Fallen Angels, Chapter 11: What's Done Is Done

A/N: Hello!! I want to thank all my faithful readers for making this a truly wonderful writing experience for me. I love opening my inbox to find your reviews…they always bring a smile to my face and remind me exactly why I continue on this fanfic journey!! Please forgive me if I don't always respond. Like many of you, I have a RL that takes precedence. I hope you understand.

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First, I'd like to thank both Shellsbells and Breakdownslowly for their super stellar review of FA on Edwardville on LJ (find the link on my FF profile and go check them out). I really cannot thank them enough for aiming a shiny spotlight on Mafiaward!!

Second, I'd like to send LOADS OF HUGS AND SMOOCHIES to my good friend, Mandy aka , for jumping into this chapter and bringing her gift for gab to Edward/Emmett when my funny bone got lost among the Edward/Esme emo. You rock chickiedoodle!! I seriously love you more than a chocolate covered Edward3 3 3

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Ok, a few final notes before I shut up and let you get to Edward…

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Ok, that's all for now!! On to Edward!!!

EPOV

I walked along the path to my dorm, continuing to rub my jaw and thankful that I'd at least have a couple hours of peace before I'd expected Emmett to slog in. I don't know how long I stood outside in the freezing cold, staring up at Bella's window and wrestling with whether I should go check on her or just leave her alone.

It wasn't until her light went out that I finally came to my senses and decided the best course of action was to take no action at all. Things had already spiraled way out of control and honestly, I needed some time to think…maybe even sleep if I could make my brain shut down for one fucking minute.

Of course, I wasn't an idiot. I knew that the task would prove more difficult than ever. My mind was already on overdrive, and I was fully aware of that fact. Bella had fucking made sure I'd remember what an ass I'd been, whether she'd intended to or not. Hell, that little memento was imprinted on my fucking jaw.

Oh, she'd intended it alright.

She'd fucking beat me into submission.

How the hell could someone that petite and delicate inflict that kind of pain anyway? Christ!

Climbing the front steps, I couldn't help but feel as if my whole life had become a blur since meeting Isabella Swan. She'd single-handedly taken every certainty in my life and tossed into oblivion, leaving me to re-evaluate everything I'd ever believed about myself. And it sucked.

For instance…I've always been fully aware that I'm an asshole. I thrive on it most days. I embrace it. And more than once it's managed to get me out of some seriously sticky situations, so I'm not ashamed to admit it.

Or at least, I wasn't ashamed to admit it until she popped into my existence. No woman had ever possessed the ability to turn me into such a hypersensitive heap of molten flesh. I don't know how she did it, but suddenly I was ready to do whatever it took to see that raging fire behind her eyes. And I'd do unspeakable things to anyone who caused it to flicker out.

And it had nothing to do with the possible concussion she'd given me, although…shit…I'm sure it didn't fucking help. No, this began the first moment I'd ever laid eyes on Bella. Something inside…some primal instinct or obscure and previously undiagnosed mental illness…made me completely obsessed with her wellbeing.

I hated it. I'd fought against it. And yet I wanted more. For the first time in my life, I wasn't cursing my own pathetic excuse for a life. I was cursing hers. And I'd do anything to make it better. That is, if she'd just let me.

And right now, I doubted she'd even give me two nods and a expeditious blow to the nuts. Ok, maybe not the two nods. But I wouldn't put it past her to grant me a serious blow to the groin, effectively killing my chances of ever procreating.

But hell, the last thing the world needs are ten little doppelganger Cullens running amuck. Talk about your signs of the impending apocalypse.

I reached the door right as two freshmen came bursting through it, laughing and talking shit about some "hot piece of ass" they'd been vying for. I casually stepped off to the side to let them pass.

"What's up," I said, nodding in greeting.

The three of them glanced guardedly at me, causing me to raise an eyebrow.

"Shit man," freshman fuck number one blurted. "You look like you just got knocked in the face with a tire iron."

I couldn't help but smile, even though it hurt. I could feel the cut on my lip stretch and split open, the cold air stinging against the raw flesh.

"Yeah," I shrugged, rubbing the wound gently with my sleeve. Hell, I'd looked a lot worse than this before. This shit was nothing compared to the damage I'd experienced on the streets of Chicago.

"You get in a fight or something?" freshman fuck number two asked.

Ha! Yeah, with five feet, four inches of psychotropic force laced with one hell of a left hook.

"I guess you could say that," I mused. "Word of advice?"

"What's that?"

"Let that hot little piece of ass kiss you first."

"You're funny man," freshman fuck one laughed, followed heartily by freshman fuck two. The two of them departed down the steps and into the night, no doubt off to cause trouble.

At least they seemed to have a game plan. Hell, I actually envied the sons of bitches.

Less than forty-eight hours ago, I'd known who I was and where my life was ultimately heading. It wasn't all honor and glory and shit, but at least I fucking had an idea of what to expect. If blood ties and birthright had any bearing on which path I'd stumble down, I'd most likely end up in the backroom of Uncle Al's pub, fixing the races or taking inventory of all those who'd been stupid enough to cross the family. Either way, the outcome of my life wouldn't be something to ensure a prime spot in heaven.

But I'd resolved myself to that life, regardless of whether I wanted it or not. I'd accepted it. Hell, I'd seen too much and known too much to escape it anyway. Even if I did decide to run away, it wouldn't be long before I found my past catching up with me. I'd either give it up and die knowing I'd had the courage to turn my back, or remain true to my blood and die knowing I'd stayed loyal up until the end. Neither bode well for me in the long run.

The dorm was quiet for the most part, save for the sounds of shuffling feet in the rooms above and stifled vibrations of music echoing through the heating ducts. I made my way to the third floor and down the hall to my room.

I was only slightly disappointed when I reached my door. As bad as I'd wanted to throw Black's ass through the nearest window, it could fucking wait until morning. I was really too fucking tired to deal with his shit anyway.

Unlocking the door, I pushed it open and flipped on a light. I didn't bother shutting it. I just kicked off my shoes and fell hard on top of my bed, wanting nothing more than to fall into an instant coma.

Yep. Definitely one shitfuck of a night.

I ran my hands over my face, carefully avoiding my bottom lip. I didn't want that shit opening up again. The last thing I needed was Emmett barging in here at midnight, seeing all the blood and wondering who the fuck got a cap in his ass.

Sleep was definitely not going to come easily. I stared at the ceiling for a moment, trying to clear my head by counting the panels.

One, two, three…

That was a really stupid fucking thing to do, Cullen.

Wonder if calling her to apologize would only piss her off more…

Shit…I don't know her cell or room extension anyway.

Four, five…

And how the hell am I going to explain all this to Alice. She's bound to ask questions and it's not like I can lie to her. She can see a bluff in a fucking blizzard…

Six…

God that girl felt good against my skin…warm, soft, and trembling like a cuddly little bunny…

Four…um…wait…shit!

Why the hell was I even trying so hard when I knew it was no fucking use? Rolling over, I buried my face in my pillow and proceeded to curse out my frustrations like a Tourettes patient with ADHD.

My psychotic breakdown was suddenly halted mid-expletive, however, by the muffled and familiar echo of Clair de Lune from my back pocket.

Shit, not now.

I grasped the phone and pulled it out, giving the caller ID a cursory glance. I'd been dreading this call for the past two days, and had really hoped she'd use the sense that God gave her and realize I didn't want to fucking hear from her.

I dreaded hearing her voice--sad, distant, and broken, and too much of a reminder of what I'd felt like on the inside for far too long. She had a knack for making me remember the worst days of my life in such detail that this new distance she'd forced between us was actually somewhat of a relief.

The phone chimed again, and I knew I had no real choice but to answer it. She'd only keep calling back until she'd exhausted my resolve. And, if that proved unsuccessful, she'd definitely make it a point to show up unannounced. And hell, the last thing I needed was for her to come here and shovel out an even larger shit pile than I was already buried under.

Alice had more than likely called her, concerned about my spontaneous disappearance this morning. And if I knew my sister, she'd also told her all about who I'd disappeared with. I'm sure that went over really well. More than that, I'm surprised…and a bit pissed off…that Alice hadn't given me a play by play of their conversation. If she had, at least I'd be prepared for what was coming.

With a heavy breath, I flipped the phone open and raised it reluctantly to my ear.

"Hello?"

"Edward?" she asked in almost a whisper. Of course it was me. She had dialed the number, hadn't she?

Esme was an absolute stranger to me these days. Since my father's conviction, she'd lost every single spark that had made her who she once was. She no longer held the status of a prominent and respected surgeon's wife, but that of a social outcast. She'd become a prison widow overnight, left with the burden two stepchildren to raise in the shadow of our father's ruin.

"Yeah," I responded flatly. She remained silent, although I heard her breathe softly on the other end of the line. I cleared my throat, hoping that she hadn't called just to hear my voice. "Esme, you there?"

"Yes," she said, her voice sounding confused yet rigid. "So you've decided to call me by my first name now?"

She didn't sound angry or upset; just resigned to the fact that everything in our lives had changed, including this one simple element of our relationship.

Alice, of course, had tried her best to keep things as normal as they possibly could be where Esme was concerned. But I'd completely shut down all attempts at normalcy the moment they led my father out of the courtroom in handcuffs, flanked by armed guards that looked at him as if he carried some highly contagious and deadly disease.

"What do you want?" I sighed, wanting to force these images out of my memory although I knew it was pointless to try.

"Alice called this morning," she said, sounding detached.

So I'd been right. My beloved sister had taken it upon herself to bring Esme into the whole ordeal. I silently cursed Alice as I brought a hand to my temple, rubbing it in slow circles with my thumb. The ache in my jaw was now creeping into my skull, signaling the onset of an excruciating headache. I was tired, pissed off, and definitely not in the mood for a fucking interrogation.

"What a surprise," I said caustically. "Had I known you employed her to spy on me, I would have given her a hell of a lot more to talk about. You know…defacing school property, knocking the hell out of a hall monitor…the usual."

"It's only the second day and you're already cutting classes?" Esme said, ignoring my comment. "Edward, I thought we agreed that you would at least try to stay out of trouble."

"Yeah, well I had a bad morning," I groused, hoping she would just let it go and not question me any further about the matter. I didn't want to turn this conversation into anything more uncomfortable than it already was. But then, I should have known better than to expect Esme to turn a blind eye.

"So I heard," she admonished into the phone. "And I'm guessing that you don't want to talk about it?"

"You guessed right," I said. But I knew that my answer wouldn't be good enough. She'd still pry, I'd still get pissed, and we'd end up going at each other like we always did. No amount of distance couldn't change that.

"Look," she said with a sigh of aggrivation. "I realize that attending this school is something new for you. For Alice, too. But you can't just go picking fights with the first person to rub you the wrong way."

"I didn't pick a fucking fight," I argued. Fucking Alice. She could've at least told Esme the whole story. "Look, the guy was being an asshole, so I returned the favor. Is that a crime?"

"Language, Edward," she scolded.

Shit, she sounded almost motherly for a brief second!

"So are my truancy and aggression all you're concerned about, or was there something else you wanted to say?"

"Well," Esme said, her voice softening slightly. "Alice also tells me you've met someone. A girl?"

And the Spanish Fucking Inquisition begins.

"I've met a lot of girls," I said dryly. "A lot of guys, too. It is a coed school, after all."

"Cut the sarcasm, Edward. You know what I mean."

"Oh," I laughed. "You mean Isabella Swan from the sunny state of Florida? Would that be the specific girl you're referring to?"

"Yes, that would be the one," Esme said.

"What about her?"

"Well," she said sharply. "For starters, I'd like to know what possessed you to abscond with a girl you hardly know. One who happens to be the daughter of a United States Senator."

"So?"

"So," she said. "That doesn't strike you as a bit unwise given our current…circumstances?"

"Not really." Shit, I wasn't an idiot. Even I knew what kind of a mess this could cause. But at the time, the thought hadn't entered my mind. And now, I didn't really give a damn.

"Hmm," she hesitated for a moment. "I could have sworn you were much more intelligent than this Edward. Do you have any idea what your father would say--what your uncle would do if he found out about this?"

"Am I not supposed to be broadening my horizons and making new friends? I'm sorry. I thought that was the whole reason for sending us here. Or at least, that seemed to be a deciding factor when you signed the papers."

"It's not that I don't want you to make friends. That goes for your sister as well. But don't you think you're pushing the envelope just a little too far where this particular girl is concerned?"

"Her name is Bella," I sighed. "And no, I don't. Since when is it any of your business who I choose to talk to?"

"It became my business when I married your father and took on the responsibility of becoming your mother," Esme said, incensed. "And whether you choose to accept this anymore or not, it is still my job to make sure you and Alice stay out of trouble."

"I can take care of myself," I seethed. "And Alice, for that matter."

"By knocking the hell out of whomever crosses your path? Or maybe you actually want to get arrested and thrown in prison. Will it make you feel more like a man if you did? Do you think it'll earn you respect? Edward, I swear. You're just like your…"

"Don't even fucking say it, Esme. I'll fucking hang up right now."

"No!" she said hastily, taking a deep breath. "Please, don't. I just…What I meant to say is that you are so much better than the rest of them, Edward. You and your sister have so much going for you, and I just don't want to see you fall into the same…"

"It's none of your business what I do with my life," I yelled. "If I want to fucking run, I'll run. If I want to stick around and work for him, then I'll do it. Just because you've played the mommy role all these years doesn't give you the right to choose my lot in life."

"No," she agreed calmly. "It doesn't. But I'd like to think that I still have some influence. Alice still lets me shell out advice every now and then. I just hoped…"

"Well, Alice needs a mother," I stated firmly.

"And you don't?" she asked, an air of concern in her voice. "Your father may be…gone. But I'm still here. You aren't an orphan, Edward."

"Yeah, well I might as well be," I grumbled under my breath.

A thick silence settled between us, and I knew that I'd struck a nerve with Esme. But I didn't really care. She'd already done too much damage, and I wasn't about to let her mindfuck me like she had my father. She'd betrayed us. For that, I knew I could never forgive her. And, regardless of her denial, deep down she knew it as well.

"Anyway," Esme finally relented. "I didn't call to argue. I wanted to ask you a favor."

And here it comes…

There was only one favor Esme would ask of me, and I didn't want to hear it. She'd requested it over a dozen times, and my answer never changed. It was still too soon. It would always be too soon. The pain was still too raw.

"Edward…" she hesitated, trying to soften her tone as much as she was capable of at this point. "I know that you're having a hard time with…everything. And I know it's a lot to ask, but…"

"I'm not calling him, Esme," I growled. "We've been over this a thousand times."

"He misses you," she sighed with a trembling breath. Another sudden burst of emotion was threatening to emerge within her, and I could feel the pressure in my temples increasing tenfold. I couldn't deal with this. Not tonight.

"Esme," I sighed heavily. "I have to go."

"If you could only call for five minutes. Just so he could hear your voice. Even if he could just hear you breathe on the other end of the line, I know it would lift his spirits. You have no idea what it's been like for him in that place. He's become so detached, Edward. He's not himself anymore, and I'm really starting to think he's giving up hope that…"

"I…DON'T…CARE!" I yelled, feeling my throat constrict as my anger increased. "I don't give a damn if it would make him feel better. I've been feeling like shit since he landed himself in this mess. And don't even get me started on what it's done to Alice."

I could hear her muffled sobs on the other end of the line, and my breath hitched. But I wasn't about to let her tears get to me. I couldn't. If I did, I knew I wouldn't be able to control my temper and I'd end up in the back of a Forks patrol car staring down the barrel of a felony charge.

Esme cleared her throat, making an effort to compose herself, and I fought to maintain my own. My eyes stung and I felt as if I couldn't breathe, but I'd be damned if I would shed a fucking tear for either of them.

"I know you kids have gone through hell. I do." Esme sniffled. A twist of urgency broke through her voice in knowing that if I hung up, I most likely wouldn't answer her call again. "But please do this. If not for him, then…Please? For me?"

"For you?!? You want me to just forget everything and call that sick son of a bitch so that you can feel better about your efforts? That's fresh, Esme. Really fucking motherly of you."

"Don't you dare," she admonished. "Your father is a brilliant and loving man. A good man. You have no right to attack his character that way. He's done everything for you and your sister, and you've just…" She broke off mid-sentence, and I could swear I heard another muffled sob before she pressed the mute button.

I waited for another drawn out moment, trying hard to control my temper. If I let my emotions get too far out of hand, I was bound to throw my fist through the wall.

Think of anything else. Think of Alice. Think of Bella.

I heard commotion in the hall outside my door and quickly got up from the bed. I slammed it hard, knocking a framed photo of Emmett's family off the wall in the process. I quickly scooped it up, wanting nothing more than to send it crashing through the damn window.

Instead, I raised it level to my eyes and closely examined the three smiling faces beneath the newly shattered glass. Emmett stood in the middle, hugging who I assumed were Mr. and Mrs. Denali. The three of them wore matching red Hawaiian shirts. They all looked healthy and extremely tan..

A happy family.

At least one exists in this fucked up world.

Esme let go of the mute button, and I heard what remained of her emotional breakdown. Her tears, of course, were for Carlisle. They were always for Carlisle.

Only where he's concerned. It's always about HIM. To hell with the rest of us.

"Alice calls him everyday," she continued flatly. "Has she told you that? Even though it hurts her to do so, she still tries to maintain some kind of relationship with him. You, on the other hand, haven't said two words to him since the trial."

"Do you fucking blame me? He ruined our fucking lives, Esme!"

"You can't just condemn him like this," she sighed, sounding tired. "He's been through enough, and it's eventually going to kill him. Is that what you want on your conscience?"

"He brought it upon himself," I said coldly. I could feel my blood burning through my veins. My head throbbed, and I knew that if I continued with this line of conversation I would most definitely lose it. I couldn't handle this anymore. It was just too much. I had to end this. Now.

"Edward, please…" Esme said in a last ditch attempt to reason with me. "Just one phone call. That's all I'm asking. Just so he knows you still love him, because I know you do."

No.

"I have to go," I said, quickly flipping the phone closed.

FUCK!

I threw the phone at the wall, then fell back hard on the bed. I couldn't believe her audacity. After everything, she had some fucking nerve starting this shit again. I'd made it perfectly clear the night before we'd left. I was done. I didn't want to hear from her, and I definitely wouldn't reach out to my son-of-a-bitch father.

He didn't fucking deserve my forgiveness.

Neither of them did.

I lay there, staring up at the ceiling for what seemed like hours. Too many things were jumbled inside my head, and I'd given up trying to untangle them. It wouldn't do any good. I knew that there would be no sudden epiphany that could miraculously change anything, and I couldn't change the past.

And even if I did allow my resolve to break and called my father, what would I actually achieve in doing so? Hearing his voice would only make the situation that much more real. It would weaken me even more, and I couldn't allow that. I needed to be strong. I needed to fight.

For Alice.

For myself.

For my own fucking sanity.

I turned my head to the side, eying my phone on the floor under the chair where it had landed amazingly unbroken.

No.

Keep your fucking hands off that damn phone.

Let it go.

I looked back up at the ceiling, closing my eyes and trying to envision anything that might allow me to escape the confines of this hell I'd been thrown into.

He brought it upon himself.

He didn't care.

He got sucked in and betrayed his family.

He betrayed Esme.

He betrayed Alice.

He betrayed me.

The same thoughts and words continued to echo inside my head for hours. I hadn't even had an opportunity to purge myself of them before Emmett came bursting through the door, shit eating grin and all.

Must be fucking nice to not have a care in the world.

I glanced over at him and raised my hand slightly in greeting. Judging from his expression, he'd obviously had a lovely time with Rosalie--doing their taxes, rearranging her library, or whatever they called fucking these days.

Hell, at least someone had a good night.

"Hey man," he said, kicking off his shoes. "Looks like you've had a nice evening."

I nodded, looking away. He took a few steps toward the dresser, then let out a yell that could have awakened the dead.

"OWW! SHIT!! What…the…fuck?" he yelled, reaching down and picking a large sliver of glass out of his foot. He looked at it, momentarily puzzled until his eyes found the shattered remains of his family photo on the edge of my bed.

"Shit," I muttered. I sat up, grabbed the mangled frame, and handed it to Emmett. "I kind of slammed the door and it fell off the wall. Sorry."

He made his way to his side of the cramped quarters, threw the broken remnants of his family photo on the nightstand, and plopped down on the bed with a thump.

"Small potatoes," he said, a ridiculous, all-knowing smile spreading across his face.

And I knew exactly what was coming. I should have known that Rose couldn't keep a fucking secret from her true love.

I took a deep breath to center myself, preparing for the onslaught of questions I was certain were about to shoot out of his mouth like the world's worse case of verbal diarrhea, ever.

"So…" he trailed off, still grinning from ear to ear. I really didn't feel like dealing with it right now, so I decided to just get the whole embarrassing ordeal over with.

"Look man, I already know what you're going to say. So just cut the subtle bullshit. Yes, Bella and I had a bit of a misunderstanding. Yes, I kissed her. And fuck yes, she decked me. And no, I have no fucking idea what the hell I was thinking." I took a deep, cleansing breath. "That about cover it?"

He remained silent for a minute, tapping his index finger to his chin and letting my whole spiel sink in. He probably thought I was the biggest loser in the history of mankind, and more than likely would tell me this any moment. Shit, I wouldn't blame him because I was thinking the same damn thing.

Emmett sprawled out on his bed, crossing his ankles and bringing his hands up behind his head. With a loud sigh, he lounged back, looked up at the ceiling, and shook his head.

"Hey man, I know what you're going through," he said sympathetically. "Women are the most terrifying, confusing, fucked up and seriously psychotic species on the planet. You think dating Rosie is a walk in the fucking park?" he chuckled. "I mean, I love her. But between you and me, she's a fucking nightmare. And don't even get me started about her time of the month."

I nodded in understanding. But shit. If I had to put up with Rosalie Hale's melodramatic bullshit for five minutes, I'd jump off a fucking cliff.

"But I already told you," he continued. "Bella's got some seriously fucked up issues. If you want her, you're going to have to…"

"Wait a minute," I blurted out. "Who the fuck said I wanted her?"

I mean, yeah… I was drawn to Bella. I couldn't deny that fact. And I also couldn't deny that, at the time, kissing her just felt… right. But I still wasn't sure if I wanted Emmett in on this little fact, nor did I know if I could trust him not to run off and tell Rosalie the minute I confessed it.

I might as well stick my dick in a blender and hit puree, for Christ's sake.

Shit, look where kissing Bella got me. I could only imagine the beat down I would've suffered if I'd tried asking her out. Clearly, the streets of Chicago were fucking Disneyland compared to this girl.

But the sad thing was that it only made me want her more.

"Relax, man," Emmett said with a grin. "I'm trying to tell you that I understand. I mean, fuck. I get it. It took Rosie forever to agree to just go out with me on a date, for fuck's sake. And even then, I got a verbal lashing about all the reasons why it wouldn't work."

"I can imagine," I sighed. I had to hand it to Emmett. He was one brave fucker.

"But the key to winning Bella is a tad more… complicated."

"Complicated." I repeated. Why did everything always have to be so fucking complicated? Why couldn't anything be fucking easy for once in my life?

To hell with it. I figured that I might as well listen to the guy. He'd known Bella a hell of a lot longer than I had, and it couldn't hurt to get a little advice.

Could it?

"Fuck yes!" Emmett yelled. "It's way more complicated than just winin' and dinin', roamin' in the gloamin', and all that other romantic bullshit. If you really want her, you're going to have to go about this a different way. And she's no Jessica Stanley, I can tell you that much."

"Thank god for that," I chuckled. But I really didn't want to elaborate on the torture I'd gone through at dinner. Fortunately, he was on a roll and didn't ask.

"Bella is…" Emmett thought for a moment. "Well, she's stubborn as fuck and a little rough around the edges. But underneath it all--if she lets you see it--she's one hell of a girl. She's got a heart of gold, an ass that won't quit, and the brain of fucking Einstein."

"And one hell of a right hook," I reminded him.

"Yeah, well," he laughed. "You should have seen what she did to Jacob. Shit, the guy couldn't walk for a week. And had to sit on one of those stupid inflatable donuts until fairly recently. So count yourself lucky."

Damn. I really need to ask Bella about that someday. If she'll fucking ever talk to me again, that is.

"Ok, so then what am I supposed to do?"

"The only thing you really can do, man. Be consistent and not give up on her. Talk to her like she's a fucking person, and not a piece of meat. And don't be afraid to fight her on shit, because honestly I think she gets off on it. She'll try like hell to push you away. That's just the way she is. But in the long run, if you stick around, she'll come around."

"I don't think it'll ever get to that point," I sighed. "I mean, she already fucking hit me. Hard."

"Yeah, well…do you really blame her? You fucking attacked her, bro."

"I didn't fucking attack her!"

What the hell had Rosalie told him?

"In her mind, you did," Emmett shrugged. "Again, she's a complicated piece of work. You can't just expect her to fall head over heels in love with you in one day. And you definitely can't fucking kiss her out of the blue. That's a one-way ticket to the ER."

"Well, I did. And now she basically fucking despises me," I muttered sullenly.

I still couldn't believe I was bearing my fucking soul to Emmett. I knew I sounded like such a pansy ass, but I couldn't help it. In the short time I'd known Bella, she'd practically turned me into a Barry Manilow-listening, chick flick-watching, talk-about-your-feelings kind of pussy.

I was so screwed.

"No she doesn't," Emmett said very sure of himself.

"No?" I chuckled sarcastically, absently rubbing my jaw. "Could've fooled me."

"She definitely does not hate you. Actually, Bella's got it pretty fucking bad for you. I know that for a fact."

Huh?

"And how, might I ask, would you know that?" I asked.

"Easy," he shrugged indifferently. "I see the signs."

"The signs…" Some cheesy, old school Ace of Base ballad started ringing through my mind.

"Dude, the signs," he emphasized. "And they're so fucking obvious that she might as well nail a sign to her ass that says 'Property of Edward Cullen.' I see the way she looks at you when she thinks nobody's watching. And trust me, she would have never in a million years let you in that precious car of hers the other day unless she wasn't even the slightest bit attracted to you. Bella doesn't waste her time with anyone she doesn't want to be with, whether Stanley made her or not."

"So you know about all that, huh?" I said.

"Hey, Rosalie might be all high-maintenance and a major bitch sometimes, but deep down she trusts me. She knows I'll take whatever she tells me to the fucking grave, and only tell who needs to be told."

"That's good to know," I smirked. I definitely wouldn't be pouring my heart out to Rose again anytime soon.

We sat there in a companionable silence for a few minutes, and my mind started to wander. All I could seem to think about was her. I knew that this would be difficult, but I kind of figured that it would be worth it in the end. I was just breaking the surface of who Bella Swan really was, and I'd never seen more of her than I had that day at La Push. She'd started to trust me, but then she reigned it in the minute she thought I was fucking her over. I had to get this girl to trust me without any hesitation, come hell or high water.

But it wouldn't be easy. I had to be really fucking careful not to screw this up. I had to show her that I would never hurt her. The rest of my life may be completely fucked, but that was one thing she could count on. I just had to make her see it.

Emmett shot straight up in his bed, pulling me out of my train of thought. He swung his heavy legs over the side and faced me, looking dead serious. I glanced at him questioningly.

"You know, I think you and Bella would be good for each other," he confided. "But…"

But…there's always a but…

I raised an eyebrow, and his expression became stern.

"Don't fucking hurt her," he said, pointing his finger in my face. "She's been through a lot. And if you hurt her, I swear man…" He punched his right fist into the palm of his left hand.

"I won't. Believe me, I would never do anything to intentionally hurt her. You can take that to the bank." I chose my next words carefully. "Look, like her Emm. God fucking help me, I like her," I laughed.

Damn, as cheesy as it sounded, it actually felt kind of good to say it out loud.

"Good," he breathed, his smile returning. "So, when do we start?"

"Start what, exactly?"

"Operation Make-Bella-Fall-Head-Over-Heels, of course," he laughed.

"That sounds really gay, Emmett," I joked. "Next thing you'll tell me is that you're joining Rosalie for one of her spa weekends."

"Shut the fuck up, Cullen," he protested, looking a tad embarrassed and trying to hide his hands under his shirt. "You just wait, dude. Bella will have you getting mani-pedis in fucking no time."

I nodded my head, trying to stifle a laugh. I seriously doubted that Bella was the mani-pedi type, but of course the girl was full of surprises. And as fucking whipped as I already was, I could totally see me doing anything she asked me to do…including something as emasculating as a fucking pedicure.

Yes sir, Cullen. You are fucked like a ten dollar whore on payday.

"Well, I'm going to sleep," Emmett yawned, then laid down. "We've got a big day tomorrow, right?"

I nodded in agreement and I turned off the lamp beside my bed.

"Hey?"

"Yeah man?" Emmett mumbled tiredly into his pillow.

"Thanks. I appreciate it. Everything. You're alright."

"Now who sounds fucking gay?" he retorted, yanking a pillow out from under his head and throwing it hard at me. "Now you'll be expecting me to tuck you in and shit."

I laughed. Yeah, it did sound pretty pansy ass. But fuck it. It had to be said.

"Night, man," he said.

"Night."

As I drifted off to sleep, I continued to think about Bella. Her smile. Her tears. Her killer right hook. The girl now plagued my every thought, but it didn't bother me. I'd rather spend an eternity obsessing about her rather than five minutes of the shit I'd been dealing with before Emmett walked in.

And he was right; tomorrow was the start of something. I intended to do everything I possibly could to prove to Bella Swan that I was worthy of her company. And all the shit that was happening in my fucked up life--my family, my father's conviction, the sentence I was carrying out at Marcus Prep, and my intense desire to rip Jacob Black's head off--none of it mattered. The only thing that mattered now was that Bella let me in that window.

There was only one problem.

Even with Emmett's advice, I still had no fucking idea how I was going to do it.

A/N: Reviews are better than obsessing for an eternity over Edward!! Oh, who am I kidding...but reviews are really nice!!