Hello all! Please don't kill me! I know it's been a while, but this is the third version of this chapter. The first version was awful. I mean it was total crap. So thank you for your patience…the wait shouldn't be nearly as long after this. I can say I have a firm grasp of where this story is headed – and now I like it.

That being said, thanks to everyone who has this story on alert or on his or her favorites list! You are all the best!! I never imagined I would receive over a hundred reviews!!!!!!! Also, thanks for the massive amounts of PMs encouraging me to keep on writing.

I also own nothing. Just my lovely little plot.

WARNING: Unpleasantness. Dark.

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Morning arrived more quickly than she had anticipated. The feeling of vulnerability overwhelmed her almost instantly as she opened her eyes. The sheets and blanket fell with the weight of gravity as she sat up in her bed. She was lost in her thoughts immediately, trying to recall again the answers he had provided to her questioning.

The most complicated thing in this moment was piecing the information together into a way that could be helpful to her. He could hear thoughts, but not hers. He had called her something…an anomaly. Unique. When she had asked as to why he was so intrigued by her, this was the only answer he continued to provide. It didn't matter how many times she asked – the answer was always the same: it was all in the name of fascination.

"I have the ability to hear thoughts," he had whispered against the flesh of her neck. "But you, you are the only mind to ever confound my ability."

The echoes of his voice in her memories caused a wave of chills down her spine. She felt a moment of insecurity as she sat in her bed – a moment of insanity where she thought perhaps there was something wrong with her mind. This was another instance where she felt like an outsider…a stranger among those who were considered her fellow man.

Sitting alone in the room, she shook her head at the thoughts lapsing through her mind. There was something wrong with her? The more she pondered the insanity of this train of thought, the more she realized this could be of use. Though he had promised punishment to those dear to her if she made an attempt to escape or broke his rules Bella knew she had to try. The key was finding a way to use his inability to hear her thoughts and evade his other keen senses.

The key would be to plan to evade everyone all together. She would have to keep Charlie safe, first and foremost. The more she plotted, the more she knew she had to keep up a façade of obedience in order to prevent discovery.

Still slightly wobbly, Bella uncovered herself and stood from the bed. As she stretched her sore muscles, she again noted the white of bandages wrapped around her wrist. How would she explain this away to Charlie? Her father knew she had been "sick" for the last couple of days. Knowing her father's distaste for illness, Bella knew that providing the bottle of aspirin, maybe checking on her once or twice, and making sure she had fluids was the most care he would provide. She would probably have to pass it off as another clumsy encounter with her arm and the oven that had occurred before she was sick. It was easier than trying to say she had stitches or cut her arm with something, as he would probably want to take her to the hospital to have it checked out.

She lifted two fingers up to touch the second mark on her collarbone. It too was still hidden under white softness. Taking a glance in the mirror over her dresser, she noted that the bandage was only visible if she pulled her shirt tight against her chest. She frowned as she paused to consider her face: deep bags under her eyes, sallow pale skin, limp hair and wide brown eyes that appeared almost sunken into their sockets. With a sigh, Bella turned from the mirror and picked up her towel to head into the shower. Maybe that would help?

Bella flicked the switch on the bathroom wall and let the light fill the small room. She tossed her towel on the sink and then turned the hot water tap in the shower on full power. With a sigh, she began to remove her clothing one article at a time. As she finished pulling off her shirt, Bella struggled to decide if she should take the bandages off while she showered. They appeared to be fairly fresh, put on to apply pressure where necessary and also conceal the wounds. She recalled his cold reasoning behind the bandages: to prevent his toy from dying and permanently ending his little game.

She struggled. Would he punish her for something as trivial as removing the bandages on her body? It had been two days since he had initially bandaged her wounds and placed her in her bed. This thought alone pushed her over the edge and she forcefully pulled the square of cotton from her collar. Forgetting entirely about the second bite, Bella returned to the bathroom sink and looked into the mirror there. It was already slightly clouded by fog, so she used her hand to clear the obstruction away. Her eyes immediately sought out the mark and she had to fight back a shout of surprise.

Red marks, almost jagged, were perfectly aligned in the formation of a crescent. They were perfect impressions of teeth. Stunned, she ran a finger over the mark. She was surprised to discover that it was much larger than she imagined and it was several degrees cooler than her body. Yellow and blue bruising surrounded each little indent in her flesh; a thin crusting of old blood left macabre trails over the milky whiteness of her skin.

The mark reminded Bella of the first time she had uncovered her wrist and she fought back a gag of disgust. Finding the reminders of his bite should not have been such a shock. Bella's knees shook and she gripped the edge of the countertop so tightly her knuckles turned white with the pressure. She closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on not fainting or collapsing. If she did, Charlie would knock down the bathroom door and start asking questions she couldn't even begin to answer.

Her shallow breathing echoed against the background noise of the still-running faucet in the shower. She looked away from the now foggy mirror to look at the running water and then turned back to the blurry reflection. Brown eyes looked down at the hands gripping the counter but were immediately attracted to the white covering her wrist. She peeled her hands away from their respective locations and put a finger under the bandage. Well, it's now or never, she thought to herself.

Wincing slightly, she tore the white cotton away. It ripped smoothly this time and she allowed it to drop to the linoleum. A cry of outrage slipped past her lips at the sight of her ravaged wrist. When he had gouged his fingertips into the wound to draw her blood, he had hurt muscle, bone and flesh alike. Her wrist was nearly black from the bruising and was also covered in a thick layer of dried blood. The mark was larger here – stretching across the width of her wrist easily and the edges of the wound were visible even on the top of her wrist. Against the bruising, she could make out the crescent shaped bite glistening with fresh blood and clear fluids. Much like on her chest, the imprints of teeth were obvious to her eyes.

She struggled to push back the horror of her existence. Since he had entered her life, her whole world was now thrown into upheaval. She was his property now. More than once he had verbally staked his claim over her – and yet more troubling, he had also marked her body.

Bella couldn't help but wonder what fresh hell awaited her at school this morning. Would he make it obvious she belonged to him? Would he kill anyone who dared to get too close? What would happen if she simply decided to forgo school all together and simply run away?

As she entertained the idea of ignoring school with him all together, she was again brought down to the reality of her situation. She was at the mercy of her captor unless she didn't mind watching her father be murdered in cold blood.

Frustrated, Bella tore her eyes away from her wrist and walked back to the shower. She noted the steam pillowing around the rushing water and turned the other dial to cold in order to make the water a more bearable temperature. She stepped under the spray and quickly washed her hair and her body, trying to be as gentle as possible when cleansing the still raw bites.

After she was finished, she stepped out and covered herself in a thick towel from the rack on the wall. She tried not to focus on the way her whole body hurt or the deep bruising on her left wrist. In fact, she tried to not focus on anything at all.

Bella quickly brushed her teeth and then proceeded into her bedroom. Her gaze was focused on the carpet as she walked rather than paying attention to her surroundings. She headed immediately for her dresser, where she fished through the drawers for a pair of jeans, underwear, and a bra. However, as she stood up, her eyes caught the reflection of bronze hair in the mirror.

Startled, Bella gasped and subsequently dropped the towel. It fell to the floor in a heap. She made no move to retrieve it.

Her visitor chuckled at her response. "Breathe Bella."

She was so stunned she simply tried to get her breathing under control as she slowly turned to face him. Her chest felt like it was constricting at the sight of Edward. He was standing there, perfectly disheveled as always, in a pair of jeans and a tight black tee shirt with a black jacket over it.

What confused Bella so much was exactly why she struggling to breathe. She wanted to blame it on fear, but she also felt strangely attuned to him. This reminded her of the moment when his mouth had been stained in her blood; when her thoughts had drifted to how beautiful he looked in that instant. Though Bella did not wish to recall any of those memories willingly, her subconscious had both isolated and locked away those split seconds for the rest of her existence.

As she gained control of her breathing and her rampant thoughts, Bella managed, "What are you doing here?"

He continued to smile as he stared at her unabashedly. "Mmm, you look delectable," he replied, ignoring her question entirely. He stepped toward her, which caused Bella to take a step back. She rammed into the dresser and it shook from the impact.

"S-Stay away!"

Bella reached down and snatched up the towel she had dropped, covering herself with it right away. He remained silent as he watched her movements. She knew that if he desired to, he could easily uncover her again. She was at his mercy.

"You look so beautiful with my marks on your body," he told her. His eyes were different today, she noticed. Instead of piercing red or inky black, they were now a strange shade of dark brown. He noticed the way she was examining his eyes and answered the unspoken question. "Contacts. They keep anyone from asking questions."

He took another step toward her and again she tried to take a step back. She hit the dresser again, and then moved around next to it. Her back was now pressed into the wall as far as possible. She felt a wave of fear as he continued his predatory stride in her direction. He stopped about a foot from her and reached out a hand to cup her cheek.

She looked up at him completely confused.

The hand on her cheek trailed down her neck, caressed across the hollow in her throat, and then ghosted over the crescent mark still healing over her collar. She hissed in pain as his fingertips grazed the sensitive flesh. "It hurts," she whimpered in pain. Bella lifted her left hand to illustrate that both bites were hurting her still.

Edward leaned toward her chest and she felt a wet, cold, rough object caressing the wound there. She shuddered at the feeling of cold on her sensitive skin. His tongue passed over the wound once, then twice before he raised his head. Strangely, the pain had been significantly reduced.

She watched with wide eyes as he reached behind himself to retrieve a box of cotton squares and medical tape. He swiftly bandaged the bite with the items, making sure they would stay firmly in place. After he had replaced the medical supplies on the dresser, he reached out and took her injured wrist into his grasp. Gently, he repeated the process of first laving the wound with his tongue and then bandaging it up.

Bella was absolutely lost. Was this the same man who had thrown her around like a broken doll and drained her blood?

He was still very close to her. His proximity was making her heart frantically flutter in fear.

Slowly he put his ear over her chest, directly over her heart.

"I savor this," he muttered against her chest. "As long as you obey me, your heart will continue to beat without interruption."

He pulled back and his eyes were burning a way through Bella's soul.

"I will always be watching you, my kitten."

She nodded, unable to find the appropriate response.

His eyes gave her a once over, tracing over the outline of her curves. Bella was still. Her whole world had been shaken by an act of tenderness overshadowed by a loosely veiled threat to her life.

Her hands gripped the towel tightly. She watched him as he slowly took in every nuance of her form.

The silence paired with the almost sexual way his eyes devoured her body caused her knees to weaken. Would he attack her again?

The silence felt heavy and unmanageable.

Murky brown sought out hers, despite Bella's attempts to avoid eye contact.

"Isabella," he snapped.

Reflexively, as even after only a couple of days in his presence he had already garnered obedience, her head snapped up and she looked him in the eyes.

He laughed which filled the space between them with the rich velvet sound. "Get dressed."

She flushed and quickly turned around to bring her attention back to the clothes scattered across the top of the dresser. Once she had gathered the necessary items, she pivoted her body and crashed into a wall of cold muscle.

Her clothes fluttered to the floor again, forgotten.

"What do you want? You just told me to get dressed – now get out!"

His returning smile was amused.

"You heard me!" she said abruptly, tugging upwards on the towel to protect the remnants of her dignity.

"You know your modesty is of no importance to me," he told her. "Yet, by all means, get dressed. I will not be leaving."

Frustrated, Bella picked up the clothes and walked around him toward the bathroom. A strong hand on her arm halted her movement toward the door. She tried to pull her arm out of his grasp but it was useless – he was simply much stronger than she. Instead, she settled for glaring at him. "What do you want?"

"You heard me," came his retort.

He relinquished his grip on her and she continued her move toward the bedroom door. Right as she was about to open it, a hand pressed against the wood to shut it. The hand was inches from her face and Bella could feel the cold emanating from his skin. She tilted her head back to glare at Edward and was greeted by a pair of cold dark eyes.

His second marble hand came up to run along her right side before it rested on her hip. Bella tried to squirm out of his grasp. His proximity was making her nervous, panicked. "Oh no," he breathed into her ear. "You aren't going to get away so easily." His body inched closer to her prone form until he rested his cheek on her shoulder.

Bella shivered at the cold contact of his skin on hers. She felt his cold breath as it spilled against the side of her face, into her ear, and drifted toward her nose. Unwillingly, her eyes closed. She willed herself to stay still, knowing that jerking away from him could cause him to snap.

"Isabella," he breathed into her ear, "do you want me to punish you? You are so stubborn, so headstrong, that you forget that your life is forfeit." His mouth drew down on the side of her neck, just below her ear, causing Bella to freeze. "This," he said as he licked a long line down her flesh, "is all mine."

Her heart pounded when she felt the hand on her grab tightly. "It's a pity we have a façade to maintain. I would love to have another little snack right now."

Abruptly he released her. Shaky, Bella stepped away so that her back was against the door.

"Change right now," he snarled. The threat in his eyes was obvious if she decided to disobey.

Bella unceremoniously allowed the items of clothing she had been holding to fall to the ground. Swiftly, she dropped the towel and began to dress before his eyes. Her face burned hot with a blush of both embarrassment and fury.

"Are you happy now?" she demanded as soon as she was fully dressed.

"Very," he almost purred as he moved into her personal space once more. As he was about to press his chest against hers, Bella attempted to push him away. The smile returned to Edward's face as he utilized his superior strength to knock her hands away with ease.

She stumbled forward because she hadn't realized she was putting every ounce of her strength into keeping him away. Her wrist was throbbing as a result of the force she had been using. With the hand that wasn't hurting, Bella reached up to push her long hair out of her face.

She also made an attempt to express how much she loathed Edward through a pointed glare.

He reached down to Bella and gently ran a finger along the curve of her jaw. He ignored her scowl and turned her head to the side. Bending down, he whispered in her ear, "Now love, hate on, for I know thy mind."

The words triggered a wave of panic in Bella's thoughts. This was the third time she had heard that line in as much as a week. What the hell was going on here? First it appeared in her lost book – on the dedication page, no less. Then it had been spoken out loud by Edward in class, which had almost caused her to have a full on panic attack. And now, now he was whispering those same words in her ear as she tried to evade his advances.

"Why are you repeating the words you read in class?" It wasn't the question she really wanted to ask. Bella was starting to formulate theories but found herself petrified at the implications. If she were correct…if she were correct, this would mean Edward had come here for something more than simply satiating a curiosity. It would imply that he hadn't merely come across her closed mind by accident.

Okay, she had to stop that train of thought before she panicked.

"It seemed fitting," he told her. "You hate me. I can see it in your eyes, feel it tingling under your skin. However, you are too afraid to express it." He had been looking at her, his reddish hair almost brighter in the dim light of the early morning. His skin looked sallow under the strange combination of overhead and natural light.

"You don't know my mind."

He laughed. "No kitten, I never know exactly what goes on in that mind of yours." He released her jaw forcefully. Bella put a hand behind her neck and slowly tried to release the kink there by moving her head slightly back to the right. "You wear your emotions on your sleeve. You are a terrible liar."

He extended his index finger and tapped her chest, directly over her heart. "You make it so easy for me to manipulate you, kitten." Bella reached up and shoved his finger away, which only made his smile more vibrant. "I can tell you don't mind all of this closeness, nor do you really desire for me to exit your life."

"Pardon me, but that is complete bullshit," she snapped at him. "You honestly believe that I enjoy having you toy with me? That I enjoy being used as though I am a walking personal blood bank? That I enjoy wondering what misstep will result in you killing my father?"

The two stared at each other for a silent moment.

"You are very lucky in this moment that I have already enjoyed a meal today," Edward told her as his eyes bored into hers. "You are very wrong in some of your assumptions as well. The issue is not whether or not your father will be killed, but rather when."

"No!" she shouted at him. "You and I have an agreement, monster. I obey by telling no one of your secrets and he remains alive."

"Your obedience only prolongs his life," came his response. "You make a rightful assumption when you call me 'monster'." Edward crouched down to eye level with Bella without breaking eye contact. "I am a monster," he hissed, "and nothing can keep me from what I want. And you are what I want. You belong to me, Isabella."

Bella opened her mouth to retort, but was cut off by him again.

"Get out of my sight."

She didn't need to be told again. Bella turned around and opened the door she had been resting against and retreated downstairs. Would he follow her after such a dismissal? She watched the stairs as though he would appear at any moment. After about five minutes, she gave up. Perhaps he was waiting outside for her?

She moved into the kitchen and popped two pieces of bread into the toaster. After lying in bed for more than 48 hours, Bella wasn't sure her stomach could handle much more than that. She was barely able to do more than guzzle the aspirin and water Charlie had left by her bedside when Edward decided to make a four am visit. Her mind raced as she waited for the toast to pop up, thoughts centered on how accurately he could read her emotions. Panic overwhelmed her as she continued to mull over the realization that her father would die regardless of what she did or did not do. Edward had all but provided an exact date for his death.

The sound of the toast popping out of the machine made her jump. She didn't reach for it as she considered why he would kill her father. Why would he go so far as to kill Charlie even if she continued to obey Edward's rules?

Oh shit.

He would kill her father if he were planning on taking her with him.

He would kill anyone who may miss or search for her if she were to suddenly disappear.

Bella looked over at the toast in disgust. Her stomach turned over at the thought of food, and she instead grabbed her backpack and her keys.

As she stepped out into the dim Forks version of daylight, Bella couldn't help but wonder how far this little game of Edward's would go.

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Bella pulled into her usual parking spot with nervous apprehension. That he hadn't forced her to go with him was very unnerving. After their early morning conversation, she was expecting him to demand that she remain within his sight at all times. Which, when Bella considered how his mind reading worked, was easily attainable even if she was in another building or across town.

The cattle like minds of her peers provided the means for him to watch her every move.

She opened the driver's side door and gathered her things. She turned to slam it shut and saw his eyes watching her. Bella clamped a hand over her mouth to prevent omitting a shriek of surprise.

His crooked smile was filled with dark promise.

She knew it was useless, but she had to try. Removing the hand from over her lips, Bella prepared to tell him to stay away. Right as she was about to vocalize her thoughts, he pressed his right hand over her mouth.

"I will be watching you, as always," he said in a low tone.

Her head nodded in understanding. He removed his hand at her response.

Without another word, she watched his lean form walk away. She watched the movement of his hips and shoulders as he departed. His grace had been evident before she knew of his true nature, but now it was almost glaringly obvious he was more than extraordinary.

With a sigh, she adjusted her backpack on her back and headed toward class.

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The day was unusually quiet.

English was passing by at a very dull roar. She had been expecting questions about her absence - but apparently Charlie had already told the school she had been very ill with the flu.

She only had one scare today, which occurred when she was changing for her early gym class.

Without thinking about it, she had pulled off her shirt and inadvertently exposed not only the bandages on her body but also the bruises. Paired with Bella's haggard appearance, this caused the girls to stare. Almost immediately the questions started: were you really sick? Is your dad hurting you? Did you hurt yourself? Her heart began to beat frantically as she searched for a believable lie that would prevent any further questioning. How could she have missed the obvious black and blue bruises on her torso this morning? What the hell was wrong with her?

"No," she had finally managed, "I had a series of clumsy accidents before I caught the flu. You know how uncoordinated I am."

One of her few friends, Angela, had simply provided Bella with a soft smile. "Just make sure you take care of yourself."

At the lack of juicy gossip, the group of annoyingly curious girls dispersed to the gym area. Afterwards, she had dressed quickly in her gym clothes and pulled her sweatshirt on to cover the marks. She sat down on one of the benches to try and calm down. It took a couple of minutes but eventually her breathing slowed as her heart calmed.

"Bella?" came the teacher's voice. She snapped back to the subject at hand and flushed as she realized she had no idea what was going on.

"I'm sorry," Bella told the teacher, "I'm still feeling a little sick."

"Would you like to see the nurse?"

She shook her head in a no, her gaze drifting over to Edward. He was sitting in the corner of the classroom, focused on her – not unlike the rest of the class.

"No thank you," was her polite reply.

"Well then, for Ms. Swan's benefit, I will repeat the instructions," the teacher told the class. Her flush deepened as he continued. "You will pair up and work together on this worksheet about Shakespeare's life. Afterwards, each group will be given a particular sonnet to dissect and then present that dissection to the class. This will be due on Friday."

Bella tried to suppress her annoyance at the busy work.

Around her, the class paired up. Bella didn't really feel like seeking out a partner who would inevitably end up butchering and/or misinterpreting a sonnet. Exercises like these were always painful to her. The worksheet passed to her seemed like it would take her five minutes at most, probably fifteen if she were paired up with one of her classmates.

"Partners?" a masculine voice asked her. Bella looked up from the worksheet and saw Tyler pulling up a chair to her desk. She repressed the urge to roll her eyes.

"Sure, why not?"

As the two settled in to work on the paper together, Bella ignored the rest of the class. It was easy and friendly working with Tyler. He was a nice guy, albeit a little boring, but still nice. The time and worksheet passed swiftly.

As Bella stood to hand in her worksheet, a hand grabbed her wounded wrist. She felt tears prick in her eyes at the strong burning pain brought back to life at the touch. She turned her head and saw Edward standing there. "What do you want?" she demanded. He released her wrist and held up his paper.

"I just need a little help with this part about the Globe Theater," he replied with a dangerous smile.

"Oh really?" she muttered, "I was under the impression you were there when Shakespeare was at his peak."

He took a step into her and lowly replied, "No, that was before I had been born."

She shook her head. "What help do you need?"

"Well," he said as he passed her the worksheet, "I was wondering if you could look over these answers."

What was he playing at now?

Annoyed, Bella looked down at the worksheet. His handwriting was immaculate, delicate, almost as though it was from another age. It was stunning… and familiar.

Her whole body flushed with heat at the realization. She recognized that penmanship. It now graced the dedication page of her beat up copy of Wuthering Heights as it spelled out a threat on the musty pages.

This handwriting had been plaguing her mind as it tried to connect the notes to an owner.

However, she now had the answer.

The truth of the realization was poignant. Her whole body felt as though it had been dipped in a vat of ice water and then forced over an open flame. At first Bella felt her hands shaking, but as she tried to prevent her heart from overloading, she noted her whole body had been taken over by small jerky movements.

She also noted there was a strange gasping sound filling the air. It sounded like someone was holding back sobs.

After a couple of seconds, she realized the sounds were coming from her. She was gasping for air like a drowning woman. Her eyes darted around frantically for some kind of help or reassurance. Though she knew her classmates would remain oblivious to her reaction, she silently pleaded that someone, anyone, would notice and help her get away from here.

Away from him.

Her frantic search for help stopped abruptly when she saw Edward. An almost maniacal grin was on his face. He had been waiting for her to discover the truth. Was this part of his twisted game? How long had he been watching her? Had he stolen more of her things? Why? What was this?

All around them the students and teacher remained oblivious. She wanted to cry out for help, cry out in despair, anything – but knew it would be in vain. They would never believe there was danger. They would never agree to do more than take her to the nurse, whereupon she would be given a pass to go home where he would still be waiting.

The bell rang in the background. As the room emptied she found her voice. "It's you!!!!"

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