"Family Comes First"
Angry. Pissed, is exactly how I felt right now.
I never threw "tantrums" as most people would call my behavior right now.
That's not what this was about, though. This was about Esme's safety and happiness.
I knew an asshole when I saw one, and this man she seemed to be so smitten with, definitely had red flags. I couldn't pinpoint what it was about him that gave me the vibe that he wasn't good for her.
In fact, no one would ever be good enough for Esme. She had already been through so much. She was fragile—like glass. If anyone were to put her through anything else, she might just shatter.
I couldn't risk it by letting this man come in and take the rest of her life like the last asshole took part of it.
John wasn't good. And, anyone associated with him couldn't be good either, including Isabella.
My fists clenched, feeling my dick already spring to life at the thought of her.
I've had my share of one-night stands with girls before, but Isabella, she's...
Beautiful.
I couldn't help but feel entranced by her appearance; the aura she gave off.
There was nothing outrageously different about her than the average person.
She had the deepest brown eyes ever, with red, full luscious lips. Her skin was so beautiful, almost porcelain like a doll. Her heart shaped face even caught my attention with her beautiful, long, wavy hair that framed it.
My fingers could almost feel the soft locks in them again as a mental image printed itself in my head.
Her body was average, but there was something about it that intrigued me. Her breast weren't big, but they were somehow enough to satisfy my hunger. Her backside may not have been big, but it was enough for me to grab last night.
Seeing her sit at the bar counter drinking like that, I immediately knew that there was something different about her.
It wasn't every day that I saw a woman sitting at a bar by herself, downing a drink like she wanted to be taken away from the world. Not here in forks, at least.
So, instantly, I was intrigued and interested.
Honestly speaking, I was way over my head last night, having been high before I even decided to drop by the bar.
I was just supposed to stop by, chill with my friends for a bit, and then leave. But, once I spotted her...all plans changed.
I had to have her. Even though I wasn't fully aware of what was going on, my body knew that I had to have her, even if it would be just for one night.
I just didn't expect things to end like this. I didn't think our stories connected the way they do. And I sure as hell couldn't do anything about it now. I just had to stop this whole ordeal before it was too late.
"Edward, you need to get the rest of your things ready," I heard Esme yell from downstairs.
My fists clenched again, wanting to punch a wall, or anything to get rid of this pent-up frustration.
I wasn't a spoiled child who thought he could always get his way, but this was different. This was for Esme; not me. I may have created this big mess with Isabella by sleeping with her, but this had nothing to do with me.
I wanted Esme happy, and I could guarantee that it wouldn't be with this man.
I needed to put a stop to things before it was too late.
"Edward Masen Cullen!" I heard Esme calling again, making my blood boil.
Why couldn't she just stop pestering me about this and leave me to my murderous thoughts?
My door swung open, revealing her stand at the entrance with her hands on her hips and a scowl on her face.
"You're trying to ruin this for me, aren't you? You're not a child anymore, so you need to stop acting like one! You're not five-years-old anymore, so that's enough of the chasing away every man that comes in my life. Don't you want me happy?"
Hearing the tears in her voice instantly forced my own emotions to the side.
I walked up to her, resting my hands on her shoulders gently. "I'm sorry, okay? I just...this really isn't a good idea, Mom," I said softly.
She looked up, tears brimming her eyes. "Why? Tell me one good reason why and I may consider calling this off," she said, sounding serious about it.
Opening my mouth to respond, I realized no coherent words or thoughts formed. I couldn't come up with a good explanation for the reason I felt this way about the man before Isabella came to mind.
"Bella," I said.
"What about her? She's attractive, I know that, but you have enough self-control to not ruin this for me. You can respect her until the end of this school year." She looked at me pleadingly, almost begging me to do this for her with her eyes.
My behavior right now was for her, though.
"No, it's not that. I just don't get good vibes from the two. He seems abusive just like all the other assholes you've attracted, and she seems oddly submissive to his every word," I said.
This wasn't a lie. It was obvious that something wasn't right between the two. I just couldn't place my finger on what it was yet. Abuse or some type of inappropriate relationship was the only thing I could think of.
Quite frankly, I didn't want to know either. It was weird as hell.
The next thing I felt was a sting on my cheek from a feminine hand. "He's her uncle, Edward! How dare you insinuate something so disgusting about the man I love?!"
When I looked at her, the tears were no longer present in her eyes, replaced by anger. "Get the rest of your things, right now! As soon as we get the rest of our things moved in, you're grounded and permitted from leaving the house unless it's for school," she said angrily.
Just fucking great.
I guess acting like a child results in getting treated like one.
My ears registered a soft knock on the door of this new shitty house I had been staying in for the last two days.
I took Esme's words literal by keeping myself locked in the room because I was fucking "grounded."
Every night around this time, Isabella would come knocking on the door, telling me to come down because dinner was ready.
I didn't want to have anything to do with these people, so I kept myself locked in the room, trying to figure out what it was about the two that set me off with them.
Why did she act so scared around him? Why did she suddenly change characters when he would speak or even look at her?
Something wasn't right.
After hearing the knock on the door one more time, I turned the music up on my iPod, blasting the beautiful symphony so I couldn't hear her anymore.
She was just a walking temptation in my life anyway.
I lied back on the bed, staring at the ceiling in the darkening room. It was after seven, so the sun was starting to slowly go down.
Five minutes passed, no distant knocking, or anything came, which nearly surprised me.
She would knock for at least three minutes, try and talk me into going to dinner before she would disappear. After that didn't work, she would come back two minutes later, for whatever reason, and try again.
She wasn't back yet, making me wonder if something happened this time.
I sat up from the bed, pulling the earplugs out of my ear.
To go, or rejoice in her absence of annoyance...
Sighing, I lied back on the bed again, reasoning it might be better to stick to myself.
I didn't have any reasons to worry about her, or any of them, aside from Esme. Isabella was a good fuck, from what I could remember, and I wanted to leave it at that.
Why was my mind and body trying to butt heads by forcing me to worry about her?
Besides, she was probably just like her uncle because he is the one who took her in and raised her.
I began to close my eyes, but before they could fully close, they flew back open, hearing sniffling behind my door.
Without thinking or reasoning, I was up on my feet in no time, rushing to the door. I yanked it open, only to see Isabella standing at the door with her hands raised, balled into a fist as if she were about to knock on it.
Immediately, I looked into her deep, brown eyes, searching for the tears that I had been sure was there. But, there were no tears. Just a surprised look in them.
I let out an annoyed sigh, getting ready to close the door in her face.
The door suddenly bounced back, refusing to close.
I looked down, seeing that her small foot had stopped it from fully closing.
I glared at her dangerously. "Move," I said tightly.
Anger flashed in her eyes as if I had done something wrong. "No," she hissed, surprising the hell out of me.
"What?" I asked, raising a brow at her sudden change of behavior.
"You're going to get your ass out of this room and come downstairs and eat," she said sternly.
I watched her brows furrow, making her look oddly out of character. This didn't seem to be a norm behavior for her, so I wasn't sure what to expect next.
"No," I said shortly.
She groaned, grabbing a fistful of hair, tugging on it in frustration.
What the hell was the big deal about me not going to dinner? Was it some rule in the house, stating that everyone in the house must attend dinner? The fuck?
She pushed me in the room, surprising me, yet again. She slammed the door shut behind her, turning to me with an angry glare on her face.
I couldn't help but feel turned on by her feisty character right now. And she had us closed off in my room.
She pointed an accusing finger at me. "I am sick and tired of you acting like a child who can't get their way. Grow the fuck up and get over it. They're getting married and there's nothing you can do about it. I'm the one who has to take the blame for your ridiculous behavior, and I'm tired of it. I won't accept it any longer. We have school tomorrow and I'm supposed to follow you around and help, so the least you could do is get your ass downstairs and eat like you're being told to," she said, her pale face turning an angry red.
This was a side of her that I didn't even know existed. For the past two days, she would just try to talk me into going to dinner, but now she was...
When I saw her eyes starting to water, my heart clenched in my chest, the guilt eating at me for being so stubborn.
I lifted my hand, caressing her face gently. Before the tear could fall, my thumbs swiped them away.
Why did I suddenly feel guilty when I had my mind set on using her to get me and Esme out of this mess?
"Okay," I said softly.
Blaming it on the tears. I couldn't stand when a woman cried.
She looked up at me, eyes wide, red lips slightly parted. "W-what?" she asked incredulously.
"Let's go to dinner," I said, pushing her back against the door slowly.
Her breath caught in her throat, clearly stunned by my sudden change in attitude towards her.
It was just for now, since she had to pull this card with me. I would be sure to keep the upper-hand next time.
But, I knew one thing for sure. This reaction from her is just the result of something else.
What could it have possibly been, though?
She nudged me forward with shaky hands, making me move back a little. "D-don't touch me," she said quietly.
Immediately, I dropped my hands from her body, moving back at that statement.
If there was one thing I had ever been sure about, it would be to listen to a girl when she says that.
However, for some reason, Isabella's "Don't touch me," sounded like it had so much more meaning to it.
What the hell is wrong with this girl?
As if she thought I wouldn't listen to her, she released a relieved sigh, making me frown.
She swallowed, twisting the knob of the door. "Lets...go to dinner," she said, sounding like the vulnerable girl she normally sounded like around this house.
And what the hell was that all about too?
This family was too complicated for me.
Esme giggled at something the asshole whispered in her ear.
Didn't he know that whispering at the table was considered rude?
My eyes landed on Isabella, seeing her twirl her fork around in the spaghetti. She looked deep and lost in thought, something clearly bothering her.
But what?
"I'm glad you decided to come down tonight," John said after taking his dirty hands and mouth off Esme.
I wanted to strangle the man to death for touching her. I needed to find dirt on this family as soon as possible.
But how? Where could I even begin to look?
An idea popped into my head.
Her bag.
She had left the small flimsy material at my house the day she tried to avoid the awkward morning after. Maybe she had something in there.
"Edward, John is talking to you," Esme said, giving me a pointed look.
I sighed silently, deciding to drop the cold demeanor for now. Only because it would be best to lay low, if I already had something to my advantage. If it would help, at least.
"Yeah. Isabella talked some sense into me," I said in a bland tone.
"Oh, my Bella? She can be quite persuasive sometimes. I know it'll take some getting used to, but you will," John said.
I wanted to flick him off and tell him to fuck him, and this stupid idea of us being a family.
I already had Alice and that other knuckle-head to put up with, so why do they think I want to add on another baggage like Isabella?
I didn't judge books by its cover, but she didn't really give me much of a choice.
In appearance, she was definitely my type, no questions asked, hands down.
I never had sex a second time with my one-night stands, but she sure as hell would be the first if she offered it to me.
But it was the way she acted around this house. She seemed so weak, so submissive to her uncle, that it instantly caused a judgement to rise in me about her.
She seemed like the type to listen to everything her parent says.
If they said don't talk to strangers, she wouldn't talk to strangers. Or, don't make friends with these people, she wouldn't.
I liked my girls to live on the edge; take risks like there isn't a tomorrow.
Isabella was not that person, so I knew I could never like her to the point of wanting to be with her.
Sex was the only thing she could get from me.
"Edward!"
"Yes, I'm sure I will," I responded before Esme could run her mouth about me needing to respect my elders or whatever.
John chuckled, placing a hand on Esme's thigh under the table, from what I could see.
I wanted to hurl all my insides up.
"He's fine. He can take as long as he needs to warm up to us," he said.
Oh, it won't be long, alright.
We finished the rest of dinner, listening to Esme and John talk about wedding shit.
As soon as I finished, I headed straight upstairs to my room. I took a quick shower, wanting to get out as soon as possible to get that bag.
Why did I feel anxious and excited about it?
Because my hand remembered feeling something square in it, maybe.
If it was what I think it is, I was ahead of the game and had a chance at destroying this whole "get together as a family" thing.
I would get me and Esme the hell out of here before any damage could be done.
I slammed my door shut after finishing shower, locking it behind me, just to be safe. I walked to my bed, stooping down to it, and lifting it up slightly.
And there the thin, dirty brown bag was abandoned.
I grabbed the bag, dropping the bed back down, and propping myself on it. Almost quickly, my hand dug into the bag, feeling around it until it touched something hard and square.
A smirk played itself on my lips, as I grabbed the book-like notebook out.
It was, in fact, a book too.
My brows scrunched together, wondering what the hell this old, ancient-looking shit really is.
It was brown with gold letters on the front. It was in Greek, so I couldn't be too sure about what the hell it is.
Carefully, because afraid to tear the book, I opened the book to a random page.
My eyes scanned through the page, seeing writings of God-knows what incursive until I spotted a familiar statement I heard over an hour ago.
'Don't touch me,' I say, hoping he...
My brows scrunched together, even more curious about this book.
Well, from what I just read, I realized it looked more like a journal, than an actual book. The way this style of writing is, it looked handwritten by someone from the modern day.
I flipped through the pages, going back to the first one.
In big, capital, incursive words, it read, 'Bottle of Trauma.'
What the fuck?
I flipped to the next page, intrigued by the title alone, until I heard glass shattering from downstairs.
Instantly, I closed the book, hiding it behind me. I dropped her bag on the floor, kicking it under the bed and throwing the journal under my pillow.
I stood up from the bed, heading straight for the door to unlock it. I walked down the stairs slowly, treading lightly because I didn't know what the hell the noise was. I headed to the kitchen, knowing that would be the logical place to find the source of glass breaking.
I stopped at the entrance, seeing the most erotic image in front of me.
Isabella on the floor, on her hands and knees, looking down.
My brows scrunched together in confusion, wondering what the hell she was doing.
Her eyes were squinted as if she couldn't see.
Wait, didn't she have glasses on when we first met?
Fuck, I couldn't remember. Why did I have so much to drink? Why had I smoked so much before going to that bar?
Leaning against the door frame, folding my arms, I cleared my throat, grabbing her attention.
Her head flew up, looking at me with her brown, innocent eyes.
She was quick to glare at me, frantically sitting up from the position.
As soon as my peripherals saw red, my eyes moved down to her hands, seeing pieces of glass in her hands and blood.
Almost immediately, I was at her side, pulling her up from the floor away from the glass.
For some reason, I had this sudden urge to keep her safe and protected, adding on to my suspicions of her. Was she involved in some type of ritual crap that put spells on people?
I glared at her, holding her arm tightly. "What the hell were you thinking, being on a floor full of glass? Are you an idiot?" I hissed, feeling angry at myself, more than her, for feeling this way about her.
I didn't even know her enough to want to protect her, so why did I?
She pulled her arm back from me as if I burned her, wrapping them around herself. It was almost in a manner of comfort. "I..." She trailed off, letting her eyes fall to the ground.
The blood stained her bare, pale arms.
My eyes lingered on her skin longer than they needed to be, having the sudden urge to lick it.
She had on a high-light green tank, making her skin appear even brighter.
My eyes fell down to her shorts, seeing them stop at mid-thigh, giving me a view of her long, sexy legs.
I could feel my dick grow unbearably hard in my jeans. I was lucky they held me down.
I glared at her again, hating this reaction she got out of me. "What? Don't you have any common sense—"
"Stop it! I get it enough from everyone else who come in my life, but no more! Not you too," she hissed, eyes watering.
Stunned by her reaction, I moved back, shocked by the new revelation she revealed to me.
So, it was true, then. She was pushed around by her uncle. And apparently everyone else around her too.
Her breathing was uneven as her chest heaved up and down rapidly.
She was angry.
Instead of retaliating, I grabbed her wrist from around her gently, pulling her over to the sink, avoiding the glass on the floor. She didn't have any shoes on.
She tried to pull her arm back from me, but I held her tightly. "Let me go, or I'll scream," she hissed quietly.
I turned the handles of the sink, running cold and hot water to make the perfect temperature. "And, they'll know all about our little adventure," I said blandly, making her body freeze.
She stopped struggling, letting me pull one of her hands under the water.
I felt bad for using this against her, but this seemed to be the only time she obliged to my demands. It wasn't right, but I needed to clean her cuts to get rid of the blood and this awful feeling of seeing her bleeding.
Just like I need her to help me stop this marriage before it was too late. I had a year and a half to save Esme's life before I would go off to college and live my own life.
Isabella was my only source of help right now, so I would have to continue blackmailing her into helping me, even if it made me feel bad.
Esme came first, and that was final. No questions asked. She had been through enough.
I grabbed her other hand, pulling it under the running water to get rid of the blood. Pushing my hands under the water to wet them, I brought them back up her arms, scrubbing to get the blood off of them from her hands messing them up earlier.
I closed my eyes, feeling my dick twitch at feeling her soft skin under the palms of my hands.
Gosh...why did my body have to react this way to her?
"Is there a first-aid kit here?" I asked, keeping my eyes from her direction.
When she didn't respond, I looked at her face, seeing a blank expression on it, as if to say she didn't care.
"Isabella," I demanded in a dark tone, irritated with her stubbornness.
She was almost as stubborn as Esme is.
Her eyes landed to one of the cabinets close by, telling me where it was.
"Keep your hands under the water while I get it," I said, already hopping over the mess to the cabinet.
I opened it, reached in, and grabbed the small kit before moving back over to her. I took out the alcohol wipes, Neosporin, cotton balls, and a wrap.
I turned the water off and dried her hands off gently before applying the rest of the things to fix her hands.
After I finished wrapping her hand, I leaned down, scooping her in my arms bridal style.
Immediately, she panicked, squirming in my arms. "Put me down," she whispered, not wanting to bring any attention to the kitchen.
I held her tighter, looking directly in her eyes. "I'm not letting you down until we're out of this kitchen," I said, already carrying her out of the kitchen.
I didn't want her to step on any glass and hurt herself any further. If she was hurt, I'd be affected, and I didn't want any of that.
Once we were at the entrance of the kitchen door, I set her back on her feet.
She was quick to pull away from me, to my dismay. Her eyes landed on the floor, glaring.
"You're wel—"
"I didn't ask you to do a thing for me, so I owe you nothing," she hissed.
I raised a brow, grabbing her chin to make her look me directly in the eyes. I couldn't help but love her eyes and wanted them on me at all times.
"I never said you owed me anything. Common courtesy would have been nice, though."
She pulled her face from my grip. She took a deep breath as if to calm herself down.
Maybe she felt this...whatever the hell it was, between us, too?
"Thank you, but I don't need—"
"Tomorrow. At school, we're going to sit down and discuss what's to be done to stop this," I said.
She looked up at me, eyes wide. "W-what? You're still going on about this?" she asked in a weak voice.
I turned to her, resting my hands on her shoulders so she could look me directly in the eyes. "I'm sorry to drag you into this, but it's just me and you in this. Together. So, you're going to help me," I said in a finalizing tone. "Do you want this?"
I could see her pale, delicate throat bob as if she were swallowing the words she wanted to say.
God, I wanted to lean down and taint that skin with my lips and tongue.
"Answer me," I demanded, hearing the arousal in my own voice.
Did she hear it, too?
"N-no, but we only have ten months before we graduate and get the hell out of here. It won't be our problem anymore and—"
"Why don't you want them to get married?" I asked, getting on to something by her answer.
I didn't think she would actually say that. Something had to be off for sure now.
Her eyes fell from mine, as if she had not said anything. "I-I..."
Wanting her eyes on me only, I gently hooked my thumb under her chin, making her look up at me. "Keep your eyes on me," I said.
As if she had no control over her body, her eyes stayed locked with mine.
"Now, answer the question," I said, backing her up against the door of the kitchen unconsciously. I wanted to feel her body against mine again.
"I-I just don't want them to. He's my old man and I..." She stopped, shaking her head. "No, let me go. I told you not to touch me."
Even though she said this, she made no move to push me or struggle against me. I still moved away from her, not wanting to force anything on her.
I was already hard out of my mind, so getting even the slightest bit of contact from her would drive me insane and push me over the edge.
"Tomorrow, we'll talk more."
With that being said, I headed upstairs, closing and locking the door behind me.
I almost rushed to the bathroom connected to my room door, unzipping my pants and pulling them down slightly.
I looked around the bathroom for something—anything, really— to lubricate my dick.
Fuck, I needed to be in my own home where everything is right there for me.
I opened one of the cabinets, spotting Vaseline instantly. I grabbed it without any hesitation, not caring who's it could be and took a large amount of it, rubbing it all over my erection.
I grasped myself in hand, closing my eyes tightly to make my imagination easier for me to picture Isabella naked in my room, riding my cock.
Images of her breast bouncing up and down as she rode me and her loud moans of my name, clouded my mind as I relentlessly stroked myself into ecstasy.
More erotic images of us together and more vigorous strokes had me releasing all over my hand minutes later.
I took deep, steady breaths to get my loud panting under control before I cleaned myself with tissue and put my junk back in my pants.
Once I calmed down, I headed back to my room to change into night clothes, and then slid under the, still foreign, comforters of the bed.
There was only one thought that ran through my head as soon as my head hit the pillow.
How the hell did she think that we could stay in this house together for the next year and a half without me wanting to jump her bones?
A/N: Ahh, I didn't realize that it has been this long since I last updated! For the record, I have been extremely busy, considering the fact that I have a job and have been trying to get myself situated for my last year in university.
On another side note, what did you guys think of this chapter? A little insight from Edward, though everything isn't quite explained on his part. It will be soon enough, though.
Don't forget to drop a review!
