"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.

Chapter 4: Princess

Renesmee threw open the door, her hear pounding in her chest. If Jacob left, she knew that she would be a goner. There was no way she could even handle being alone for fifteen seconds, much less all night. Her nerves were already making her want to jump out of her skin! She knew she had to get to him and fast. Rounding the corner, she winced a split second before colliding with Jacob.

"Hey!"

"Ow!"

She ran into him with a thud. He leaned against the wall for support, as she fell helplessly to the ground in a clumsy heap, after running straight into him.

"Ow…I…I thought you left?" she asked, rubbing her throbbing funny bone.

"I did!" he snapped, his dark eyes glinting. She opened her mouth, but only a small squeak of surprise came out.

"What are you doing out here?"

"Nothing…" she grumbled. Jacob gave her a look that clearly said he didn't buy her answer.

He winced slightly, rising up from his crouch against the wall. "Why do you always have to hurt me somehow?"

She shrugged from her place on the floor, looking around the hallway. She was glad they were still alone.

"So what were you coming out to say?" he prodded, crossing his arms.

Renesmee looked away, suddenly embarrassed for feeling like such a chicken. "I…" she stuttered, avoiding his gaze. He reached a hand down, offering her some assistance. Surprise fluttered through her as she reached up, grasping his hand, and allowed him to pull her up.

"What?" he prodded, still holding onto her hand.

Renesmee glanced down, feeling sparks of pleasant electricity sizzling through her hand where their fingers were joined.

"I was just coming out to…say that…I'm sorry, and…" she practically choked. Something about the way his dark gaze held hers gave her goose bumps.

His face showed his blatant surprise at her words. "And what?" he asked in disbelief.

"I…I don't really…want to be alone," she admitted bashfully, dropping his hand.

Jacob looked down where their fingers had just been joined, surprise registering on his face.

"You would want me to stay?"

She let out the breath she had been holding and gave him an awkward shrug.

"Well, after what happened…"

"I don't have to…."

"Do you need me to spell it out for you? I'm scared shitless, okay? There! I said it! I'm scared. I'm scared of what would happen if I spent the night alone."

He gave her another amused look.

"Well…" he stammered, his expression softening, "I guess I could stay…for a while. Just to…make sure you're all right," he said softly.

She felt herself smile slightly, unsure of how she should act. When he was being stubborn and a know-it-all, he was an ass. However, when he was nice, he was quite sweet…and very, very hot.

"Come in?" she asked timidly, putting her hand on the door.

He nodded, following her inside.

"I…wasn't expecting company," she admitted sheepishly, suddenly shy. "Do you want something to drink?"

He looked around the space, scoping it out and only half listening to her question.

"Ah…no, I'm fine," he muttered, walking over to the windows. Renesmee noticed how out of place he seemed to look in her mostly white and beige apartment. With a click, he tested the locks on each one in the living room.

Renesmee watched him carefully, ducking into the kitchen to pick up a glass. She poured herself a glass of wine, in hopes that it would soothe her frazzled nerves. In all the commotion, she had barely had a chance to remember that her best friend was gone. A feeling of sadness settled over her momentarily as she stared down into the red wine.

The color looked hauntingly familiar.

Blood, she thought. Would she ever be able to think of anything else again? Taking a sip, she took a deep breath and shook her head at how silly she was being.

Jacob looked up from his personal investigation of prodding around her living room, raising an eyebrow at her. "Distraction?"

She shrugged, settling the bottle down on the counter. "Maybe. My best friend turned up dead yesterday. Can't I have a glass in her honor?"

"Never said you couldn't."

"Do you want some?"

"I'm not a wine type of guy," he admitted slowly, looking over at her.

Renesmee sighed, picking up her wine glass to take a long chug. "Well, I'm not sorry."

"Didn't say you had to be. You're a big girl…do what you want."

She rolled her eyes, walking around the counter back into the living room. "You really came here because Charlie asked you to?"

He nodded. "I do anything Charlie asks me to."

Renesmee snorted. "Suck up much?"

He glared at her. "To you, he might be a grandfather. To me…he might as well be an encyclopedia of how to be a good cop. He's…"

"He's Charlie," she said flatly.

He scoffed at her, following her over to the couch. "He's an amazing cop. He's fair, he's decent, and he's braver than everyone down there at the station put together. His number one goal in life is to make this city safe for everyone."

Renesmee watched as he walked around the sofa, giving her apartment a disgusted look. His eyes returned to her, his expression softening. She felt her breath catch in her throat a little as she watched him watch her with his big, dark, expressive eyes. They seemed to have no problem reflecting whatever type of emotion he felt.

"I'll um…be right back," she mumbled, suddenly realizing she was in pajamas, with her hair in a messy ponytail, in front of a very hot, very muscular man that she barely knew. He didn't seem to notice her exit from the room as he continued to observe her surroundings.

Racing back to her bedroom, she quickly shut the door, before darting to her closet. She pulled a soft, long, white cashmere sweater out, pairing it with a lacy black camisole top to peek out underneath. She kept the satin pajama pants, stepping out of her ridiculous bunny slippers. Yanking her long, bronze curls out of the messy ponytail, she frantically tousled and finger combed them into somewhat of an organized mess. Dabbing a little lip gloss on her mouth, she assessed herself in the mirror.

You're being stupid. He's hot, but he's an ass. And a cop. A cop that works with Charlie.

Her mind continued to argue with itself, making her stomach jump and twist with nervous confliction. While part of her was happy she didn't have to be alone in her apartment with a killer on the loose, the other part of her didn't quite know how to take Jacob. Most guys fell at her feet to charm and please her; if they didn't know she was a Cullen, one of the most prestigiously rich and social families in the city of Seattle, they knew she was beautiful. Renesmee had never once in her life had trouble attracting guys. But somehow…she sensed that Jacob would make her work for it. That aspect of him both intrigued and insulted her. She primped for a few more seconds in front of the mirror, before walking back out to see what her unexpected guest was up to.

"So…you're close with Charlie, huh?" she asked, entering the living room again.

Jacob was busy examining the pictures on her wall near the fireplace.

"Yeah…" Jacob trailed off, studying a picture of her with Charlie when she was a child. She had been eight when the picture was taken, and she had been on a weekend camping and fishing trip with her grandfather.

"You like to fish?" he asked, his voice tinged with hope.

Renesmee snorted as she walked over to him. "Not anymore," she laughed. "Gross."

"You sure don't seem like you are, uh…related to Charlie."

"Are you always this rude?" she asked, folding her arms again. He was hot, but he had a mouth on him, even she had to admit.

He turned, looking at her with an amused smirk. "Down girl. I was just saying…pretty posh," he said, gesturing to her surroundings. "Charlie doesn't come from a lot of money, or at least, he doesn't act like it."

"Well, I don't…I mean…" she stuttered.

He gave her another knowing nod as he flopped down on her couch, putting his heavily booted feet onto the table with a loud clunk. Renesmee winced, hoping his ugly boot didn't damage the expensive coffee table her Aunt Rosalie had sent her from Europe.

"Ah," Jacob replied, leaning back. "Say no more. Daddy."

"What makes you so sure?" she asked with a frown.

He chuckled knowingly, rolling his eyes. "Please. Charlie said you work in advertising, and you've only been out of school for a year. Now, no offense, Princess, but how much money could you possibly make? Not enough to afford these swell digs, I'm sure."

She frowned, walking over to sit on the chair opposite the couch. "I might come from some money. But what does that matter?"

Jacob watched her, his tan, smooth face void of all emotion. "You could quit work tomorrow and never have to work a day of your life, wouldn't you, Princess?"

"Quit calling me that," she snapped. "What does it matter? I work because I like it. I enjoy having a purpose in life, thank you very much."

"Right," he scoffed. "Anyway…do you care if I crash right here? This couch is pretty comfy." He sat up to take off his jacket.

"You're staying?" she asked, her eyes wide.

He nodded. "Don't you want me to? I figure if your friend comes back, it will probably be tonight. He won't want you to get far, I'm guessing. Or he might not want to come back to the scene of the crime at all. I have no idea – that's the unpredictable part of guys like tha—" He stopped mid-sentence, noticing Renesmee's wide, scared eyes.

"Sorry," he muttered. "I didn't mean to scare you."

She shifted in her seat, avoiding his dark gaze. Standing up, she made her way to the linen closet to gather a few things for him to use to sleep on her couch.

"Where should I put my gun? This all right?" he asked, taking his gun belt off and dropping it on the coffee table.

"Why do you have a gun? Do you need it in my house?" she asked nervously. She had never really cared for weapons of any sort.

He gave her a perplexed stare. "Uuhh…don't you expect a cop to maybe…carry around a gun? What did you think I would have, a light saber? No, Princess, I carry a gun like most cops do. And wouldn't you want him to use it if he had to, oh…I don't know, kill a crazy psycho who is out to get you?"

Renesmee's mouth snapped shut. "Well…when you put it like that," she muttered. "Do you want a blanket?"

"Nah. I'm good," he said, shaking off her offer for a pillow and a blanket. Kicking off his boots, he lay down on the couch. "I should be good here. Try to get some sleep, Princess," he said with a wink.

Renesmee began to protest, but said nothing as he settled down on her couch. His jeans and t-shirt didn't appear to be all that comfortable, but he didn't complain.

Renesmee watched as he lay back on the couch, stretching out in an effort to get comfortable. As he moved, the bottom of his t-shirt rode up just enough to reveal a peek of his tan stomach and the light trail of hair that faded into his dark jeans. Blushing, she turned away and paused in the doorway.

"My room is right here…just…make yourself at home, um…" she rambled.

"I'll be fine, Princess," he muttered nonchalantly from the couch.

She bit back a laugh. "My name is Renesmee," she reminded him.

"Either way, that's a mouthful. Couldn't your parents decide on a name?"

Rolling her eyes, she shook her head and shuffled down the hallway to her bedroom. "Just go to sleep."

She was surprised how easily she was able to find sleep that night. For the first time in hours, she wasn't thinking of bloody, mangled bodies and psycho killers lurking outside of her window, waiting to seek revenge. Instead, her mind drifted to something completely different – the tan skinned, lusciously muscled man sleeping on her couch. As much as she tried to not think about how attractive he was, she knew that her efforts were pretty much hopeless.

She drifted to sleep and was not awoken until hours later.

Creak. Creak…creak.

Her eyes flew open. She had almost forgotten. In the midst of avoiding her girlish crush on Charlie's coworker, she had almost let James slip completely from her mind.

And yet, as the distinct sound of someone walking on the fire escape outside her window broke through her sleepy mind, the image of James' dark, haunting eyes once again became clear.

The noise stopped. Whoever it was paused. There was the sound of metal against metal behind her gauzy curtains, and Renesmee's heart began to pound.

He's trying to get in! her mind screamed. Jumping up quietly, she tried to control her breathing, as her sweaty palms searched for something hard to strike him with.

Yeah, right, she thought. Her breaths were heavy and nervous as she crept through her dark bedroom. The noise continued; it was quiet, but apparent that he was trying to get in.

Suddenly, a hand clamped over her mouth. She jumped, her body tensing completely as she realized someone was behind her, their arm clamping around her waist. His hot skin burned into her back as she came in contact with his body. His grip on her was tight, but not menacing. Relaxing slightly, she turned, his hand still over her mouth.

Her eyes widened when she realized it was Jacob.

"Shhh…" he whispered, his dark eyes bright.

She could barely see anything in the dim light of her dark bedroom, but she could tell that he wasn't messing around. Whoever was outside on her fire escape was still trying to get in.

"Go lock yourself in the guest room. If I yell run, go down the other side of the fire escape," he whispered almost silently. His warm breath blew against her ear, making her shiver slightly as the adrenaline coursed through her body.

She nodded as he slowly released her from his grip. He stalked forward carefully, motioning for her to go. Renesemee hesitated, gasping to herself when she saw his gun tucked carefully in his jeans. He was wearing nothing but his untied boots and the same faded, slightly sagging denim that he had been earlier; however, now she could see that he was shirtless.

I should be running in for my life and all I can think about is how he looks shirtless! she chided herself. Her heart continued to pound as she hurried back to the guest bedroom, locking herself in. There was silence for a few minutes – or was it hours? Time stood still as she waited for something – anything – to happen. With shaking hands, she turned the lock on the door.

How had her life gotten to be such a mess? Two months ago, she was graduating from college, partying with her friends, and saying goodbye to her loving, but boring, boyfriend Mike. As much as she loved him, he was more of a friend at that point. He was perfect to her – always opening doors, agreeing with her, and doing anything he could to keep her happy. However, that wasn't what she was looking for in a partner. Mike never fought her on anything, and she needed more excitement than that. The sex was predicable and ho-hum after just two years of dating, and the more she had thought about marrying him, the more suffocated she'd felt. She had been enjoying her time in the city as a carefree socialite, never attending the same club more than twice and drinking girly cocktails to her heart's content, as she lived up the single life.

The sound of something large and glass breaking cut through her thoughts.

There was another series of loud thumps and bangs, and she covered her mouth with her hand in a mixture of fear and shock. There were a few more sounds, and suddenly, everything went quiet. Renesmee could still feel her heart pounding in her chest as she listened to the silence.

I've never heard silence this loud, she thought with a few shaky breaths. Then, when she was about to open the door and investigate, she heard it.

A few loud, heavy footsteps and a soft rap on the door. "Renesmee?"

She exhaled loudly, still shaking with fear as it left her body.

"Jacob!" she gasped, lunging at him. Surprise crossed his features as she flung herself against his chest, hugging him tightly.

"Uh, you're welcome?" he laughed. He took a few deep breaths, tentatively hugging her in return.

"What happened?"

He glanced backwards, following her gaze to the broken window and torn up living room behind him.

"We had a…slight scuffle," he admitted, running his hand through his short, black hair. She noticed another cut on his arm and one on his chest, but otherwise, he looked all right.

"J-James?" she stuttered with wide eyes.

Jacob glanced back at the disheveled living room again and nodded.

"'Fraid so. Listen…he's gone. He knows I'm here, and he won't try anything again."

"I'm….I'm so glad you were here," she choked out. He gave her a look of surprise, but it quickly turned smug.

"Yeah, well….just doing my job. No need to get all emotional."

She frowned, making a slight face. "I wasn't getting emotional. Ass."

He grinned at that. "Well, it's alright, you can if you like…."

"Jacob…"

"Call me Jake when you whine at me, Princess."

"Shut up!"

He grinned at her, wiping one of his dripping cuts. She glanced down at his bare chest in shock, surveying the damage.

"He had a knife?"

Jacob shrugged nonchalantly, avoiding her gaze. "Yeah…or something. Got me a couple times…but I'll live."

She swallowed, looking away. If Jacob wouldn't have been there tonight, she would be sushi right now.

"I'm glad you're…okay," she said, suddenly shy.

He nodded, giving her a light shrug. "Sure, sure. So uh…he's pretty determined. I think you need to get out of town. Soon."

Reviews are like skipping town with nothing to protect you but Jake and his big tan muscles. So review? Please?

I hope you are enjoying my short story as much as I enjoy writing it!

As always, twitter convos are welcome! : ) (at)twilightcakes