A/N: Yes, this took me forever. I'm so terribly sorry, and I haven't really got a proper excuse. It's just that I haven't been in the 'twilight' mood lately. But now that it's up, I'm looking forward to starting on the next chapter.
Now, this chapter is sort of… crazy. That's all I can say. But I hope that you guys enjoy it and that it will be worth the wait. Happy new year everyone!

Chapter 3: Blood in the Woods

"You're going down to Seattle to stay with your uncle Jerry for a few days," my mother announced one Sunday morning, "Bertha (Jerry's wife) is sick with the flu and no one's around to keep their eye on the twins."

To hide my taken-aback expression, I looked down at my feet; which after four days since their burn, the toes had turned a lovely shade of red, not to mention the blisters that popped up all over them. They were just absolutely fabulous looking. Not.

But that wasn't important, not even to my mom. All she ever wanted was to please her family, and I could understand that, but sometimes she took it a step too far. Jerry and Bertha didn't need me; all they had to do was hire a babysitter until Bertha recovered. Besides, I was only sixteen and I had absolutely no experience with children. Nor was I interested in looking after them.

I had my life to live; not that it was much of a life, but it was mine and I wanted to live it.

Plucking up the courage to be honest with my mother, I met her eyes. "No, I can't."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me, mom. I can't, I've got things to do."

Furrowing her eyebrows, she scrutinized my face. "Things like what exactly?"

"Things… like studying and, you know, teenage stuff."

"Does this teenage stuff have anything to do with spending time with an old lady?"

My face paled. "Mrs. Carmichael? No, what made you think that? I haven't been in there since this-" I pointed to my feet "-happened."

She smirked. "You don't think Joan doesn't talk to me?"

"No…" I trailed off, confused by her behavior.

"She called me that night you burned your toes, told me a certain someone took good care of you, doted on you as though you were special, and even took you home. And you know who that certain someone is, Lakota."

Yes, of course I did, Jacob Black.

But he hadn't doted on me at all; he had just been being kind to me, probably because of all the nasty things he'd said to me before the accident. And he took me home? Well, even I wasn't sure about that, I had just woken up on my couch. No one had said anything.

"And what's wrong with that? At least he gave a damn."

"He gave a damn? Lakota, he verbally attacked you two weeks ago! Didn't you ask me whether he was crazy? Weren't you really upset? Or am I mixing him up with someone else?"

"I-"

"No, don't answer that answer that question. I don't like Jacob Black and I don't want him anywhere near you; not in the streets, not in school and certainly not in Joan's house. He's painting it from top to bottom and while he's there, I don't want you in there."

"But mom-"

"No! Can't you see I'm protecting you? That boy has mental problems! And I'm not going to let him get to you. Now, you are going to Seattle, end of."

There were no words to describe how angry I was with my mother. I knew she was just sending me away to keep as much distance from Jacob and me as possible. Joan must've said something to her to bring out all this madness. She wasn't even this upset when I told her about the incident on the porch.

Balling my hands up into fists, I stormed out of the living room and out of the house; making sure to slam the door as loudly as I could.

Life was so unfair.

What had Joan been telling her? That Jacob and I were taken to each other and had the chemistry soul mates possessed? That we were up to no good in her kitchen and that had lead to the accident? It must've been something similar to that because I couldn't think up anything else that would work my mom up so much.

And so what if Jacob and I got on? Yeah, I still didn't like him after the way he treated me on my own porch and probably never would. But what made it their business? I was a grown girl, I was a teenager, I wasn't a baby. The choices I made were mine to make, unless they were completely reckless. Talking to Jacob was nothing! And certainly nothing compared to some of the things a lot of teenagers get up to.

It was times like these that I wanted to move out. Living alone would be so much easier.

I missed dad…

"Lakota."

It had been two hours and I was still sitting out on the porch, pissed off.

"Lakota, answer me."

"What?" I snapped, not bothering to look at her as I sat on the steps.

"I'm going to work now, but I want you to promise me that you won't do anything stupid."

It was then that I looked up at her face. "Stupid? Mom, I never do anything stupid. You know that."

She sighed. "I know honey, but you understand what I mean. Please, don't go in there. I'm terrified of anything happening to you when I'm not around. I love you."

I looked away and stared off into the distance. "Fine."

"You promise?"

"I promise."

"You're a good girl," she said, bending to press a kiss to my cheek. "I'll see you later, hopefully."

And then she was gone.

And I was alone.

And Jacob arrived at Joan's.

So I went back inside to avoid temptation.

I didn't understand what was tempting me though.

So I made brownies to distract myself.

But then I realized there were too many to waste.

I knew Joan would like them…

… maybe Jacob would like them too?

But no, I promised my mother.

I wouldn't ever disobey her.

So I began to eat them.

And eat them.

And eat them.

I made it through four, but couldn't eat the rest.

Maybe Jacob would like them too?

"Lakota! What a pleasant surprise," Joan greeted, smiling brightly at me.

I gave her a smile in return, handing her the plate I topped with freshly baked brownies. "I thought you might enjoy these."

"Oh, lovely." She took them from me and inhaled. "They smell wonderful. Thank you dearest."

"You're always welcome, Joan. Anyway, I better go, I've got lots of housework to catch up on," I told her with a sigh.

"Can't you come in for just a little while?" she asked innocently, her green eyes boring into mine.

I took a step back. "No, I promised my mom the house would be spotless when she got home. I've been slacking a lot lately."

Of course I hadn't promised her that at all, I'd promised her a completely different thing. A thing I couldn't repeat to anyone. Not even Joan.

A crash in the kitchen startled us both and with one look at each other, we knew who it was; Jacob Black.

"Lakota, dearest." She reached for my hand with her free one, encasing it in a cold but firm grip. "Come in, just for a little while."

"I'm sorry, but I really can't."

"Nonsense! All I ask is for ten minutes of your time, that isn't much is it?"

Another crash in the kitchen had me glancing worriedly down her hall. "N-No…"

"Come on." She tugged me towards her gently. "It'll be over before you know it."

I really wanted to kill myself when I stepped inside and allowed her to shut the door behind me. This wasn't me; I wouldn't break my promise to my mother. Yet, here I was standing, the intoxicating smell of fresh paint invading my nostrils, reminding me that I had done something wrong, that I wasn't where I was supposed to be. My mother would be so disappointed in me. How could she ever trust me again?

Noticing the worried look on my face, Joan said. "Ten minutes is all I ask, now wipe that expression off your pretty face and smile for me like you always do."

Joan began walking down the hall, me trailing behind her. She paused by the living room's open door and gestured inside. "Isn't he doing a fantastic job? The color cream really suits this room; I don't know what I was thinking with pink."

"Yes," I said softly, paying no attention to the walls but to the boy who was painting them in his spoiled white t-shirt. He looked over his shoulder at me from where he was standing across the room, our eyes meeting for a moment. And my heart picked up its pace from that action alone.

"Come," Joan said loudly, snapping me out of it and I quickly looked away, my cheeks burning.

She proceeded to show me the kitchen, explaining how much she loved the yellow paint and how glad she was that Jacob agreed to do the job for her. With a wide smile on her face, she threw so many questions at me, most of them revolving around her 'amazing' painter. But I knew better than to act interested, after all, wasn't she the one who'd made up all those things about Jacob doting on me? What would be next?

It was when we both sat down at the kitchen table that it dawned on me; I was playing into Joan's hands.

She knew all along that my mom didn't want me in here around Jacob, and yet she insisted I come in and offer her my company. Joan was up to something, I didn't know what it was, but she was definitely up to something. And now I was screwed because I was too stupid to realize it in the first place.

What was I going to do?

The doorbell answered my question for me.

Joan's grandson Tyson arrived, bags and all, wearing the biggest smile on his face. He was quite a nice looking guy; brown curly hair, big green eyes, strong jaw structure, great smile. And he was also sharply dressed in a pair of black khakis, a matching black shirt and brown leather shoes. Yes, Tyson was the type of guy that knew how to look good. I was even admiring him, despite the fact that I was a girl.

Tyson also had a great personality; very friendly, lively and outgoing. He introduced himself in the most charming manner, sat down in the most proper way and spoke in the most perfect voice. This twenty-something guy knew how to start a conversation and keep it going.

And this twenty-something guy was just like his grandmother Joan.

When Joan left the kitchen for a moment, he turned to me. "I hope she's not driving you insane, it couldn't be healthy for a young girl such as yourself hanging around an old lady like her."

I laughed a little too loud in response.

"Tyson!" Joan walked back into the kitchen, grinning. "I want you to meet Jacob, the lovely fellow who agreed to paint my house and to put up with me."

And in walked Jacob with all his muscularity.

And gone went my laughter when my eyes settled on his.

There was a fire burning in them.

Tyson got up out of his seat to shake hands with Jacob, while Jacob only gave him a glance before returning his eyes to mine. They were searching, looking for something in my grey ones, and because I didn't understand, I broke eye contact and stared down at my hands folded in my lap.

"Lakota, dearest, would you slice this cake for me while I make us all some coffee?"

I nodded, took the knife from Joan and sunk it into the strawberry cake.

"Mrs. Carmichael, thank you for your offer, but I really need to get back to work. The room is almost done."

"Nonsense, Jacob! Sit down, relax, I haven't even offered you anything since your arrival."

"No really," he said hoarsely. "Thank you."

I looked up just in time to see him rush out of the room and cut my finger because of my momentary forgetfulness of what I was doing.

"Are you alright?" Tyson asked, concerned, eyeing my finger as I stared down at it.

"I'm fine." It was just a little cut, nothing to worry about, happened all the time

"Not another accident!" Joan exclaimed, coming to stand by me.

"It's nothing, really." I said dismissively. "Don't worry about me, I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself. I've been doing it for years."

And years was right, mother was never home, always at work.

Joan squeezed my shoulder. "I'm glad you're alright. Jacob seemed embarrassed, didn't he?"

I shrugged.

"How about you take a slice of cake into him? He'd probably prefer to eat alone."

"I should really get going," I said, suddenly remembering.

"Stay," Tyler said, smiling. "I haven't even gotten to know you."

"Lakota here has a lot of housework to do, god love her."

"Yeah…" I trailed off, moving to stand up.

"Well take this into Jacob on your way out, will you? And thanks ever so much for the brownies. You're a doll."

"I'll be seeing you," Tyson called after me, a smile in his voice.

As I walked down the hall, towards the living room, I was tempted to just run home. But something stopped me from doing so, I could only describe it as a pulling sensation on my chest and it brought me closer and closer to Jacob. Maybe it was because I was thankful he'd been so kind to me the time I burnt my feet or maybe it was because I didn't want any hard feelings between us, whatever it was, it felt right and before I knew it, I was standing in the middle of the freshly painted room, the plate shaking in my hands.

"Lakota." Jacob sighed, turning around. "What are you doing?"

"Bringing you in some cake…"

He nodded, took the plate from my hands and set it down on the mantelpiece behind him. "You didn't have to do that."

I looked away. "I know."

"You didn't have to come here either."

My eyed snapped around, my eyes flashing to his. "What do you mean by that?"

"You know what I mean by that."

But Jacob couldn't have heard what my mother had made me promise. He hadn't even been there at the time.

"I'm sorry Jacob, but I don't," I said, taking a step back. "I have to go, bye."

Jacob snatched hold of my wrist, halting me. "Everything isn't what it seems, Lakota."

My eyebrows drew together in wonder and confusion. "What do you mean by that?"

"That's for you to figure out," he said, brown eyes boring down into mine.

It was when I standing right there in front of him, at exactly two-fifteen in the afternoon, that I first felt this unexplainable burning in my heart. Starting right from within my chest and spreading throughout my whole being. At first, I remained still as his fingers tightened around my wrist, but when the fire consumed me and my heart palpitated in the oddest way, I gasped louder than I normally would, and clutched at my left breast.

I was positive I was going to pass out.

At the suddenness of my strange reaction, Jacob's eyes widened and I was pulled into his chest; the warmth of his skin soaking through his thin t-shirt, enveloping me. My gasps and moans of fear and fright muffled against him, as he began to stroke my back with a shaky hand, the other holding me tightly around the waist.

This lasted for about five minutes, before my heart-rate died down and pumped at its normal pace. However, my arms and legs had grown weak from whatever had happened to me and I remained slumped against Jacob, feeling comforted in his embrace.

"I thought I'd- Oh! What… Lakota? Dearest? Black, is everything alright?"

"I don't know," Jacob told her gravely.

"Shall I fetch her some water? She looks so lifeless-"

"-I'm taking her home," he interjected, lifting me off my feet and into his arms in one swift motion. "I'll be back."

He began to walk, but Joan had to put in yet another word. "It seems you're always taking her home, Black," she remarked, voice laced in suspicion.

But he ignored this and walked on past her.

Upon reaching my front door, Jacob tried twisting the handle, but it was clear the door was locked. So without asking, he slipped his hand inside my pocket, found the key and let us in. All the while I remained both silent and motionless.

Kicking the door shut behind us, he took me into the living room and lay me down on the couch; making sure my head was supported by a cushion, like a perfect gentleman.

"I don't know if I should get you anything… medicine I mean," he said unsurely, standing by me.

And then I wept.

I wept because I was terrified it was going to happen again, because it was such a horrible feeling to experience, because I was afraid of being alone. Jacob wouldn't be around if it were to happen again and neither would my mother, I'd be all by my lonesome.

I was going to die alone.

Turning onto my side, I buried my face into the cushion, not wanting him to see me cry. I hated to cry in front of others, I found it so embarrassing and so humbling. It put me in such a vulnerable and pitiful state; one of the many reasons why I hated remembering the incident in the kitchen. And I always made sure to hide my feelings when I was upset, except around Jacob. Yes, this would be his second time to see me cry in less than a week.

"Lakota," he said softly, resting a hand on my shoulder. "Don't cry."

But I continued to cry.

"What happened there, it's nothing to worry about, it's not life threatening."

Words would not find me.

"It burns, but it doesn't kill. I promise."

Confused, I waited for him to speak again as the tears still flowed.

"Your heart beats for one, Lakota. But not for you."

At this, I looked over my shoulder at him and asked. "Who does your heart beat for then, Jacob?"

"I'll tell you, someday."

"There'll be a someday?"

He smiled a fine smile. "That's for me to know, and you to find out."

"Am I going to die, Jacob?"

I thought he wasn't going to answer my question because he turned away and began to leave. But when he reached the doorway, he paused.

"No," he told me. "Not while I'm still alive."

The following week passed by painfully slow; I cleaned, I cooked, I took walks and I stayed away from Joan's. In fact, each and every day I would wake up expecting Joan to phone my mom and tell her I had been over when I shouldn't have been, but to my surprise she never did. This both relieved me and confused me. Had Joan been innocent all along?

On the upcoming Saturday, I was being sent to my uncle Jerry's against my own will. You see, I was supposed to have gone Monday, but Jerry had called to tell us Bertha wasn't feeling so ill anymore. But that was short-lived; her flu had actually come back full force on Thursday, one-hundred times worse than before, that she ended up having to go stay with her sister.

So it was up to me to take care of the twins while their father worked. Wonderful.

And the worst part was that I had no idea how long I was going for. I just prayed to the heavens above that Bertha would make a full recovery as soon as possible.

But what was the rush? I should've been happy I was doing something during my summer holiday, even if it was looking after two extremely wild five-year-olds. Last summer, all I did was whine and complain about spending it in La Push. No wonder my mom had a migraine that year. But now… I didn't know what it was, but I suddenly felt attached to the rez.

It was Friday night; I had just been to the local store and was walking the ten minute walk home. I had been craving ice-cream all day, so after sunset I decided to buy a pot of Ben & Jerry's and indulge myself. The street was unusually quiet, except for the chirping of crickets everywhere, and realizing that I was the only person out, I pushed my feet faster, a sudden sense of fear overcoming me.

The problem was I couldn't escape the lurking woods. No matter which path I took, its dull and dark wilderness was always by my side.

I wasn't one to be afraid of the bush, I had lived surrounded by it my whole life. But there was just something about this night that left me feeling uneasy.

Deciding I couldn't take it any longer, I took the right turn that leads me down to First Beach. I could hear sounds of talking, music and laughter in the near distance, and I knew that there must be a group down at the beach. This offered me some relief, but the more I walked, the more I felt that someone or something was watching me.

Then I heard a rustling coming from across the road by the tree line and I ran.

By the time I neared the happy group of teenagers, I was a breathless mess. I couldn't even make out who anyone was as my eyesight had grown blurry. All I could think about was the fact that I was safe.

"Lakota?" a familiar voice called.

I couldn't respond, I couldn't breathe, and my heart was beating too fast.

"Lakota!" another familiar voice boomed.

My knees buckled beneath me, I gasped and then my head hit the sand.

Everything went black.

As I regained consciousness, my body still felt limp and my eyes still not ready to open. But my hearing was at full attention.

"I should call her mom," a voice said.

"No, just go, I'll look after her," another responded, deeper than the other.

"Dude, she's shaken up! Something must've happened! Her mom needs to know ASAP!"

"No, no, nothing happened. She's fine."

"What the hell?"

"Seth, go!"

"She's my classmate! I can't just leave her here with you."

Shuffling, footsteps, whispers, and a hiss followed. However, I couldn't make out any of what was exchanged between Seth and whomever he was talking to.

Next, I was lifted up off the ground and into warm arms, my cheek resting against a burning chest. This all seemed awfully familiar to me, but my thoughts were a jumbled mess so I found it hard to put the pieces together.

"Lakota, can you hear me?" my captor asked after a while.

My eyes fluttered open at last and I found myself gazing into none other than Jacob Black's eyes. "J-Jacob? What…" I turned my head, scanning the area, wondering where I was. Apparently, I was in the woods. "Why are we… what…? Jacob…"

"Look, I don't know anything. It's your fault I'm wasting my time here with you. What happened?"

The bitter tone to his voice took me aback. "I-I don't know, I…" and then it all came back to me; the store, the ice cream, the walk, the woods, the stalker… "…the woods, Jacob."

He rolled his eyes. "What are you on about? I haven't got all day."

"Somebody…" I trailed off, knowing he didn't care to hear what happened. I'd save it for mom later.

"Somebody what?" he spat out.

"Nothing!" I pushed at his firm chest, signaling for him to let me down. "Let me go!"

He held me tighter. "Stop!"

"No! Let me go, put me down! Jacob!"

"Stop it! Stop struggling! Lakota!"

I squirmed all around in his arms, trying to get loose. But Jacob was too strong, it was no use. "Jacob, put me down right now!"

"No!" he shouted so loud that I flinched and coiled away from his menacing stare.

Under the blue hue of the mystical moonlight, Jacob's face appeared hard and worn. The dark circles under his eyes signifying his lack of sleep and the permanent scowl he wore implying he'd seen better days. He was still beautiful nonetheless, that strong jawbone always got me, but Jacob's beauty only ran skin deep. His soul was ugly.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" he asked through gritted teeth.

"Shut up, Jacob."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. Now for the very last time, put me down!"

"Answer my fucking question and I'll put you down!"

"No, just-" I pushed at his chest again, his dark skin turning red at the pressure of my hands "-put me down!"

And then he dropped me to the floor, except this time I didn't hit my head, but I hit everywhere else.

I looked up at him, angry tears filling my eyes and his lip trembled, his eyes sparkled, but before I could see any emotion come to his face, he turned and ran away.

"I won't forget this, Jacob!" I called after him, disgusted. "I won't forget how you hurt me out here, and how you left me out here, feeding me to all the creatures lurking in the woods. You're a pathetic excuse for a man, Jacob! You're going to be the death of me, I can feel it! Every time I'm around you something bad happens! My mother was right; I should keep away from you! I'm so glad you've done this to me! Now I know who you really are, who-"

"Stop!" he screamed, suddenly by my side; hands in his hair, pulling at it from the roots. "Stop! Stop! Stop!"

I scrambled away from him, afraid of what he was capable of.

I was right; he was crazy.

But he was driving me crazy. "Kill me, Jacob. I know you want to. Do it," I hissed like a lunatic, standing on wobbly legs.

"Lakota! Stop! Stop! I can't take it! Stop!" he was begging, on his knees with his head in his hands. Choking sounds coming from him.

"You did this, you were following me! You hate me, you've hated me ever since that day on my porch." I was crying now, but so far from acknowledging it. "You dropped me now because you wanted to hurt me, to cause damage. Would it make you happy to see me in a wheelchair, Jacob? Would it?"

Jacob fell forward, his face in the earth as he started to weep. The muscles in his naked back trembling as the cries shook his body.

Seeing him in such a broken state only escalated my anger towards him. Jacob Black made me feel things no one else had ever made me feel. Actually, I hadn't even ever experienced this sort of anger my whole entire life; it coursed through my veins at lightning speed, causing an internal burn within me. I was ready to explode.

I just couldn't get over the fact that he had dropped me. A huge man like him dropping a fragile girl like me was just unacceptable. He could've easily broken me from the height he allowed me allowed to fall from. I was lucky I had no serious injuries, except for a few bruises and cuts. I was so damn lucky. But I just couldn't believe he'd do that; physically hurt me. I was even considering not telling my mom because I was so ashamed I was with him after everything she said. Then again, it hadn't been voluntary. He found me passed out on the beach… and so had Seth!

"You should have left me! Not Seth!" I shouted down at him. "Seth is more of a man then you'll ever be. You disgust me."

He groaned out painfully, his body beginning to shake.

"I hope you rot here, Jacob, out in the woods. Just like the filthy creature you are."

I was going too far, I knew I was. But I was so angry; I wanted to tear him apart. Then I wanted to run.

"I hate you," I whispered.

All hell broke loose.

I spun on my heel, ready to make a run for it, when I saw him begin to look up. Stupid girl, I thought I had a chance with him on the ground and me on my feet. Little did I know how wrong I was, or I would've run way before.

His hand caught me by the ankle, tripping me up, and I fell to the ground with a loud thump. Despite the pain, I tried to crawl away from him on the muddy ground, but he was already next to me, his arms tightening around my waist, holding me firmly in place. I struggled, my legs kicking around like a baby, but it was no use, he had me.

So in the awkward position I was in with his chest pressed to my back and my chest pressed to the ground, I tried the only thing that came to mind.

"Ah!" he cried, my heel connecting with his manly parts, causing him to loosen his grip on me.

And then I scrambled away as fast as I could, jumped to my feet and ran again. I could hear him coming after me, but I didn't dare look back. As I pushed my feet faster, I headed deeper and deeper into the woods, the darkness almost completely blinding me. However, I didn't let it get to me, not when there was a psychopathic painter on my trail dying to kill me.

As quickly as I could, I made a turn and when I spotted a bush, I ran up to it and hid behind it. Hoping and praying to god that Jacob hadn't seen what I'd done. But it was dark, he couldn't have.

That's when I noticed how quiet it was…

"I'm going to kill you now," a voice whispered.

I spun around, coming face to face with Jacob and my life flashed before my eyes.

"Watch me," he said, gripping my chin in his hand and forcing my face downwards.

"Jacob," I gasped, fear-stricken.

"Watch me!"

"Jacob!"

"You want this."

"No!"

But he didn't listen and plunged the hand knife into his side, blood spluttering out of him.

I was so close to fainting at the grotesque sight before me, but I wouldn't let myself, I couldn't leave him for even a second. He was right when he said he was going to kill me; seeing this made a part of me die inside.

Falling to my knees, I reached for the knife lodged deep inside of him, wanting to pull it out. But he swatted my hand away, growling out. "You hate me; you wanted this, well now you get it."

Jacob's blood began to drizzle out around the blade, flowing down over his naked skin, killing him.

"Jacob, I don't want this," I cried, reaching for the knife again.

He caught my hand and held it. "You hate me!"

"I don't."

"You said you did!"

"I was angry!"

"You meant it!"

I looked up into his face and saw that he was still crying, the tears running freely from his brown eyes. My heart soared. "Jacob, I don't hate you, I swear, I don't."

"You do."

"Jacob!" frustrated, I pressed my forehead to his abdomen and closed my eyes. "I don't hate you."

"Prove it then, Lakota. Prove it!"

"We have no time for this, Jacob." I began to cry again. "You're going to die."

"If I die, you'll be happier," he said weakly; this alerted me.

"No," I said.

"She'll be happier, everyone will be happier."

I didn't know who he was referring to, but I denied it anyway. "No."

"Nobody wants me."

"That's not true, Jacob."

"It is." He gulped.

"Your father wants you, your family wants you."

"Maybe."

"Jacob." I don't know why, but I pecked his skin; his perfect russet skin.

"Lakota…"

"Your wife will want you someday; your children will want you someday."

Those twelve words saved Jacob's life.

A wounded Jacob Black carried a horror stricken Lakota Reeves all the way home. They spoke not a word to each other and when he set her down on her front porch, he kissed her cheek before she turned away from him. He couldn't tell what she thought of the gesture, she was a mess, but somewhere deep inside of him he hoped she liked it.

"Jacob," she said worriedly when she reached the front door, glancing down at his gaping wound.

"Don't worry," he told her, offering her a reassuring smile.

She brought a hand up to her mouth to muffle a sob and his whole body cried out at seeing her so sad and so broken. But he remained still and kept himself composed. His poor imprint had seen enough of his madness.

"Please, Jacob."

He shook his head, "No, Lakota. I'll be OK."

"Jacob." Her eyes were red rimmed from all the tears she cried.

Lakota wanted to take him to hospital, just like any sane human being would, but Jacob refused. His werewolf healing would look incredibly suspicious to the doctors and nurses. So he'd just call Carlisle Cullen over to his house for a checkup. But he knew he'd be fine, the blade didn't penetrate him as deeply as it appeared to.

"Trust me."

Defeated, Lakota nodded and turned around to unlock the door. Jacob took that as his cue to leave, but couldn't bring himself to. He wanted to watch her.

"I'll see you, Jacob," she whispered as she began to close over the door.

"I'll see you too, I promise."

"Goodnight, Jacob."

"Goodnight, Lakota."

All alone once again, Jacob turned on his heel and began the walk home.

Upon reaching his home, he decided to enter through the back door so as his father wouldn't die of a heart attack at the sight of his wounded and bloody son. There was no mistaking that his injury wasn't a result of a vampire attack, or even an attack from one of the pack members. That it had been a direct and very human attempt at taking a life. The crazy part being it was he who had intended to take his own.

The wound burnt and hurt like hell, but Jacob could feel his insides healing themselves and coming together again. He believed he would be fine as soon as morning came.

But Carlisle Cullen had a completely different story to tell Jacob.

"Infected?" the young wolf cried out in disbelief sometime around midnight.

"I'm afraid so, Jacob."

"What does that mean? Am I going to die?"

"Not while I'm still alive," he remembered himself saying to Lakota a week ago when she had asked him that exact question.

Carlisle shook his head. "Not if you take your medication at the times I'll instruct you."

"So that's it? Medication, that's all I need?"

"We'll see," was all the vampire said.

It was three in the morning when Jacob finally got himself comfortable in his tiny bed. His bandaged wound was irritating him and he had a need to tear it off, to get the annoying material off of him. But he knew he needed to be obedient or he'd never recover. Stupid boy never thought of what the consequences of stabbing yourself with a dirty knife would be.

And then as he laid there, eyes closed, he allowed himself to feel the things he should be feeling for his imprint. However, this only made him feel worse. He was overcome with this extreme want and need to be with her and before he knew it, he was gasping for air. His heart beating so inhumanly fast that he thought it would break from his chest.

Image after image of them together flashed before his eyes; cuddling, swimming, dining, playing, touching, hugging, kissing, loving. So many possibilities, so close but so out of reach. He did not love this girl, nor did he know this girl, but she made him feel things even Bella hadn't.

When Jacob thought of Bella, he felt love and attraction. He wanted her to want him; he wanted to be her first choice. And he wanted everything a relationship could offer with Bella; including sex. Yes, he had imagined Bella naked and trembling beneath him as he moved inside her. That fantasy alone was one of Jacob's biggest wishes… once. But now? He couldn't even go there.

Did he want to do that with Lakota? No.

But that didn't make any sense, she was his imprint. Ah, but then Jacob realized what was wrong there. He didn't want to pound his innocent imprint into his white sheets; he wanted to make love her tenderly. He wanted to handle her with care and he wanted… he wanted…

"No," he groaned.

Jacob wanted her to carry his children.

"Oh god no, what's wrong with me?" he felt like crying.

The door opened, Billy appeared. "Son, get some sleep."

And blocking those thoughts from his head as he usually did, Jacob eventually fell asleep and dreamt of Lakota.

When he woke up the next morning, he believed he was going to die.

Carlisle was called immediately.