DISCLAIMER: This work of fiction is a non-profit, amateur effort and is not intended in anyway to infringe on the rights of Stephanie Meyer who created the wonderful Twilight Saga.

OK you've been patient with me the last couple of days so as a reward for your good behaviour :-P I'm posting Chapter Thirteen today as well. Thank you to everyone for all the positive feedback (especially butterflybabe23 who's not missed a chapter yet, you rock!) and I hope you like this one…

Stop The Merry-Go-Round

Chapter Thirteen: I Know…

Jasper's Point of View

I had intended to march on over to her fuelled by righteous indignation and demand to know what the hell she thought she was playing at with the old couple, you didn't mess with people lives like that. I had even started to ask but then I remembered how she had called my name again, replayed the way it had sounded whispered in her sweet voice and all I'd wanted to do was haul her into my arms and kiss her. It had been close. When I'd seen her tongue flick over her lips my treacherous hands acted without my consent and petted her smooth skin. I saw her body rock towards mine and then…

I was captivated by the movement of her hips as she walked carefully over to the tall black guy who had called her name. I tensed, even in the relative darkness I could see unpleasantness in the way he arranged his features meaning to intimidate her and I hadn't missed the filthy things he'd said nor had I missed her mortified expression. I couldn't hear their conversation now but I saw him move back, a tiny insignificant step that most people would have missed as he redistributed his weight. I knew what it meant and before I could react, there it was, the sickening sound as his fist connected with her face. A range of emotions tumbled through me, shock at what had just happened, fear that he would strike her again before I could reach her but most overriding was the sense of unadulterated fury that boiled in my blood, heat flooded my limbs as I rushed to her side. Almost the instant the knife appeared in his hand three years of unrelenting and often ruthless training kicked in, almost. But not before my mind flashed back to another time, another place feeling only the pain from a thousand slashes to my skin, seeing only the hand holding a knife that was slick with my blood. In silence I grimly acknowledged to myself that being home among normal people for the last few months had changed nothing, my overriding impulse in that moment was still the need to kill and I let everything shut down until all that was left was an instinctual, automated machine. Dispassionately I assessed that he looked to about six foot one and well proportioned, not too heavy with muscle that it would make him slow, not too lean that he'd let me kick his ass without putting up one hell of a fight. Good. I didn't want this to be easy. I snorted softly to myself, a sound of derision, who was kidding? This was going to be way too fucking easy. I took in the emotion swimming in his dull brown eyes, pure hatred, he was full of it and he wasn't even bothering to conceal it. Inspite of myself I actually paused, did this give me the right to step in here? What if he was her lover? Her boss? Both? It didn't matter. I didn't care. He was not going to lay a hand on her again…ever…which, I thought with a touch of gallows humour, would work particularly well if I cut it off! Alert to everything around me I easily picked up the sounds of another person approaching our position and saw a well dressed man with long blonde hair tied back in a ponytail touch the arm of the guy holding the knife. I wasn't concerned. I could take out two as easily as one, even figuring the blade into the equation. They were dead men, they just hadn't realised it yet.

And then suddenly it was all over. Just like that they turned and left together but not before blondie had delivered a parting warning, they'd see to her later. It was all the more chilling because it was said in such a balanced tone of voice. I took a step forward, ready to follow them and finish this when I saw her in my peripheral vision, trembling like a leaf. She didn't utter a sound as she pitched forward and I snatched her up easily into my arms.

The only problem with closing yourself off from your emotions is the aftermath - you have to be able to deal with it when it all comes flooding back. As I held her cradled against me and stared down at the bruise already staining its way across her delicate cheekbone I knew that I wasn't dealing. I could feel the scorching anger, that I was barely containing beneath a wafer thin veneer of calm, lashing at my will. If I didn't hold on to it with brutal self control a flash flood of feeling would spill out. There would be no slow burning fuse to temper my wrath, no warning, it would be swift, merciless and totally deadly and those bastards wouldn't even hear me coming.

I heard her moan quietly and her eyes flickered open,

"Oh. Hello."

I watched as first surprise then wariness chased across her beautiful face. Her mind had been busy protecting itself and I knew that she it hadn't yet processed what had happened but before I had even finished formulating the thought I saw awareness dawn in her eyes and she stiffened in my arms, I was impressed that she managed to quell the quivering in her voice as she asked

"What happened? Where did Laurent go? How did you…ouch!"

She broke off as I tensed and unintentionally squeezed her slight frame, the son of a bitch had a name. I set her gently down, keeping one hand resting lightly in the small of her back just incase she needed the support and I heard the derisive snort in my head

"Yeah cowboy, it's got nothin' whatsoever to do with how good her soft skin feels under your fingertips right now. Nothin' to do with how she felt in your arms, how you can still smell her on you…"

"Jasper?"

Her sing-song voice interrupted my conversation with myself and raised goose bumps on my arms. I felt the hairs stand up on the back of my neck as though she were actually caressing them.

"Jasper I need you to go."

I blinked at her stupidly

"I beg your pardon?"

She pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed as though she was trying to explain something to a small child who wasn't paying attention. When she spoke again each word was very precise and very deliberate

"I. Need. You. To. Go."

Anger crashed through me. Fear. Doubt. Anger again.

"Please Jasper, before they come back."

Oh hell no! She was not getting rid of me like that not after what I'd just witnessed, what I'd nearly done. I didn't need this, her, on my conscience. I looked down at her, she really was a tiny little thing,

"Why? Does it get you off…the pain I mean?"

Once the coarse words had left my mouth I knew that I couldn't take them back no matter how much I might want to. I tried to tell myself that I didn't know where they came from, why I had said them but I was never a very good liar, not even when it came to lying to myself. All those feelings. All those emotions. I still wasn't dealing it seemed. I deflected her blow easily as she tried to slap me,

"You fucking…you bastard!"

My long fingers encircled her wrist and I made small movements with my thumb trying to soothe away the hurt I had inflicted,

"I'm sorry."

She tried to wrench free of my grasp,

"Don't you do that to me. Don't you touch me like that after what you just said to me. Don't you dare."

I heard the anguish in her voice, saw the fire flashing in her eyes and I smiled to myself. She was a fighter this young woman, she might be scared and hurting but she was damned if she was going to let me know it.

"I'm sorry darlin'. I had no right. I shouldn't have…"

She moved closer and placed two fingers against my lips effectively silencing me and, as I watched, the anger drained slowly out of her body and her shoulders slumped forward. In that moment there was an air of such profound sadness surrounding her that I, quite literally, couldn't breathe.

"It's alright Jasper" she whispered "It's alright. I understand. I know what she, what they did to you."

Her voice was so quiet I wasn't even sure she had spoken until I felt her fingers leave my lips and stroke first the scar on my neck and then those on my wrist.