough?"

"It should be. By the time we run out, they'll be too drunk to notice."

I had to chuckle at his observation. He was right. I walked down the street, nodding at people I was acquainted with, observing the area. Outside the store, I hesitated, the flash of dark red catching my eye. My SUV was parked in the back of the lot. Bella was at the grocery store. Not an unusual occurrence, except I knew she brought groceries home yesterday. Inside the store, I stopped, listening. Her heartbeat called out, letting me know she was there. I quickly grabbed the required olives and went in search of her. At the front of the store, I stopped in my tracks. She was at the Express Lane, but not as a customer. She was wearing a smock, with her hair tied up, scanning groceries.

Working.

It took everything in me not to storm over, throw her over my shoulder, and run out of the store. I stepped back in the aisle, locking down my muscles, tamping down my anger. Once I was somewhat calmed, I approached the line, setting down the jars, staring at her. She smiled kindly at the customer in front of me, then her gaze drifted, meeting mine. She froze, her hand stilling over the last scanned item, a bag of pasta, then she dropped her gaze and stuttered out the order total. Her hands shook, and she dropped the change twice, apologizing profusely before the customer left.

The belt moved forward, and I stepped into her line of vision.

"Isabella."

She knocked over all six jars of olives. Every time she tried to right them, another one would fall. I took pity on her, handing her a jar. "Perhaps you should scan one."

There was no one behind me. I leaned closer, sliding my fingers under her chin, forcing her to meet my gaze. "I believe we need to talk."

"I was going to tell you."

"At what point?"

"Today. Tonight."

I winced as she dumped the jars into a bag, the sound of the glass banging as her shaking hands betrayed her nervousness once again.

"Not giving me much time to replace someone for your shift."

For the first time, she met my gaze fully. "I will still be working at the bar, Edward."

I raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

"Yes."

"What time are you off today?"

She sighed. "Two."

Another customer had shown up behind me, and I didn't want to cause a scene. Drawing my hand back, I picked up my bag. "I will be in my office, and I'll be waiting." I glared, letting her see my anger. "Don't make me wait too long."

I left before she could respond.

Update next week. Thank you for reading. Thanks to MC for her beta work - I tweaked so the mistakes are mine, as always.