Disclaimer - I don't own Twilight or any recognizable characters, this is written for fun with no copy rite infringement intended.

Thanks as always to Rita01TX for the edit, Keye for the preread and Claudia for the banner.

Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, recommended, PM'd, followed or favorited. It makes me happy to know you're enjoying this ride. For the record (and I know I'm repeating myself) this story is going to be Bella and Edward, but I need you all to go on Edward's journey first, so we know and understand the man who will emerge on the other side.

BTW, since FicTease has closed its doors, I've decided to post weekly teasers on Fic Central (they post them on a Monday, so that fits nicely with my Tuesday posting here.) I did a trial run last week, then totally forgot to let everyone know, {facepalm.}

Enjoy.

Chapter 7

At the insistent sounds of another morning in Hell, I blinked awake and ran my hands through my hair. It was starting to get too long. I thought about asking Emmett to take a razor to it after he'd finished shaving…then again, no. I still didn't know how he'd removed Laurent's fingers and I was quite attached to my ears. Maybe I'd ask Alec, instead.

I puffed out a big breath. Considering I had the bedtime of an average ten-year-old, I felt wrecked but put it down to worrying about my own safety, mixed up with memories of Rose's attack.

"Well, well, well…the Kraken awakes!"

McCarty was already brushing his teeth, a battered clock radio playing tinny music in the background. We'd been cellmates for sixteen days and I had yet to be the first one to the sink.

"Fuck off," I muttered, yawning as I rolled onto my side the better to watch him.

"Aww, tired and a little grumpy are we, princess?" he crooned.

Great, a new nickname. As much as I hated being called a kid, this one was worse. It wouldn't pay to make a big deal out of it, though. He'd probably just get a kick out of using it every opportunity, if I did. I flipped him the bird and he chuckled.

"Seriously, dude. You need to do something about those nightmares."

Fuck! I thought it had just been the one time...the night I'd arrived.

"Really? Shit, man, I'm sorry."

He turned back to the mirror, stretching his mouth and baring his teeth to check his handiwork.

"You gonna tell me what happened to Rose?"

Double fuck! Had I been talking or, worse, shouting in my sleep? I'd been thinking about Rose before I fell asleep. My mind raced, trying to remember the dream but, frustratingly, I drew a blank. I decided to play dumb.

"What do you mean?"

His reflection raised an eyebrow at me.

"You, yelling her name over and over, wrestling with the sheets. I thought I was gonna have to climb up there and knock you out again."

That prospect put a grimace on my face, which he ignored.

"Seriously, I think I have a right to know why my sleep is being disturbed." He let the toothbrush plop into the sink, "So, spill it…what happened to Rose? Hang on a minute; you didn't do something to hurt her, did you?"

"No! She's my sister, you moron. I wouldn't hurt her, not ever."

He stared at me impassively, weighing up whether to believe me or not.

"Okay, 'cause I don't hold with hitting women." The corner of his mouth twitched. "A little light spanking, maybe, but never hitting."

"No, you save that for your cellmates."

He shrugged.

"Sooo...what happened to her."

"Listen, I don't want to talk about it, okay?"

"Fine, but disturb me tonight and I'll make you talk."

He scowled and I had no doubt he meant it. Thinking about Laurent's damaged hand, I couldn't help curling mine into tight, finger-protecting fists.

When the doors opened, I made sure to stick close to McCarty as we filed down to the shower block. No way did I want to run into Laurent and James while I was naked, in case they saw it as an invitation.

Before I was sent down, I'd heard tales of inmates making the mistake of "dropping the soap," so it took me three days into my sentence to pluck up enough courage to actually take one. Two weeks in and I didn't turn a hair at being right in the middle of a dozen, naked, hairy men. In fact, nowadays, I was more annoyed we were only allowed three minutes. There were days I could've used a longer soak.

Feeling a little more awake, I shambled down to the cafeteria, all the while keeping a lookout for Alec, but he wasn't around. I deliberately watched Laurent from the corner of my eye as he carried his breakfast tray to a table. He didn't seem to pay me any attention and even sat with his back to me but the weasely looking guy with dirty, blond hair sitting opposite smirked as I caught his eye. I guessed it was his cohort, James.

"Good morning, Mr. Cullen."

I cringed at the slimy voice instantly recognizable as belonging to Aro Volturi.

"Hey," I mumbled. It killed me to have to make any conversation with this guy and I cursed Alec for not being here. I met his bloodshot, rodent eyes and tried to keep a poker face as he stretched his lips into a wide smile.

"We haven't spoken for a while and I wondered if there was anything you needed, yet? Booze, smokes...something a little stronger, perhaps?"

This guy really gave me the creeps, reminding me of that old, black and white movie vampire, Nosferatu. His hands clutched together, gliding around the place with stealth, rather than walking like everyone else.

"I'm good, thanks," I said, swilling back a gulp of juice from my plastic cup. He glanced over my shoulder to where James and Laurent sat.

"You sure about that?"

A shiver ran my spine. Did he know their plans, too? And just what the hell did he think I needed? A shank? A gun? A Taser? More important, what would I need to promise him in return? My eternal soul? I could be exchanging one problem for another and I didn't trust this slimy bastard as far as I could throw him. He was right about one thing, though. Having some kind of weapon might not be such a bad idea.

"Yep, I'm certain...but thanks anyway."

His false smile faltered and I watched him sidle away, looking for his next victim.

In the workshop, I was careful to hide what I was doing as I used the grinding wheel to sharpen an offcut of steel until it was as sharp as a razor. I punched two holes large enough for my fingers to slip through in the opposite side and carried it out in my sock, being sure to roll the top down over it so I didn't cut myself before I could get it back to my cell.

Lunch came and went with still no sign of Alec. I was starting to wonder if he was sick so I decided to check his cell.

Empty. I frowned at the uneasy feeling it gave me. Something wasn't right.

"Anything wrong, Cullen?" The deep, booming voice of one of the guards rang out and I automatically felt guilty being caught lurking around Alec's bunk.

"No, sir...I just wondered if maybe Alec was sick or something since he wasn't in the cafeteria."

Mr. Uley lifted his eyebrows, which slid his cap farther down his brow, shielding his dark eyes.

"No, he wouldn't be. He's in the infirmary."

My eyes widened. "So, he is sick?"

"It's none of your business, boy. Now, go on and get the fuck out of here." He drew himself up, squaring his shoulders like he was preparing to throw his weight around.

Fucker.

"Yes, sir." It killed me feign politeness but the guards ate this acting humble shit up and I couldn't afford to be making enemies with them, especially not when I was carrying a concealed weapon in my sock.

I dragged my heels as I meandered back to my own cell. Why would Alec be in the infirmary? He looked healthy enough yesterday. Well, he was in good spirits, at any rate. Maybe he'd eaten something nasty and gotten food poisoning in the middle of the night. It wouldn't surprise me, at all. Some of the inmates who worked in the kitchen didn't exactly take personal hygiene very seriously.

Emmett was in my chair reading a book when I made it back; some kind of murder mystery, from the cover art. I must have let the surprise show on my face as I settled in his usual place on the bunk because he gave me a sideways look.

"I am capable of reading, you know," he muttered.

"Which is it, Dr. Seuss or Jack and Jill?" I snorted and he stuck his middle finger up. I don't know exactly how it happened but we seemed to have settled into this routine of ribbing one another that kind of felt comfortable. I knew for a fact he wouldn't take this crap off anyone else and that, in itself, made me feel privileged.

"Alec's in the infirmary," I said.

"I know," he replied, keeping his eyes trained on the page of text he was reading. "He got beat up last night before lights out."

I gasped. Was I always going to be the last one to know things around here?

"Was it Laurent or James?" I asked and he frowned, slipping a sliver of newspaper between the pages before closing the book.

"Why would it be one of them?" he asked and I shrugged, still unsure of his reaction to knowing Alec had already warned me about Laurent before clamming up and pointing me in his direction for answers to my questions.

"It was one of Volturi's goons teaching him a lesson in the importance of making prompt repayments."

"Shit!" Aro had goons? I'd never seen him hanging out with anyone else. The attack must've come out of nowhere because Alec didn't seem concerned yesterday. I wondered how much damage had been done to take him out of the population.

There was that creeping, sickly feeling of dread again. I was too innocent and naïve to survive in this place. Aro knew it. McCarty knew it. Laurent knew it. Hell, everyone fucking knew it. My weedy arms weren't the only comparison I could make to Kermit the Frog. For a criminal, I was incredibly green.

"I didn't even know he had dealings with Volturi."

"Alec's a damn fool. He's been inside long enough to know you don't jerk around the guys with the biggest dicks."

I couldn't imagine Aro packing much meat in his pants but I understood what he meant.

There was a long, uncomfortable pause while McCarty looked me over and I felt the urge to say something…anything that would fill the empty void with words.

"Yeah, well…um, anyone coming in to visit you today?" I asked, trying not to sound like I was blurting out the first thing that came into my head.

"Yep, my mom will be here," he sighed, "so…that'll be fun."

"Why? Does she still get upset at seeing her little boy in here?" I didn't mean to sound sarcastic but he weighed my intentions anyway before he replied.

"Nah, she gives me a hard time about how selfish I've been wasting my life in here and depriving her of grandchildren. Says she's gonna die old and lonely."

"Huh, some heavy shit to lay on you, dude."

"Not really; I get her point. I'm an only child and, unless I get out early, which is doubtful 'cause I don't always toe the line in here, I'll be thirty-five when I'm released. Then what? I would've spent fifteen years living under this roof and it's way too easy here."

Sighing at the confused look on my face, he sagged against the back of the chair before continuing.

"Look. In here, I don't have to think. I have a routine, food is provided, there's no nine-to-five boss to kiss up to, and no fucking bills to pay. Hell, I don't even know how to balance a checkbook. What girl in her right mind is gonna want to get tangled up with an institutionalized, ex-bank robber who cut off a guy's fingers to get some respect."

He looked pensive as he spoke and it was the first glimpse he'd shown of having a vulnerable side. It was a side I didn't like to see so I hit him with a comeback.

"Well, when you put it like that, you're totally fucked."

He could have taken offense and demolished me but, instead, he just shook his head and laughed.

"Yep, well and truly ass-fucked." He winked and a ripple of panic ran through me. I rotated my foot just to feel the comforting weight of the blade in my sock. "Anyway, anyone coming to see your ugly face?"

I let him get away with that one. "Yeah, my sister."

"Rose?" he asked, brightening considerably.

"She's the only one I got."

"Cool! Hey, maybe you could introduce me," he said, chuckling.

"Yeah, 'cause she's really into institutionalized, ex-bank robber types."

"Fuck you, smart mouth."

He shook his head and flipped his book open. Smoothing his heavy palm along the page, he creased the spine and effectively ended the conversation.

Later that day, against a murmur of hushed conversations, McCarty and I stood in line on one side of the corridor while a couple of guards I didn't really know yet moved us along. I glanced down the shuffling column of inmates all struggling to keep quiet and couldn't help thinking how we looked like the world's most shambolic dodge ball team.

"Inmates," Mr. Cameron's voice boomed. "You know the drill. Find your table and sit down. You will remain seated. No visitors will be admitted until everyone is seated. No passing messages. No extended physical contact, and no score settling. Gentlemen, I will be watching."

He paused for effect, rocking back a little on the heels of his shiny black boots, hands clasped behind his back. Most of the guards I'd come across were okay but Cameron was always so serious. No doubt they pretended to be interested in what was going on thinking we'd be less likely to take a potshot at them if we thought they were friendly. This guy's face could've been carved from stone and, if I had to guess, I'd say he was around twenty-two years old, which was awfully young to have such a big stick up his ass.

He pressed down on the door release and everyone filed in. This being a regular thing for most of the guys, they already knew where they were heading. In my ignorance, I almost held back too long and didn't find an empty table until they were nearly all occupied.

The noise levels rose exponentially as the excitement of seeing loved ones continued to build.

Nearly fifty tables were set out in rows of six to ten with anywhere from four to eight chairs to a table. McCarty sat in the row behind me while James was sitting at the table immediately to my left. I refused to let my eyes wander in his direction.

Visiting day is a very big deal around here. Our mail is opened and censored before we receive it so this is our one chance to talk with reasonable freedom and maintain a connection to the outside world. My knee was bouncing under the table at the prospect of seeing Rose.

"Hey, Cullen."

It was James's voice, no more than a callous whisper. I took no notice, keeping my eyes trained on the main entrance door.

"I said...Cullen!" he repeated, this time too loud to be ignored. I turned slightly to face him, making sure to keep my expression neutral. He was grinning like The Joker, his blond ponytail slung over one shoulder.

"Saw you in the showers, man. That's a sweet ass you got there. I'm gonna enjoy pounding it while I think about my girl."

Shit! I didn't flinch…not at all. I'd be damned if I'd give him the satisfaction of knowing he'd rattled me. My fingers flexed, gripping the edge of the table. Any tighter and I'd have crumbled it to sawdust.

It wasn't the reaction he was hoping for and the smirk slid from his face. I think he was fishing for a full blown panic attack, his way of building the anticipation. But, if I'd learned anything from watching McCarty, it was to keep calm and take no shit. Plus, I had an ace in the hole James didn't know about. My bootleg blade was my trump card and one I wouldn't hesitate to use on him if I had to.

"You deaf or just plain dumb, boy?" he scowled.

I snorted and turned away, focusing all my energy on keeping my breathing level and ignoring the pool of saliva accumulating at the back of my throat that was fast becoming painful. I refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing me swallow hard, not if it choked me. Besides, I was fairly confident he couldn't try anything in here. It was too public and crawling with guards who had nothing better to do than watch us like hawks. It was a shame I couldn't risk carrying the weapon in here but we were searched for contraband on exit and something in my sock would be easily found. Instead, I'd opened a few stitches on my mattress and hidden it among the springs.

A gangly looking guard opened the main door and a throng of people poured in, some jogging quickly over to their loved ones in order to make every second of this precious time count.

I was almost mesmerized watching them file past. They were all so colorful in their "outside" clothes. I'd grown so used to seeing only jumpsuits and neutral guard uniforms, this swell of multicolored, moving fabric was a feast for my eyes. I even zoned out a little…it was like seeing the circus come to town.

Then I spotted her.

Rose was one of the last to enter, almost dragging her heels. Even though she was alone, I'd secretly hoped Mom might have felt up to making the trip at the last minute. She'd already written ahead of time to apologize, blaming her absence on having to stay home for a repair guy, but I knew it was really because yesterday was her wedding anniversary. Dad had been gone almost two years and the pain was still too fresh. There was no way she could sit across the table from her incarcerated baby boy and not crumple into a sobbing mess.

A brassy, fake redhead pushed past my table and settled across from James, a low cut top and push-up bra making her small, pale breasts resemble two overturned soup bowls stuck to her chest. She looked like a hooker…definitely not my type but, somehow, the spectacle of her sparrow legs in mile-high wedges and short skirt was drawing my eyes.

"Yeah, baby. You lookin' good enough to eat," James growled, licking his lips lasciviously, and she squirmed with pleasure, literally basking in his approval. It was grotesquely fascinating, like watching a car crash in slow motion. She felt my eyes and blatantly stared back, pursing her glossy red lips.

"Do you think I look good enough to eat, sugar? 'Cause I think you look like you're starving for something to eat." Her hand slipped down to press hard at her crotch and, annoyingly, I felt my face flame.

"Aww, look, baby…he's so shy!" she shrieked to James, who guffawed explosively

I could feel my temper building and was glad when Rose sat down, giving me an excuse to ignore them.

Little did I know the bastard was just getting warmed up.

Sooo yeah, another cliffy. Love it, hate it? You know where the box is.

Claire ;)