A/N: Slight trigger warning, proceed with care.


Chapter Eleven

Bella was ten aisles deep in her favourite second-hand bookstore in Port Angeles when the owner, a kind sixty-something woman called out that the store would be closing in a few minutes.

"Okay, thank you!" Bella called back, knowing that she was the only customer still in the store and she cringed when she glanced down at her watch, realising that she'd spent three hours flicking through worn paperbacks.

Looking down at the small pile of books she'd decided to buy, she chuckled. For three hours work one might have thought that she'd have more than ten books in her pile.

They were mostly older books, one a navy blue leather bound and gold embossed copy of Pride and Prejudice that was only four dollars and a copy of Jane Eyre that someone had spent a lot of time sketching images of characters in that was only five. The others consisted of miscellaneous books whose descriptions sounded enticing.

She paid for her purchases and left the store, putting the bag of books in her car before glancing down at her watch. She'd noticed a small music store a few streets over when she'd driven in and she debated walking the few blocks over. With a glance at her iPod, she locked her car and started walking, her decision made. While she loved her iPod, she still liked owning physical copies of her favourite CD's.

Much like her preference for paperbacks over ereaders, there was just some utterly unique feeling about owning a physical copy of something.


She made her way out of the music store, a small bag filled with CD's dangling from her arm and glared at the dark grey cloud that had swallowed the sun and any chance at her seeing a decent sunset. It was something she'd missed out on in Chicago too and she almost wished her mother still lived in Phoenix so she could visit and see one again. A good one, one where the sky was bright with burnt orange and teal and pink if there was a cloud or two.

She shook her head and continued on her way, grateful for the chance to stretch her legs a little. She hadn't been as active as she would have liked over the past few weeks, even with the new hiking boots. She avoided the meadow because she was too torn over whether or not she wanted to find him in it again.

She'd only walked a block and a half when she heard the footsteps behind her. Her heart stuttered at the sound and picked up and she took in a low breath, praying that it was just a family or group of kids walking behind her.

"Hey, sweet thing!" she heard a male voice shout behind her, confirming her fears. She'd seen the group of men earlier, loitering across the road from the music shop when she'd walked in, drinking alcohol straight from the bottle, laughing when one of them made a crude remark about her.

She'd thought she'd been safe because she hadn't seen then when she'd walked out of the shop but obviously, she'd been wrong.

"Bitch, we're talking to you!" another one of them said and she shuddered, her stomach churning with anxiety.

She heard the footsteps get closer and that sense of dread that she'd felt deep in the pit of her stomach the morning she'd broken her arm made itself known once more.

One of them tripped over the sidewalk again and she could make out the sounds of his friends teasing him for it, their laughter making her more unsteady. She looked around the street, the sky darkening far too quickly for comfort and almost started crying. The street hadn't looked this ominous on her walk earlier in the day, it hadn't appeared so abandoned – had it?

She picked up her pace then, knowing that there was no way she'd ever be able to fight four of them off, even with the can of pepper spray in her bag, the one her father replaced every Christmas.

"Where do you think you're going?!" one of them asked and this time she could feel the bile rising from her stomach. That was the voice of the one who had made the initial comment about her and when she'd met his eyes from across the road, she could see the intent behind his remark.

She whimpered and she heard them all begin to pick up their pace.

She started running then, flat out and as though her life depended on it, which if she thought about it, it probably was. She ran faster than she'd ever run in her life, knowing that it still wasn't fast enough, that they would still catch up to her.

And five seconds later, when she felt someone grab hold of the back of her jacket and tug, she knew they had.

A second after that, she felt her back collide with the front of one of them, his body warmth radiating grossly through her jacket and something hard digging into her back. It made her want to vomit.

"Hey, don't hog her!" one of them slurred, making his way to where she was now trapped and a second later she was crying out in pain. He'd grabbed a fist of her hair and had tugged her in his direction but much like the day she'd tried to yank her cardigan from her car door, he'd pulled too hard and she found herself watching as the pavement grew closer and closer to her face.

She braced for the pain but it never came.

Strong, unyielding arms were wrapped around her and a scent invaded her senses, one she'd only ever smelled before on three separate occasions. She opened her eyes and found Edward Cullen's staring right back at her. She was in his arms.

And a second later, she wasn't.

She was standing five feet away, watching as he incapacitated her pursuers far too quickly for her eyes or brain to comprehend. If she hadn't been in shock, she was sure her jaw would be on the ground.

It was over in seconds, the drunk men no match for Edward's speed and soon found themselves all sprawled out on the sidewalk, groaning or passed out.

Edward stood in the middle of them, not looking like he was breathing as he stared at her and she let out a shaky breath she hadn't realised that she'd been holding.

"Can you get me out of here?" she whispered, her voice so soft she thought he might not hear her but he obviously must have because a moment later she found herself in his arms, and he carried her over to the silver car she knew hadn't been there a minute before.

He opened the door and lowered her onto the passenger seat gently and a few seconds later he sat next to her in the driver's seat, turning on the heater and pointing it in her direction. She felt the heat but didn't feel any warmer.

They sat in silence for a few seconds, paying no attention to the men that were now scattering away, not taking chances with a second round. The silence was tense and Bella felt her hands starting to shake.

"What can I do?" he asked, his voice uncertain and she turned her head to look at him to find his eyes already on her, his gaze filled with concern and something that looked almost like…fear.

"Hold me?" she asked, her voice small and uncertain. She didn't think he would and she braced for him to tell her to ask for something else but it didn't come. Instead, she found herself being lifted and maneuvered out of her seat and onto his lap in the driver seat, her head pressed against his chest.

"Bella," he whispered softly, sadly as he wrapped one arm around her and lifted the other to stroke her head. She felt lips press against her hairline and whatever handle she had previously held against her emotions was lost.

And she cried.

Because she'd nearly been assaulted.

Because she might have died.

Because he had saved her.

His arm around her tightened but his rhythmic stroke of her hair didn't falter, not even when she started to calm and the tears began to lessen, did he let her go.

And she realised then, as his lips met her skin again, that she didn't want him to.