A|N:

Yes, I am still here. I hope you are, too.

I'm sorry for the delay. I'm still here. I'm still writing, however slow. I will finish this story. There will be closure.

I've said it before; I'll say it again. I have been slowly responding to reviews. Please know I read each one, and I appreciate them more than I can tell. Sometimes, when I get overwhelmed with writing, I reread them for some inspiration. Thank you all so much.

Thanks so much, Strider and Shasta. You rock for beta'ing this.

Sherryola rec'd this story on her lovely fic, Seeing Bella. I've started it; it's great and I strongly recommend reading it. No words I could say here can do it justice. Just go read! Thanks so much, dear. I really appreciate your kind words. :D

I do not own any of these characters, or the original plot to the Twilight Series. Everything publicly recognizable belongs to their owners. I am doing this only for the pleasure I gain from writing and I am not associated with anyone or anything to do with the Twilight Series. There is no financial benefit, whatsoever, though I may wish there were.

SUMMARY (I was told that not everyone could get to it on the forum so here it is here):

Bella woke up lost, alone and afraid. She wandered but found no one until Alice, Esme and Carlisle found her. They took her into their home. Edward reacted as expected and ran to Alaska. Bella went to stay in the cottage, where she found some information on an Isabella Swan, but strangely that information disappeared. Edward returned home and the Cullens convinced Bella to return home.

Bella was found to have a strange talent, so the Denali coven came to meet her and find out more about her gift. It seems our little Bella is a shield, but that she can also echo other's gifts. So, she can see the visions Alice sees and hear Edward's thoughts. But it's a weaker version of their abilities, and she needs skin contact.

Bella has learned about vampire mating, but she doesn't believe that Edward feels that way about her. So, she has decided to sit back and watch what happens with him. She's spent a lot of time with him, learning to drive, learning to play piano and learning a tiny bit about her past.

Then she saw Tyler get into an accident and rushed to help, falling and blacking out.

Bella had fallen and hit her head, landing herself in the hospital. When she was about to leave, the chief of police showed up. There was some sort of connection to him, though she isn't sure why. Then there was a blowup between Edward and Bella. They both said some things that probably shouldn't have been said. Bella ended up running from the house.

Bella ran off in a tiff, eventually winding up in La Push, where she met Jake. After a few days of not speaking to Edward, she decided to do something and came up with an excuse to see Charlie.

So she met and spent time with Charlie, noticing a picture of a woman whom she closely resembled while at his house.

Weeks passed and Edward paid her no attention. Finally, at the end of last chapter, Mike asked her to the dance. Edward couldn't handle that, so he finally spoke up again. Their first communication after the "hiatus" was strained. Later in the day, Edward apologizes… just as he's about to tell her something REALLY important, there's a bang at the door…

Alice takes Bella away to the cottage where she drops a bombshell.

Edward comes to find them and tells Bella about the wolves.

Dum! Dum! Dum!

So, there's this meeting. The wolves tell them that they're watching (just like Big Brother) so everyone needs to be careful.

Peter and Charlotte come for a lovely stay, so B has to be out of the house, just in case. Edward takes her to PA, where they share a lovely meal and a jaunt in the rain.

OMG! OMG!

There was a kiss, then a dance. After Bella went to spend some time in Port Angeles.

Onto our story…

When I turned around, no one was there—well, no one who was looking for me. To my right, there was a young mother, looking frazzled as she tried to wrestle a small child into the backseat of a stroller while handing the infant in the front a bottle. In the far distance, a couple walked hand-in-hand, enjoying the rare sunlight. Various other people milled around, but no one was paying any attention to me, nor was there anyone having a happy reunion.

Had I been mistaken? Perhaps I was hearing things. I'd been sure a woman had called me.

Shrugging, I turned back to the water and watched it ripple under the pier. Something caught my eye as it moved under the platform, darting out of sight. I leaned forward, balancing precariously on the metal railing to catch another view of the object. Something compelled me to push myself beyond the safe limits of my balance. I needed to see what that flash had been.

Suddenly, I was in another place.

Though I couldn't actually feel the temperature, I was sure it was a warmer, drier place—it just felt somehow brighter. I was on another pier, still leaning over the railing, which must have been much larger than the one I'd just been standing on. It dug into my stomach as my legs swung beneath me, not even touching the ground. As before with the dance studio, everything was in sharp focus, so clear—almost as real as life—but yet in some way screaming that it was in my head.

"Bella?" That same woman's voice—the one from moments before—called out.

I didn't turn, as I should have. Instead I moved farther forward, pushing against the bottom rail with my toes.

"Bella? Bella?" The woman sounded angry… or nervous, repeating my name in a tone of hysterical panic. "Bella, what are you doing?"

I tried to turn and face her, knowing I'd be in big trouble if I didn't, but my foot caught on the upright rail, causing me to wobble and tip. Just as I was about to fall over, someone grabbed me around the waist and pulled me against them.

"Bella, you scared me," that same woman growled at me. "Don't you ever do that to me again!"

I was turned around and looked up to see the dark-haired woman, the one who starred in most of my memories. Her face was paler than usual. She looked like she was about to pass out. Behind her, the sun was higher in the sky than I was used to in Forks. That was why it was so bright.

"Sowwy, Mommy," a girl's high-pitched voice—my voice?—said. "I won't do it again."

"You're right; you won't." She frowned, her blue eyes piercing, her nose flaring with each breath. "Grandma and I were so worried about you." She nodded behind her, and I looked to see an older woman standing there.

The woman had dark eyes—just like mine—and graying hair that had once been a similar color to mine—even with most of the color leached out, that dark brown was still recognizable strewn around her face . Her eyes sparkled, though I could tell she was trying to keep a stern face.

"I'm sowwy, Mommy." I twisted my head to look around her, focusing on the woman beyond. "Sowwy, Gwamma Mawie."

Her nervous laughter filled the air, and my mother reached and tousled my hair. "I love you, baby. I don't know what I'd do without you."

As with every other memory, the image faded away to nothing, my mother, grandmother, and a younger me disappearing before my eyes. Once again, I was left standing alone in the middle of a nearly empty pier in Port Angeles, staring at the water, while I attempted to hold onto pictures and people that seemed to sift through my fingers as easily as sand. I sighed and turned around, leaning back against the rails.

Though the memories now seemed to be returning at a rapid pace, nothing held any particular interest, nothing had any clues of who I was or what I'd been through. They were mere vignettes of a somewhat non-eventful life—a life that could have belonged to anyone.

The only thing that was familiar was the woman. If this woman wasn't the one in Charlie's picture, she was a dead ringer. Maybe his ex had a twin sister or a relative who looked exactly like her. Could Marie have been her mother? My dad's? Maybe nothing to them at all. Perhaps, I had just been sucked out of my world and into some sort of alternate universe where everyone had a doppelganger.

I laughed at myself, a tinge of hysteria lacing my tone. I was really letting my imagination run wild. Next I'd be buying books on how to develop my ESP, or worse, I'd be going to carnivals to hear about my past lives and have my fortune told. Abruptly, I stopped laughing and looked around to check that there wasn't anyone paying attention. I was sure I'd made an idiot of myself the last few minutes, first my blanking out and then my out-of-place laughing. They'd have me taken away if I continued down that path.

Luckily, no one seemed to be watching. They were all too busy milling about, involved with their own problems. They all had their own lives.; I wasn't even a blip on their radar. Was this true about the people from my past life? No one seemed to be looking for me. Surely, I would have found them had that been true. But maybe, just maybe, I was too far from them. Maybe they were hunting for me, and I was outside their search radius.

It seemed like my faulty recollections were all I had to give me hope. And despite everything, I still had hope.

I took a deep breath and pushed the negative thoughts aside. I had to stop focusing on the bad. I shouldn't be disappointed that the latest memory held no clues; I should be excited. I had just regained another part of my life, no matter how miniscule. Perhaps if they kept coming at this pace, I'd have something of merit come through soon. It was with this thought that I began my walk back, eager to get back to the hotel and tell Edward.

"… and so, that was it." The afterglow wore off quickly, before I even finished telling Edward about my experience down at the pier. "I know it's not much, but it's something."

"Something," he echoed, then set his lips in a tight smile that didn't reach his eyes. "I'm not—"

"I know it doesn't give a clue about anything, really, but it's my mom and grandmother. I have them, at least. I mean, I didn't have Marie before… or the pier. It's a start."

"True," he acknowledged. His smile was sincere, but somehow sad at the same time. "It must be difficult to lose everything. I, at least, have some memories, however blurry they may be."

"Still… I guess it doesn't lead me any closer to... well, to me."

"Come here." He reached out an arm to me.

I traversed the distance as quickly as possible, snuggling into his hard chest.

He pulled me closer, wrapping his arms around and hugging me. His other arm brushed against my fingertips, and I briefly heard his wish to be warm before he pulled his arm away.

I wanted to tell him that he was warm, at least in the ways that mattered, but for some reason, I didn't. Instead, I became a little more introspective, choosing to think about my lost loved ones. Now that I had faces, it seemed more difficult not to know them, not to know me. I stepped back when Edward released his grip and looked at the smooth collar of his white button down, unable to really see it before me.

Edward's cool palm came to rest on my cheek and ear, his fingers wrapping around to the back of my head. He lifted my face to his, and bent down, gently pressing his lips against mine. A groan escaped as I wondered how he always knew what to do to distract me.

It was a brief peck, but it brought me back to the moment. I was on a mini vacation with a loved one I had now. I should be joyful for what I had, not mourning what was lost, what I didn't even really know in the first place. Sure, I had to find out, but it shouldn't overshadow how fortunate I was at that moment.

After the kiss, Edward pulled back and grasped my hand in his. We will find out everything, he whispered in his thoughts, never taking his eyes from mine. Beyond his conviction, there was an undertone of fear… or grief—or disbelief—playing just beyond where I could fully hear. It was background to what he allowed, a simple hum that I could only understand in part.

I sighed, calling him on his lie. Do you think so?

He nodded. Yes.

Then why do you seem so unconvinced? Why are you sad?

He smiled tightly. Once you find out, Bella, you're going to want to return to your life. You're going to want to leave us—me. His words—especially the last sentence—were barely audible, like he'd fought to keep them to himself, but lost the battle.

In a rush, he dropped my hand and was across the room before I could register his absence.

"I want this for you," he continued, not looking at me. "I want you to be safe... and happy."

"And you think I'd be either, have either, without you?"

"Of course, you would." His words were disdainful, but his ire was not toward me. "I—my presence is the most dangerous thing for you."

"You're wrong." I hoped my conviction rang through in my words.

"Am I?" he asked, his voice almost inaudible. "Really?"

I raised and lowered my head purposely, slowly. "Unmistakably."

He shook his head. "We'll see."

I crossed my arms in front of my chest. "Yes, we will."

Sitting inside on Tuesday, looking at the scenery of the Pacific Northwest, I was hit with the realization that although my relationship with Edward had taken a few steps forward, in some ways, he was right. It was the only thing that had.

I was stagnant… yet again.

I needed to move forward. Sure, it was comfortable in this constant limbo I'd created. But I could no longer live there rather than working toward something that might be difficult. Maybe it was fear. Maybe not. But the symptom was the same: I was floundering.

Though more memories had been coming back, I'd had no recent revelations or information about myself that actually helped me move forward. How had I once again allowed myself to become too comfortable?

That answer was impossible to deny.

Looking across the room to the couch, I caught Edward's eye—I'd taken the chair by one of the large windows, wanting my own space to think while enjoying the unusual sunshine streaming through, warming me. He smiled, and I forced myself to return a facsimile. It didn't work. I couldn't lift the corners of my lips high enough, or maybe it didn't reach my eyes; I couldn't be sure. But his grin faltered in response.

It wasn't his fault, really. He hadn't caused me to sit idle. I'd done that myself. In fact, he had tried to help me interpret my memories, or at the very least understand why the ones I'd regained were full of questions, with so few answers.

Though he had argued the fact, I had been the one to hold back, the one to worry what finding myself would do, what changes it would create for us. I was the one who had allowed myself to remain idle. Now, I couldn't do that anymore.

Besides, I would fight for us once I found out who I was. I wouldn't allow anything to come between us. He was worth far too much. We were worth far too much.

Edward raised an eyebrow, a silent question asked.

"I'll tell you later," I said softly.

His eye roll and huff spoke volumes, even more than his lack of verbal response.

"Just give me time to think?"

He nodded. "Fine, Bella." He looked down to the book in his hands, then back at me, his brows furrowing. "Please don't edit too much." He twisted his lips in a humorous pout.

I laughed. "You always see right through me, anyway."

As I thought about the disjointed memories I had, I lost myself again, focusing on details that always seemed to elude me. There were some strange parts that had to be clues to the greater picture, but we couldn't figure out what. We still needed more… but more what? More information? More memories? Just more.

Once again I was confronted with the fact that I had no idea who I was. Sure, I knew who I'd become in the here and now. But I didn't know my foundation, and this simple fact—that almost everyone took for granted—was becoming more and more important. How was I able to move on if I didn't know me?

Nothing I'd remembered or found had led to any path that could help me get a clear picture. In fact, some of what I remembered wasn't clear at all. Why was that? It wasn't like the memories had been marred by age—some of the differences were during the same memory. Like the one with the piano—how could the woman be so clear? It felt like I could almost touch her. But the man—he was nothing but a blob of color, dark on top and pale on bottom. Even stranger was the fact that the backgrounds kept changing, rolling, switching in between foggy and clear.

As I had done countless times before, I tried to push beyond my limits, to pierce the bubble that surrounded my prior life—my true life—and bring myself back. As usual, I received the same response when I tried to force a memory: nothing.

So I had to go over what little I already had.

It seemed researching myself had brought no further information and waiting for something meaningful to breakthrough hadn't either. I wasn't sure what step to take next.

It was then that I decided to hit a local bookstore the next day, before we went dress shopping. Maybe I'd find something of merit there. I instantly felt lighter. I was finally making a step in the right direction, a path to finding my past, so I could have a future.

"What's got you so happy?" Edward's voice was much closer than it should have been. "It's like someone turned on a light switch."

"Not much," I responded, unable to quell my smile. I looked up to see him standing just in the shadows. He still wouldn't step in the sun in front of me. "Just looking forward to shopping tomorrow."

"You… shopping?" he asked through laughter. "I have a problem believing that would make you happy."

"I guess not." I shrugged. "But It has been a while since I've seen Alice, and… I was just thinking I might go to a nearby bookstore."

"Ah, books. That makes more sense."

I rolled my eyes. "Predictable, huh? But I want to go anyway, and I know Jess and Angela wouldn't want to. Since I'm meeting up with them later, I'll go alone... I guess Alice won't join me? I mean, it is supposed to be sunny tomorrow."

"No, not until later."

"So, I'll meet up with her after," I finished, deciding to bring up a question I'd never had answered. "Will you ever show me?" I hoped I could cadge him into a display at that moment. "It is still somewhat sunny."

"Saturday, remember?" He was gentle, dissuading me in a kind manner. Or was that nerves? Could he be as nervous as I was intrigued?

"Right, Saturday." I sighed. "I guess I can wait three days."

"I know I can."

I shook my head. "I'm sure it's not that bad. What? Do you become a giant animated skeleton, or something?"

"Or something," he confirmed, sarcasm in his words.

"See? I'm sure it won't bother me at all." I smiled, trying to dispel his gloom… and my own.

He walked across the room as I once again turned to my book, enjoying the sun that would be gone all too soon. After a few seconds, soft music began to fill the room.

The familiar piano of Fur Elise surrounded me in comforting, well-known melodies, whisking me off to places not in the pages in front of me. Colors and shapes danced before my eyes, lulling me off to the space between sleep and awake, the place where the most fantastic dreams were reality, where I could have my old life back but also keep everything I loved from this one. As the piece neared its end, I fell, along with the musical runs, deeper into that near dreamland, unable to notice much but the difference in the visions playing before my eyes. The shapes became more substantial, more human.

There was a muffled thump. The book I'd been reading? I didn't care. Sleep beckoned.

The song changed to much richer melody, slow and sensual as the lower notes melted in with the high ones, a flowing sound following. The notes became a thick, regal cushion around my troubled mind, the chords a raft floating me further towards the ocean of sleep.

Once again I found myself reading a book, the very one that I'd had when sitting in the room with Edward. I heard a soft sound to my right and turned toward it.

On the opposite side of a small living room with rich wood floors stood a dark-haired woman, her body swaying to the gentle rhythm of the same song I'd been listening to. Her head rocked along with the rise and fall of the music, her hair and form flowing as the music did. In her hand, she held a cloth that she passed over the sofa table before her. Though she was only cleaning—evidenced by the dusty off-white rag in her hand-she was graceful, like the branches of a weeping willow billowing in a breeze. It was peaceful, this image.

As with all dreams, her surroundings were wispy, insubstantial, sometimes looking like the table was possibly glass with metal legs, at others like a light wood—oak, probably. The room was impossible to define completely and it was not at all necessary to do so.

She wore a dark dress, a timeless piece that could have fit in no matter to which decade she belonged, so I couldn't set an exact time from that. The blurry images surrounding her left much to the imagination and nothing to help set the time period either. Even the clearer pictures didn't help. Everything was old-fashioned, clearly, but it was also worn, just outdated and past their lifespan. Yet, somehow I didn't care that I couldn't place what I was seeing, I held onto to it all the same. Everything held an importance I couldn't quite grasp. They were all pieces of me.

"Dance with me, Bella," the woman called, turning to where I stood. Her grin was infectious, and I felt my lips smile before I could answer, though that wasn't the only reason for my joy.

Her face was older than in the memories I'd had before, many more lines apparent than in the one picture I'd seen here in Forks, but there was no mistaking who she was. Mom, my heart shouted; Charlie's ex-wife, my mind screamed. Both, they supplied together. The resemblance was unmistakable.

Confusion swept through me, even in my fantasy. How was it possible that this woman could be both? Charlie and the woman in the photo at his house were around the same age, neither of them old enough to have a thirty year old daughter. Maybe I was wrong in the assumption that she was my mother. That had to be the only conclusion

"I'd rather watch," my voice replied, sounding much like it did to me now. "You know I can't d—"

"Oh, just stop," she admonished, putting her hands on her hips playfully. "Get up here and dance with me."

I laughed cheerfully, even while admitting defeat and submitting to the indulgences of the woman before me. I stood, walking over to her, as she thrust the dust rag onto the table she'd just cleaned.

"I love Spring," she exclaimed and threw her hands above her head. "A new beginning. A fresh start."

"Allergies, cleaning," I deadpanned. "I can see why."

She laughed in response, more like teenage giggling than I seemed capable of. I couldn't help but join in with a chuckle of my own.

"That's every day, not just Spring," she corrected. She spread her hands in an outward motion gesturing to the room at large, a broad overdone curtsy. "So dance, baby."

I rocked to the music, the movement somehow… off with the sounds coming from the speakers no matter how I tried to keep to the beat. Even though I knew the scene wasn't really happening—it was a dream after all—I began to feel self-conscious. Impossibly, my vision body seemed to pick up on my unease, and my movements became more erratic.

The woman laughed, grabbing my flailing arms and pulling me into a loose dance hold. "You're overthinking it."

I should have felt uncomfortable in her embrace, but I wasn't. It didn't bother me that this woman held me in her arms. In fact, it felt comforting, a kind act from someone who truly cared.

As soon as that thought flitted through my brain, she yelpe,d and I pulled away slightly. "Sorry," I said, pulling from her grip. "I told you I don't dance, Mom."

Mom? So she is Mom. What on earth?

"That's all in your head," she dismissed, waving her arm at me, then grabbing the rag and walking over to the end table where my book still lay. She carried on, oblivious to my distraction. "You used to dance beautifully when you were little."

I pulled myself from my thoughts, knowing I needed to respond somehow, but unsure how.

Miraculously, my words came unbidden. "I tripped half the class at the recital. One girl wound up with a broken arm and had to wear a cast all summer long."

She laughed again. "Summer in . . ." Her voice died out, though her lips moved, the word mumbled into more a sound than anything. ". . . in a cast. Can you imagine how hot that would be?"

"No, but B—"

The door opened and someone walked in, a breeze blowing the sitting area by the entrance where I had just been.

"Hey, babe," my mother called out to our newest companion. "Bella and I were just dancing!"

"Dancing, huh?" the man asked, his voice an odd mix, almost like two voices put together, a tenor and a bass. "And you survived." He was joking with my mom, but the implication still stung.

"Yeah. The house is still standing, too." I decided to change the subject. "So, how was your trip?" I wondered where I was getting these words from. It was like my mouth was moving without my approval, the words making sense to everyone but me.

I turned to the man and was surprised by what I saw. He was beyond fuzzy, almost indiscernible. Each time he moved, a million other images followed in the same pattern and yet not the same at all. I couldn't get a read on his size or shape or even his hair color, let alone his actual features.

As I was watching, my mom rushed over to the guy and jumped into his awaiting arms, her figure blending into the blob that was the guy. As she made her way across the room, I noticed that her form flickered, both focused and unfocused, her posture between excited joy and rehearsed elation, more a resigned happiness than a true one.

"I missed you so much . . ." Again her voice cut out and became impossible to decipher. I sat and waited for her words to once again make sense. "I'm so glad you're home." Like the man, she spoke in two voices that were somehow one, genuine joy and a falsely bright sound mixed together.

The man's strange multi-toned laughter broke through the house. "It's not easy being stuck at home with a teenager . . ." He paused and the area where his head should be moved. "Is it, Bella?"

"Well, you know, thirty-six is a hard age," I answered back. "But she'll grow out of it . . . eventually."

"Hey!" my mom quipped. "I'm not the one who's sixteen, thank you very much. Just because I call you my middle-aged child, does not mean that you actually are." She turned to the guy. "So any good news?"

I somehow knew that age was a bone of contention for my mom.

"You'll never guess, Renee. They offered me a j . . ." he began, but I was ripped away before I could hear more.

Renee. What a pretty name.

The images grew fainter, another ending to an even more perplexing memory . . . or was it a dream? I thought that perhaps these were more than one memory melded into one. Maybe that was why things kept changing. Perhaps that was why some things were so clear when others were not.

The sun was abnormally bright when I opened my eyes, the setting rays glaring through the window and directly into my eyes.

"Ugh."

"Have a nice nap?" Edward's voice came from the bedroom.

"If you could call it that."

"Do you think you can be ready for dinner in about half an hour?"

"I don't want to go out," I whined. "I'd much rather stay in with you. Then you don't have to pretend to eat."

"I don't mind pretending." He popped his head out of the door, his grin infectious. "I like spoiling you."

How could I argue? "Half an hour it is."

I stood up, stretched my arms above my head and walked toward him.

"What were you dreaming?" he asked. "You were laughing and talking about dusting and dancing."

I tried to cast my mind back. I knew I had been dreaming. I almost remembered it, but the vision was just on the periphery, closer than my lost memories, yet still just as out of reach.

"I don't remember. Maybe if I think about it, I'll remember."

"Must have been pretty funny."

"Must have."

When I had called Alice over the weekend, she'd been ecstatic about the shopping trip, though I was already sure she knew I was going to ask her—she thought she was so cunning with her subterfuge, but I always saw right through her.

Since Jessica and Angela were meeting while the sun was going to be shining brightly, I had to call them to delay our arrival. I dreaded giving the news to Jessica, frightened she'd find some way to get it into the rumor mill—I was sure she already had something to say about the "single Cullens" while we'd been camping—so I waited until the very last minute to call her.

"Hey, Jess," I said at her greeting.

"Bella? Hey, what's up?"

"We're going to be a little late. I want to go to the bookstore nearby. Is it okay if Alice and I show up later?"

"Sure, when do you think?"

"Around seven?"

"Okay." Her voice was off. "I'll talk to Angela. We'll probably just eat first, or something, and then get to the dresses after."

I knew she wasn't pleased, but I acted like I noticed nothing. "Cool. See you then."

"Yeah. See you later."

As I hung up, I wondered what had set her off. Was it just that we were delaying her finding the perfect dress? I didn't let it occupy my mind too much, though. I had much more pressing things to stew over.

A couple of hours later, I was walking toward the bookstore, lost in the few memories I had, trying to find some connection, some piece of information that made sense.

When I stumbled upon my destination, I was unimpressed by the look of it. Clearly this was not what I had been expecting. It looked more like a new age shop you'd find in a mall than an actual legitimate bookstore. I sighed and kept walking since I had time to kill. Alice wouldn't be able to come out soon, even with the elongated shadows of early evening.

Again I lost myself in my own head, not paying attention to where I was going. I didn't notice when the pretty buildings changed to something much more industrial, the glow of the lamps above casting sinister shadows as the twilight waned. This area was different from the touristy places I had visited earlier.

I ignored the look of the place, once again allowing my thoughts to take over, and began my trek into the unknown. It wasn't until I heard male voices that I pulled myself from my reverie.

I was surrounded by buildings, each monstrosity screaming that I wasn't allowed there. This was the seedy underbelly of a small town, no place for a seventeen year old girl—or a woman trapped in a seventeen year old girl's body. I'd have no chance if I stumbled upon something dangerous.

Across the street and a short way up the block was a group of boys either in their late teens or early twenties. One of them was turned to me, sneering in my direction. I was too close to turn around without making it obvious that I was trying to avoid them. Instead, I decided to walk past them and find my way out through the maze of crumbling factories.

"Hello," called the shortest of the boys—men—as I passed.

"Um... hi," I answered, though I knew I should just ignore him.

From the corner of my eye, I noticed him turn back to his friends, whispering so I couldn't hear the conversation. Something told me I didn't want to be involved. I had to get away—to crowds, to safety.

I wandered down the street, hoping the turn ahead would get me back to humanity and security in numbers. Unfortunately, it was just another empty road, devoid of movement, even with the slight breeze that blew past me.

About halfway down the block, I heard the sound of footsteps behind me, closing in. I sped up, wanting to get away from whoever it was. My heart began spluttering frantically, much more so than the situation called for.

I came to the end and noticed lights far off: the people and the protection I craved. I raced toward my salvation but still the footsteps followed. I turned to see two of the boys from the other road behind me, keeping pace even though they didn't appear to be rushing like I was.

Up ahead were the other two.

A car passed only a little way off, and I thought belatedly that I should have brought attention to myself. Instead, I was alone, surrounded by four large boys in a part of the city that would probably not see anyone else until the morning.

Images of bare skin flitted through my mind, fear rising as I realized they were from the dream I'd had repeatedly, the dream where the brown-haired man handled me in unwanted ways.

"No!" I screamed. "Leave me alone."

The short man laughed. "Aw, honey, there's no need to be like that."

"Just... just stay away." My raw throat muffled the sound as I spoke, making me sound more frightened than I'd hoped for.

The man laughed, the others joining in almost as if a side thought. They came nearer and nearer as I tried to come up with a battle plan, a strategy to stop something dreadful from happening. But even as I fought to keep my mind clear, the images of the brown haired man assaulted me, beating me into submission without a single blow from the men around me.

I fell to the ground, pulling my arms over my head. "Get away from me. Leave me alone." It was more a plea than a warning, and I knew my display would be seen as nothing but weakness. Yet somehow, I was unable to stop myself.

A second later, the dark alley was bathed in light, the rays shining through the men's legs, a glimmer of hope. Then the one voice I'd prayed to hear spoke.

"Get away from her!" Edward yelled. "Bella? Bella?" He was frantic.

"What are you going to do, boy?" I heard the short one ask. "There's four of us and only one—"

He was cut off by a low growl and then the alley was filled with the sound of people running. Suddenly I was bathed in an ultra bright light. I was unable to see what was happening and flinched when a hand reached out to me.

"Did they touch you?" he asked, his voice tight as though he were restraining himself.

"No," I answered. "I'm fine."

"I'm not." He lifted me from the ground and walked me toward the light. "I need to get away before I do something rash."

"Like growl at them?" I asked, trying to make light of the situation.

He sighed louder than was necessary. "Do you realize what I almost did?" He placed me in the seat and buckled my belt before I could bring my hands up. "I could have… I would have… If he'd hurt you."

"But they didn't," I argued. "Nothing happened."

Edward closed the door with overwhelming force and opened his almost immediately following, then slid into his seat. Anger more than apparent, he slammed the car into gear and pealed from the site, driving much faster than he should have on the small roads. We were out of Port Angeles before I could completely understand our speed. The darkened trees whipped by the window in blurs. He drove a few miles before turning off onto what must have been an abandoned road.

The harsh set of his jaw sharpened the planes of his face into severe shadow and light. Even in his anger, he was unbelievably beautiful.

"You okay?" I asked, my voice sounded like I had gargled gravel.

His jaw flexed, before he spoke. "What would I have done had I been even a minute later?"

"You weren't."

"I wasn't," Edward agreed, seeming to calm down for the briefest of seconds. "You can't believe the foul things they were thinking."

"I don't want to."

"No, you don't." He breathed deeply, an effort to really relax himself, I assumed.

"And you don't need to think about it," I coaxed. "Nothing happened."

"Not tonight, it didn't."

"What does that mean?"

"One of those men is dangerous, very dangerous." He looked out the side window, away from me. "A true monster." He turned back, fervor burning in his eyes. "I have to go back and—"

"You have to do no such thing," I admonished.

"You don't understand."

"Make me."

He reached over to me, grabbing my hands in his, his eyes boring into mine. "Bella, you are so much more than just the world to me. You're everything." He paused, bringing my hands to his lips, then lowering them again. "I don't know how to adequately say this…" He dropped his head so it was on the same level as mine. "You are my life now."

Much LOVE to anyone reading.

I hope you enjoyed it.

No promises on updates or review responses. I can't seem to keep them and it isn't fair.

As always: Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

So there are more clues in this chapter. There are some really strange things going on with this girl.

Also, there was something in the last chapter that could have been seen as a slip up, but really wasn't. I was amazed that I didn't hear about it. I hope that doesn't mean that my lack of delays has caused people to stop reading, though I'm sure it probably has.

I know I had other things to say, but I can't seem to remember them. I think that posting the chapter is more important than self-important notes, so now I post.

THANK YOU!

BS

PS - FF is acting strangely. I apologize for formatting issues.