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 Fourteen-

We'd been hibernating in the room for a few hours now, and no one had disturbed us. So it was nice having alone time with Edward, free to kiss him and touch him anyway I liked and vise versa. Usually, the family surrounded us, but I felt Edward had something to do with that.

I doubted he wanted to be alone with me in a room with a bed so readily available.

My fingers drew lazy patterns, outlining each intricate tattoo across Edward's chest. He was lying back with hands behind his head and eyes closed, enjoying the soft yet chaste touch. This little intimacy was the only thing he allowed me to do. After that fantastic time he gave me, I wanted to return the favor. I felt how much he liked it, and my hand slipped below his jeans, but he told me that's not why he fingered me. He wasn't looking for reimbursement.

It didn't matter how much I told him I didn't mind or how much I wanted to touch him. He wouldn't let me.

He was a stubborn jackass on his way to being a selfless saint.

"What's this one mean?" I asked, tracing the tattoo on his upper right chest.

It was hard to grasp without knowing what it was. In one aspect, it looked like a tribal tattoo. It was a half-mooned shape, and on the top portion, it was circular with lines going in and out of it. The whole thing was complex, confusing, and fitting of Edward.

He raised his head to see where I was pointing. "It's just a Celtic design. I got it when I was fifteen."

"Fifteen?!" I gaped at him. "Your parent's let you get a tattoo at fifteen?"

"No, of course not," he said, lying back down. "Those pompous assholes shit themselves when they found out. I was an embarrassment to them, and my mom—the catholic fucking priestess—made me go to confession twice a week for six weeks to cleanse that fucking sin."

He gritted his teeth, and his body tensed, obviously trying to restrain his anger. It shocked me that he was openly talking about his parents. The family issue had been such a secret, and nobody wanted to discuss it. Anytime they did, Edward would give them a stern look, and they would drop it.

"I'm not much of a religious person," I said, propping my elbows on his chest. "Renee got into Christianity for a while, and we would go to church on Sundays', but that ended when she met her husband."

Even God took a backseat to Phil.

"Renee?"Edward asked, cocking his head to the side.

"That's my mom," I said sadly, shrugging. "Good ol' Renee."

It'd been a while since I said her name or even acknowledged her. The heartache was creeping up, reminding me of when she turned her back on me. Maybe it was even before then, but that day in the police station was when I realized it.

That was over a year ago when I was in custody for charges of assault and battery. I was sixteen, and it was a few days before my birthday. It was surprisingly hot that day, and I remember how my pink tank top was drenched in sweat, making the blood stains a deeper red color.

They called Renee at work, and she picked me up. When she arrived nearly three hours later, I could see her eyes' bitter coldness and hate. At times, she refused to even look at me. I knew that she chose to see Phil first, and he filled her head with a bunch of lies. She believed every word, and suddenly, I was no longer her daughter.

She lied to the police and collaborated with Phil's account of the events. She even made the police press charges against me. Thankfully, since I was a minor and my first offense, I got three months probation and two-hundred hours of community service. My record will be clear of all charges when I turn eighteen. Not that it mattered anymore. It's not like I'm planning on going to college.

No, they ruined that future for me.

"Can I ask you something?" Edward asked, sitting up in the bed and breaking me away from that miserable time.

"That depends on how personal it is," I said, feeling the panic seeping in.

He smiled weakly, probably seeing right through me. I wasn't very good at concealing my feelings.

"How fucking bad does something have to be for someone as smart you to runway from home?"

My inner voice screamed at me, telling me to hide and avoid his question. The gates were closed and tightly locked, keeping the hurt at bay. Why open it? The flood would overpower me, and I would drown. But something else rang true to me. In that one little detail I'd shared about Renee, it seemed to sprout a memory but lessen its impact.

Besides, I couldn't deny Edward anything. There was the only person in this world I trusted more than myself, and the man sitting across from me, the gun-toting criminal with deep green eyes that, unknowingly entrapped me in his toxic world.

"Bad," I said. "But I was smart enough to leave before it reached that point between bad and pretty fucking bad."

I didn't think I would be homeless when I packed up my things that day. The thought never even crossed my mind. I had money in my wallet. I wanted to make it on my own, get a job, and become this high-paid career woman. But things got real fast, and without a high school diploma, I realized that my options were pretty fucking limited.

"How bad is pretty fucking bad?" he asked, his teeth grazing his bottom lip repeatedly.

It distracted me momentarily, and I wanted to stop talking about Renee and get back to kissing. It'd been so lovely lounging around and making out. I didn't want to go into the assorted tail of my worthless life. But more than that, I didn't think Edward wanted to hear it. The look in his eyes told me that he would kill anyone who tried to harm me, and as much as the thought of Phil dead tempted me to spill my guts, I didn't want Edward to be the one to pull the trigger.

"Baby," Edward said, brushing the hair away from my shoulders and sending chills down my spine. "You know that you can tell me anything, right?"

"I know," I said, leaning in and kissing his lips. I sighed, choosing my words carefully. "My mom wasn't taking care of me like she should've been. She chose her husband over me and wasn't holding up her end of the bargain by protecting me. So, I decided it was time to protect myself. And if that meant leaving and living out on the streets, then so be it."

Edward's eyes narrowed, and his hand reached for his gun. "What did that asshole do to you? Did fucking touch you? Huh? Tell me."

I groaned, taking his hand and holding it in my lap. The last thing I needed was him out there raising hell. "I left before anything could happen, Edward, okay? I'm fine. Please, trust me."

"Are you sure?" he asked, his eyes glancing back at his gun.

He wasn't stupid. He knew that I wasn't being entirely truthful with him.

"Yes, I'm positive. It's fine. I'm fine." He was a reactor and never a thinker. I sighed, hoping to redirect his attention. "Can I ask you a question now?"

"Sure," he said.

"Why did you leave home?"

It was a taboo subject, but he surfaced mine. It was only fair.

"Who said I did?" he asked, suspicion heavily laced in his tone.

This conversation will not end well for somebody, but I couldn't pretend it was just a guess. Edward would see right through that, and he would be less likely to tell me the truth.

I bit my lip, glancing away from his penetrating eyes, and answered quietly. "Emmett."

"That mother fucker." He shook his head, laughing dryly. "What else did the big mouth tell you?"

"Umm, well, he happened to mention that you're parents were rich…is that true?"

"Yup," Edward said, rubbing his forehead roughly. "Richer than fucking God himself."

There was so much bitterness, and I feared I had stepped over the line. It was a double-edged sword because I wanted to know more about Edward and why he chose a life of crime over endless amounts of money, but I didn't want him to resent me for it. But, on the other hand, I wasn't his therapist; I was barely eight hours into the girlfriend gig.

But the questions were plaguing me: what would make a man hate his family so much that he would leave them? What man would give up money and a life of luxury for guns and squalor?

I knew my reasoning for running away from Renee was self-preservation. However, Phil was only getting braver with each passing day, and if I didn't leave, no vase to his skull would stop him.

So, was it self-preservation for Edward or something else? Something far more damaging and beyond repair?

Fortunately, I was smart enough to know when to quit.

"Look, Edward, we don't have to talk about this if you don't want to, okay?" I said, rising from the bed.

Edward gripped me by the wrist and pulled me back to bed. He shifted towards me, his chest pressed against my back, his warmth making me dizzy. He wrapped his arms around my waist and rested his chin on my shoulder. We sat there for a moment, not saying a word, just listening to each other breathe in and out until we were both in equal rhythms.

Like Edward, it was soothing, hypnotic, and highly addictive.

He sighed heavily, ending the silence. "I'm sorry for being a dick. The last thing I fucking want is you feeling like can't ask me about my family. If anyone has any fucking right to know about my past, it's you."

I smiled. "So, what you're saying is that I have unlimited access?"

"Only you."

"Okay," I said, rubbing my hands together in anticipation. "What do I want to know? Oh, I know. Tell me about your father."

"He's kind of…the Senator of Illinois."

I blinked a few times, floored by what he told me. "You're kidding me?"

He chuckled. "Oh, I wish I was."

Turning my body around to get a good look at him, I expected to see him smiling or winking, something to let me know that he was full of shit. But he wasn't. There was an unknown somberness behind those eyes. For whatever reason, Edward wasn't proud of this fact.

"What…how…is that even possible?" I stammered. "I mean, how does a Senator's son become a convicted felon?" I asked.

"It was the better option."

"Better option than what?"

As he went to answer me, there was a loud banging on the door. It scared the living shit out of me, and I jumped nearly twenty feet into the air.

"What the hell?" I said, clutching my chest as my heart pounded hard against it.

"Come on, fuckers," Emmett shouted through the door. "Stop screwing like bunnies and get out here! We're partying in an hour."

"Fuck off," Edward yelled back.

There was a faint guffawing from Emmett through the door. "Just put on some clothes, you horny bastards, and get out here."

It was official, our alone time was over, and the sex jokes were likely to ensue.

Wonderful.

Edward groaned, burying his face in my hair. "You know he's not going to go away."

"I know," I said, standing up and holding out my hands to him. "So, let's get out of here and go somewhere. Just you and me."

He raised his eyebrow at me questioningly. "And where do you suggest we go?"

I looked down at the tape on the table next to the Custom Colt and smiled, feeling my face heat up with excitement.

"Take me to a parking garage."

AN: I have Edward's side of the story posted as well. He's slightly ahead in chapters, but Bella's slowly catching up.