Apologies, huge apologies. Fuggin' life and my 29yrold disorder (the kind where you're TERRIFIED of the big three oh). I cried. I brooded. I got a new laptop to cure it (don't tell anyone I actually bought the 'puter JUST to write FF in bed). This chap is how I've been feeling. But I'm better now after writing it! :-D I finally found my inspiration in the shower (there, an image of me naked ;) so the next chaps will come quicker.

ATTENTION: My gal, jayisuncouth's Red Corn Poppy, was nominated at Vampawards: twificpics . com / vampawards / ? page_id=198. A oneshot about the cullens playing with their food in EsmePOV. Really creepy an amazing. She will write more if you read and like! Go read!

I don't own Twilight. I just own a Mini and my FF reading device—iPhone.

|:::::[-]:::i):::| — Whip that nutter fugger wit it!

—•—•—•

Sound: How to destroy Angels – A drowning

—•—•

Chapter 10 – Truth

Sticky eyelids. I try. One hundred, seventy eight heart beats later. I still try to blink them free.

I float. Numb in all limbs. A weightless numb.

One unsticks. I blink that one. The ceiling is dark. The room is dark. Water swivels around me. A pool. Flickering light forms shadows above. Steam rises. My lips unseal. Cold air seeps through, making teeth alive.

Two hundred, thirty three heart beats later. I blink two lids free.

Now for my fingers... and then toes.

I don't know where I am, but I know what happened. I've been dreaming about it. Flashing images of two faces. One, exasperated with worry. The other...angry.

They saved me. Again. But in the rarest of ways. I felt the stab of the endless needle to my heart. I felt it. Through and through. It isn't often you feel your heart being stabbed... literally. It's crashing. Horrifying. Symbolic and physical. I understood and felt the meaning.

Charlie. They will find him next. My life. They have taken it away.

I couldn't scream. If I had filled lungs I would've. But I watched Edward shouting an order to Alice. The icy blue eyes left behind in a maze of corridors burned into my vision till I saw nothing. I was blinded. I blacked out. My heart stopped. The poison in his bullets did more damage than one hit. It did much more. Before everything went black, I was blinded by anger—until Edward's order to Alice appeared in a form of a sharp torment. He held down my convulsing body. Then I felt it.

Through and through.

My lungs filled. I sat up with a heave and filled them. They watched. My wounded arm lied lifeless at my side. It was forgotten. Its pain was nothing compared to what that felt like.

"Two seconds," announced Alice. She glanced at her watch briefly. Edward's jaw tightened. "Two more seconds and she would've died." She looks at Edward. "Why is it that my patient is hurt every time you bring her in?" She needed answers from him. Carlisle pressed a null button on his desk. She was never called.

I slumped down to my back as he growled at her. He was furious. But not at her. At me. At Carlisle. It was a joke to him. He knew it was me outside his door. He fired anyway. He wanted to scare me away. He didn't want to give me answers.

I watched Edward's retrieving back after he mentioned the doctor's name. Only his name and she knew. She understood. I blacked out. But not before feeling a creeping fear of the inevitable. The consequence. The punishment. He really will hurt me. I felt it.

My toes. I only feel this now. I lost count of heart beats. But it's alright, I don't start over. It will continue beating. I need it to continue. The pulsing is relief to my submerged ears. I float in a pool of worry and regret. Worry of what will come. Regret of, not what i did but what I failed to do. I needed answers and have nothing but a hole in my arm and a punctured heart.

My other arm moves. My index finds a solid surface over the water. I pierce through it. It cracks. All fingers push through a shell over the surface of the pool. Water sealed beneath where I float. I rub a cracked piece on my index and thumb. It's like a film of dried soap. I sit up. The shell cracks away from my cheeks, my arms, my torso. I push through. My slick soaked hair trails behind me. My whole body was submerged, leaving my nose, mouth and eyes above surface. My brows knit together at the oddness. It feels foreign. But what isn't in this place?

In nothing but beige rubber garments, I turn either way and see nothing. Nothing but an empty high ceiling black room, lit by flickering candles around me. They melt down to the floor in pillars of different sizes. The walls are of cement and full of grime. They use to be white. Old smoke stained sconces light a dim glow over the room. Pipes run up walls and around the ceiling until they disappear. A basement.

I hold my breath for any sounds. I hear nothing but moving water in another bigger pool close by. The water is dark, scary. I push thoughts of terrorizing unknowns submerging. Far away a leak from a pipe drips in echoes through the eerie space.

Nothing.

My eye catches a towel behind me. I clutch the soft cotton with rough wrinkled fingers. When I drag it close a piece of paper flutters over the floor and falls into the pool. The ink smears. The fibers grow dark as it soaks. It floats. The black script letters read, "Stay."

I look around again. The strong strokes to the letters are as thick as the tension it instantly created in the room. Every drip, clank and flickering candle becomes an intruder, a fidget...paranoia. Hours it seems. I sit in the pool. I wait.

I feel for my wounded arm. No bandage. I examine it with amazement. The dull pain deep inside is as faint as a bruise. My fingers trace the perfect circular pierced skin. It's sealed. A single scar lingers as proof that this wasn't my brightest plan. I roll my arm around, testing. Healed. A humourless chuckled echoes through the room. Incredible. My palm cuts through the water slowly in thought.

The water.

Even my skin is firmer. My hair seems thicker. Remembering, I reach my ankle, bending my knee. His bruise is gone. My fingers find my neck. A thin faint line—all in the past. I can't hold back a grin. My mind toys with possibilities of fountain of youth or healing water. Impossible.

Hours. It seems like hours. Stay. I sigh.

I lay my head over the edge on the towel with relaxed elbows. I watch the fire in tear drop shapes flicker. The wax runs down the pillars to the cement rough floor in organic bubbles. I poke some. I play with fire with two fingers, feeling the spark of heat before I pull away. It goes out with a hiss. Smoke floats up to the ceiling.

Charlie. I don't want to believe Edward found him as he was ordered. I don't want to believe it's too late. But I don't know how long I've been here. "Stay" crumbles in my anxious fist. Drips of absorbed water trickles down my knuckles from the fibers. If I don't do what the paper says... what will happen? A hole between my eyes? A whole in my chest?

Stay...stay...stay.

I can't...because of Charlie.

I lift myself out of the hole in the ground. No stair or ledge to be found to pull myself up. I wouldn't have made it with one good arm. The towel is soft around my shoulders. I pass the pillars of candles and head towards an exit, a path. It's dark and uninviting.

I peak beyond a corner. Double doors. I reach it without hesitating and reach for the knob. My fingers meet in a fist. I breathe sharply. Not again. I groan. The knob is invisible. Another knobless door. I find the seams and again...nothing. With my hands against it I dip my head low with a frustrated growl. I still and hear nothing beyond it. I press my ear to it and nothing.

I'm tired of these games. I'm tired. I bang the wood with angry fists, "Get me out!" Bang. Bang. Bang. "You stay away from my father! Stay away!" I'm kicking. I'm shoving. I'm pushing. "Get me out!"

Nothing. I fight. And fight.

My fist stops mid air. A latch unlocks. Small. Almost inaudible. A dim light seeps through a keyhole. I look down and it brightens my towel. My knees shake as I kneel slowly. My hands trail over the lacquered wood. The beam is eye level now. I blink and freeze.

The silence is eerie. I sit of my heels unmoving at first. I want to call out but the silence mutes me. I lean. My lashes feathers against the wood at my proximity. The basement walls continue down a dark dingy hallway on the other side of the door. It's empty. My heart beats loudly against my ears. If I focus I can count again. But I can't now. Now I see an empty hallway, freedom, yet someone is there. Taunting me. The fine hairs of my arms rise on attention. I hold my breath and lean in closer.

An eye.

I hold back a strangled sound from my throat. I try not to scream. I fall back. It follows me.

It appeared, covering the bright light coming through the opening. One eye. As close as mine.

I scramble to my knees again and lean back in. It watches me and doesn't blink. My jaw tightens. My lips dry. The pulse in my throat threatens to close it. I open my mouth to say something but can't speak.

"Who..." I dare to try. The person doesn't speak. "I need... get me Alice." My only hope.

He snickers. His blue eye grows darker. I grow angry.

"Let me outttt!" I bang a fist. He just continues laughing.

His eye is gone and the brightness comes. "So it's true, you can't follow directions." I hear him through the door. "His pet is a fierce one."

I'm panting. "I'm no pet, you mongrel! Get me the fuck out!"

"Oh, but you are. He'd be angry if you were hurt again." Humor seeps out of his words.

I lean in. He's out of sight. But I can feel his vibrating words on the right side of the door. "Carlisle?" I go with it.

"Uh, uh," he says pausing. I can smell smoke. I recognize the dense scent. I close my eyes for a moment. My cheek against the surface. I open one eye to peer. A perfect ring of smoke pushes through. "loosen up..." he offers with a single chuckle. I swat it away. "By the way, the size of your balls with that stunt..." he whistles, "Massive. Bravo."

The keyhole is silent. I slump to the ground. He's not going to let me out.

"Masen, that's who," he slurs, "Sick bastard hovers and owns you like his puppy. Don't know why he just didn't get rid of you." Smoke finds its way in. I don't swat it away. It's close. My nostrils flare.

"Now you're hovering..." I snap. He laughs.

"Had to see what the big deal was. His shiny new toy for a month now. Never left the lab. The poor, weak civilian needing a savior. Wah, wah, wahhh," he rasps.

"Where is he?" I swallow.

"Fucking mission became his obsession. Did you know he followed you for months? Fucking months." His laugh is muffled with smoke. He ignores me. "He'd leave and we wouldn't hear from him for days. He'd crawl back with battle wounds. Huh," he pauses. I'm silent. "And all the while you were following him. You two, running around in circles." My brow furrows in confusion. "Fucking Idiots," he laughs, yet again.

"Circles?"

"You really don't know do you?" he asks after a moment. He sounds genuinely curious.

"Know...what?"

He cackles like he knows a secret, "Absolutely nothing." I sigh.

"Emmett, right?" I know who he is now. His blue eyes, obnoxious laugh. "Where is he, Emmett?"

"Hm," he pauses to take a puff, "Probably putting a bullet down your old man's throat. Fuck if I know." I can hear him shrug. My heart finds its way to my throat again.

"Lie."

"Maybe, maybe not." He's smiling.

"If he touches him...!" my fist finds wood again.

"You'd, what? steal his knife?" he laughs, "That went well. Though, it would be a riot to watch again... yeah, do that...I dare you." My teeth grinding holds back a response. "Best day of my life," he continues. "Did you know him and that knife go way back when he was a little shit thug? I think it used to be his father's. Doesn't let anyone touch it. And then you come along..." he goes out of breath from a heaving, coughing chuckle. "I like you, Swan." I don't respond.

"Oh, c'mon on. It's not like your pops doesn't deserve it," he says after my silence.

"Fuck you! You...fuck you!" I'm on my knees again, banging, "Let me out!" He's laughing. It's far away. His steps are heavy.

"I was ordered to check on you. It was nice chatting with you, Swan." He's leaving.

"GET ME OUT!"

"Food's by the corner wall if you want some grub." I look through the hole and I see him now. Silk black shirt over muscular chest, slacks and polished shoes. The ring on his pinky reflects light. He extinguishes the bud on his tongue. It hisses. He drops it to the floor.

"Please." I'm begging. I hate it.

"Alice's orders—you're not done yet. Just pretend it's a spa, sweetheart." His laugh echoes behind the closing door.

He's gone. I slump back to the floor seething. Minutes pass... hours. I don't know. I watch the hallway. A mouse crawls far away, soundly. My only companion. I process what he's said. I move. My muscles prickle but I find the food.

Why would Charlie ever deserve it? Why would anybody? Edward hovered. Yet, Edward hates me. And now he went after Charlie. And now I hate him. Alice said they were keeping me safe. Safe. He continues to pull me out of death, yet he goes to find Charlie. I feel an odd betrayal. I hate him. I feel useless and I can't do anything.

My arm begins to hurt after I eat. The pool was probably working. I crawl back. Minutes pass...hours.

Stay. As if i had a choice.

—•—•

"Bella." Alice.

I jump up. I grab the towel and run to the door. "Alice."

I don't know how they open the door. I never see. Relief flows through me. Like finally seeking comfort in an endless dream. Like Charlie, picking me up from school when I got sick. You're chin trembles involuntarily...because you're finally ok. I've been locked here all night.

"Come," she calls. She envelops me in a blanket. She's impeccable, as usual. Her white coat still wrapped around expensive clothing. "How do you feel? Your arm should be well now." She looks in my eyes. I nod. But the desperation in my face doesn't go unnoticed. She looks away and pulls me through the hallway.

"Alice, Charlie." She doesn't respond. "He's going to find him. He'll kill him..."

She pulls and she ignores me.

"Alice!" I force her to stop. She looks ahead but I see her face. Her jaw tightens. She holds back an angry huff. "You swore you'd help! You said I'd be safe!"

Her blazing eyes cut to mine. "If you dare pull something like that again, I will be sure to leave you. Do you understand, Bella?" Her face is stern. She's not talking about Charlie.

"I didn't say it lightly when I said Dr. Cullen would do anything...anything his crazed mind would want. You've jeopardize all our lives! If I were you, I'd keep quiet and do as I say. Now do as I say!" I'm stunned quiet. She pulls me by my arm. Her gentleness has disappeared. I don't know her.

"What..." I pull away. I don't see her swift move before it comes. Her hand cups my chin hard. Her face an inch away. I'm pinned to the wall by her elbow.

"Listen to me, and listen to me closely. There is nothing you can do, there is nothing I can do. I am following orders and you will follow mine. You don't know what you're asking. You don't know. But you're right about one thing, Bella, I said I'd keep you safe. I didn't say anyone else." She pauses to take a breath, her hold loosens. "Just...have faith. That's all I ask." Her eyes frighten me. They're real and they don't lie. I can't respond.

We quickly find a closed door and she pulls me in. It's next to the door we left. "Your room," she says. It's crowded. A bed sits in a dusty space surrounded by book shelves. A desk in a corner. A full length mirror with black stains stands lopsided. The wood is old and detailed, like an old library. The air is filled with the smell of old books. "It's either this, or an empty room. At least you'll have things to occupy your mind," she says about the dust-filled leather bonds. "The other room was Edward's. Now you have your own."

Edward's. I slept in a killer's bed. Shake away my heavy head ...and I hate him.

I turn to watch her walk around, opening a small door by a shelf. A closet. She pulls out clothes and drops them on the bed. "You're not allowed to leave this floor. You'd have more privileges if you hadn't been so... distrusting. You'll be escorted if you need to be at the lab.

"If your wounds hurt, the pools are assessable. Use the larger pool for minor pains. The narrow pools are for fatal wounds, therefore, has a more concentrated formula. No fabrics, they'll disintegrate." She's become mechanical. I stand in the middle of the room watching her gaze on everything but me.

"Alice."

"As a warning, so you won't grow weary, we won't fetch you until tomorrow. You have a meeting with Dr. Cullen later in the week. A proper appointment." She looks at me when she says this and walks towards the hallway door.

"Alice, please," I plead. I walk after her and she's fast.

She pauses. He head is down. Her back is facing me and she's holding a heavy door open. "It's for your own good," and she walks out. I run after her. The cement floor cold against my bare feet. It's too late.

"Just promise me they won't hurt him! Promise me!" And she's gone. Bolts lock on the other side.

I stare at the doors. They turn blurry.

Now I stay. I never had a choice.

One day becomes two. No one comes. A bang on the double doors alerts my meals. I have to get to it before the rodents do. I leave them a crumb or two. My only companions.

I read and roam my room. Old things. Antiques. They're full of dust and webs.

Two days become three. I lie in bed watching the sun reflect off crystal pieces of an old chandelier. They hang by a narrow window I can't fit through (of course, I've tried many times, many different ways). I hung them there when I found them in a cupboard. I found a lot of things. Useless things. Things that can't help me pick locks or open windows.

Hamlet is in the midst of all the encyclopedias and medical volumes. I read of his anguish. It gives me strength. I read of his revenge. It gives me strength. I understood why he went through great measures, but I never related. I can. I do now. I would do what he did... in a heartbeat. I understand now and it gives me strength.

I wait and I wait. Alice doesn't come. My nerves are twisting. A meeting with Cullen. My mind wanders to what might be. What I will do. What I would scream and sayl. I make up scenarios. I find a gun. I break out. Charlie is free. I find him and I channel Hamlet. Revenge.

Not likely. Hours turns it into impossibility.

Like I used to do well, my job, I run through questions. Lots of questions. I'm overwhelmed. I'm angry. I fall asleep on Hamlet.

Fourth day. The strength turns into weariness. The book is halfway, lying open on the floor. Alice was right. I did grow weary. And she lied. My skin crawls and I want to climb the walls. I pace till my feet blister.

When the doors bang, I run. I yell. Emmett laughs. His smoke seeps through. I curse and bang until my hands are bruised. My legs are long gone. They're over used from kicking yesterday, and today—at breakfast and lunch. He leaves without a word.

I'm defeated and I crawl back to the dark pool. Steam rises and I watch. My toe nails bleed. My soles stained black. My skin is blue and violet. My fingers dirty. They ache. But I'm numb.

Fifth day. I find paper and an ink bottle. I write with an old felt tip pen. It takes me three tries until the nib doesn't blot the page. I write and write about all that has happened. So I'll remember. So that someone would believe me. My days at the office seem years ago. I miss it. Angela and Mike. I daydream for hours. Hours of what could've been. If they're still looking for me. If they worry or care. If they're alive.

Lunch. I twist my wrist. Another punch to the door. Emmett pauses and I scream for him. He sighs. He walks away. I lie by the door for hours. Watching nothing. Watching sunlight turn to evening. Spent. The food is spoiled. My companions nibble and they deserve it. They've dealt with my whining and kicking and screaming.

And Alice lied.

After I slip-on the two pieces of rubber garments, I drag myself to the pool. It's night time. I can tell from the glow of the moon coming through my window. I close my eyes. I drift as I lean on a wall. I'm not afraid of the water anymore. It's dark and I can't see my legs or toes. It took me hours to convince myself nothing lives in it at first. It's nothing now. The water doesn't move. Candles flicker over the slight waves where they swivel. I've kept them burning. I ignite the distinguished ones with a twig I found. Their heat warms the cold cement walls. My skin prickles. I close my eyes and I let go.

Minutes pass... hours.

A blurry dream. Charlie is free. I'm sixteen. A boy knocks the door and I'm off to a dance. Charlie scowls. Charlie is being overprotective. I laugh because we've known him. Our dads are family friends. The boy is wide eyed and nervous. I hold his hand.

I look down. My other hand is covered with Charlie's. Mace. I roll my eyes but smile. He just cares. He loves me and he cares. I reach on my toes and kiss his cheek. His mustache twitches. He whispers. His face is gentle. I know what he said. It repeats and repeats in my head. You're beautiful, just like your mother...you look just like your mother. My eyes go blurry.

I walk out. The boy at my side. I walk down the steps. I look up at his face. But it's too late, he doesn't catch me. Everything slows and I know what's coming. My muscles tense. An eerie feeling. I'm falling and falling and...

Splash.

I start awake. My eyes snap open. The water moved.

It bubbles and whirls and it moved. A towel appeared at the far side of the pool—the deep end. My heart leaps in a nano second. I look for the only stairs made to climb out the pool. It's too far.

The water moves and moves. A wave points towards me. I turn to reach for the stairs. It's too late.

Hands. I freeze.

My breath hitches. All of my blood drains from my head. My palms grip the ledge behind me ready to climb out, but it's no use. Hands find my ankles...and they move. Up over my calves. Up behind my knees. I buckle. My thighs strain to stay up on my toes. Hands move over them. I begin to kick away and bend my knee to climb, but hands hold my waist.

My widened eyes watch as dark hair emerges from the water. Up and over the waves reveals a face. His lashes pile against his cheeks. His nose and a red gash. He emerges and water trails down his lips and stiff jaw. Around his shoulders and arms.

He towers over me. He's close and his bare chest and ink look darker with the flickering glow. I forget. I forget how alive it looks wrapped around his skin. His hold on my waist tightens and his eyes peer into my wide orbs.

Edward is still angry.

I let out a hitched breath from a strangled swallow.

He lets go of my left and runs soaked, red gashed knuckled fingers, through his wet hair. My hip flinches at the touch of his thigh. I press my bottom to the cool wall as far away as I can. My heels fight to not slip under water. Dark waves rise to his hipbone. He doesn't say a word as his eyes close. Dark circles frame them. He slouches deeper and opens them. He lets go.

I look to the right. The stairs are too far. My conscience replays in a flash a scene in my mind. The one I've created and rehearsed all week—of how I'd hit him, of how I'd use the strength I found in Hamlet. A flash—but then it's gone. I look at his hands grip the the ledge by my ribs. I'm trapped. I didn't plan for this.

"You're in my pool." His voice travels over the steam rising around us. the room seems smaller now. My throat bobs. He dips his head to one side and glares. "Get out." I flinch. He hisses between his teeth.

Fucking plan. Fucking Hamlet. Fucking strength. They betray me and I flinch. His presence disarms every cell and nerve.

I hate him. And I hate him.

I glare right back. I stretch my neck to find his darkened eyes. I cross my arms over my chest. My forearms skim his skin. "Step the hell away from me," I spit. His nostrils flare.

"You're in my way." He doesn't move. And hell if I'll move.

"I was here first," and fuck you.

"Out!"

"I will not." I play calm.

He shifts. His face twists for a split second. He's in pain. My insides soar just as quick.

But then he smirks. My eyes switch from his left eye to his right. And then he's close. Too close. He leans in slowly. I try not to lean away but gulp. I watch his shoulder muscles move. I stand my ground. My arms uncross and I find the ledge behind me with tense elbows. Heat radiates off him. Fire.

"One more word out of your mouth, I'll add thirty more minutes to how I'll make you pay," he whispers. His breath on my ear. I don't know what he means. He switches ears, "You didn't think you'd get away with it, did you? You'll pay your debt. Whatever I want." I feel his lips smile with a pause, "Just like Charlie." I snap. Heat rises from my very core. I find his eyes through hooded orbs. Something erupts.

My fist pulls back and I snap. My wrist has healed. His face is Emmett at the door. His face is the solid surface I practiced every swing on...for this. He reels back. His cheek turns. The hard blow catches him by surprise. I see it in his eyes.

His chest is next. His stomach. I kick. I punch. I go blind. "What did you do to him? What did you do to my father? Fucking murderer!" I'm screaming and I hate him. He staggers back. I lean on my elbows behind me and my foot emerges towards his other cheek. He bends from that blow. My knee finds his stomach. "You fucking..." and I twine my fingers together and bang the air out of his lungs from his back. "...I'll kill you!"

I'm fucking soaring. He's under water and my adrenaline surges. I dip to find him. To beat and beat until I loose it all.

Hands. I'm surging but my muscles go tense. Hands find my ankles again.

I see black.

I'm pulled and pulled. My arms can't swing hard enough. My legs can't kick hard enough. A hand on my neck and surging turns to panic. I don't see him. Darkness swallows me up and I see nothing.

He pulls me deeper and I can't find oxygen. I dig my nails into his hand. It's too much weight. I panic. My desperate limbs try and find a ledge, a wall... anything. Nothing.

I gulp water and I'm drowning. He pulls me up. Air.

I choke and purge all of it back up. My hair sticks to my eyes and face. I still can't see him. I get two breaths and he dunks me back in. I didn't have a second to brace myself. I swallow water on my third breath. He's relentless and I hate him.

Air. I gulp. My chest constricts, his presses to my back. I reach high and my fingers find his face blindly. I fight. I slam a fist against the hard jaw, neck—anything. Again and again. He pushes and it's black again. His fist squeezes my neck. Like lead. I can't pull it away.

Minutes. Torture. He doesn't stop.

I can't count the times he pulls me up and pushes back down. I choke and I drown...over and over again. It burns. Just when I feel I'll slip, no bubbles of air is left, he pulls. My arms grow limp. My legs can't find the ground underneath. My head is limp on his scratched up forearm. And he dunks and pushes—beyond my surrender.

The pool's wall slams against my back. It sends all the water I've swallowed back up. It's black and It tastes of bile, copper and chemicals. He lets go. I slip under, weak. I catch myself with failing limps and he's in front of me again. Trapped.

I heave and cough. Black water seeps from my nose, mouth—everywhere. Dizzy, I find my bearings against warm hard skin. I pull away. I cower towards the cold hard cement behind me. It's safe. I hold on with blurry eyes.

He spits out blood. It trails down his chin, throat and chest. His teeth are coated in crimson and he's growling words. I can't hear. I wipe water and hair off my face and I'm panting.

He's red with blood and fury.

Water drains out of my ears and then I can hear. "...and you defend him! He lead them to you and you defend him!" His words send drops of his blood flying. I flinch. Our foreheads are glued and he's against my face. He's yelling. "Your father is a fucking traitor, Swan! He sold your life for money! I take down every man he sends you and you defend him!" I can't respond. I push at his chest to look in his eyes. They don't lie. They're fiery yellow.

"What..." I whimper. His heavy breaths leave his nostrils in angry puffs.

"Lieutenant Charlie Swan was payed to give up his daughter—his own flesh and blood! That's right, Bella, your fucking hero is your enemy."

"No," I shake my dizzy head and I won't believe it. It sends me reeling to one side. I can't focus and my brain in heavy. My trembling hand finds his mouth and I won't accept it. "Shut it... shut your mouth!" I push and he doesn't move. He stands still and he doesn't stop.

"Yes," he hisses shaking me off. "He cleaned up all the mess. He set up a kidnap in a hospital. He wrote up road disasters as accidents. He hid a blazing truck—remember that one? Did you ask him about that one?"

"SHUT UP!" I cover my ears and he's wrong. He lies.

"What did he say, Swan? He lied, didn't he?" he shakes his head, "He cleaned it all up for money and he turned his cheek." He pauses and I remember now. I don't say a word but I remember.

Charlie was nervous. Charlie was evasive. He didn't help me when I ran to him. He said I was crazy. I was hurt and I remember now because I almost believed him. I thought it might've all been a dream. But he fidgeted and dismissed me. He didn't help.

I can't find the words.

"He sold you," he whispers. Our foreheads touch and I can't breathe.

My life is a lie.

Flashes of moments alone with him seep in. In the Hospital. At home. His touch to my cheek when he said he loved me. I try and find the truth in them. He was overprotective. He gave me mace. He said I was beautiful. But my life is a lie.

"Get out of my pool," and he's done. He's serious and he's done.

A sob escapes my chest. "I hate you."

"Out!" but he doesn't move. The stairs are still far. I push against his lead-heavy forearm and he doesn't let me pass. I look up at hatred. He doesn't plan to move. I look around. I look back. It's the only way out. My palms find the ledge behind me. I push against my spine and fall back in. I'm too dizzy from all the consumed chemical water. From lack of oxygen.

He's too close and it's too high. Our fronts collide. I try two more times and he just glares. This is punishment. I want to get away but can't do it fast enough.

My arms shake on the third try and my knees bend. My feet need leverage. They kick against nothing in the water. I can't fall in again.

I don't think and my foot finds his hip. I push. My skin burns under his. He just stares. I can't look at his face and mine heats red.

I fold my legs in. I'm almost out. But they skim his forearms still locked at my sides...and it burns. It's silent and the painful difficulty is awkward. It rips a sob through my chest. He'll never make it easy. I know this as I run out.

"Two hours, Swan. Wait for me in your room." he calls after me.

I regret and I grind my teeth at my plan to find Carlisle's door. I regret the very moment I used and hurt my wrist again. I regret.

I run faster because I believe him. Whatever he'll do.


A/N: I see you adding and I thank thee! Much hugs. Please share the love. Thanks for the reviews. They're antidote to my disorder! While you wait for next chap, Read: jayisuncouth's, Red Corn Poppy. :-)