Hola Chicos!

Welcome to the Jungle, bbs.

*And cue some swoon-worthy Slash and Axel.*

Hehe. Stolen Souls is about to get good! Finally.

Everything that came before this chapter was setting up for the story. The characterizations and major backgrounds. NOW, it's time to start the story. Everything from this point on IS THE STORY! I'm excited to bring it to you. Buckle your seatbelts, it's gonna be one hell of a ride and I hope you enjoy it as much as I'm excited to share it with you.

Thanks as always to the amazing Julieblys and the most awesomest beta ever PunkyBumpkin. And to my new kick ass Twilighted beta Content1.

Quick personal note. Today is Veteran's Day in the US. As many of you know I'm a very proud veteran. This day is very important to me for a great number of reasons. But I'd like to ask all of you to take a moment and truly thank those who are in service of your country, it's a tremendous sacrifice and whether or not you agree with what they are doing, the fact of the matter is they are still out there doing what others can't and won't and in many cases shouldn't and it isn't easy. They deserve all the support we can give them, also just as much as families of military members-hardest job ever, I think.

SO I invite any of my readers to let me know if you're a veteran, because I'd love to personally extend my thanks. OR if you're a family member of a veteran. Please share with us your story. Thank you ALL for what you do. Truly.

So my FFN readers get this update earlier than my Twilighted ones because I just wanted to express my gratitude.

http:/ i848 (.) photobucket (.) com/albums/ab43/Nayarit1984/Imissmycamis (.) jpg

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight or any of its characters. No copyright infringement is intended.

Stolen Souls

Chapter 21

My knee was bouncing from where I sat on the floor waiting for her. I knew this wasn't going to be easy. This wasn't some tale Bloom or Dumas wrote, where you had a little drama and then everything worked itself out. There wasn't any type of comparison; I had no idea what this was exactly. I wouldn't tell her that my wife was leaving me and that she was the one I wanted to wake up next to every morning before we both rode off into the sunset.

Byronic Hero wasn't synonymous with me. I couldn't regale her with flowery prose like, "you are my life now" or "death that hath sucked the honey of thy breath hath had no power yet upon thy beauty" and expect her to fall at my feet. Expect everything to magically absolve and the clouds to part and my life to finally make sense.

I wasn't a fool; I knew it would not work like that, most especially not with her. But we could make it work; I was willing to go as slow as needed. I knew she kept secrets from me; I was aware that there was so much we didn't know about each other. And I didn't even know how to broach sex with her . . . all things considered. But she was all I ever thought about. I was willing to give it a shot—to try anything. There was no denying my "reputation" considering relationships and fidelity; I would not doubt any trepidation on her part to embark on something other than a friendship at this time. Most especially with me. But I'd be lying if I said that was all I wanted.

I would not lie to myself. Not anymore.

As much as I knew I shouldn't, as wrong as it was, I couldn't help feeling free.

There was so much to that feeling. Everything based around it. I didn't know if it was even permissible to feel this way. Yet still, with the guilt it brought, it wasn't enough to stop the actual euphoria that built within me at a chance at things I had never dreamed of experiencing. The most radical of them was happiness. Because I thought I was happy; there was never any doubt of this before, but to actually think you were happy and be happy were two very different concepts completely. That entire notion was something I wasn't aware of. Since you could not truly be happy until you let yourself be, until you realized that you deserved it and you wanted it.

And I did want it. God, how I wanted it.

I would have an honest chance at having an honest friendship with her, and one day, quite possibly, if I played my cards correctly—if I were fortunate enough—something more. Maybe I would ask her to a movie or dinner on a night that she didn't work. I wondered if that would seem too forward so soon.

If she were away from all of this, maybe we could finally talk. She could tell me what her real name was and why she was working in a place like this when clearly she didn't want to be. I wondered about her family. Quite possibly, she had bills to pay and she felt trapped. Whatever the issue was, I could slowly help her with it, if at least to provide support. Whatever aspect of her life that she would let me have, I would take and make myself of service to her. But I didn't want to press too soon, too quickly.

I didn't want to make her feel as if I demeaned her, that I was somehow above her because of her choices. If anything, I knew all too well the repercussions of ill-made choices. But if in any way I were able to slowly become a permanent fixture in her life, then we could find solutions that didn't deal with this type of environment—these choices. And even if she wouldn't say it, I knew that was what she would want.

More than anything, I recognized that I needed to deny my desires. As much as I could play the gentleman role, there were a vast number of other things I wanted with her . . . things that weren't gentlemanly in the slightest. My fingers burned to touch her again; my lips were as if they had lost all moisture since our kiss and she were the only Chapstick around. Not to mention what one look at her body did to mine. However, I had already made so many mistakes—not just with her—that I knew I would have to ignore those reactions and instincts.

Just . . . one step at a time. Friendship and support.

My knee kept bouncing from my anxiety and nerves as I tumbled through the constant thoughts that I'd come to entertain as of recent. Not surprisingly, most—if not all—revolved around her. Excitement rippled from me like waves. How could I not be excited? It was liberating; this would be the first time I could be with her without strings, without guilt, knowing that I wasn't hurting anyone. I had to mentally scold myself in a reminder not to sweep her into a bone-crushing hug . . . another kiss . . . the minute she walked through that door. And I would do it, if it weren't for the fact that I didn't think she would approve of it.

Slowly, my thoughts wandered to the first time I had had her, as that was what it was. I certainly couldn't say the first time I had met her, because that night was not her at all. She was so very different than the role she played here at the club, and I knew that I wouldn't ever want that from her. Something false and unresponsive, dormant . . . dead. I remembered it then, clear as day, the look in her eyes as she rode me that first time: there was a death in them. And I swore that I would bring her back from that; that was something I never wanted to see from her again. I would hate myself for allowing it to continue, regardless of what I had allowed that first time. Then, I knew and I didn't care. My eyes saw the detachment in hers, and yet I did nothing. Just another error I'd have to eradicate.

Wiping my mind of any negative thoughts, I smiled, as this wasn't a time to think of anything negative. Not when the future had so many possibilities. Those thoughts brought with them the look of her face. I remembered her smile, seeing her perfectly and utterly captivating in my mind. Nothing had ever been as beautiful. And I honestly couldn't think of anything that ever would again.

When the doorknob turned, my smile grew exponentially, and I had to physically restrain my knee in my grip. I made sure to wear jeans; I think she liked them—always subconsciously playing with the seam. Her eyes met mine as she entered. God, those eyes. Like an open book.

She stayed by the now closed door with her hand still on the knob, almost as if she was clawing into it—or it into her. Confusion and disappointment scrawled across her face, and I hated that she still doubted that I would want anything but the real her.

But what left the air screaming in my lungs was the look of actual pain that crossed her face briefly.

What happened?

"You, I just want the real you," I said quickly, as a reminder, ignoring the tightening in my chest. Something was off . . . but it had to be just my mind playing tricks on me. It had to.

I stared back at her small figure against the door as if my life depended on it . . . my world. My eyes roamed over every facet of her body, her skin, her face, her hair: Her. Yet she hadn't moved, and my stomach clenched along with my chest.

There was a shift of something indistinguishable in her deep brown eyes as her jaw tightened. Her face was glacial and unreadable as she turned from the door. But instead of heading toward me and sitting across from me like she always had, she went to the wall across from me. I was so lost in what could possibly be different this time that words escaped me. She opened the cabinet along the dark wall and was looking for something.

"Wha—what are you doing?" I asked out of the curious hesitation that was building. What was she doing? She couldn't . . . .

The muscles in her back visibly tensed and the small, pink vinyl outfit she was wearing crinkled. She was a dancer tonight. I never watched that anymore and hated it on so many levels. The fact that she hated it being the biggest reason not to watch; instead I would wait back here for her to finish.

"I'm getting ready for you baby." Her voice oozed seduction.

No.

The world fell off its axis. My world . . . my hopes . . . my stomach . . . dropped. And like a bolt of lightning, everything was illuminated, and the scorching pain shocked my nervous system. She was reverting back. She was pushing me away. My elation plummeted, and I felt my throat constrict in a way that left me gasping.

"Stop it. Just . . . stop whatever you're doing. And come sit with me," I pleaded, my words, my voice . . . my soul begging her to not do this. Not now, not to us.

"If that's what you want, baby," she purred. But it didn't escape my notice that she had already slipped a condom into the back of her skin-tight, hot pink, practically nonexistent shorts.

"Why are you doing this?" My eyes searched hers frantically, willing to pull her back. Needing to. But instead she quickly pulled off her slinky top. And I gulped roughly.

Don't look. Don't look. Don't look.

Of course, I fucking looked. Shit.

My hand flew to my eyes to offer some barrier to what my eyes wouldn't have torn away from otherwise. The rubbing from my thumb did little to mask what was happening.

"Don't do this," I breathed helplessly. My eyes bore viciously into my palm, trying to find some form of clarity. I had honestly felt helpless; I didn't understand why she was doing this, and I didn't know what to do to make it right again . . . but I wasn't jumping to leave either.

Roughly, I shook my head.

Fuck.

She didn't answer me or even acknowledge me as she made her way to where I was still sitting. Cautiously, my hand fell, and I watched with doubtful eyes, trying with all my might to stare only at her face. It left me vulnerable because I didn't know what her hands were doing. Soon enough, I felt them on my ankle removing my shoes and socks.

I wanted to groan when her fingers touched my skin, not ignoring the way her rub insinuated so much more. I wanted to scream because her fingers insinuated more against my ankle.

Her eyes, that dead lackluster from before, never tore from mine. Yet they were different this time. There was a twitch to her cheek, a snarl at the tips of her lips. The intensity of her anger and hate clawed at my throat. Why hate? What had gone wrong? What had I done wrong? Then I wondered just who she found herself hating more in that moment.

"Just . . . just . . . STOP," I said, pulling my leg up and away from her. I brought the other with it and sat against the wall.

Her jaw tightened. With a sharp condescending nod, she rose and glared my way before she started dancing.

I couldn't say with any truth what exactly passed through my mind. My body, however, was on high alert. My own jaw clenched; my stomach jumped; my heart raced; and my cock twitched.

Fucking shit. What the hell was going on? Why this; why now? Why was it wrong? Why did it have to feel so wrong and yet so right?

This wasn't right. It was a fucking labyrinth and I was lost as all shit. I wanted this, didn't I? My tongue licked my lips, and I only then realized how dry they were. Somehow—and I have no clue how—I knew my entire being rejected this vehemently. I couldn't understand why she was doing this. Had I given her any indication that was what I wanted, like this? Why was she pushing me away; was that what this was?

Why?

When her breasts passed in front of my face, her nipples so close to my lips that I could have easily tasted them, everything shattered. All the conflicting emotions running through me, what my mind and body wanted, the thoughts that were incomprehensible just exploded like a bowling ball to a glass floor. I'd had enough. Abruptly, I pushed off the wall and stood, pushing her away from me, probably rougher than I intended since she stumbled. She stood in the middle of the room, shaking her head, before she returned to swiveling her hips and bending over in front of me.

Moving out of the way of her ass, I turned and grabbed her shoulders roughly, pulling her to stand, to meet me dead on.

"Why are you doing this?" But as those words passed from my lips, something flashed before her eyes that left me speechless.

Resolve.

I dropped my hold on her instantly, as if she were a hot plate scorching my fingers. My breathing increased and I stood gaping. Resolve. Why?

How did this happen?

Not an hour ago, everything seemed to be finally going right in my world, and now nothing made sense. Of all the possible emotions that I expected to find in her expressive brown eyes at that moment, resolve never crossed my mind. What would she have to guard with conviction . . . this firm purpose?

What was she playing at? Was she toying with me?

Doubt crept in like the morning fog over Lake Michigan. Was she toying with me the whole time? Was any part of my experience real with her? Crushing me in an emotion I didn't want to acknowledge, I thought about our kiss; that had felt real. How could things have changed? And why?

My hands went to my hair and pulled at the roots. I had no idea what to do. What does one do in a situation such as this? Hands calloused in guilt and shame rubbed my face, and yet her hips still swayed. I wished more than anything in that moment that I knew her name. As I refused to call her by her stage name. Somehow I knew that would only fuel this fire she had started.

What do I do?

Should I leave her? What would that solve? I needed to understand why she had chosen to do this to me now, to us. And then it hit me like a crash landing that there never was any us.

My frail grip on everything loosened, and I felt as if I was falling. There had never been an "us." Simply my thoughts of what could be. Was this her way of telling me that she wanted nothing more than this from me?

If this was all that she would offer me, could I take it? Would I? I wanted to. So why not?

But she had said herself this brings her no pleasure. Then why? I couldn't understand it. Nothing was making any sense.

"Talk to me, please . . . . Is this . . . what you want? This . . . this isn't you," I said, crossing my arms over my chest. I didn't necessarily trust them.

"You don't know me, baby."

My eyes widened. Yeah, I definitely had enough.

She was lying. It honestly didn't matter to whom. . . to me, to herself. Either way, she was lying. "You're lying. You know it. I don't care what your reasons are; at least don't fucking lie about it."

Anger stopped her from swaying, and her dark brown eyes covered in black make-up met my stare. The veins in her forearm grew from the tension in the fist she made. "Get out." She threw her hand up and pointed toward the door.

"I've got no intention of staying. Not when you're like this," I said as I searched for my shoe. Not even bothering with the sock she removed, I put the shoe back on and stuffed the sock in my pocket.

"THIS is how I am! You should get used to it." Her anger, her lies were a match to the spark that was growing in me. Even though I knew anger probably wouldn't solve anything, she brought such a reaction out of me. I doubted everything. But more than anything, I was just as enraged with her for taking my simple happiness from me when I had just found it.

"Continue lying to yourself. I don't care. I'm fucking leaving." I moved toward the door as I heard her kick the floor bag on the ground. And I found myself wishing she'd just let me in—tell me something. Why was she so angry at this—at us? What was going on? "I hope tomorrow you'll be back to normal. Because I don't want to fight with you."

"No. I told you I don't want to see you again." Her thick brown hair bounced off her shoulders as she spun around to face me, her eyes narrowed. That stopped me.

"Is that what this is?"

"Don't ever come back here again. I've already told you."

In four steps I crossed the room to stand over her. She tilted her head up to glare at me and I burrowed into those deep brown eyes, my heart, my hopes, my anger, any fight in me left at the door that I almost exited. "Is that what this is?" I asked again, softer.

Her hands wrapped around her bare chest that she stuck out. Everything about her stance defied me, challenged me, conveyed strength in her resolve. She didn't want to ever see me again. And I would have believed it if it wasn't for the tremble of her lips and the lower of her eyes that I loomed over.

Gently, I grabbed her shoulder, closing the distance between us, my eyes pleading as I continued to try to read her. Her breathing picked up, yet she didn't back away. She stood her ground, her heart racing as she looked up at me, defiant still. Softly, my hand that wasn't on her shoulder traced her cheek.

"Do you not want to see me anymore?" I heard the knot in her throat as she tried to clear it. Her breath caught, as sticky as everything in the room. And everything became warmer. My fingers continued to run along her jaw to her chin. A soft flutter of her eyelashes and her strong stance wavered. "Tell me, and I'll leave."

She leaned into my caress; it was subtle, but it wasn't imagined. Her eyes closed and it was almost as if her body leaned into mine. It was a fact that she had been lying before, and still I wondered why. But before I could ask, she opened her eyes and abruptly pulled out away from my touch.

"Get out. I don't want to see you anymore." Her words lacked the fire from before, but she still held that resolve that she first had. She was stronger than anyone I ever knew. What she had to be strong for, I didn't know. And I only hoped that one day I would, but it was obvious today wouldn't be that day.

"Okay. I'm leaving. But please don't lie to yourself . . . to me. Not about this, about us. I know you feel it too."

Nothing in her stance or expression acknowledged my words; she just stood stiffly in the middle of the room, waiting. With a knot in my throat, I turned away and headed for the door. As I made my way to the door, I knew that nothing was as it seemed. There was now no doubt in my mind that she was lying. But why would she feel the need to lie? What really was going on? And just what would I do to make it right?

However, it was her last words that stopped me once again.

"Don't ever come back this time."

Turning to her, I was gaping. "Wha—how will I see you again?"

"You won't." The fight I had thought I lost apparently wasn't as far gone as imagined.

"No."

"What?" It was as if that one word were millions. It was "are you kidding me" and "get out" and "fuck you" all in one, and she practically spat it at me. My eyes narrowed.

"You heard me. I'll come back when I want, after you've had time to get over whatever this is," I said, waving my hand in front of me, dismissing whatever behavior she was exuding.

Like a bullet from a gun, she shot at me. Her small hands left her chest and shoved me in mine. The force from it was unexpected, and the thud against the door echoed even over the music.

"What is your problem?"

Your lying. Your attitude. Your behavior. Take your pick, my mind answered her. But I said nothing as I met her glare for glare.

"What part of 'I don't want to see you again' do you not understand?" she spoke through gritted teeth.

"Apparently the same part of 'you're lying' that you don't." She shoved me more; her small breasts swung in the fury. Something in her eyes sparked as she caught my stare. It was dark and I knew that it wasn't going to be something good.

"Why come back if you can't even fuck what you pay for?" My eyes widened just as my jaw tightened. A look of complete contempt passed over her face, and I wanted nothing more than to shake it off of her. Rage built deep in me and I wanted so badly to unleash it.

"Fuck you," I said, shoving away from her and reaching for the door again. I wasn't going to continue playing whatever game she was. I should have left before. My anger was reaching lethal levels. Before things got out of hand, I'd need to leave. Blindly, I clawed for the doorknob.

"You've done that already. And if I remember correctly, not even well."

The fierceness with which I clutched the knob would have broken it if it weren't metal. My back clenched and every muscle in my body constricted. I stopped and took one deep breath before opening the door and leaving. The slam that announced my exit shattered the hinge.

I wanted to get this out earlier. SORRY chicos, but I think I've solved my major glitches so hopefully I'll be able to get out the chapters in consitency now. LOL, woo hoo. SO I just wanted to thank everyone for sticking with me. I appreciate it more than you guys know!

This chapter's question:

Do you feel like Edward should pursue something with Bella? If you do, why? If you don't, why?

or

How much do you hate me for making Bella take that turn in the story?

I want to thank those who are reading and supporting this endeavor!

Please leave me some love and let me know what you think, it makes all this hard work worth it! Thanks! Xxooxx