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 Five-

It was around noon when we arrived at the reservation. Jake's house was the same as I remembered it. It was aged and rundown, and the stucco was cracking. The patches of dead grass from the smoldering sun were an odd compliment to the dirt lawn.

I sat in the car briefly, biting my nails and severely rethinking this field trip. Even though I wanted my stuff back, I didn't think it was worth risking our lives over. But, of course, Edward waved off my concerns. The guy was carrying two guns in his waistband but assured me that this shit was no big deal.

"They're all fucking talk," Edward had said.

Right.

Somehow, that didn't ease my worries. Not even a little.

He rechecked his guns, making sure they were loaded. He'd done this about four times in the last five minutes. I looked down and noticed my screwdriver lying by my feet on the floorboard and scooped it up and put it down the front of my pants.

It's not much of a weapon, but it'll have to do.

Edward wrinkled his brow in displeasure. "What are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing? I need something to, you know, just in case.

"And you're actually going to use that thing?" he asked skeptically.

I shrugged. "I don't know. I might."

"No, you're not," he said, reaching his hand into my pants, shocking me, and pulling out the screwdriver. He tossed it in the backseat.

I was on the verge of panting from his simple touch and the proximity of his fingers when he placed a gun into my open palm.

It was cold and heavy. I stared down at it with wide eyes, unable to speak.

"You know how to use one, right?" he asked.

I shook my head slowly as a large lump formed and lodged itself in the back of my throat.

"Just aim it at some fuckers head and pull the trigger."

I nodded as the weight of the gun, and its implications hit me. This visit could end up badly. Oh, so very badly. Nothing good was going to come out of this, but still, I couldn't refuse Edward. I just sat there, gripping the handle firmly and wrapping my fingers around the trigger. It felt right, and I felt empowered by it.

My hands were no longer trembling.

"Hide it in your pants," he said, ducking his head down and peering out my side window.

Doing as told, I concealed the weapon in my jeans, barely able to cover the handle with my shirt. I followed his gaze now and saw two guys on the porch. They were staring at us, pointing and hollering at someone in the house.

Edward smiled, mischief twinkling in his eyes. "Let's go."

Edward walked in front of me when we got out of the car. He kept one of his hands on my waist, protectively leading the way. The men watched our approach, and their stances, once relaxed, were now territorial and tense.

"Hey, Fellas," Edward greeted, uncharacteristically bright. "I'm here to see Jake."

One tall and thick guy crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head. "He's busy."

"This will only take a second," Edward said, taking another step towards the house and placing his hand on the guy's shoulder.

The gesture wasn't hostile and almost friendly. I thought maybe Edward was right. Perhaps nothing terrible was going to happen.

However, I spoke too soon, and the guy gently shoved Edward backward. I put my hands up to break his fall, but Edward didn't need my help. The wick on the ticking time bomb lit, and everything after that became a blur.

The next thing I knew, Edward cocked the gun and pointed it at the guy's neck."Don't fuck with me, Paul. I am not in the mood."

Paul was stunned and hadn't expected Edward to pull his gun so quickly. He didn't even have time to reach for his weapon, his hands still frozen at his sides.

"Jared." Paul grunted.

The second guy on the porch, Jared, I'm guessing, caught wind of the commotion and went to pull out his pistol. But Edward was already miles ahead of him. He'd taken the gun out of the front of my pants and had it pointed directly at Jared's head.

Jesus, I didn't even feel it when he grabbed it from me. Everything was going by so fast. It was hard to keep up.

"Don't even fucking think about it, asshole," Edward said.

My blood was pumping, and my senses were on high alert as this overwhelming sensation built up in me. The chaos was thrilling and overshadowed my fear. My whole body was tingling with excitement.

"What the fuck do you want, Edward, huh?" Paul asked through his gritted teeth.

"I just want to talk to Jake."

Paul didn't want to give in to Edward's demands. I saw the stubbornness in his dark eyes. Finally, Edward responded to Paul's defiance by pressing the muzzle of his gun deeper into his neck.

"Call him," he said, tone-clipped and deadly.

"Fuck you!" Paul spat.

"Call him, Paul, or I'll unload a bullet into your God damn jaw."

Paul gulped nervously, his eyes flitting over to Edward and me. "Jared, go get Jake."

"I'm here," Jake said, stepping out from behind the screen door and onto the porch. He rested his hand on Jared's shoulder and nodded for him to go inside.

Jared slowly backed away, his hand inches from his exposed gun. Edward never wavered, keeping his aim on Jared's head until he disappeared inside. Then, without missing a beat, Edward shifted his gun toward Jake.

Jake smiled easily, enjoying the tension. "Relax, Edward, we're all friends here."

"Friends?" He laughed. "Is that why you tried to steal my fucking car?"

Jake acted surprised. "Someone tried to steal the Chevelle? No kidding?"

"Cut the fucking shit. I'm not here for lies. I'm here for Bella's stuff."

"Bella?" Jake questioned, confused.

"Yeah, she's the girl you sent to steal my car," Edward answered.

"Oh, yes, the cute little brunette," he said, looking around Paul's stocky form and noticing me standing there. He gave me a small wave. "Well, by all means, have her go inside and get her things."

"Bella," Edward called.

I walked up to him, and he gestured me forward.

"Not so fast," Jake said, blocking my path. "Will you please remove your gun from my brother's throat first?"

"Oh, yeah, sure," Edward said with a benign smile, slowly lowering his weapon. He leaned down and whispered into my ear. "Go get your stuff."

All three men stared each other down as I ran inside. I knew where I'd left my backpack, assuming it was still there.

There were four to five people in the house. Jared was pacing the living room, looking like a frightened, caged animal. The rest of Jake's people were sitting on the couch, looking like emotionless statues. They watched me closely as I entered the room. I did my best to ignore them.

I'd hidden my bag behind a chair in the far back corner by the entertainment center. I sighed with relief, seeing the black leather and white stitching backpack.

I opened it up and checked the pockets to find everything was still there, even my silver pendant necklace—which was surprising.

Slinging it over my shoulder, I ran outside and saw no one had moved. I don't think any of the men talked while I was gone. They were standing there in silence with hatred and distrust in their eyes.

"I got it. We're good," I told Edward.

He kept his guns pointed. "Well, Fellas, I would like to thank you so much for your hospitality. We'll have to do this again real soon."

"Try not to split her in two the first time out," Jake said, winking at me.

Edward pushed me behind him and glared, flipping him off, but said nothing as we slowly backed away. I was disgusted by Jake's insinuation and grateful that he had never tried anything with me. I'm sure the word 'no' would have never stopped him from taking what he wanted.

It wasn't until we were in the car and driving away did my body relax.

Edward glanced over at me with a sly smirk. "That was fun, huh…" he paused, his faint smile morphing into a heated scowl, "well, except for that shit that Jake said about you at the end. He's lucky I didn't fucking kill him for that."

"What?" I was so stunned by the 'fun' comment. "You call that fun? I just barely got my heart to slow down. They could have killed us back there, Edward."

He scoffed. "Not even. Those assholes are a bunch of pussies."

"Then why did you pull your gun out?"

"Just to see Paul shit his pants. Why else?"

I gaped at him, not believing my ears.

"You're completely unhinged, do you know that?"

He smiled proudly. "Yeah, I know, but so are you."

"What? No, I'm not."

"Bullshit! When I put my gun in your hand," his gaze roamed over my body, landing on my chest and staying there—for just a fraction of a second before glancing up at my blushing face, "I saw the way your body reacted. It excited you."

"It…it did not," I stammered, but suddenly, I wasn't so sure anymore.

"Deny it all you want, you can't hide the truth from me. Face it, Kid, we're all criminals; in one way or another."

"You're wrong."

"Okay, fine, I'm wrong. So I guess there's no point in taking you out shooting then."

My head snapped up, and I felt that thrill again. He was testing me. He knew what I wanted before I did.

"You would do that?" I asked, trying hard to keep the excitement out of my voice.

It didn't work.

"Of course," his eyes were a deep green and focused intently on me. I felt so naked and exposed, "but only if you want me to."

"I do," I said, nodding my head shamefully.

"I fucking knew it."

He jerked the steering wheel swiftly to the right, cutting off two lanes of traffic and jumping back on the freeway.

"What are you doing?" I screeched frantically, clutching the sides of the car.

"I'm taking you out shooting."

"What, now?"

"Why not?" He asked, reaching over and placing his hand on my leg, gently squeezing it. "There's no time like the present, right?"

Considering the whirlwind that was my life now, I was hard-pressed to argue with him.

"Right."