A/N: Hello, readers! I hope you all are having a wonderful day today. I wanted to let you all know that in the next few chapters things are going to start to pick up quickly. She's in La Push now, safe and sound, but her old demons are coming back to haunt her. Well, enjoy the new chapter! Happy reading!

Chapter Nine.

Jean Clearwater was, in all senses of the word, beautiful. For being in her late forties, she was hot. No, it isn't weird because she's my step mom. I sat at the dining table, between dad and Leah, across from the beautiful women I would soon call mom. If she lets you, a voice rang in my head. Maybe she doesn't even want you.

"So, Breanna. How are you feeling?" I looked up with a mouthful of mashed potatoes, swallowing roughly. Okay, Breanna. You can do this. She's just your dad's pretty wife. Everything is fine.

"I'm great, Jean. How are you?"

"I'm fine, dearie. Just a little tired from the work at the hospital." She turned towards my dad with a bright smile, all teeth and happiness. God, I wish I could be as pretty as her. "Mrs. Stanley's daughter came home to visit with a nasty flu, threw up all over my office. I had to cancel my other appointments and wait on the janitor to come clean up. It smelled horrid!"

"Ew, vomit. Isn't her daughter Jessica?" Leah asked, grunting as she swallowed some meat. Paul chuckled from his seat next to her, chugging some water from his glass. Jean nodded, cutting her meat with her fork. Such poise. "I've met her before. She's been hanging around Jacob a lot lately."

"Isn't he fixing her car?"

"Probably fixing more than that." Paul mumbled through a full mouth, slowly with a gulp as Leah kicked him in the shin underneath the table. Jean smirked over at her.

"I'm sure both of their intentions are innocent. Jacob needs a good friend right now." A tense silence filled the air. I scooped up another spoonful of potatoes and gulped them down. Damn, these are good. "Are you excited about starting school, Breanna?" Oh, right. School. I was going to be one of the only white girls on the reservation.

"Totally. Maybe I'll make some friends."

"I'm sure you will, you are a very sweet girl." I felt a large grin pull at my cheeks, my face flushing. It was nice to be complimented. I rarely ever heard it.

"What grade are you in again, sweetie?" Dad asked, shoving some meat in his mouth.

"Eleventh. I probably will have to retake it, though. I wasn't able to go to school for awhile."

"Why weren't you able to?" I looked over at him, taken back by his seriousness. My chest started to clench.

"It's not a big deal, dad."

"Why weren't you in school then, baby? Were you sick or something?" The room was so hot, I could barely breathe. Leah looked at me with worried eyes, big and brown. They just made me feel worse. She cleans me up, and at the easiest question I start to fall apart. "Honey, talk to me."

"No," I rasped out, setting my fork and spoon down on the table. I brushed my hair from my sweaty forehead. "I wasn't sick."

"Breanna, are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Jean. I just feel a little sick is all. I haven't eaten a meal like this in god knows how long."

"Honey, please answer my question. Why weren't you going to school, or at least getting your late work?" Just breathe, Breanna. He is your dad and he won't think any less of you.

"You know how I had that boyfriend that hurt me?" I felt his jaw clench, but he nodded. I breathed in deeply before continuing. "Well, awhile back I burnt dinner for us and he did it again, only it was way worse."

"How worse?"

"He broke my left arm, leg, and a few ribs. It took a while to recover, and mom was too busy to go and pick up my work. She wasn't home."

"What about your friends?"

"Nobody wanted to be friends with me because I lived in such a disgusting place. Well, I mean, except one person. But she moved away before the beatings started. We lost contact."

"He broke your arm, leg, and ribs?" Dad sat his silverware down and pushed away from the table. "I can't eat right now. I need some time to think." He rolled swiftly out of the doorway and into the living room. The sound of the TV clicking on caught my attention. I looked down at my plate with reddening cheeks. Good job, Bre. Way to go. Abusive ex-boyfriends are a great topic. When a warm hand clutched my own, I looked up in surprise. Jean's golden one squeezed mine, and she gave me a supportive smile.

"He just needs some time, sweet heart. Don't worry. Your dad loves you." I nodded and attempted to give the smile back, but tears rose to my eyes and rolled down my cheek. "Sweet heart, don't cry."

"Why are you being so nice to me?"

"Why wouldn't I be? You've given me no reason to."

"I have to give you a reason first?" The room became silent, and everyone looked at me. Leah put a hand on my shoulder, patting it.

"Breanna, was your mom rude to you for no reason?" I just nodded. The room felt so tight, and my face felt hot. Why do they keep touching me? I took in a harsh breath. I have to get out of here.

"May I be excused?"

"Breanna, answer the question." I could feel my body start to shake. God, why do they care? This is my life, and they weren't in it before a few days ago. I just want to forget about it.

"I can't talk about this right now, okay?" I yanked myself from both of their grasps and turned towards the door, walking through it. Taking the stairs two at a time, I made it to my new bedroom and locked the door, throwing myself onto the bed as I fell into an exhausted sleep.

There was a knock at the door two hours later. I could tell by the alarm clock that sat on a bedside table beside mine.

"Breanna?" It was Jean. She tapped her hand against the cream door again. "Sweetie, can we talk for a moment?" My head ached, and my throat was tight. Should I, I asked myself for second. What if she starts asking about stuff again? I rubbed my puffy eyes with the back of my hands. I really don't want to risk talking about it. "Breanna, please let me in." With a deep breath I stood up and made my way to the door, pausing at the doorknob. It can't be that bad, Bre. You've been through worse.

Jean stared at me with worried eyes. We were eye level, and I was pretty sure she could tell I had been by how puffy and swollen my eyes were.

"What is it?" I asked her in a scratchy voice.

"I think we need to have a talk, dear."

"About what?" I backed up a step. "Did I do something wrong? I'm sorry I didn't eat all my food at dinner. I just suddenly felt sick."

"Honey, a panic attack is nothing to be ashamed of. A girl in your situation has a lot to be stressed about." How did she know?

"I wasn't having a panic attack." I looked down at my striped sock covered feet. "I don't know what you're talking about." Jean's soft hand grabbed my chin and lifted it up until we were eye level again, a stern look on her face.

"Breanna, you can't lie to me. I'm here for you, whenever you need to talk and are in need of listening. You have many things bottled up inside." Swallowing a lump in my throat, I felt my face flush. Her caring brown eyes bore into my own, a small, worried smile gracing her lips. How am I supposed to say no to her when she keeps looking at me like that?

"I will," She ran a hand through her now unkept hair, bouncing the brown curls down her back. "I just need some time." Jean nodded and pulled me in for a tight hug, crushing me with her love. After a few seconds she pulled away and stepped towards the doorway.

"Goodnight, honey." She whispered.

"Goodnight, Jean." I whispered back in a tight voice. As she closed the door I felt everything got hot and tight; I could barely breathe. I fell to my knees with my arms wrapped around myself tightly, and I was thrown into a massive panic again.