Stephenie Meyer owns the Twilight characters. The rest of the story here is mine. Don't steal (plagiarism is stealing). My friend u2shay got her story stolen this week - the nasty little thief took it down after being confronted, so that's good - but still. Stealing is so low class.

Sarasumbrella and silentnc beta and so much more for this - I've given Sarah quite a workout with the regular chapters plus the EPOV - but isn't EPOV the best kind of workout? silentnc beta'd like a bazillion chapters to help me out before her baby makes an appearance - that's going above and beyond, too. Love you ladies. Love.

CHAPTER 24: Face Off

We walked out of the arena, his equipment bag over one shoulder and his other arm around me. Edward nuzzled gently against my ear, telling me in that soft, silky, cultured voice all the dirty things he wanted to do to me while I wore the garters that matched my bra. I giggled and shivered, heat spreading through me despite the enthusiastic sex we just had in the ice arena, of all places. It never failed to turn me on, those filthy words coming out of his mouth in that velvet voice, and dammit, he knew it. We swung around the corner to where the Volvo was parked, and suddenly his entire body stiffened. It took me a second to see three figures hulking by the hood of the car. His night vision was so much better than mine, plus I was still feeling slightly drunk from our escapade in the equipment room.

"Lucard," he said curtly. His arm tightened briefly around my shoulders, silently telling me to stay close even as he lowered it to his side and dropped his equipment bag to the ground. Alarm washed over me when I realized it was to keep his hands free. What the hell?

"Cullen," the middle figure responded in a quiet, almost jovial, voice. "I see you have your cunt with you. Cullen's Cunt." The way he said it, almost caressingly, was even more hideous than the horrible word itself. "Has quite a ring to it, don't you think?"

I instinctively reached out and placed my hand on Edward's back as he started toward the speaker. Fury was evident in every line of his big body. He brought himself up short when he felt my touch, tense and quivering with rage. My head was spinning. I had no idea what was going on, but it wasn't good. This was the guy he had scrapped with all during the game. He was the one that had delivered the last cheap hit from behind that had caused the cut on Edward's forehead.

I saw a flash of teeth in the darkness, and knew this Lucard had seen Edward's reaction. He slowly tipped his head back and inhaled dramatically. "Ahhh. I can smell her, Cullen. You two have been very naughty in the locker room, haven't you? Is she any good?"

Edward lunged forward. My hand fisted uselessly in his coat and he tore away like I wasn't even there. The other two large hulks with Lucard stepped forward to block his path.

"You won't touch her." Edward's voice was serious and soft, raising the hairs on the back of my neck. He never took his focus away from Lucard, his eyes narrowed and intense, his shoulders and arms rigid and straining with the effort to control himself. "I'll kill you before I let you touch her."

Lucard tsked, and I realized he was enjoying this. "Temper, temper, Cullen. I just wanted to congratulate you on a game well played, and to make sure you weren't too badly injured." His eyes flickered to the bandage over Edward's brow, and then moved curiously to me when I made a hesitant, nervous move toward Edward, seeking reassurance. "Aren't you going to introduce me to your pretty little cunt?"

Edward's fists clenched at his sides. He was literally trembling with suppressed violence. I glanced at the three very large males across from us and knew this was going to end badly. "Edward," I whispered in a scared, shaky voice, taking a step forward and touching his back again tentatively. I could feel the muscles in his body tense and ripple as he fought the instinct to attack and protect.

"Get in the car, Bella."

"Edward, don't -"

"Get in the car!"

I started in surprise; I'd never heard that tone of voice from him, especially directed at me. I moved slowly and almost gasped in relief as I realized Edward was deliberately matching each of my steps backward, keeping himself between me and the other men. He wouldn't leave me unprotected, not even for a moment. Heady relief flooded through me as I realized we might actually get out of here without a really horrible – and unequal – fight. He moved with me to the passenger side of his car, settling me safely inside, never taking his eyes from Lucard. He shut the door firmly behind me, and I watched, helpless and fearful, as he stalked back around to the driver's side. I wasn't sure what he would do now that I was in the car. I divided my attention between Edward and the other three figures as he swooped down to grab his bag and place it in the backseat. He paused as he opened the driver's door, gripping the frame tightly and giving the group one last, frustrated glare.

"Lucard." His voice rang with contempt and fury. It was a warning and an acknowledgement all at once. He got in the car and sat staring out the windshield for a brief second before he backed up and pulled out with a squeal of tires, handling his beloved Volvo roughly for the first time in my memory.

The only sounds breaking the tense silence in the car were the muted whine and rumble of the engine and our accelerated breathing – mine from fear and his from rage. A couple of miles down the road he slammed on the brakes and screeched to a stop, pulling over to the gravel shoulder. He leaned back against the headrest, squeezing his eyes shut. I stared at him apprehensively, my brain trying to process what had just happened. He hit the steering wheel hard, twice, and I jumped.

"Edward...what…who…" Was that my voice, so breathless and wheezy? It must be. I was still terrified. I had been so sure they were going to hurt him, badly. And then start on me.

He pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and finger, something he only did when he was really agitated. I guessed this qualified. He let out a gust of air, and his jaw tightened.

"James Lucard. He goes to Port Angeles High and plays for their team, obviously. We had a, uh, run-in a couple of years ago, and don't really get along." If I wasn't still reeling I would have snorted at that understatement. There was something more going on here, but I was still too shocked to understand.

He hit the steering wheel once more, and I jumped again. "It's taking everything I have not to turn around and go after him," he gritted through tightly clenched teeth. "I can't stand it!" He took a couple of quick, deep breaths, trying to get himself under control. "But I can't, not with you here. Can't," he muttered, almost to himself. "Can't risk it. Fuck!" He bent his head to the steering wheel and pressed his forehead to where his fingers gripped tightly, his knuckles white with strain.

I reached out until my hand hovered over his shoulder. I wasn't sure if it was safe to touch him. His entire body was tense, on edge. He caught the motion out of the corner of his eye and turned his head to smile grimly at me. I could see him struggling with his anger. He reached out with a gusty sigh to grip my hand tightly. "Distract me."

"What?" I shut my eyes and brought his knuckles to my mouth, relieved he had mastered the urge to go after those guys.

"Distract me. Say something so I don't turn around and go back there."

"Um, we should get you to the hospital before your mom and dad come looking for you?" The gash above his eye had started to bleed again, what with him banging his head against the steering wheel. I could see small specks of bright red against the white strips of bandage.

He gave a short laugh, shaking his head and turning my hand to place a careful kiss to my palm. I knew the worst was over when he added a warm, wet lick to the center. "I'm sorry, Bella. I'm sorry you had to see that tonight. I never wanted you to be in that situation." His green eyes met mine. "It scared the holy fuck out of me, you being there. It was the only thing that stopped me...I wanted to…I should have…"

"It's okay, Edward. I'm so glad you didn't do anything stupid. It wasn't your fault. " I shuddered, thinking how close we had come to a different ending, a different purpose for visiting the hospital tonight.

The corner of his mouth kicked up grimly at that, but he sighed and put the car in drive. He pulled back out onto the street, keeping my hand firmly in his.

"I guess we should swing by the hospital so my dad can take a look at this." He took his hand off the steering wheel to brush it over the cut on his forehead, grimacing when he saw fresh blood on his fingertips.

"Does it hurt?" I asked in concern.

"No, I've had worse. It probably does need a couple of stitches, though."

My stomach lurched, and I instinctively pressed a hand across my abdomen. He smirked. "You can wait in the car if you want."

I shook my head and took a deep breath. "No," I said in a firm voice. "I'll be okay."

"No, you won't, and I don't want to have to worry about you fainting. Should I take you home first?"

"No," I said emphatically. Not only did I not want to leave him by himself at the hospital – I was nothing if not a supportive girlfriend, damn it – but I also didn't want to leave him alone so he wouldn't be tempted to go after James Lucard. I knew his dad would be there, but I was afraid that if he had to wait by himself, if he had time to think about it…I cast a sideways glance at his tense form. The muscles in his jaw were jumping and flexing, his fingers still white on the steering wheel. Oh, yeah. He'd go after him.

I didn't relax until we were in the hospital, until they paged Dr. Cullen, and he had appeared to take us into a small exam room. I scrunched myself into a chair in the corner while his dad removed the bandage, cringing a little when Edward gave a small hiss of pain as it was pulled from his forehead. His green eyes darted to mine, softening in sympathy. I felt terrible. Here he was about to get stitches, and he was feeling bad for me. I pulled my knees up to my chin and managed a smile for him.

Dr. Cullen pulled a tray toward him that was covered with a blue cloth. On it I could see needles and syringes, scissors, suture, tweezer-looking things, and piles of gauze. I blanched. Edward kept his eyes on mine as his dad cleaned the small but gaping wound on his forehead. I jumped to my feet as Dr. Cullen picked up the syringe and brought it toward his eye.

"Do you want juice? I'll go get juice!" I blurted, spinning toward the door. "Be right back!" I could hear both of them chuckling as I ran out of the room.

I made it about halfway down the hall before I stopped my mad dash, bracing against the wall and holding my stomach until I was sure I wasn't going to throw up on the floor. A couple of nurses gave me concerned looks, but I just smiled with what I hoped was reassurance before I stood straight. I passed my hands over my clammy face and staggered to a chair that was conveniently placed outside of another exam room. I sat with my head between my knees and shook. I knew it was as much a delayed reaction from what had happened in the ice arena parking lot as much as it was the thought of needles poking through his skin and him hurting. I felt better after a few minutes, and thought that a drink probably wasn't a bad idea. I sat up, rubbing my damp palms along my jeans, and another nurse came up to me.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." I managed a small smile. "My boyfriend is getting stitches, and I thought I'd bring him a juice or something."

She squeezed my shoulder comfortingly. "Sure thing. Come with me."

A little while later I returned to the exam room, poking my head in cautiously and holding out two foil covered plastic juice containers as an offering. Dr. Cullen was smoothing a medium sized band-aid over Edward's eyebrow.

"All done," he assured me as I moved into the room. He pushed the tray with the nasty looking instruments into the corner.

Edward grinned at me and nodded his head at the juices in my hands. "For me?"

"Yeah." I absently handed him one while I opened the other and chugged it down, examining the bandage covering his wound. He smiled, watching me with amusement. "Wow. That doesn't look too bad."

"Six stitches," he informed me cheerfully, and I regretted drinking the juice so fast.

"Six?"

"Yeah." He shrugged, jumping down off of the exam bed and reaching for his jacket. "I'll be a little mini-Frankenstein for a while." He held his arms out stiffly in front of him and staggered around. I scowled and smacked him – not funny. "Dad says it won't leave too bad of a scar."

"A scar?" Okay, so now I was just repeating his words. My brain had yet to come back on-line. He had stitches. In his face.

"He can just add it to the collection." Dr. Cullen shook his head. "It'll keep that mug of his from being too pretty."

Um, yeah, probably not. Edward started to waggle his eyebrows at me, but winced when it tugged at the stitches. He touched the bandage gingerly, scowling carefully.

"Are you heading home?" his dad asked.

Edward glanced at the clock. "Yeah, I guess we probably should. I'll drop Bella off at her place, maybe stay for a few, and then be home."

"Okay, then." His dad winked at me. "Thanks for bringing him in, Bella. I'll see you later."

I glanced curiously at Edward's calm face. I couldn't tell if he had told his dad about what had happened in the parking lot at the ice rink. We walked out of the hospital, and as we approached his car I paused and put my hand on his arm.

"Did you tell your dad about James Lucard?" I asked. "About what he did after the game?"

He sighed, looking away before wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me against him. "I mentioned it. I'm hoping it was just a one-time thing, because he was in Forks for the hockey game tonight. If you see him again, Bella, anywhere, even from a distance, promise me you'll let me know right away. Or let your dad know. James Lucard – he's crazy. Don't mess around if you see him, okay? Just let one of us know."

"Okay." I squeezed him tight, and then pulled back to peer up into his pretty face. "What did happen tonight, Edward?"

"Well, like I said, he and I don't get along, for a lot of reasons. He's a bully, but a dangerous one. There's no reason for him to be in Forks after tonight, so I don't imagine we'll be seeing him again, but just in case you do..."

"I promise I'll let you know," I assured him. I examined his face carefully, but his features were calm and relaxed. I leaned up on tiptoe to give him a soft kiss. "Do you want me to drive?"

He started to roll his eyes, but grimaced at the discomfort the action caused. This was going to be a fun couple of weeks. "No. I'm fine. Let's get you home. I'm sorry we had to miss the party."

I shrugged as we got in the car. "No big deal. I'd better call Alice, though, and let her know you're okay." I dug my cell phone out of my pocket and hit the speed dial button for her number. After all the crazy events of the night, the only thing I really wanted was to be home – safe, secure, and together.

Join us next time, when Alice asks the age -old question:

"Is what they say about hockey players true, Bella?"