Disclaimer: Everything Twilight belongs to Stephanie Meyers. I own nothing except the angst-ridden plot that symbolized some of the pain I have felt in my life. I do not intend on making it big off Ms. Meyers epic saga, I figured my career in retail management will make me famous and rich. LOL. Yeah, right?
A/N
I want to thank a few people that have encouraged me to write this fic. Princess and Boomer, thank you for your support and love. To StellaBellaBlue and Nimessara wherever you are, Thanks for helping me get started.
To the following supporters, helenemc, Kgunter34, chanahope, mcrfan78, MyDogSirius, Nikkipooh522, bonz245, chloe39, creampuf99, dexronon13, Dorri, gabita10, LeelaCullen, Meredith82, Viktualia, wanttoreadonly, Wen0201, Willstora20, I have seen your alerts, favorites, and reviews. You will never understand how much I appreciate those simple gestures.
To Content1, if I told you that I squealed like a fangirl when I saw your review would you believe me? You should, although I would more accurately labeled as an fanoldfeckin'lady. I have enjoyed Sins of My Past sooo much and to have you read my little story is amazing. If the rest of you have not read Sins of My Past yet, then you are missing out of one the best out there, the fact is has over 5K reviews is proof enough.
Lastly, I do not have a pre-reader or a beta. I did originally use SRP and the two I was granted vanished. So all mistakes are mine and for that I apologize. I chose not to try another beta service because if I am abandoned again it may leave long lasting scars on my psyche, therefore making my character suffer and believe me when I say they are going to suffer enough through this one.
Thank you.
Chapter 7
Chapter Flashback...
"Don't you say a fucking word to me. You were right. I didn't know you then and certainly don't fucking want to know you now. It was a mistake to come out here. I just wanted to..."
The words stopped coming out, frustrated I screamed. The echo of my voice rang through the trees that surrounded us.
His arms started to move toward me, but I backed away. Remembering my mantra before I decided that it was time to stop running. Now was the time to fight.
I balled my fist and made sure to keep my thumb out. Pulling back I put everything I had into it as I swung toward his face.
The crack, the immense pain, then blackness took ahold of me.
There is a place between conscious and unconscious that I desire to permanently reside in. It is here that I believe life really exists. The mental and physical pain is less intense. Happiness can arrive in the blink of an eye. There is no loss, no depression, and no expectations. It is just me in a world that I control. I float, I fly, and I live.
So when I feel myself being pulled away by the voice that has complicated my life and shattered my soul I open my eyes furious for the interruption. Brown meets green, girl sees boy, all bets are off. I throw my proverbial boxing gloves on the ground and place my feet onto the solid ground.
My right hand throbs in unison with the back of my head. Moving my left hand through my hair I find the spot that obviously broke my fall. I bring my fingers back to find some blood on the tips, wiping them on my jeans I turn my attention to the man before me.
His cheek is red, possibly swollen and I look again at my hand noticing similar redness. Smiling internally I am a bit happy to know that he feels pain because of me.
"Let me see how bad it is," he reaches out to touch the back of my head. I take a step backward to keep him from coming closer to me. Leaving enough room for an escape route.
"Don't," I say in an attempt to warn him. To keep him away. I have worked so hard to forget what his touch felt like, knowing I could throw all I have worked so hard for away.
"Bella, just let me see that you are ok," he asks. His words seem sincere, but I am cautious. I really want to just get up and walk away. From him. From Forks. From everything.
The slam of a car door breaks the momentary silence and forces us to acknowledge something other than him or me or the fuckery that has been haunting me for so long.
When I see the truck I know that it is Garrett. He is still dressed in his work clothes, faded denim with a sweatshirt zipped up. His boots are unlaced with the tongue folded down, a common practice the guys have after they finish the workday. As he walks across the gravel towards me I see that he looks concerned or maybe confused about my presence.
"Hey Bells, what are you doing out here?" he asks. His hair is messy and there is some dirt on his cheek. Although he is dirty it is obvious he is a very attractive man.
"Just checking up on some things for Emmett. What's up?" I say turning my attention to him and ignoring the man behind me.
Garrett glances around me and greets Edward with a nod of his head. No words were exchanged between the two and it is now that I remember that Garrett doesn't really care for him.
"I usually leave my tool box here, but I decided to get a start on the house tonight since I closed on it this morning. A few of the guys were coming over after dinner to help with some of the demolition," he answers. His grey eyes look into mine as if he is trying to pull my thoughts from my head.
"Bella is something going on here?" Garrett asks obviously sensing the tension. He looks at Edward and back to me. Waiting for something to be said.
"Miss Swan was just leaving. I had asked her to meet me out here to finalize some plans on the house," Edward interrupts. His tone cold and abrupt.
"Thank you Miss Swan. Have a nice evening," he says as he walks back toward his vehicle and drives away.
Garrett walks over to a small storage trailer and retrieves his tool box. I wait for a moment and I start to walk back towards my truck attempting to keep him from asking any questions. I just want to go home, ice my hand, and crawl into my bed.
"Bella, I hope you understand that it isn't your job to meet a client out here. Emmett would never expect you to meet any client out here especially alone at night. It is really dangerous," he says as he places the metal box into truck bed. Garrett walked over to me and opened my truck door.
I continued to lean against my own truck and look at the man in front of me. What I would give to be able to find someone like him. I wish I met him years ago and things would be so different. Garrett is handsome in a rough around the edges way. His body is athletic and muscular in all the right places. He is not as big as Emmett, but he is not a small man by any means. He works hard and makes time for his friends. Garrett would give you the shirt off his back if you asked and he treats everyone with kindness.
I once overheard him talking to one of the guys in the shop and I will never forget some of the things he said. He talked about wanting to find the right woman, settling down, and having a family of his own. That finding that someone special was a gift to never be taken for granted. But more than anything he wanted children, a family to love and provide for.
When I heard that tears fell from my eyes. I quickly wiped them away remembering Edward told me he wanted similar things.
Climbing into my truck he watched as I pulled the seat belt across my body then shut the door. I cranked the handle on the door and my window rolled down.
"Thanks Garrett for everything," I said and turned the key to start my truck.
"Anything for you. Good night and drive safe," he tells me. He backs away from my truck and watches as I pull away.
I can see him in the rearview mirror. As he walks to his truck the sky opens up and rain pours down. He stops, looks up to the sky and lets the raindrops wash over his face. I smile with a warm feeling that begins to flow through my body. Its foreign. I press on the brakes and put it into park, the engine still running.
Before I am aware of anything I get out of truck and I see that he is coming to me. The rain is cold as it falls and it feels refreshing. I think about what they say about rain or water. It's a baptism, a re-birth.
We stop just inches away from each other. His grey eyes are darker and tiny drops are sitting on his lashes. I look at him, really look at him and brush my fingers across his face. He is warm and I almost expect to see steam come from his skin. The next thing I know I am wrapped into his arms, his lips brush against mine. I sigh and give in as my arms wrap around his body. I don't think. My mind is clear as I give into his kiss.