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 Nineteen-

The floors were a dingy white, and there were black scuff marks from the constant traffic. I counted how many times people dragged their feet, scrapping their heels along the linoleum. I had to do something to keep myself busy. They had me seated in a small holding area by myself, and it's been the longest three hours of my life.

I'd thought the cops would keep me there all night, and I hadn't put much hope in Phil and Renee rushing up there to bail me out.

The cop who'd taken me in tried to save me from my tragic life. He gave me the 'Come to Jesus' talk, telling me I shouldn't be hanging out with a worthless piece of shit like Edward.

He fucking called him that.

It took all I had in terms of restraint not to tell him to go fuck himself. So instead, I was diplomatic and told him politely but firmly that he didn't know anything about Edward.

The person whose care he was about to put me back into was the real monster.

I could've told the cop about Phil and how he's tried to rape me—more than once—but I was used to my pleas landing on deaf ears. It was strange how all these people claimed they wanted to help me but refused to listen or do anything about it. Instead, they let things build and escalate until Phil took it too far one day, and I ended up shattering the floral vase, one I made in school, on his fucking skull.

Whatever, I didn't need these posers in blue to protect me. I'll be eighteen in two weeks, and then no one will have a say over my life.

"Isabella Swan."

My head shot up, and an officer stood before me. He was young, most likely a rookie.

"Yeah?" I asked.

He reached down and released me from my cuffs. "Your parents are here to pick you up."

"Perfect," I said, massaging my wrists. "Both of them?"

He nodded. "They are up front waiting for you."

"Well, let's get the shit over with," I said, standing up from the bench.

The rookie officer placed his hand on my back and led me out. He was nice enough and offered conversation, but I wasn't in the talking mood. My nerves were in my throat and the hatred I felt for 'my parents' was increasing and expanding with every step I took in their direction.

I'm not sure what my plan was, but there was no way I would go home with them. The police's only obligation was to detain me. The officer who hand-cuffed me had lied to Edward. There was no law violation, and I knew that any other cop wouldn't have wasted the trouble on a runaway just weeks from their eighteenth birthday.

It was a personal decision that the cop made, believing that I was in danger.

When the elevators opened, I saw Phil and Renee standing in the middle of the room. Their backs were facing me, and they weren't talking. It was the image I'd seen the day I walked out the door. If they'd been paying attention, they would've noticed I was leaving the house on a Saturday morning with a backpack full of clothes.

Twisting and popping my fingers, I walked up to them cautiously, almost like a zookeeper approaching a lion. But my fear turned into seething, unabated anger, and it shifted my whole outlook on this reunion.

Because I realized that they were the same assholes as before, it was me who was different.

Phil's body stiffened when he saw me. His dark eyes landed on mine, and that sneering, cunning smirk was forming at the corners of his mouth. He believed he had won and that I would go home and lie there like a crippled animal.

He made me sick.

Nudging Renee on her shoulder, Phil pointed over at me, and she turned, forcing a smile on her old and worn face. The dull sandy blonde hair hung in her eyes, and she nervously brushed it away. The hatred she harbored for me was still there, but she held her arms open, expecting me to run into them as I used to when I was five. Instead, I stopped a few feet before them, maintaining my distance and unwilling to help them put on a show.

Because that's all it was: a show—one big, outlandish farce.

"Bella," Renee said. Her voice was unnaturally high and cheery. "Come here, I've missed you."

I stood there unmoved, wanting to skip all this fake nonsense and return to Edward. "Can we leave now?"

"Sure," Renee answered tensely, her arms dropping limply to her side. She glanced over at Phil, and he took a broad step towards me, reaching out to grip my arm.

I snatched it away and glared at him. "Don't fucking touch me."

"Bella, darling," Renee laughed uncomfortably, looking around to see if people were watching us, "don't make a scene."

I rolled my eyes. "Of course not, mother, we wouldn't want these people knowing the truth about us, would we?"

"Why don't we take this outside, ladies," Phil said, gripping my arm tightly before I had a chance to jerk it away. Instead, he yanked me forward and dragged me out of the police station. "You think you're so smart, don't you? Come and go as you please. Thinking that there is no one you'll have to answer to, hmm?"

Somewhere Renee was behind us, bitching about how spoiled and inconsiderate I was. How they worried night after night, thinking I was dead in some ditch somewhere. She had to cancel two book groups the week I ran away. Poor thing, she was several chapters behind the rest of her friends.

"You guys do realize that I am just going to run again, right?" I said, looking back and forth between them. "All of this is a waste of time."

Renee narrowed her eyes. "Where are you going to go, huh? Back to slutting it around, like some whore, with that older man? I mean, for God sakes, Bella, he's a criminal!"

At what point did I do something so horrible I deserved to be treated like this by my mother?

Phil squeezed my arm harder and whispered into my ear. "And you told me you didn't like older cock."

His hot and stinky breath on my skin was fucking repulsive and sickening. I didn't want him to touch me, but he was arrogant and brave, speaking to me in such a way with his wife—my mother—hot on his heels. God only knows how brave he could be when he gets me alone.

I jerked my head away from him and hissed. "Fuck off."

"Oh, you're a sassy little pussy." He laughed, heaving me over to him and crushing my body to his.

"And I swear, some of the things I found in your room we're deplorable." Renee still chattered away, unaware of what was transpiring between her husband and daughter.

No wonder Phil felt he could say and do whatever he wanted with his wife just feet away because he could. And he knew he could.

She didn't give a shit about me.

We exited the building, and the hot summer air hit my face. The parking lot was virtually empty, and I could see Phil's car sitting in the distance. They must've parked it a block away from the station.

Phil proceeded to carelessly drag me down the stairs, my feet catching the lip of several steps and nearly face-planted on the cement each time. Renee followed behind us, commenting on my clumsiness.

What a fucking freak show this was.

"Damn it," Renee cursed loudly, reaching out and tugging on Phil's shirt.

"What is it now, Renee?" he snapped, stopping and looking back at her.

"I forgot my purse," she said, waving us off. "You guys go on; I'll be there in a minute."

"Hurry up," he barked, "I got to be to work in five hours."

"Oh, hush," she said, dashing back inside.

Phil smiled down at me, towing me forward and down the rest of the stairs. Every time I tried to wriggle to get out of his grip, he would tighten his fingers even more, and it eventually got to the point where it throbbed in pain. He was speed-walking me across the street, and I felt he wanted time with me before Renee returned.

"How's that head of yours, Phil, huh?" I spat. "You still getting migraines, you prick?"

"You know, I thought you had some spunk in you when you assaulted me that one day, but you were still that timid, scared of her own shadow, little girl, but this," he said, throwing me up against the side of his car, knocking the wind out of me, "side of you is so much sweeter."

"Enjoying your creation?" I scoffed.

But, of course, I was giving him too much credit. So he tried to make me a victim, and I refused to be one.

His eyes darted up towards the entrance, making sure we were alone. But fortunately, he was distracted, and I took that opportunity to make my escape. As I turned to run, I caught a brief glimpse of a red Chevelle parked down the road, vaguely obscured by some trees.

But that slight shock and hesitation on my part was a mistake. Phil had caught wind of plans and grabbed me by the neck, thrusting me back hard against the car.

"Don't even think about running, kid," he said.

I'm not sure if it was because he was strangling me or because he called me by Edward's nickname. Maybe it was a bit of both, but it unleashed fury in me. I struggled within his hold, cursing loudly, punching at him, and jamming my knees into his legs—anything I could do to get him to let me go.

He laughed, dodging my fists, but the oxygen was running out, and I lost my fight.

"You just wait, Phil," I panted, stilling and limping. "Karma is going to be coming for you."

He cackled loudly, his face less than an inch from mine. "Are you threatening me, little girl?"

"No, she's not," a familiar and all too consuming voice answered with a growl, cocking the Custom Colt and pressing the muzzle against Phil's cheek, "but I am."