Chapter 11

Angela parked her car in the driveway and sat for a moment looking up at the house that was no longer her home. It had been more than a month since she had been here alone and, as she turned off the engine and stepped out of the car, she realized that she didn't actually miss this place at all. A lopsided smile quirked her lips as she thought of the home she had with the Cullens and grabbed her purse from the back seat before walking down to the mailbox. It was full of mostly coupon circulars and advertisements, but there was one large manila envelope as well. Frowning, she turned it over in her hands, studying the envelope and searching for any sign as to who the sender was. The only marking on it was her first name telling her that whoever sent it had more than likely placed it in the mailbox themselves.

If it weren't for the fact that she knew Broomer was still in jail, she would be concerned that this was from her stalker. Her eyebrows lifted in an expression similar to a shrug and she walked to the front door. She slipped her key into the lock, not noticing that the door was already unlocked, and twisted the brass knob before walking inside her childhood home. She gave a short laugh at herself as she looked around at the perfectly set furniture. Not a thing was out of place, the only difference was the thin layer of dust on the flat surfaces. She had talked with Carlisle and Esme, telling them that there were still a few things she needed to get from her house before she would be able to completely move into the Cullen's manor. The room that they had made for her still warmed her heart and the way that both Carlisle and Esme had taken to treating her as their own child moved her to tears more than once.

Walking into the kitchen, Angela dropped the junk mail into the garbage bin and took the last can of Dr. Pepper from the fridge before walking upstairs. Setting the can of soda on her desk, she dropped the envelope onto her neatly made bed; there would be time to look at it later. Intellectually she knew that her attacker was in jail, being guarded by Chief Swan and his deputies, but she still felt unsafe and nervous inside this house. Her plan was to gather the rest of her priceless artifacts and return home as soon as possible. The only thing she wanted to do was to leave this house, and its memories, behind.

A lopsided grin pulled at her lips as she dropped her keys to rest on top of the envelope and stared at the brand new custom design key on her keychain. Decorated with tiny red roses, it was her very own key to the Cullen manor. She hadn't had a reason to use it before now, but she would this weekend as the entire family was going hunting together. Carlisle would be staying behind until midnight when his shift at the hospital ended, but then he would be joining the others as well. Popping the top on the can of soda, Angela took a long drink before setting it back down and moving to her closet. Pulling down a large shoe box that had long since been covered in purple wrapping paper for decoration, Angela carried it to her bed and looked inside.

All of her academic awards from fourth grade on were stored inside that box. There were a number of medals from grade school spelling bees and one from a sixth grade academic contest. She had stopped participating in the competitions when she realized that no matter what she did, her parents would never do anything more than drop her off before the event and pick her up after. They never attended, never watched her perform, and no matter how hard she tried, they were never proud of her. Replacing the lid, she moved back to her closet and removed two more boxes, setting them on her bed without looking inside them.

Kneeling down on the floor of her closet, Angela took out an empty banker's box and set it open on her bed. Tucking a stack of her ten most read books into the box, she gathered a few college textbooks that she had ordered online and placed them inside the box as well. Closing the lid, she jumped slightly when the cell phone in her pocket vibrated and began ringing, the soft melody of Butterfly Kisses filling the air. Carlisle hadn't programmed his own ringtone, she had, and there were times when she wondered what he would think of it. Answering the call, she held the phone to her ear and smiled at his warm greeting.

"I'm fine," she assured him with a soft laugh. "Just about done here actually, I should be heading home in about twenty minutes or so."

"Take as much time as you need, Angela. It is your childhood home, I'm certain it can't be easy for you to give up," he told her, his voice gentle and soothing.

"There's really nothing worth remembering here," Angela said with a sigh. "It wasn't much of a childhood."

Carlisle was quiet for a moment as he digested that and Angela frowned as she looked through her desk drawer. Tucking the phone between her ear and shoulder, she used both hands to move around things in the top drawer before moving to the next one down and repeating the process.

"Angela?" Carlisle's voice reminded her that she wasn't entirely alone.

"It's missing," she said absently, moving to hold the phone with her hand and turning the call on speaker before laying the device on top of her desk.

"What's missing?" he asked her, taking note of her distracted and worried tone.

"My journal, I've always kept it in my desk and it's not here. It wasn't in the things that Emmett brought back either." Angela's frown deepened and she sat back on her heels, staring up at the phone as though she were looking into Carlisle's face. "You don't think he… I mean they searched his place, right?"

"It is possible that he took it. If he did, your journal would be held as evidence until the trial and sentencing are completed. Do you remember when you last saw it?"

Thinking back and shaking her head before she realized that he couldn't see her, Angela spoke. "No, not really. I remember writing in it after Emmett and I first started working on the assignment for history class, but I don't remember looking for it after that."

"Let's just hope it's simply misplaced then, hmm?" Carlisle said. "I have to get back, call or text me when you get home."

"I will, have fun camping," she told him using the family's code word for hunting.

He chuckled as he hung up and Angela bit her lip. It was more than comforting to have a family and the feelings that she had concerning the Cullens were an indescribable mix of love, gratitude, affection and everything wonderful. More than once that same confluence of emotions had left her in tears. Whenever she felt overcome by those same emotions, Jasper would appear beside her and simply sit or stand next to her. At first, she hadn't understood why, but hadn't questioned his actions either. Once she remembered what Carlisle had told her about his talent though, Angela had taken to nudging against his shoulder or hugging him, both actions returned with enthusiasm from the southern vampire.

Shaking herself from her thoughts, Angela tucked her cell phone into her jeans pocket and began to carry the boxes from her bed out to her car. After a few moments, the only things left to be carried down were the strange envelope and her car keys. Angela stood still for a moment, scanning the room with her eyes and realizing once again that this home, this place, meant nothing to her. It was a place she had once lived, that was all. Now she had a new home with a family who not only loved her, but wanted her as well. Snatching up the items on her bed, she jogged down the stairs, turning out the lights as she went and locked the front door before climbing behind the wheel of her car.

The drive back to the Cullen's home was short and it took less time than Angela thought it would to carry the boxes from her car up to her bedroom. Looking at her watch, she shook her head. It was almost midnight. Taking the still sealed envelope with her down into the kitchen, Angela dialed Carlisle's phone, and tucked the phone between her ear and shoulder as she bent the metal brackets up to open the flap. Removing a piece of paper from inside the manila envelope, she held it up, her face a mask of confusion as she read the short note over and over again.

Beauty is a rose in winter.

What did that mean; she wondered and frowned as she set the note aside on the counter. Carlisle's voicemail picked up and she smiled figuring that he may have already left for the hunting trip if he had gotten off earlier than expected. Her smile fell as she withdrew the smooth thick papers from the envelope only to discover that they were photos. Flipping the stack of large photos over to see the images, Angela froze, her phone clattering to the floor below when she lifted her head from her shoulder.

They were all photos of her. In the first few she was simply lying in her bed tucked beneath the covers. But as they progressed, she found images of her sleeping with the covers thrown back and her body exposed. In the next photo she was completely naked on her bed and a man's hand was touching her breast, in the next photo it was her thigh. She felt sickened by the photos, her skin crawling as she began to feel shamed and unclean, but she couldn't stop flipping through the images and they only got worse.

There were photos of her in the shower at her house, in the showers at school. There were photos of her walking next to Emmett, but his face had been scratched out. 'Who is he? You belong to me' was scrawled in red marker beneath Emmett's waist in the photograph, a Bull's-eye drawn around his scratched out head. The last photo robbed her of the ability to breathe, her heart skipping a few beats before hammering wildly in her chest. She was again lying naked in her bed, but this time the man's hand, the only part of her stalker ever seen, was in between her thighs and it was clear just where his fingers were.

"Angela?"

Screaming and spinning around to face Carlisle, her eyes were impossibly wide and her face was unbelievably pale. She hadn't even heard him come in, hadn't heard his steps or his voice. Carlisle frowned at the sight of her obvious distress. It wasn't that he had scared her, no; whatever she had been looking at had terrified her. The stack of photos in her hand fell to the floor as her teeth chattered and he opened his arms to her, accepting her weight when she crashed into him. Holding Angela tucked against his chest, doing his best to soothe her terror, his eyes scanned over the photos below and he was hard pressed to bite back the growl building low in his throat.

He had come home to change before going hunting and was concerned by the odd voicemail left from Angela. There had been no sound, save the clatter of her phone falling to the floor before the call had disconnected and he had been understandably worried. When he had found her standing in the kitchen, unresponsive to his earlier attempts to get her attention, he had stepped up behind her and called her name once more. Her shrill cry and the look of absolute terror in her face had silenced him; he hadn't expected that reaction at all. Ducking his chin to kiss her head as he stroked her hair, Carlisle's eyes scanned over what he could see without moving the overturned photos to see more. Lifting her into his arms, he carried her out of the kitchen and sat down with her on the couch, doing his best to calm her before asking her about the photos. The girl in his arms was terrified and for good reason, her stalker had been far closer than anyone – including Angela – had ever realized.

"Shh," he whispered to her, stroking her hair.

He held her tightly, rocking her slowly as he tried to calm her. Her heart was beating far too fast and she was beginning to hyperventilate. Moving her back to see her face, Carlisle cupped her cheeks in his hands and stared into her eyes.

"Look at me, Angela," he instructed her gently. "Keep your focus on me. Deep, slow breaths…that's it, good girl," he praised her when she was finally able to calm her breathing, her heart rate slowing as well.

"I found them in my mailbox," her voice was little more than a high pitched whimper. "How did he get those photos?" her anxiety was spiking again. "He was touching me! I was asleep, how could I be asleep. He was-"

"Shh," he interrupted her, tucking her hair behind her ears and kissing her forehead. "Don't think about that right now, Angela. Shh, you're safe, baby girl. You're safe here."

Her arms wrapped around his neck and under his arm as she pressed her face into the curve of his throat and cried. Turning his head, he kissed her cheek and held her tightly, rubbing her back as he spoke softly to her. Abused and neglected by her parents, plagued by severe migraines, and terrorized by a stalker who seemed to be intent on breaking her; Carlisle began to wonder if she would ever feel completely safe. Petting her hair and rubbing her back until she fell asleep in his arms, he withdrew his phone from his coat pocket and pressed the number one speed dial for Esme.

"Carlisle," her warm voice greeted him. "Why are you calling me? Come out and hunt."

"I'm staying with Angela, at least until one of the others comes home," he told her, his voice at once both sad and angered.

"What happened?" Esme asked immediately worried, and he could hear Emmett's voice in the background.

"Hold on," he told her and set his phone down on the low coffee table next to him before laying Angela gently down on the cushions and covering her with his long black wool coat. Picking up his phone he stood and walked into the kitchen, "When Angela went to her house and checked her mail she found an envelope. Her stalker got a lot closer than anyone knew," he said as he tucked the phone between his ear and shoulder as he gathered the photos, turning over the ones that had fallen face down and looked through them before laying them on the counter.

"Carlisle? What was in that envelope?"

'Envelope?'Emmett's voice sounded from the background. 'What the hell's going on?'

"Put me on speaker, Esme," Carlisle instructed and waited until she did so. "Angela found an unmarked envelope in her mailbox. Inside were pictures of her taken by her stalker. He got very close."

"How close?" Emmett snarled.

"There were pictures of her taken while she was in the shower and while she was sleeping. He was touching her while she was sleeping. He disrobed her."

His wife and son were silent for a long moment before Emmett's growl disrupted the quiet.

"I'm coming home," Emmett proclaimed, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Esme, you'll let Rose know? We broke off about fifty miles back."

"I'll let her know," Esme promised, and the sound of rushing wind could be heard. "He's already gone, Carlisle. Emmett will probably reach you in a few hours," she told him.

"She takes to him like a teddy bear," he mused with a soft chuckle.

Esme laughed, "A well muscled and rather protective teddy bear. She lets him guard her and dote on her as he likes to and Emmett is the eternal big brother. He's already caught two bears," she told him. "If Angela feels comfortable enough once he's home, then you should come hunt."

"I love you, my beautiful angel."

"And I love you. Take care of her, Carlisle; don't let her worry too much."

:::::

"Forks Police Department, Deputy Carson speaking," the young man barely out of the academy answered the phone. "Oh, hi Doctor Cullen…Chief Swan? No he went home around eleven, is there something I can help with?"

The young man's brow furrowed as he thought over the request. It sounded a bit odd, but there wasn't any harm in following through and he asked Dr. Cullen to hold the line while he stepped away from the desk. Walking back to the holding area and through to the jail cells, he took out his keys and unlocked the door holding the man who'd been arrested for breaking into Angela Weber's home and attacking her. There wasn't much crime in the small town of Forks, most of it consisting of breaking and entering or drunk and disorderly. For someone to have been arrested for attempted sexual assault, a crime that in and of itself was difficult if not impossible to prosecute was unheard of in Forks.

"Wake up, Broomer, show me your right hand," Deputy Carson commanded, his voice demanding as he kicked the bed's leg to shake the glorified bench.

"Go away, police puppy," the man grumbled without fully waking.

Deputy Carson sighed and grabbed the man's right wrist to lift his arm and looked at the back of his hand. There was a bit of deformed flesh near the curve of his thumb where he had been burned some years back and a laughing skull with glowing red eyes the size of a half dollar that decorated the back of his hand. The tattoo was at least five years old, definitely in need of recoloring; he thought and dropped the inmate's hand. Shaking his head as he left the cell and relocked the door, he returned to the phone.

"Doctor Cullen?" he asked to be sure the man was still on the other end of the line. "There's a burn scar in the curve of his right thumb and forefinger and a tattoo on the back of his right hand. Does that help you?"

Carlisle frowned as he thanked the young deputy and disconnected the call. The man being held was not the same one stalking her. The hand in the photographs was unblemished and manicured. This would only validate Broomer's claims of being paid to attack Angela and could get him released from jail. Angela was not safe on her own. He needed to call Charlie and get the photos to him for testing, but it was already well past midnight. Looking up when the kitchen door opened, he saw Emmett enter, his face a mask of anger and determination.

"Where is she?" Emmett asked without preamble, his concern for the girl he considered part of his family evident in his tone.

"Sleeping on the couch, I wanted her close in case she woke up," Carlisle answered and followed Emmett out into the living room.

He watched as his son stepped up to the sofa soundlessly and knelt down in front of Angela's sleeping form. Emmett's movements were gentle and slow as he reached out and tucked Angela's hair behind her ear, sweeping the length over her shoulder to see her sleeping face. Her eyes were still red from her tears and when he leaned close to kiss her forehead, she stirred.

"Emmett?" Angela spoke his name with exhaustion, her voice little more than a tired moan.

"Hey, half pint," he said, resting his hand on her face as he chaffed her cheekbone with the pad of his thumb.

"You're 'pose to be hunting," she said sleep slurring the words, her eyes heavy and half lidded.

He gave a half smile as he moved and lifted her into his arms before taking her seat on the couch and holding in his lap. He cradled her against his shoulder, looking up at Carlisle when his adoptive father moved closer and sat down on the low coffee table. She curled closer against his chest, burying her face into the soft fabric of his shirt as she again told him that he was supposed to be hunting.

"You're more important," he told her, silencing her objections. "Besides that, I've already got two bears," he told her and looked down into her eyes when she lifted her face, pointing to his eye. "See? Sun gold. All stuffed."

Angela gave a tired laugh and tucked herself tighter against him, burying her face once more against his chest as she fell asleep once again. Dipping his head down, Emmett kissed her hair and pulled Carlisle's coat tighter around her shoulders, blanketing her with the dark wool. Looking up at his father he spoke too softly for humans to hear and asked to see the photos. Pressing his lips into a thin line, Carlisle handed the stack of photos over, reminding his son of the girl in his arms when he started to growl dangerously, the sound nearly a snarl. He hadn't fed on or killed a human in over sixty years, but for this bastard, Emmett thought, he would make an exception.

Rosalie slipped into the house a short half hour later, moving to stand behind her husband as she took the photos from his hands. Her beautiful face twisted in rage as she tossed the photos down onto the table next to Carlisle and hissed low, demanding to know how someone had gotten that close to Angela without her knowing.

"Before moving in with us, she was alone taking care of herself," Carlisle told her in a low voice as he looked at the sleeping girl cradled in his son's arms before looking back up at his temperamental daughter. "Those massive migraines that she has, similar to the one that she had a few weeks ago when she was with Bella," he began and raised his brows to see if Rosalie understood to which one he was referring.

"The one that made her cry blood?" Rosalie asked, reaching out to brush the backs of her fingers down the girl's warm cheek.

Rosalie didn't often show it, but she was as worried about Angela as anyone else. She had seen the girl endure a migraine that radiated enough pain to drive Jasper to the floor and left him unable to do more than beg to be taken out into the forest surrounding the house. Anyone, human or vampire, would be screaming out from such pain, but not Angela. No, she had watched the girl whimper and fold herself down into a tight ball where she sat in the corner of her room, rocking slowly with her face tucked into her knees. It wasn't natural for someone to hide their pain that much and she wondered, just as everyone else did, why she was so determined to hide her pain.

"Yes. She informed me that those have occurred roughly once a month for the past year. However, with us, I was able to administer the medicine that she needed and bring her pain down as quickly as possible. Previously, when she was on her own, she would remain unconscious anywhere from one to three days. Also, her migraine medications, when they worked, had a tendency to knock her out depending on what she took." Carlisle's eyes looked away from Rosalie, settling on Emmett and the protective manner with which he held Angela. "Due to those factors, there is no telling what else he could've done to her while she was asleep. She wouldn't have felt or been aware of any of it. I expect that she will feel rather violated and unsafe when she wakes. You two will look after her while I hunt?"

His question didn't require an answer, his words more of a soft command than a request. Emmett nodded, his expression mixed bits of concern, anger and possessiveness, his glower that of a big brother protecting his hurt sister. Standing up and bending low over Angela's sleeping form, Carlisle kissed her hair, the gesture as always a silent promise of his protection.

"There's one other thing," he said before leaving to change into loose fitting clothing suitable for hunting. "The man who broke into her house, Broomer," he clarified. "He is not the man stalking her. I called the station house and had the deputy check his right hand. I have no doubt that the two men are connected as Broomer has always maintained, but until her stalker is apprehended, she is not to be alone when she leaves this house. Either one of us or Bella should be with her at all times."

Emmett and Rosalie nodded their understanding and Carlisle looked down at Angela once more before moving to the stairs and disappearing to the floor above. He returned moments later dressed more casually and smiled somewhat sadly at the sight of Rosalie and Emmett sitting close together on the couch, Angela still cradled in his arms. He offered a silent prayer to the god he'd praised and preached to in his human youth that Angela would find peace and comfort. Slipping out the front door, he rounded the house and sped into the forest, intent on meeting up with Esme and making his hunt as quick as possible.

"Emmett," Rosalie spoke softly, looking between her husband and the girl in his arms. "You should really put her to bed. We can stay with her if you want, but you should lay her down."

He grunted in response, his gaze never leaving Angela's face. She was three days shy of seventeen, plenty old enough by anyone's standards to care for herself, but all his instincts told him to hold her and keep physical contact with her. He couldn't let her out of his sight. Whoever her stalker was, he had gotten too close, close enough to violate her and take away her sense of safety. By sending her the photos he had taken, all this bastard was doing was gloating, taking away her comfort and marking her by making her constantly look over her shoulder.

"I know how you feel," she told him, sitting in front of him on the coffee table. "I know how I feel. I knew my attackers, my fiancée and his friends. Angela, she doesn't have that. She doesn't know who this son of a bitch is. She doesn't know how he knows her or why he's hunting her; all she does know is that she feels terrified. To her, there is no place that's safe."

"We're here. Our house, this place is safe," Emmett told her, finally standing with Angela cradled high against his chest.

"Emmett, think about it," Rosalie said as she followed him up the stairs and into Angela's bedroom watching as he laid her down gently. "If we weren't here do you really think that she'd feel safe?"

Rosalie watched as Emmett moved around the room nervously. She had never seen him any way other than absolutely certain of what he was doing. Why did he seem so uncertain now? A soft whimper drew her attention and she turned her head. Angela was still asleep, but she was shivering, trembling and the scent rolling off her was one that every vampire knew from their very first moment after being changed – fear.

"Angela, wake up," Rosalie said, her hand on the girl's ankle, shaking her leg gently. "Come on, Sweetie, you're safe here. Wake up."

"Come on, half pint," Emmett knelt on the bed next to her as Rosalie moved to the girl's other side.

"No, no please," Angela whimpered in her sleep, her breathing becoming dangerously close to hyperventilating as her heart raced madly.

"Angela, baby, you're safe. Wake up, honey," Emmett spoke to her, leaning over her to cup her face in his hand.

She wasn't waking up. Emmett looked up at Rosalie, his golden gaze begging her to do something, say anything that would wake her up. She tried shaking Angela's shoulder, calling her name, tapping her cheek, but nothing worked. Angela cried out, scratched at her arms, Emmett caught her hands before she could scratch at her face. The terrified scream that ripped from Angela was more than either of them could take and Rosalie bent low, her face barely an inch apart from Angela's as she released a deep, loud growl, the sound in and of itself waking the girl from her nightmare.

Angela screamed as she shot up in bed, taking in a shuddering breath as the images in her mind dispelled. Her jaw moved, her lips parted as tears leaked from her eyes, but no sound came forth, no words were spoken. She felt violated, unclean, more unworthy of their love and affection than her parents had ever made her feel and she pulled at her arms until she was free. Rosalie shook her head, telling Emmett to stay where he was while she went after Angela. She had an intimate understanding of how the girl must feel, and knew that having a male nearby when these feelings were too close to the surface would make Angela's unstable mood that much more fragile.

She followed Angela into the bathroom, the shower already turned on as hot as it would go. The steaming water rained down on her, soaking her through the clothes she still wore and leaving red blotches on her exposed skin. Angela was dragging her nails over her skin, digging deep enough to draw pearls of blood in some places, her breath coming too fast to understand the words she was trying to speak.

"Stop. Stop," Rosalie said, catching Angela's wrists in her hands and trying to draw her attention. "Angela, look at me. Look. At. Me."

Her dark eyes were wide, her face terrified and pale even under the scalding water that was turning her skin red. Recognition dawned and a deep, aching sob broke from Angela as she leapt forward, wrapping her arms around Rosalie. The blonde vampire was surprised, but accepted the waterlogged girl against her, wrapping her in her arms and doing her best to soothe her upset. Those photos, Rosalie pursed her lips and tightened her arms around Angela's soaking form as she petted her wet hair, it was almost worse than being raped. The photos were evidence that someone had gotten close enough to touch her, close enough to violate her more than once while she slept. There were photos of her in the school's showers, in her shower at home; there wasn't a single place that felt safe to her now.

"Come on, sweetie, let me help you," Rosalie said softly as she pushed Angela gently away and began undressing her.

Waterlogged clothes fell to the tiled floor with loud splats. Rosalie caught the girl's hands when she began scraping her nails against her skin again, the already sensitive and torn flesh breaking as blood droplets bubbled to the surface. Understanding her discomfort, her terror, the feeling of invisible hands touching her, Rosalie stripped down to her bra and panties and stepped into the shower behind Angela. She held the human against her, let her cry into her shoulder as she gently shampooed her hair and washed her body.

"It's going to be alright, Angela," Rosalie said softly as she turned off the spray and wrapped the girl in a thick dark green towel.

"He touched me," Angela said, clenching her jaw against the rising tide of panic and nausea that left her dizzy. "He had his fingers inside me and I never knew. What else did he do to me? How many times was he in my home?"

Rosalie sighed and tucked the damp locks behind Angela's ears. "I don't know," her eyes and voice were sympathetic as she did her best to offer the girl comfort. "We may never know."

"What did I do?" Angela begged Rosalie for answers.

"What?" Rosalie's face contorted in confusion, her question little more than a breath of air.

"What did I do? I had to do something. He came after me, not someone else. I - "

"No!" Rosalie's voice was sharp, demanding Angela to listen as she grasped the girl's shoulders and shook her gently. "Listen to me, Angela. This is not your fault. You didn't cause this."

"Then why?" Angela sobbed and Rosalie's eyes fell closed in pained silence as she leaned forward and kissed Angela's brow.

"I wish I knew, sweetie. I wish I had an answer for you…But I don't. I don't know why this bastard is stalking you or what it is he hopes to gain. All I can tell you with absolute certainty is that my family and I, we will protect you. We will never let him get near you again. You will be – you are safe with us." Looking up as the bathroom door opened without a sound, Rosalie nodded quietly to Emmett. "If you're ok with it, Emmett's going to take you back to your room to get dressed, and then I'll be in to tend to your arms."

Angela looked down at her arms that she had scratched raw, her broken skin bleeding in more than one place. There were deep red lines over the majority of each forearm, long gouges raked from three inches below her elbow to her wrist, the lines thick with congealing blood. Angela sniffled and nodded as she looked at the dark red lines, her fingers returning to scratch at the clotting blood. Rosalie laid her hand on Angela's, shaking her head to stop her from opening up the wounds.

"Don't do that," Rosalie said and looked to the side, beckoning her husband closer. "Emmett's going to take you back to your room now, ok?"

"Hey, half pint," Emmett said softly, his voice gentle and concerned as he scooped her towel clad form up in his arms. "Let's get you into something warmer, ok?"

Angela drew in a deep, shuddering breath as she nodded and laid her head against Emmett's broad shoulder. He walked slowly as he carried her back to her bedroom and stood just outside the door as she changed into a long sleeved cotton sleep shirt and drawstring lounge pants. Her voice was soft, trembling as she told him that it was ok to enter and he opened the door slowly, sticking only his head inside until she bid him to enter fully.

He sat next to her on the bed, opening his arms and catching her as she fell against him, her tears making him want to hunt down her stalker even as he held her closer in a vain effort to guard her from her fears. Rosalie came in a moment later dressed in fresh clothes and tended to the self inflicted abrasions on Angela's forearms. Emmett sat behind her, holding Angela on his lap while Rosalie finished wrapping the gauze around her left arm. His cheek rested on her head, his voice low and hypnotic, soothing her to a near sleep state as he told her about the bear attack that led him to Rosalie and how he thought her to be an angel.

She was almost asleep, her eyes closed and her body relaxed when the door downstairs opened and closed loud enough to shock her awake. Angela jumped in Emmett's arms, grabbing onto his shirt in a desperate attempt to find safety from the shadows of her fear. Rosalie brushed her fingers against her cheek, drawing Angela's attention with her gentle touch.

"Hey, who comes into this house beside us?" Rosalie asked her as she sensed Jasper and Alice ascend the stairs.

"No one," Angela responded after a moment.

"That's right," Rosalie told her, her voice soothing. "No one but family ever comes in here. He won't get you here, we won't let him," she promised.

"Hey, Little One," Jasper said from the doorway as he entered her room slowly and moved to sit in front of Emmett on the bed.

He could feel Angela's fear, had been told by Alice what had happened and had seen the photos lying on the table downstairs shortly after entering the house. His love had told him that as much as Angela needed to feel safe, she would want him and Emmett more than she would herself or Rosalie. She needed to feel guarded, protected. He traced the pad of his right middle finger up over her cheek, tucking her hair behind her ear before leaning close to kiss her forehead.

"You just need your big brothers, huh?" Jasper asked, feeling her shame, fear and the deep seated feeling of being unclean. "We won't let him come near you again," he promised. "Let's get you to sleep, ok?" he said and helped Emmett guide her to lie back on the pillows as they sandwiched her between their bodies.

"We'll protect you, half pint," Emmett promised her as Alice and Rosalie covered the three of them with the thick heavy quilt from Carlisle and Esme's room. "You can sleep, we'll keep you safe."

Jasper kissed her temple, his silent promise of protection affirmed as he began infusing ribbons of safety and comfort to the girl. She turned toward him, her small hands clutching at his shirt as she fought against the sleep beckoning her. She still couldn't break free of her nightmare, the images of her dream and from the photos plaguing her mind.

"Will you tell me about Texas?" she asked Jasper, her voice soft as she sniffled.

"What do you want to know, Little One?" he asked and petted her hair.

"Were you as rambunctious a child as Emmett was?"

Jasper smiled and drew the backs of his fingers over her tear fevered cheek. "I don't know that rambunctious is the right word, but I did cause my fair share of trouble…"