DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc., are the intellectual property of the respective author. The original characters and plot are the property of Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended.

-Chapter Three-

Hunger was a funny thing; it clouds even the simplest of judgments. I'd been so focused on food that I hadn't cared about much else. It had driven all my idiot decisions until this point, throwing in my lack of sleep, and it's one deadly combination.

It wasn't until we were pulling into Edward's apartment complex, with my hunger satiated, that fear and doubt arose. The precarious situation I'd gotten myself into was now staring me in the face. It asked me all sorts of things, like where I was from and how I got there. They were simple and innocent questions, but with my brain finally recharged with nutrients, everything turned on a sinister tone.

I was nervous again, but this was more like, "Hey, I might die if I don't get out of this, nervous.

We got out of the car, and I stood frozen on the sidewalk as he walked around the front. I was observing my surroundings and plotting my escape route. Luckily, he'd brought me back to the scene of the crime. So I could figure my way out of here.

I hoped.

It was silly of me to think of my well-being now. Where was this rational thinking an hour or so ago?

In your gut, that's where!

Edward stopped and turned back, noticing my hesitation. I was getting ready to bolt, but I still hadn't decided what direction.

"Don't you think it's a little late to be rethinking your decisions, Kid?" he asked.

I didn't answer him; I kept my eyes due north towards the busy street. There were people there, and if I ran towards them screaming, would he chase me down or shoot me in the back?

"Whatever, suit yourself," he said, walking up to me. I cringed at his proximity, and he let out a tired sigh. "Take this." I glanced down and saw there was some money in his hand. I looked up at him, confused. "It should get you a motel room for a couple of nights and some food."

The money he was shoving into my fists now was at least three hundred dollars, if not more.

"Um, thanks," I mumbled.

Edward's kindness had to come with a price.

He smiled at me with that lopsided grin and brushed a few strands of hair from my face. "Be safe out there, Kid, alright?"

I nodded.

"And lay off the car thieving business. You suck at it. Go work at McDonald's or some shit." He teased, winking.

I laughed nervously. "Sure."

He stood there for a moment, towering over me and looking as though he wanted to say something more but eventually thinking better of it.

"Now get out of here before I change my mind," he said, gently pushing me towards the street.

My feet moved reluctantly, and I kept looking over my shoulder and back at him as he crossed the courtyard. He didn't walk fast or slow; he strolled. Like he was just a guy walking in the park. It was effortless for him.

Maybe I should stay.

The money wadded up in my hands, hundreds poking out and reminding me of their value, was more than enough to keep me afloat for several days.

But then what?

Money was bound to run out just like it did before. The two hundred and seventy-five dollars I saved before I ran away only lasted two weeks, and I was pretty careful with it. I didn't even spend any for the first three days. I stayed with my friend Angela before her mom got a whiff of me there and kicked me out.

I knew what was in store for me if I left. The streets would be calling, and I would sleep on the cold concrete, huddled in my coat and freezing.

Refusing to go home to my uncaring mother and sexual deviant pseudo-father figure, I decided to take my chances with Edward. Of course, it was idiotic and risky, but the two alternatives of where my decisions would lead me if I didn't stay were terrifying.

"Wait," I yelled, running up after him. "Wait up."

He jerked his head back at me with a puzzled look. "Did you forget something?"

"Here," I said, out of breath and holding the money out to him.

"No." He shook his head. "I gave that to you, Bella. It's your money. Take it. You need it."

"I don't need it. So I changed my mind."

I was still trying to force the money into his hand, but he was unwilling to take it. So instead, he took hold of my shoulders to keep me still.

"What are you talking about?" he asked.

"I…" I was hesitant now. What if he changed his mind about giving me a place to stay?

"You what?" He tried coaxing a sentence out of me.

"I want to stay with you." I blurted out.

He stared at me blankly, my words registering with him. He laughed. "Fuck, Kid. You're exhausting." He waved me forward. "Come on, then."

"Here," I said, trying again to give him back his money.

"Keep it," he said, and pushed my hand back towards me and glared. "I'm not going to tell you again, you got me?"

I gulped and nodded, shoving it into the back pocket of my jeans as I followed closely behind him.

Edward's apartment was on the third floor and overlooked a dingy pool. He said it was like having an Oceanside view. I laughed. The overgrown algae were the only thing this pool had in common with an ocean.

Stopping at apartment 323, he pulled out his keys and unlocked the door. The music from inside was blaring, almost obnoxiously so, and I covered my ears as we walked in.

"Yo, Eddie!" A large man on a leather couch shouted.

He had curly black hair, muscles everywhere, and a devilish smile. He was a cute guy, but his large build was somewhat intimidating, and I found myself hiding behind Edward.

"Turn that shit off, Emmett. Do you want our fucking neighbors to call the cops again?" Edward growled.

I sniffed the air and got a distinct trace of weed. I searched the room, looking for its origin. A large joint was on the coffee table in a blue pebbled ashtray.

Well, that's not surprising.

"Fuck the police," Emmett said, flipping off no one. "Let em' come."

"Yeah, you say that shit now," Edward said, rolling his eyes and walking to the stereo to turn it off.

The silence was lovely, and Emmett seemed unfazed by anything. He picked up the joint and took a big hit off it. He held his breath; cheeks puffed out and filled with smoke as he passed it over to Edward. They were both sitting on the couch, passing it back and forth.

Puff, puff, pass.

Emmett still hadn't noticed me and was completely unaware of my existence—even though I was standing right there in front of him.

Yeah, this wasn't awkward at all.

"So, Eddie you've been gone for awhile. Did you kill the person who was stealing your car? Did you chop them up and bury the pieces in the desert?" He cackled.

Edward blew out smoke and smiled at me—the idiot who should be chopped up and buried in the desert. "Nope. Instead, I fed them, gave them some money, and brought them home with me."

Emmett looked over at me, his eyes popping out of his skull. He pointed. "What's that?"

"That's Bella," Edward said.

"What's a Bella?"

"Bella is a shitty car thief," Edward answered, biting at that lip ring again.

Man, what was he trying to do to me?

Emmett frowned. "What the hell is she doing here?"

"She needs a place to crash," Edward said, waving me off, acting as if my need for a home wasn't a huge deal or anything.

"Oh. Cool." Emmett grinned at me. "Hey, there, little Bella…do you smoke?"

They had been talking about me like I wasn't there for so long that I was stunned when someone addressed me.

"Um..."

"Don't give her that shit, she's a good girl. You shouldn't be trying to corrupt her," Edward said, grabbing the joint away from Emmett's hand.

I frowned. Not only did this guy see me as a kid, but as a good girl as well. It was all too much, and I acted like a child in response—the one thing I tried so hard to prove that I wasn't.

"Would a good girl try to steal your car?" I shot back, stomping over to them and snatching the joint out of Edward's mouth.

I'd only smoked weed a few times, so I was familiar with the inhaling and exhaling parts.

However, I overcompensated.

I'd taken in too much smoke to be badass, and it backfired. I was bent over, hacking my lungs out, feeling like I was going to die.

Edward laughed. "Sit down before you hurt yourself, Kid."

I fell back into the chair behind me, feeling the effects of that one hit. Talk about biting off more than I could chew. My vision was getting blurry, and I could feel my buzz coming. Finally, I closed my eyes, feeling waves of warm sensations in my limbs.

The last thing I needed to do was lower my inhibitions around two strange men. Hadn't my mother taught me anything? But, unfortunately, it was too late now. I was stoned, and I couldn't do anything about it but wait it out. I hoped that I was alive and still a virgin in the morning.

The guys were talking to each other, laughing, joking, and ignoring me again. Ten minutes passed. Well, it could've been longer. Time stopped in my world—and they lowered their voices to hush whispers. It was all secret-like, making me pay close attention to what they were saying.

"What do you plan to do with her, Eddie?"

"She needs someone to look after her."

"Bullshit!" He snorted. "You want to bang her."

"Em, she's seventeen."

"So?"

Edward laughed. "I'm twenty-eight, man. That's..."

"Perfect."

"It's illegal."

"What? Fuck that. Our whole operation is illegal. This weed is illegal. That gun in your fucking pants is illegal."

"I don't care. It's not right. She's a kid."

I was starting to hate that word.

"Fine. Whatever. But just know that I'm not babysitting her for you."

"Fuck off, dude," Edward said, and from what I could tell, he was punching something, Emmett's arm, the table, I didn't know. He groaned. "Look, Bella is my problem, alright? I'll fucking take care of her."

It went silent, and I wondered if I'd fallen asleep.

"You're going to get burned with that one, man."

Edward chuckled sadly. "Yeah, don't I fucking know it."