A/N:

This one is all for jezzeria. My IQNGCS and bity for life. I puffyheart you always and will be here for you whenever you need.

Fuck work right now, this needs to be written. It may be angst, but that is all I'm really feeling right now guys. And it fits. Though it isn't very long. More soon, I promise

Twilight and its characters are figments of someone else's imagination.

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Chapter Nine.

Bella POV

My whole world had shattered. In that fucking instant that his car had disappeared around the corner and out of my sight I knew that nothing would be the same. All because of Jake.

Though that wasn't completely fair.

Jake may have been an unknowing bastard, but I was the bitch who had led him on.

My brain wasn't feeling rational enough to figure that out at first. Initially, I wanted blood. And I was sure as hell it was going to be the prick that was supposed to be my best friend.

I charged across the parking lot. I knew where I was headed. Jake was in the middle of the guys, holding them a captive audience with his fucking clown-like antics. Dick. At least I could feel comfort from the fact that his friends would all piss themselves after he got beat up by a girl. Especially a girl as small as me.

Bastards never thought I could take a punch, but I always proved them wrong.

"Jacob Black!" I bellowed as loud as I fucking could as I pushed through the pack of guys.

They all started catcalling and wolf whistling straight away. I wasn't in the mood. If anything, their reactions only intensified my steadily increasing anger.

I clenched my hands into fists as I launched myself at my confused friend. If he didn't know what he had just done to me, I was about to make it pretty damn obvious.

My left hand grabbed onto the front of Jake's shirt as the other began to repeatedly smash into his tanned face, a face that I had wanted to kiss not so long ago. I wouldn't manage shoving him onto the floor, but I was planning on doing enough fucking damage that he would crumble to his knees on his own.

The whistling and yelling had stopped. An unearthly silence enveloped me as I continued to throw all my weight behind my punches and into Jake's face.

I glanced down.

Big freaking mistake.

Jake's face was bloody. I'd cut his lip and made his nose bleed. Both his eyes were starting to go black. But he wasn't fighting back. His eyebrows were knotted together in confusion as he silently began to cry.

Fuck.

As soon as the tears started to trail down his face, he had me. I began to cry too. The sobs cracking the silence and weakening my anger.

I dropped onto the floor and curled into a ball, hugging my knees with all my might. What the fuck was wrong with me?

The hard gravel scratched against my face as my deep sobs shook my body and took over my thoughts completely.

"Bells?" The soft voice questioned as a warm hand rested on my heaving arm.

I couldn't respond. I could barely hear it. All I knew was that there was pain in the voice, pain that I caused.

The warm hand was moved under my head as I was picked up from the floor and cradled. The giant arms clinging onto me with all their might, their owner wanting desperately to help while all I had done was fuck him over.

Silence still encompassed the air as I was carried away from the pissing scene I'd created, though I couldn't find it in me to freaking care. The only thoughts in my head circling around three people, only two of the people actually mattered.

Gently, I was placed on a leather seat. I knew instantly that I was in my truck, my baby, but I still didn't fucking care.

The engine was started and I was taken away.

I paid no attention to anything. Nothing mattered anymore.

The only thing I wanted was someone who had left me.

Once again, I was being carried. Through a front door, up some stairs. Then, I was released. I was on a bed. Even without looking, I knew I was at my second home.

"I hate to interrupt the self loathing session, but I really think you have some fucking explaining to do."

And he was right. I owed him that at least.

"Jake, I'm sorry." I sniffed as I looked up. Ignoring the freaking wreck my face must have looked. All red, blotchy and wet.

"It's not just him who needs an apology."

A figure stepped into the bedroom, arms folded tightly across his chest.

"Edward," my breath hitched in my throat as I saw the pain on his face.

"Isabella."

His greeting was blunt, formal, lacking any warmth. God, I had fucked everything up. I couldn't believe what a damn fool I'd been.

My repairs had to be fast, and extensive, but I was determined to sort this shit out. If not for my sake, for theirs.