Her eyes burned into the door handle, waiting for it to move. Then…it did.

The metal twisted, moving slowly but surely as the latch clicked open. Mentally, she kicked herself for not locking it; she had been so out of it with exhaustion that she had completely and stupidly forgotten to lock it.

With another click, the door swung open, and a large figure stepped in. Renesmee closed her eyes, sucked in a deep breath, and swung the vase with all her might.

Chapter 3: Intruder

It came in contact with her victim with a resounding crack, the pieces shattering and falling to the floor.

"Ow!"

"Ahhh!" she screamed at the same time, jumping back. The noise startled her, even as prepared as she was for the strike.

"Holy fuck, what was that for?"

Opening her eyes, she gasped suddenly. There in her doorway was the large, amazingly attractive Native man from the police station. His eyes were half closed in a pained wince as he held his arm, his jaw open in shock.

"You…you hit me with a vase?" he gasped.

Renesmee whimpered, still frozen in shock and fear.

The man winced again, reaching into his shirt pocket. He opened his eyes enough to open his wallet, showing a shiny, bronze police badge, just like Charlie's.

"Ohmigod, I thought you were…I thought you were an intruder!" she gasped, covering her mouth with her hand.

He made an astounded face at her, clearly un-amused.

"An intruder?"

"Well…yeah."

He gave her a befuddled look as her eyes lit up with recognition. It was indeed the hotter than hot man that she had spied earlier in the day. The same one that had taken her breath away with his rugged good looks. She swallowed, wincing at her accident.

"You're from the police station!"

"Um, yeah?"

"Oh God…I hit you!"

"I came to protect you!"

"I didn't know that!"

"You hit me!"

"You broke into my apartment!"

"It was un-freaking-locked!" his loud voice boomed.

Renesmee jumped slightly, surprise registering on her features as the loud sound resonated.

"Is this how you repay someone who was sent to protect you? Sheesh," he muttered, rubbing his arm where the vase had shattered.

Indignance flared in her stubborn mind. How dare this handsome stranger come up into her apartment and snap at her?

"Um, you might have thought twice before sneaking in here like some weirdo! What were you doing, anyway? Did you ever hear of doorbells?"

He looked up from his arm, his dark eyes instantly lighting up. Renesmee felt her insides twist as he gazed angrily at her. "Did you ever think to lock your door? I could have been your hunter, ready to waltz in here and make you—"

He stopped, realizing that Renesmee's eyes had glazed over slightly with fear.

"Uh…"

"Make me what?" she prodded, her voice shaking.

He stopped, closing his mouth. "Nothing…never mind…er…but did you have to hit me with a vase?" he asked softly, rolling up his shirt sleeve.

Renesmee gulped slightly as she took in the view of the wide, tan band of muscles that covered his arm. There were several cuts from the vase that were already oozing blood.

"I'm sorry. I was just…freaked out. It's been a long day, as you've probably heard down at the station. Ah…sorry. Renesmee," she offered, holding out her hand.

"Jacob, but everyone calls me Jake."

"Jake," she repeated softly. "Well, under different circumstances, I'd say it's nice to meet you…but these aren't exactly nice."

"I've noticed," he mused, looking over all the shards of vase scattered around the floor.

"Do you want a band aid?" she asked softly.

He looked up in surprise, his own expression softening as the shock of what had just happened faded. The adrenaline was pumping through the entry way where they stood, making them both a little on edge. As she calmed down further and led him to the kitchen, Renesmee became aware once again of how utterly good looking and statuesque this man was. She watched with eager eyes as he rinsed off his arm in her sink, accepting a towel to dry it off. When she handed it to him, their fingers brushed. Her hear began to pound in response, but this time, in a good way.

"Nah…it should stop bleeding in a few minutes. I heal quick," he quipped, flashing her a bright smile.

She gripped the counter beside her, giving him a lopsided little smile in return. He wasn't all that bad when he wasn't being an ass, she thought.

"Yeah, I get a lot of bumps and bruises. This is nothing. But you really should lock your door," he added quickly. His voice had softened compared to earlier; he wasn't snapping at her for hitting him with a vase.

"Yeah... Why are you here?" she asked, turning her head to the side to look up at him.

He crossed his arms over his wide chest, puffing it out slightly with a visible pride and self satisfaction.

"To protect you, of course."

She raised an eyebrow at his smug answer. "Really?" she asked flatly, mimicking his stance.

He stared at her, his dark eyebrows knit together.

"Well, if you continue going around leaving doors unlocked, it's going to be a full time job. Not that it already isn't."

"What are you talking about? Did Charlie put you up to this?"

"He might have," he answered. "Would that be so bad? The poor guy is worried about you."

She shrugged, brushing past him to walk out of the kitchen. "I don't need hired help, if that's what you are," she replied, pulling her broom and dustpan out of the hallway closet. She began to sweep up her broken vase, eying him in the process.

"I'm not hired help. It's my job to protect people that need it…and trust me…you need it," he replied softly.

Renesmee avoided meeting his dark eyes as he watched her sweep up the broken pieces.

She swept up the rest of the pieces in silence, a shiver rushing down her spine. She knew she needed help; she had only been alone for a few hours, and already, she felt like her mind was abandoning all logic. What would an entire night do to her? She already felt like a nervous wreck.

"Well…either way, it's Charlie's orders to protect you at all costs. He doesn't trust your little…err, artist," Jacob muttered, looking at the mirror in the living room, where her bloody message had been scrawled.

Every time Renesmee looked at the large mirror above her fireplace, she saw the gruesome image of 'you're next' scrawled on it in Jessica's blood. The picture of her warning message from James had practically been burned into her mind.

"You've been here before, haven't you?" she asked, looking up from the mess she was cleaning.

He nodded, jamming his hands in his pockets. "I came by to scope out the crime scene, yeah. And well…Charlie was pretty shaken, I won't lie."

Renesmee looked back down, feeling embarrassed and ashamed to have drug her poor, kind-hearted grandfather into her messy life. Charlie had always been around, for as long as she could remember. His kind brown eyes and gentle smile had always taken her wild ways in stride, and she loved him dearly for that. Now, to have him worrying about her when he didn't need to, made her sick to think about.

"Yeah, well…Charlie's near retirement; he just doesn't need anything else to worry about. I wish he would just…give it up already. Our whole family wants him to," she said nonchalantly, sweeping up the last of the broken shards into the pan.

It was true. Five years ago, Charlie had been involved in a bank robbery stand off, and in the process, had gotten shot in the leg. After the accident, he admitted he had taken the bullet for a rookie on the force who was barely out of training. The bullet had barely scraped his thigh, but Charlie wasn't one to complain. It had given her entire family quite the scare – mainly her mother. Bella had taken two weeks off of work to stay at home with him and baby him back to perfect health. She had begged her father to retire, but he had laughed it off as part of the job.

Standing up, Renesmee walked past Jacob, to casually dump the swept up pieces into the trash.

"Chief Swan still has a lot of good years in him. He practically taught me everything I know," Jacob argued back, furrowing his dark eyebrows together. "When he says 'jump', I say 'how high?' because Charlie knows what he's doing. Hell, after nearly forty years in the game, he knows just about all there is to know. I don't take his orders lightly. If he says that I need to watch over you until this whole thing blows over, then…then I will."

Renesmee paused, closing the lid to the trash can. "Why do I feel like I'm missing part of the story? I mean…he's the old, experienced guy on the force, sure, but…why do you care what happens to me?"

She was being stubborn, and she knew it. Part of her really wanted the handsome cop standing in her living room to be at her every beck and call; however, her prideful side scorned the idea.

"I just…" Jacob frowned again, looking away. "I owe him, okay? But it's a debt I would happily repay."

"Meaning?"

"Never mind," he snapped. "From now on, things are gonna change. You won't go anywhere alone – and I do mean anywhere. We're also…" He walked over to the counter where her cell phone was. He flipped it off, tossing it back down. "…going to have to change the way you live. You have to be harder to find, harder to track."

Renesmee fumed slightly, running over to her phone. "What are you doing? You can't just go around switching off people's phones!"

"What does it matter?" he asked sourly. A cocky smirk crossed his features. "Worried your boyfriend won't be able to call or something?"

Renesmee scoffed, grabbing her phone. "No, and for your information…I don't have a boyfriend. I broke up with him."

Jacob's eyebrows raised momentarily, but he shook his head and moved on. "Well, either way, you need to be more careful."

"Careful?" she snapped. "I found my dead friend three days ago. Her blood was on my living room mirror when I came home last night. What do you think I've been doing since then?"

"I'm just warning you, that's all."

"Tell me something I don't know," she muttered, pushing past him.

His skin brushed hers, making the hairs on her arms stand up. She looked away, hoping he hadn't noticed her reaction. How someone could both infuriate and captivate her at the same time was inexplicably intriguing.

"Look, there's a killer out there, and Renesmee Cullen is at the top of his hit list. Do you want me to stay or go? It's up to you."

Renesmee crossed her arms. "Well, when you put it so lightly…" she answered sarcastically.

He sighed, grunting in frustration. "Are you always this impossible?"

Her eyebrows shot up. "Are you always this big of an ass? We just met, and already, you're giving me more orders than an indentured servant!"

She watched as his dark eyes lit up like black fire. God, he looks hot when he's angry, her mind thought without her control. Leaning back, she gripped the counter behind her and watched him stride around the living room. The way his sculpted body moved across the floor was almost like a animal; it was graceful, self assured, and with purpose. Her heart beat picked up slightly, the rhythm of it pounding in her ears.

"I don't have to keep you safe, you know. I could leave right now and not give another thought to what happens to you." Jacob turned around in front of the door, giving her a pointed stare.

Renesmee frowned again. "Fine," she challenged. "Then go."

He stared at her for a second, his eyebrows raised. Then, with a quick shake of his head, he turned the handle on her apartment door. It creaked open, and he began to step out.

"Don't say I didn't warn you," he added quietly, crossing the threshold. The door clicked shut, echoing slightly in her large apartment. It suddenly felt colder…emptier, without him there.

The solitude surrounded her, suddenly making her quite aware that she was indeed alone. Her parents were on another continent, her closest relatives besides Charlie were a six hour flight away. She was truly and utterly alone.

The faucet dripped in the sink. Somewhere outside, a car alarm went off. A plane flew overhead, and someone was yelling in the street. Her ice maker made a loud noise, signaling fresh ice, and she practically jumped out of her skin.

No, this wouldn't do.

Swallowing her fear and her pride, she raced to the door. Her bare feet move quickly against the tiles, propelling her forward, as she flung the door open and ran out into the hallway.

She could only hope she wouldn't be too late.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Please Review! I'd love to hear your thoughts on this, as I've never tried to write anything like this before.