Sweet Retribution

From the ashes, the phoenix rose.

Bella Swan wasn't one to stay down for long. Even when the odds were against her, she would stand up tall, and see it through. This time wasn't any different. She was a woman on a mission and she would strike when they least expect it.

Edward was shocked by how quickly he fell into old tricks. Not so shocked, it was like Jekyll and Hyde with him. Once the angel was gone, the devil came out to play.

He had driven back home thinking about Chelsea. Last night was great, even if he was frustrated. She had gotten off, and that was all that mattered to him. Even when she had wanted to return the favor, he wouldn't let her, because it was her night. It didn't matter- he would take care of himself, then mope around for the rest of the day.

Then, as promised, he would go out and have some fun. A beer with Jasper, big whoop. It was a simple plan, really.

What he hadn't expected was Bella in his apartment when he arrived back. He knew he should've asked for his key back when she broke up with him.

Naturally, she was there to fight. Always there to fight, the fight always got him excited. She had ranted about something that he couldn't quite catch, but the second she mentioned Chelsea, he was pissed off. She knew just how to mention Chelsea, just enough to get under his skin. It was too early in the morning for this shit, and she was really pushing him.

Words were exchanged, hurtful words – Motherfucker. Cunt. Fucking loser. Frigid bitch. – held back from months of trying to be too friendly and a night of one person walking out for good.

Bella called him a slut, he always knew she was the man in their relationship, so he called her a whore. Hell, he had to compensate for the removal of his balls somehow.

She literally pushed him and he pushed back. Not hard enough to hurt her, just enough to piss her off, it was all kindergarten stuff, really. She shoved him again and he nearly dragged her to the door by her elbow. He knew she didn't mind him grabbing her because he was such a pussy that would never physically hurt her. He managed to get his hand on the knob, and she was being dragged and her heels dug into the floor as her nails attempted to cut flesh, and they were struggling.

Then, to no one's surprise, he fucked her hard. She started it.

Her teeth ran over his bottom lip as he ripped her stockings, letting her undo his jeans. She was climbing up his body before he even had her pinned against the door. He was grinding against her and she was thrusting back and he barely got her to the bedroom before she was writhing and moaning. Their story wasn't over, it was never over.

He wasn't thinking about what he was doing; his dick was doing all the talking, he was sure. This was months of frustration and anger and a lot of hurt and want, and they were both taking it out on each other in the best and the worst way possible. Her mouth alone still brought out things in him.

She remembered where the condoms were. Of course she would, she helped go through a whole box once upon a time, and soon, he was inside her, sliding in and out and there was friction and her back was arching. Oh, God, he missed that ache. Her kisses were hard and wet and rough and he met each one, hurting her just as much as she was hurting him.

When he came, hard and sharp as she broke skin down his back, he wanted to die.

Back to square one.

Once an asshole, always an asshole.

Chelsea smiled at the sound of Edward's sleepy voice. Waking him up before eleven was always wrong. "How are you this morning, Handsome?"

Edward grinned faintly, the lie already forming on his lips. "Doing just fine, Daiquiri."

"Doing anyone fun?" she teased with a laugh.

"No," he lied softly.

He didn't want to think of it. He and Bella had fucked all morning the day of Chelsea's departure, and apparently, Peter's as well. It had continued throughout the week and into the weekend, and he finally had a moment to himself to relax. He had managed to get out months of pent-up aggression, both sexual and emotional, and by the end of it, he was spent.

She had slept curled at his side that first night, her cool hand on his torso, her hair brushing over his chest. When he had woken up, he was confused for a moment before the "oh, fuck" shock hit. He had run to shower, still shocked, but the surprise wore off when she joined him in the shower, dropping to her knees and her mouth sliding over his cock.

Ever since then, it was just like old times. He couldn't believe he was back there, that he had fallen so quickly.

Currently, Bella was doing some errands. She promised to be back later, and he felt like shit for saying okay. Just like old times, like they had never broken up. The whole thing was fucked.

The guilt was killing him most of all, and he just needed to not be talking to Chelsea at the moment.

"Come on, not even a make out?"

He stiffened, quickly growing annoyed with her persistent questions. This was Bella's doing, he was sure. Before, he would've played along with Chelsea, humoring her, and now, he had no patience for it. He had tried so hard to be the perfect boyfriend, and now, it was the same old story. Jekyll and Hyde, indeed. "Why would I tell you?"

Chelsea paused, slightly surprised by the sharp tinge in his voice. "Because we've built our relationship on honesty, but our friendship is first and foremost?"

"There's no one."

"Lies!" she said shrilly, waiting for his equally over-dramatic response.

"Chelsea. Stop it." Edward's shoulders slouched, and he wanted nothing more than to be off the phone with her. "I'm by myself. I swear."

Not exactly a lie.

Chelsea was quiet for a moment. "Hey- what's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"You're in a bad mood."

"I just didn't get any sleep."

"But-"

His eyes narrowed. "Who are you fucking, if you're so curious about my extracurriculars?" Chelsea was silent, and Edward dropped to the couch, feeling his chest start to tighten. "What."

"I kind of made out with a friend from high school," she said softly. "We got drunk at this game bar and a game of truth or dare started-"

"Okay."

Chelsea sighed shakily, her shoulders slouching at the evenness of his voice. "We're on a break, Edward. You promised me you would have fun."

Edward blinked rapidly, not wanting to think of Chelsea kissing another man, even if he was busy fucking his ex. He couldn't. He couldn't when he was doing worse, far worse, but he couldn't help but feel betrayed. And angry. "Oh, I'm definitely going to have fun now."

"Edward, don't."

"Don't what?"

She inhaled deeply. "Don't be like this. Please? We were doing so well- just don't get mad."

He laughed, shaking his head. "I have to go."

"Okay..."

The hurt in Chelsea's voice made Edward's heart ache, and he hated it. He just wanted to be angry without his stupid conscience butting in. "I'll talk to you later," he said quickly, hanging up on her. He closed his eyes as the guilt settled in and made itself comfortable. They were on a break, but he felt like he was cheating on her.

He knew he was. He was cheating on his new girlfriend with his old one. He was a fucking mess. Once a fuck-up, always a fuck-up.

Edward felt like throwing up.