My best laid plan
Your sleight of hand
My barren land
I am ash from your fire

Stood on the cliff side
Screaming "Give me a reason"
Your faithless love's the only hoax
I believe in

Taylor Swift - Hoax

Chapter 57: The Destructiveness of a Love That Never Changes

Lexi

"I didn't know…I thought everything would be…different. After what you said earlier about…about feeling better with me around I was thinking all night and I was prepared to just be here for you," she wailed, twisting her hands again. "All this time I thought everything was done. I thought it died, just like I did. And now that I know it didn't, where does that leave us?"

"I don't know," he answered, his voice hoarse. "You're my imprint. I'm yours. That's all I know, Lex."

I shook my head at him, the sadness I'd felt boiling close to the surface threatening to overtake me. Of course I was emotional as a newborn, but I'd since gotten myself under some semblance of control. It shouldn't have been any surprise that this evening was pushing my limits. Seeing him again, so close to me….it was almost more than I could bear. All of those months spent thinking about him and missing him had taken a toll on me. To see him now was wreaking havoc on my emotional control and I couldn't help but feel like I might burst.

On the outside, he was tired. It didn't take much to see that the past few months had been probably as hard on him as they had for me. Thinner, somehow older, and drained, he looked like I felt on the inside. Of course I knew he was still phasing and therefore hadn't aged a day since I'd last laid eyes on him, but my vampire eyes didn't miss much. He'd suffered too. He'd selfishly reminded me that without me present, he'd suffered the pain of being away from his imprint. I wasn't completely innocent – a self-seeking side of me was somehow secretly happy he hadn't been able to move on without me. It was a sick and twisted wish, I knew that. I also knew that we were both at fault for the way we'd behaved both before and after my change. The memory was blurry, but I knew we'd been fighting that fateful day and that was why I'd gone back into the woods where that monster had found me. But could I blame myself for that? Or Brady? No, I couldn't. I knew that. We both had short fuses – my impatience, his temper, both of us stubborn to a fault.

I would have been stupid to hope that our reunion tonight could have gone smoothly.

I shook my head. "No, Brady. I'm a vampire, and you're a shape shifting wolf. That's all I know. There's no logical reason for any of this!" I finished, my voice raising slightly. The screeching sound of my words echoed off the river and the trees and made his dark brown eyes burn like lava. He stared at me for a few silent beats until a bitter laugh came bubbling out of his chest. One thing I hadn't forgotten was Brady's hot temper.

"Look around, Lexi! Does any of this ever fucking make sense to you?" he motioned to the Cullen house, then at us. "I turn into a giant wolf. My friend is married to a half vampire, half human. That's a house full of vampires, and you ate Bambi for dinner. What fucking part of ANY of this makes any fucking sense to you?" he bellowed, turning in a circle on the beach.

My shocked face must have been enough to make him think twice.

"Shit, I shouldn't have…I'm sorry, Lex. All this time I've been wanting you to come back and now-"

Closing my eyes, I felt my chest shake. A wave of emotions rose inside of me, brimming to the surface until – I burst out laughing. A manic, relieved, bubbling laugh.

The sound bounced off the trees, shaking my body so hard I had to inhale to steady myself. None of this made any sense – at all. But it was the world we lived in.

He looked at me like I'd sprouted another head. I calmed my rancorous, hectic laugher, shaking my head.

My throat was dry as I spoke, but I knew I needed to say this. "Brady…I get that we're different now. I still care about you…so much. But I understand that things can't go back to the way they were. Can…can we at least be friends? If anything, I could use a friend. I don't have many…" I twisted my hands in front of me, unsure of how to convince him of this, "And I care about you too much to have you suffer. I don't know what happens when a wolf is away from his imprint, but I don't want to see it long term."

"What are you saying?" he asked, his eyes calm and liquid brown again.

"Let's just take it day by day. And if you find that you need me around, then….I'll stay."

"Stay?" he asked, frowning slightly. "With me?"

I nodded. "I don't want you to hurt. I know I can't be….what I was, but I can be your friend. I….I want to be friends, Brady."

He exhaled, jamming his hands into his wrinkled black pants again. "You know…I read something once and I never really understood it until now."

He had that cocky look about him, one that not even the venom had burned away from my human memories – it was the look he had when he was about to say something he knew was pushing it. His jaw was set and his eyes blazed as he watched me.

"What was it?"

"When you get dumped by someone and they tell you they want to be friends…it's like someone killing your pet but then telling you that you can still keep it."

Of course I'd yelled at him after that, furious that he wasn't being fair. Of course things couldn't be the same, how could he not realize that? Me, a barely emotional controlled newborn vampire, and him, a temper tantrum throwing were wolf? Of course I wanted him, but I also knew it was a matter of time before we throttled each other or worse. As much as I'd missed him I knew we couldn't play loosely with the rules of our kind.

"So you agreed to be friends then?" Esme's voice cut through my thoughts. She finished moving one of the couches that had been relocated the night before back into place. Eyeing the positioning, she inched in one millimeter closer to the coffee table and smiled warmly at me. "I think that's nice. Brady is obviously taking this all very hard," she patted my arm as she walked back to get more furniture.

Rosalie rolled her eyes as Esme passed her. "He behaved himself well enough," she met my gaze from across the room. "But what did he expect?!"

It was the day after the prom and I was helping Rosalie and Esme put the house back together. Edward and Bella had taken Renesmee to visit with Charlie, and the rest of the family had gone to check on Fred. He'd traveled back to Washington with us to check up on the rest of his human family from afar and hadn't returned yet. I was pretty okay with that, all things considered – I wasn't ready to see Fred again, the sting of my rejection still fresh. Rosalie had told me about the time years ago when Edward had tried to break up with Bella and Jacob had stepped in – the love triangle she described in her recollection sounded like a horrible romance novel I wanted no part of. Of course theirs was a happy ending, but I wanted no part of that when it came to Brady and Fred.

I knew, and I suppose I had known from the beginning, that Fred and Brady could not be put into the same category. As convenient as that would have been to fall for Fred and have him fill the void Brady had left in me would have been, it wasn't fair to Fred. The love I saw between Bella and Edward was steadfast and strong; I had a difficult time imagining it any different between them. Rosalie had described a very different time in their relationship, a dark time, when Edward had left Bella for fear his world was too dangerous for her. His desire to keep her human had been a decision Rosalie full supported – she didn't hide that this wasn't the life she would have chosen for herself.

"As you can imagine, the absence of Edward left other places open in Bella's heart…places that Jacob had no problem filling, at the time," she'd explained.

She, as well as I, didn't doubt that Bella had fallen in love with Jacob for a while. Of course the nature of their relationship was far different today, but I wasn't about to try to wrap my head around that. Rosalie had told the tale of their tumultuous love triangle in great detail.

Although I was still wracked with guilt about how things with Fred had ended, I knew it was for the best after listening to the events she described. I wasn't Bella – but understood why she'd reached out to Jacob when Edward left. Without closure, the gaping hole that a hurt like that could leave made you feeling like you'd never breathe again. I understood that better than anyone. However, I wasn't about to string Fred along any further. I would not do that to him. Cutting ties with him for the time being felt like the right thing to do and I knew it was the only thing that would save our friendship down the line. There would be no love triangle with me.

"I think he….was just curious about me. We were close, and….he wanted to know that I was okay."

Esme looked up from arranging a stack of architectural books on the coffee table, her topaz eyes full of concern.

"Of course he did. Brady has always been somewhat hard, very resilient, but I know he loved you. I've seen imprint bonds. It must have been very difficult for him."

"It wasn't….one of my favorite conversations, no."

Esme sighed, placing her delicate hands on her hips as she watched me from across the room.

"You were right to sort things out with him, Lexi. I've known Brady since he was a teenager and I know you've been a good influence on him. He's different than he was-"

"That shouldn't matter now!" Rosalie interjected. "Everything's different! And it's not her place to placate that grouchy mutt," she practically growled.

I shot her a pleading look that she ignored.

Esme gave me a shrug.

I turned, pretending to rearrange a vase of fresh flowers, not wanting them to see the reaction my face had to that comment. I couldn't deny that an unsettling feeling had been gnawing at my gut since seeing Brady. I knew what the emotion was, but I wasn't entirely sure I was ready to let myself feel it yet.

Rosalie quickly put my thoughts into words, putting a hand on her hip.

"He needs to suck it up. I simply don't understand why he would ever play the victim here. Lexi is the one who had her entire life ripped away, not him. How is this her fault?"

Esme didn't respond, and I knew Rosalie was right. Turning, I met her gaze over my shoulder. She offered me a sympathetic look, but her eyes hardened again and I could tell she was probably cursing Brady in her mind.

Her words stuck with me as I drifted through the rest of the day, unease sticking with me as I replayed the events of the night before in my flawless memory. Part of me felt silly for expecting stubborn Brady to have changed – after my time as an unchanging immortal, I somehow expected those around me to change and grow while I was left behind. I shouldn't have been surprised for Brady's selfish, angry words the night before – I should have expected them.

I flipped the page of my book with a soft growl, punctuating my thought out loud. I'd been perched in the upstairs hallway's window seat for the last hour and a half, trying to make my way through Wuthering Heights. Edward had loaned me his wife's copy, assuring me that it would be a quick read. To say I was frustrated with the characters in it was an understatement. It was a book I'd had to read in school a few years ago, but I didn't miss the way the storyline bore striking similarities to my own situation. I wasn't sure whether to be annoyed with Edward or thank him for encouraging me to read it. I went back and forth with Catherine and Heathcliff – some chapters I thought of their love as a love that transcended everything around them; other times, I wanted to throttle them both for being so innately senseless to one another.

I groaned, letting the book fall from my pale hands into my lap. I couldn't bear to read another sentence. While the story was worlds apart from my own, something about it gnawed at me.

Outside, the weather matched my mood. It had rained all day, effectively ushering in a misty evening. The rain had stopped, but the world outside the plate glass window below looked damp and soggy as the greenery around it slowly peeked out. I'd hunted with Emmett after Brady left the night before to quell my aching throat. I couldn't complain though - being around Regan and Claire again was like a balm to my soul. After the life changing seriousness of the past six months, having simple girl talk with them had been enough to make me just forget everything for a while. But, I'd had to pay my penance for my time with them – even if I had been able to not attack them, I'd paid the price with a burning throat by the time the 'prom' was over. I'd drained two deer not far from the house and had walked back at a human pace while Emmett continued on North for a run. Propping myself up against a tree just out of sight of the house, I'd sat up all night and let the events of the evening play in my mind, over and over. My eyes, unblinking, had watched as the baby ferns around me had taken hours to slowly unfurl from their tiny coils, sprouting their fronds.

I'd eventually realized that the rest of my life would be that way – watching things around me grow and age and change until an entirely new cycle occurred and everything started over. Only I would remain unchanging.

With a sigh, I closed the worn cover of Wuthering Heights and let my head rest against the window. In all my months away from Forks, I'd imagined my homecoming with Brady so many different ways, which was stupid really – Brady was rarely predicable, unless it came to his temper. Even then he surprised me sometimes. But I hadn't really expected it to go the way that it had.

I hadn't expected him to look as bad as he did – skinnier, with dark circles under his eyes and a hollow look about him.

I squeezed my eyes shut to try to comb my fuzzy human memories for something different. Blurry pictures taken with my mind's eye gave me the image of him I'd hoped to keep. Slowly, the back of my eyelids provided the proper canvas to remember him by, the trees and ferns growing up around him in rich greens and browns, providing the perfect backdrop as he stood in my memory. He was tall, tan, and strong, every inch of him covered in sinewy muscle that was hot to the touch. Brown eyes blazing, he'd stared at me in my memory, his eyes going straight to my soul.

But that wasn't how he'd looked last night.

Closing my eyes, I reflected back at what was the same.

His voice.

His smell.

That was one thing that had surprised me. Of course I'd seen him before leaving for Alaska, but in the hurried frenzy of hunting my captor and keeping my human family safe, I hadn't really been able to concentrate on the way he smelled. I'd heard my vampire family complain and bemoan the way the wolves smelled many times before. Esme had enlisted most of the family in cleaning, airing out, and wiping down every surface of the home they now shared with Seth. It was no secret that vampires loathed the way the shape shifting pack smelled, even if they were on decent terms.

My own secret was that I didn't hate it as much as everyone else had. In fact, I didn't think Brady stunk at all, much to my surprise. He was different, yes, but disgusting? Certainly not. The familiar blend of his spicy cedar and fresh air scent was not exactly what I would consider disgusting – not by a long shot.

Damn it, I thought, bumping my head against the glass of the hallway window seat. I knew coming back to Forks would be difficult, but how would I have known?

Our time here was limited – this I knew. Carlisle and Esme had already sat me down and explained why it was dangerous to linger here. I couldn't be seen by anyone other than the pack and my friends, for fear the word would get back to my family that I was still 'alive.' As far as my father and Patrick knew I'd run away out of the blue last winter. Of course that was a horrible lie, but it was the only way to protect the last person I'd been seen with – Brady. The Cullens has masterfully crafted the story and given false trails all around the Pacific Northwest for months after my disappearance, so there was no way I could be seen in town. Word would travel fast and I'd ultimately put both my dad and Patrick in danger if they were to see me this way – pale, marble skin, topaz eyes, and devoid of all my humanly freckles and even the chicken pox scar above my left eye.

My father would know in a second that something was off. That something unnatural had happened. In my mind, the fuzzy memories of his face showed me the scene: elation that I'd been found, studying me, his quick mind cataloging the differences. His features turning to horror as he realized I was far from fine.

There was another reason I couldn't go near my family, and I hated even thinking of it.

Patrick's face floated to the front of my mind, his warm expression and kind features. Even blurry, I remembered his smiling face and caring eyes as he spoke, his words muffled in my memory. Then, the scene in my head took on a darker tone as the monster inside of me reared its ulgy head, focusing instead on the beating artery in his neck. The enticing aroma of his blood was the only part of that equation that didn't take a struggle to remember – I could practically imagine what the perfect nectar pulsing through his veins would taste like. My thoughts turned crimson as I thought about the memory of the scent, letting it roll over my tongue. I could picture it flowing down my throat, soothing the dry, aching, burn-

I swallowed, my eyes flashing open.

"No," I whispered to myself. "No."

My hands no longer shook, but the word rattled around through my brain as I pushed the image of murdering Patrick out of my mind.

I would not think of Patrick as a meal, no matter how much I wanted to. Never before had I tasted human blood, and as much as my vampire side egged me on, creating murderous fantasies in my perfect mind – I didn't want to. I never wanted to know what it was like to take a life just as mine had been taken. The saddest part of that whole scenario was that I struggled to remember Patrick's face and the sound of his laugh, yet the aroma of his perfect, cloying blood was at the forefront of my mind. Shame rolled over me as I realized yet again what the penalty for my new life was.

I really was a monster. As well as I'd done with managing my thirst while within my newborn year, I was far from perfect. I'd never been one to like scary moves in the past, yet my mind and the demon inside it had no issue conjuring up gruesome murder scenarios before I could even realize it. I'd pictured killing humans dozens and dozens of times since waking as a vampire, and each time it sickened me. It sickened me to think that way and it was even worse that it was so effortless. My natural nature was to think about how to best kill.

That brought me back to Brady and the conversation we'd had the night before. After replaying it a million times in my head, I realized that the feeling in the pit of my stomach was actually anger.

Swallowing roughly, I tucked my hair behind my ears and pulled my knees up to my chest. I was still upset that he had been so selfish about my change. Of course it hurt him, I knew that, but it had also hurt me. My life had been ripped away, as well as my human life, mortality, sleep, and even my family, yet he'd run and hid like a coward when I'd needed him most.

I loved him still, but I wasn't sure that I would ever forgive him for that. The sheer weight of the realization that I would hold onto that grudge for the rest of eternity shook me.

Hugging my legs, I stared so hard at the soft, muted reds in the pillow of the window seat that I almost missed the distant sound of a thudding heartbeat. My head turned before I even registered why I was looking. It grew louder and louder and I realized I'd heard it before. Staring down though the high glass window, I watched the west side of the house as a figure emerged through the wet undergrowth. The little path wound through the woods and came from the direction of town and reeked like wolf, so I'd assumed it was a trail Seth used often. But this wasn't Seth.

Brady's eyes met mine through the glass, his gaze easily finding mine.

I stared at him for almost thirty seconds before remembering to blink.

"Wanna come out?" he asked. He didn't even have to raise his voice – he knew that my supernatural hearing would pick up the tones.

Slowly, I nodded. The words I hadn't said the night before were on the tip of my tongue, but how would I ever get them out? Shoving the book aside, I flew to my bedroom and threw on a pair of old hiking boots and grabbed my phone. Using the balcony off what Rosalie told me was Edwards's old room, I stepped off the two story deck like it was nothing and landed softly on the mossy landscaping. Brady met my eyes. Hands in his pockets, he sauntered over to me.

"You weren't busy, were you?"

"Doing what?" I asked flatly, brushing past him to walk into the forest. He didn't respond, but instead followed me down the worn path. More and more little ferns were unfurling from their coils each day, and I rather enjoyed the way the felt against the tips of my fingers as I brushed past them as I walked. Seth's scent hung in the trees – not a lot unlike Brady's, but different somehow in the essence and spice of it. Brady's footsteps behind me were heavy on the earth, but quieter than I would have thought. I moved soundlessly through the damp forest, not really sure where I was going but pushing forward anyway. He must have known how far was far enough to be earshot enough away from the house.

"Are you sorry I came last night?"

Glancing over my shoulder, I shrugged. "I did ask you."

"Right," he replied grimly. We'd walked for almost twenty minutes in silence in the darkening forest. It was still early evening, but the cover of clouds and lingering mists made it feel much later in the day. Reaching a small break in the thick undergrowth and trees, I paused to lean against an old tree trunk that must have been four times wider than me. Brady stopped as well, jamming his hands in his pockets again. I watched him sigh deeply, his heartbeat the only sound in the trees. He looked….relieved.

Ah, I thought. He'd explained that he'd felt better since I'd come back to Forks. The imprint bond between us wasn't entirely dead as I'd once thought. As hellish as he'd looked last night, he did seem to be in better spirits today. Maybe there was something to the theory then. But was that to be my role for the rest of his life? An ache shot through my chest as I pictured staying close to Brady as he lived out his days. In my mind, the picture of it was harrowing. Me, unchanging and frozen, watching over the love of my life as he changed, aged, lived, and eventually died. While I couldn't sleep or dream, the images that haunted my deepest thoughts still had the ability to creep to the front of my mind and frighten me. I pictured myself in a mossy, forgotten graveyard, surrounded by worn headstones. In my mind, my fingers brushed the leaves and debris off the names of all my loved ones. Mom…Dad…Patrick…my brothers…Clare…Regan…Seth…Brady….

Flinching, I looked up.

"So is this it then?" I asked, breaking the silence.

"Is what?"

"How it'll be. You coming around me to feel better, ease your pain?"

He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it. That was a first. Brady was speechless.

"No, it doesn't have to be."

A feeling I didn't immediately recognize shot through me at his words. I wasn't sure if he was lying, but I felt betrayed somehow. Bitterness, I realized. That was the feeling. Raising his head, he scanned me over again like had last night. He looked…perplexed. I glanced down at my simple clothes – worn jeans, the hiking boots, and a long sleeved, athletic shirt. The light jacket I wore over it was just for show, but it made me feel normal to have to wear a coat in the chilly spring air.

"Then why? Why come here? And why are you looking at me like that? Thought you saw what a freak I was last night. You don't have to stare," I snapped. "I know I look different."

"No, it's…it's not that," he grumbled. "You don't look like a freak, Lexi. If anything, you still look just like you did before. Minus freckles and….and the eyes, obviously. No tan."

"Yeah, sunlight doesn't have the same effect on me that it used to," I replied sourly. "Less sun kissed, more disco ball I guess you could say."

He stared at me, his eyes softening. "That's so weird. But you're not a freak," he said sternly. "Not at all."

I bit my lip. "Who are you trying to convince?"

He ignored my question. "What's with you? I didn't come around to piss you off. I don't want a ticked off newborn on my ass, that's just the icing on the cake. I thought you were okay with me hanging around you again?"

I was, really. But it all circled back to the fact that I was still angry about how we'd left things – last night, before I'd left for Alaska, the day I'd been attacked. I didn't want to fight with him right now, but the burning anger and resentment in the pit of my stomach kept me from just letting him off the hook. I couldn't let it go.

"Oh, is this about you again?" I quipped before I could bite my tongue.

He looked at me, but his eyes didn't flash like they did when he was angry. No, this time they flashed with defeat.

"What?"

I swallowed the venom that gathered around my tongue – a pitfall to my kind – and took a breath. I knew he was already beaten and I hated the idea of kicking him again, but I couldn't find a way to not say it.

"Is that what I am now? A balm to ease your wounds? A Band-Aid?"

He straightened from his slumped position, inching closer to me as he held my eyes. I dug my fingers into the wet bark of the tree I leaned against, watching with unblinking eyes as he inched closer.

"Is that what you think?"

Shrugging, I looked away. "It would seem that way, wouldn't it? You're fighting the urge to kill me, and-"

"Lexi, I am not. I don't want to kill you. Or even hurt you. Hell, since you've been gone I've done nothing but try to avenge you!" he spat, his dark eyes suddenly wild. Mine widened in surprised, and he calmed himself. "That is…when I wasn't in a drunken, passed out stupor."

I looked away, hurt again that he'd suffered so much in my absence. I knew he'd handled my change badly, but neither of us were at fault for what had happened to me that day. I understood that.

"You really didn't find him then?" I asked.

He kicked at the dirt and I watched the muscles in his neck and jaw tense.

"No. He's crafty."

Giving him a nod, I crossed my arms and tried not to seem afraid. Of all the blurry human memories I had managed to keep through my agonizing transformation, I loathed the fact that his blood red eyes were the clearest thing I could remember. While heights could no longer hurt me now, I could still remember the feeling of the sickening vertigo of being dangled over Brady, high in the tree tops. I barely remembered that day, but I would never forget his sickening eyes as he tortured me. An anger I didn't recognize boiled though me as I thought of him, practically making me seethe.

"You okay?"

Brady's voice pulled me from my thoughts. I realized I'd been standing statue-still, my eyes probably burning with rage. Managing to nod, I took a deep breath of the forest air.

"You're sure I don't…smell….appetizing?"

I glared at him. "No, you don't…smell like a meal."

He bobbed his head once, his eyes scanning over my form as I watched him. Listening closely, I realized his heartbeat sped up a slightly as he watched me leaning against the tree.

"What….do I smell like?"

Blinking in surprise, I straightened. "Not…like food. Human smell…good, but in an appetizing way. You don't have that."

"What, like my wolf stink, as Rosalie says?" he rolled his eyes.

Frowning, I shook my head. "No, you don't stink, exactly. It's distinct. I would always know wolf scent. It's…woodsy, but not…unappealing."

Embarrassment flashed through me as I tried to put into words the way Brady smelled. That was the one thing that had surprised me the most upon spending time with him the night before. He didn't sink – not by a long shot. Avoiding his eyes, I reached down and snapped off the nearest fern frond and began shredding it with my fingers.

Stepping closer, he sighed. The scent of him made my head swirl slightly. I couldn't look at him.

"I'm sorry I haven't caught him. In all this mess, that was the one thing I wanted to do for you. Catch him and rip him to pieces. I even fantasized about burning him and sending you a box with the ashes," he laughed darkly. "I always was such a romantic, wasn't I?" he grinned at me, his dark eyes flashing.

The memory, blurry as it was, seeped back into my mind's eye.

Letting the side door slam behind me, I made my way to the garage where Brady was working. He was already smirking, and I knew he was the culprit.

"Can I help you?" he asked, tossing me a flirty smile.

I bit back a laugh. "What was all that about?"

"What?"

"You know. The roses."

"What roses? He feigned surprised, turning around from his work. "Some guy sent you roses?"

I rolled my eyes. "I know you know today is my birthday, Brady, and my dad and Patrick certainly didn't get me two dozen red roses sent to me in the lunchroom with no card."

"That was nice of someone."

"Yeah, well...needless to say, it drew quite the attention. You're so ridiculous," I laughed. "Not to mention the flowers on my dresser. Those were ten times more beautiful, but isn't breaking and entering still against the law?"

"Is it breaking and entering if your bedroom window is unlocked?"

I gaped at him in surprise. "You climbed up the side of the house and into my window with a gigantic vase of sunflowers in your hand?"

He shrugged, still looking innocent. "Who said it was me?"

"Brady...what is it with you and trying to lay some big wolfy claim on me?" I laughed. "You should have seen the faces of the kids at school."

"Good," he chuckled.

"Just...chill, alright? I'm not dating anyone else."

"I know. I mean obviously if you were dating someone, it would be the joker that sent you two dozen roses."

"Right," I giggled.

The memory was blurry, and I couldn't remember what Brady was even doing on my dad's garage that day. I didn't remember if it was sunny or raining or even what time of day it was, but did remember the way I'd felt at the romantic gesture. It was the first time someone I wasn't actually related to me made me feel that level of special. I hoped I never forgot.

"You were….wonderful," I said slowly, meeting his gaze.

He stared at me, slowly inching forward. I started to move backwards against the tree, but was stuck as he slowly reached his hands out to touch mine. The same shocking electricity I'd felt at his touch last night shot through me.

"I will catch him for you. And I will kill him," he swore solemnly, gripping my cold, marble-like hands. His dark, warm brown eyes bore into mine with an intensity that made it hard to look away. I swallowed the venom that had pooled in my mouth and managed to look down at our hands. My pale white, icy ones in his large, calloused tan ones. We were like night and day, polar opposites.

"Brady…" I slowly pulled my hands from his, our skin sliding together until the touch was broken. Looking up at him, I shook my head.

"I can't even touch you now?"

I sighed, closing my eyes for a moment before opening them to gaze up at him. I had to tell him how I felt.

The silence felt so utterly real in that moment; it highlighted the imaginary chasm between us. A soft wind twisted through the ferns, ruffling them slightly as I silently willed myself to say the words I needed to say to him.

"I'm…..I'm still angry with you."

Turning away, I leaned against the tree. I heard him exhale sharply.

"What?"

Pushing away from the bark, I brushed past him and out into the small clearing. "I'm angry. With you. With the way you handled this whole thing."

Brady stayed put, only glancing at me over his shoulder. "What are you talking about?"

Swallowing, I glared at him and turned to face him. "After my change, you…you just left me. You left me with strangers and disappeared. I was so afraid and you were just…gone."

"You left too."

I flashed to his side before I could think, my anger boiling up inside of me before I could control it. I felt very much the vampire as I challenged him. He didn't flinch, but his eyes widened slightly as I hissed sharply. "I had to leave so that I didn't slaughter Patrick!"

"What?"

He turned, his face drawn in confusion.

I hung my head, slinking away from him. Swallowing the venom in my mouth, I fought to regain my composure.

"I went to my dad's house to….check on them and Patrick was there. His blood was….it was a mistake. I shouldn't have gone and luckily the Cullen's caught me, but not before I smelled his blood."

"Patrick?" Brady asked, his eyebrows knit into a deep frown. "What's so special about him?"

I shuddered at the all too vibrant memory of his cloying blood.

"I don't know. I can try to explain, but….Some vampires have a…a singer. It's blood that's just too tempting, so perfect and fragrant it can make you mad with thirst. It can challenge even the most practiced vampire with how good it smells. Every bit of control or tie to who you are goes away and all you can think about it killing them for their blood. It makes your throat flame up a thousand times worse than any other human because their blood is just calling to you," I sighed, remembering the feeling with a vivid clarity. Wincing, I turned to him. "So now you know why I had to leave."

He shook his head resolutely. "You wouldn't have killed Patrick, Lex."

"You weren't there," I clenched my teeth. "I would have killed anyone in that moment. I was, am a monster, Brady. So, what was your excuse?"

Brady watched me carefully, turning to face me. Shame was etched onto his features, his eyes dropping to the forest floor. "I…couldn't handle it when I lost you."

"But you didn't lose me! I'm right here!"

"It doesn't make any difference now," he snapped, his jaw clenching. "I thought I had. I had no idea what you'd wake up to, and they wouldn't even let me stay. I had to leave when you woke because they were afraid you'd kill me. We had no idea what your control would be like, or if you would even have any. They sent me away."

"You couldn't have come back!" I spat, whirling around. "Since when do you take orders, you…you stubborn ass!"

My voice rang out in the forest, and I knew without a doubt that I would have exploded into tears had I been able to. As it was, silent sobs started to wrack my body. I met his eyes and knew that whatever was broken between us might never be fixed. I'd loved and lost and had my life taken away from me, and nothing about it was fair.

And I had forever to let that sink in.