A/N - As always, I own nothing. Many thanks to my beta August Shaffer. Also, thanks to pre-readers Feebes & Mist. Check out these ladies' banners and stories if you haven't already. Thanks to all for the favs, follows, and reviews.

Chapter 5: Introductions and Regrets

'When you came in the air went out
And all those shadows there filled up with doubt
I don't know who you think you are
But before the night is through
I wanna do bad things with you
I wanna do real bad things with you'

Bad Things - Jace Everett

BPOV

Good God! What the hell is in the water here?

I walked slowly, eyes wide at the sight before me. There was a large group of people down the beach. It wasn't the number of them that caught my attention. It was the eight large guys littered among the fold that drew my eye, each standing over six-feet, four-inches. Jake, who came ahead of Old Quil and me and swore he would not ride with me again for love or money, was included in the fray.

Carrying my rather large pasta salad with several sacks of cookies on top, I kept my pace to match that of Old Quil, who was slowly traversing the sand beside me. Upon jumping out of the bed, Jax made a beeline for some birds that were resting farther down the beach. Once they flew out of his reach, taunting him with their evasiveness, he turned back, stopping every few yards or so to sniff or paw at something. When he reached a rock and made to lift his leg to it, Old Quil barked something in Quileute. Jax immediately ceased his relief efforts and went into the neighboring forest, returning a few moments later.

"What did you say?" I questioned, acting as if I didn't know.

"Told him no. I'll have to teach you some of the commands for him." I nodded my head. During my summers, I spent a lot of time in La Push. I could be found either helping Gran visit the sick or elderly with Molly, or causing mischief with Jake or Quil. Actually, they caused all the trouble, and I always got caught because I couldn't run as fast. Anyway, I would pick up words here and there, especially when visiting people with Molly as some people didn't know English and others would mumble in Quileute under their breath or amongst themselves to exclude us, not realizing that Molly understood everything they said. Molly, of course, got pissed and ended up teaching Gran and me some Quileute. I really only knew enough to be dangerous.

Reaching a large folding table overflowing with food, I placed my items on it, wondering why in the hell Old Quil had insisted for me to double or triple my recipes. There was no way this group could eat this much food. As soon as my hands were free, a pair of deeply tanned arms extended around me and lifted me off my feet in a tight hug.

"Hells Bells. Man, I've missed you!," Quil V, or Young Quil as some of the older population called him, said as he tried to squeeze me into a diamond.

"Quil...can't...breathe," I gasped, hearing Jax growling beside me. Quil loosened his hold on me and the rush of air to my awaiting lungs was almost painful. He pulled back a little to look at me, dangling in his arms, with an apologetic grimace on his face.

"Sorry." He also looked far older than his age. He was several inches shorter than Jake, probably six-feet, three-inches or so, but what he lacked in height he made up for in width. He always was rather stocky, but now he was just unreal. He was all muscle and sinew and his arms were near double the size of my thighs. He looked like he could bench press my truck!

Dropping me to my feet, he put one of his massive arms around my shoulders and started walking me to the young group a few yards away. "Let's get the introductions done so we can catch up," he said as we approached. "You remember Embry Call."

Embry shyly greeted me, "Nice to see you again, Bella." Embry was tall, but he had a swimmer's build with long, lean muscles. He was extremely handsome with a chiseled jaw line and dark, almost ebony, eyes. I fought hard to keep the pink off my cheeks as I remembered my first kiss at another bonfire many years ago. An eight-year-old Embry stole it from me, and was rewarded with a beat down from both Quil and Jake. He never attempted anything again in fear of his best friends' reaction, much to my disappointment.

Quil continued, "Moving on, we have Jared Cameron and his girlfriend Kim Collins." I gave them a small wave. Jared was close to Quil's height but nowhere near the same muscle tone. Kim was a cute enough girl, maybe a tad on the plain side, with a short bob cut to her black hair. Quil's comment on their status was a waste of his breath, because they were all over each other. And although Kim's demeanor was pleasant, the hold she had on Jared and the set of her eyes when she sized me up screamed possessiveness.

"This is Sam Uley and his wife Emily. They just got married last weekend. This is Bella, my cousin," Quil moved on. Sam was the same height as Jake, and seemed to be oldest of the brood. His expression was stoic until Quil mentioned the word wife, and then it turned adoring as he looked down at Emily. She was an extremely beautiful woman, but she had three long scars from the corner of her left eye down to the corner of her mouth.

I kept my eyes on her doe-like brown eyes as I greeted them, "Congratulations, it is lovely to meet you." Although the possessiveness was in Emily's stance as well, what really caught my attention was the guilt in Sam's expression when he looked at her scars. It was very subtle, but I was positive I didn't imagine it. Perhaps love does leave the deepest scars or was it the scars that left the deepest love?

"These three are Brady Fuller, Collin Littlesea, and Seth Clearwater." The former two smiled warmly at me; Collin going as far as to give me a quick wink when Quil was looking around for someone. Seth merely nodded at me in acknowledgment. Although I kept my features even, I was flabbergasted at the sight of Seth. He looked several years older than me, but in reality was a year or two younger than Jake and Quil. What the hell is going on?

"There are two others to our group that you'll meet later. Let's take you to see Uncle Billy before he drives Grandpa insane asking about you." Turning with Quil, we walked back to the elder group congregated close to a large pile of driftwood for the bonfire, waiting for darkness so it could be lit.

I bent over and gave Billy Black a hug saying, "Hello Billy." I was saddened to see him in a wheelchair because of his diabetes. It aggravated me that Jake had failed to mention it on our way to the reservation earlier, because I would have made some special treats for him as I knew he couldn't eat my cookies. He didn't look well, and I cursed his daughters for leaving Jake and him high and dry, talk about a couple of bitches. They were always selfish creatures and Gran said she would never have believed, not in a million years, that they were Billy and Sarah's children, if she had't been in the room at their birth. They never cared about anything but themselves and seemed to take joy in torturing others, particularly poor Jake. They flat-out loathed me because Old Quil treated me like a granddaughter, and I ragged on them constantly because of their treatment of Jake.

After speaking with Billy for a while, I sat down against the logs dispersed around the bonfire. I made sure I was downwind from the group, as I noticed several noses flare when they were around me. I guess the kitchen really must have reeked; they couldn't be acting this way because of Pine-sol, could they? It smells so good! Jax was lying on my legs, pretending to be my own personal movable blanket, as the wind from the ocean was a little chilly. He would make some odd yipping noises in his sleep and his legs would twitch periodically. I figured he was dreaming of chasing more birds.

I always enjoyed coming to bonfires when I was younger. I stuck out like a sore thumb, being the only white girl running around in a sea of bronze faces, but it was always a lot of fun. Gran would sit talking with Molly and Quil III and their mutual friends, while Charlie drank himself into oblivion with Billy and Harry. In many ways I felt more at home in La Push than I ever had in Forks. I always felt a part of something here, not like I was outside looking in. I wasn't an anonymous statistic here; no matter how insignificant my life was. With only a few exceptions, people were friendly and welcoming in a way that I had never found anywhere else; not that Renee's constant moving around afforded me any ability to get to know people.

Talking to Quil, Jake, and Embry, I learned that the missing people were Paul Lahote and Leah Clearwater. Oh joy. I didn't know the Paul guy, but Leah had always disliked me. I had never done anything to her, but she rarely missed an opportunity to harass me. I suspected it originated from her parents, because Sue had always been cold to me.

I first noticed the Clearwaters' animosity toward me when I was six, and Gran, Papa, and I were visiting at Molly and Old Quil's house. A large number of kids were there: the Blacks, Quil V, Embry, and the Clearwaters. That was the first summer I remember Gran having Jack, and he was visiting with us. While we were playing I noticed that something had caught the dog's attention near the edge of the woods. I walked over and stood next to him, trying to figure out what it was, as I had never seen anything like it. Quil, Embry, and Jake soon appeared as well, equally puzzled, but I kept them from getting any closer. If that was as far as Jack went, we wouldn't go any farther either. Rebecca, Rachel, Leah, and Seth, always bossed around by his older sister to follow her, came then, concerned they were missing something important. Rebecca, always the bossiest of them, declared the creature a cat, which I scoffed at; I knew it wasn't a cat and told them as much. Pissed at being called stupid by someone younger than her, Rebecca went to retrieve the supposed cat, dragging her entourage with her. When they got about two yards away, I noticed Jack take a step or two back. I retreated with him, dragging my boys with me. The 'cat' turned as if it too was going to retreat, but instead sprayed the most God-awful stink, that I have yet to encounter again, onto the unsuspecting girls and boy.

I swear, the people in Forks could hear the screaming and wailing that ensued then. After running a safe distance where the air was not tainted, I fell to ground laughing my fucking ass off. When the adults came out to see what the commotion was, the girls tried to blame me and the boys. We received stern looks until Sarah and Sue walked the reeking kids home, as Molly refused to let them in her house. I thought we might get chewed out when they left, but Papa and Old Quil actually fell to the ground because they were laughing so hard, tears coming out of both of their eyes. Gran and Molly were chuckling too and decided to bribe us remaining kids with some ice cream so we would never mention their reaction to the others. Needless to say, Sue and Sarah were not happy with us for some time. Sarah got over it pretty quickly, basically when she got the smell of skunk out of her bathroom, but Sue was always pissy towards me after that. Oh well, that shit was funny, I don't care who you are. Ah, good times.

"Hey, Bells?" Quil questioned, drawing me out of my memory. When I met his joyful eyes, he continued, "You better go swimming now before we eat. Otherwise you will have to wait a while."

"I'm not going swimming." I have a really bad feeling about this. He was showing far too many teeth in that impish grin.

"Are you sure?"

"Do the words, 'Hell hath no fury' mean anything to you, dumbass?" I snarled as I tried to make myself look intimidating, ignoring the fact that Mr. T would give Quil a wide berth.

"Nope!" he said, popping the 'p' at the end, as he swept me up from my seat and threw my over his broad shoulder. I screamed and hit him but it was pointless. He waded about two yards into the surf and then launched me into the cold water of the Northern Pacific, the water drowning my curses as I entered the frigid water. When I finally emerged, gasping and sputtering, I was a good fifteen feet from where he stood.

"I. Am. Going. To. Kill. You." I seethed, checking if my hair was still tightly woven. I looked to the beach and noticed that two newcomers had joined the bonfire.

"Who's the white chick?" a loud, obnoxious voice asked, slurring the words slightly.

I lifted my eyes to see the voice's owner. He was facing away from me, and God help me, he wasn't wearing a shirt! He was shorter than Jake, but still impossibly tall, and his back was covered in layers and layers of muscles. He also had what looked to be the tightest ass on the planet hidden underneath those denim cutoffs. Oh yes, mama likes!

He turned around, slowly like a fashion model, letting me savor every drop of his perfection. He was a chiseled Adonis in the flesh. When I got a full view of him, I literally almost melted into the water. My eyes started at his bare feet and moved upward, noting his muscular legs, and admiring what looked like a very large endowment. Please don't let that be a sock!

Moving on, I drooled as I counted his eight pack, yes eight pack, and noted his muscular chest and huge, bulging biceps that rivaled Quil's. When I got to the smirk he was sporting, I quickly moved my eyes to meet his. I couldn't tell the color from this distance but they seemed to glow, either in mirth at my blatant eye-fucking or from the reflection of the setting sun. And although such arrogance would normally turn me off, I couldn't help but smile back at him.

He literally was God's gift to woman, and you could tell that he knew it. As a woman and a virgin, I felt obligated to throw myself at his feet. Oh, and how I wanted to! I could tell with one smoldering look that he could make my cat meow, and quite loudly. And even the thought of, who I assumed was Paul, touching me, my lady bits were already tingling. If I wasn't treading water right now, I know I would be feeling my panties dampen. The water was cold, so I was pretty sure I was already sporting headlights before I saw him.

I was yanked from my enjoyable daydreams of this sex-God and me rolling around on the beach naked by the annoying cackling that was Quil's hyena-like laugh.

"Jax!" I called. Jax raised his head from where he was laying down, cocking his head to the side. I raised a shaking arm, freezing from the cold water, and pointed my finger at Quil who was chuckling to himself as he waded out of the ocean, oblivious to edict I was getting ready to lay down. I drew in a deep breath and then ordered in Quileute, "yali.l!"

And the chase was on. God, I love this dog!

~B of L~

Meanwhile back in Forks:

After killing the engine to the cruiser, Charles Swan ran his hands through his hair and then down along his face. It had been a long and hard day at work. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get the absolutely devastated look in Bella's eyes out of his mind. If only he could go back fifteen years and re-write the relationship he had with her. Right all the wrongs.

Charlie walked in and he could immediately smell the cleaners. Walking into the kitchen, he realized how he truly he did not deserve his daughter. She had cleaned it until it shined; she had even scrubbed the cabinet faces. He knew this was only the initial run through; she was so like his mother it wasn't funny.

How had he not really noticed that before? How had he screwed up so bad with her?

For the rest of his life, Charlie would never be able to rationalize how he believed that lying, cheating, whore that was his ex-wife. She knew exactly what to say to get what she wanted. He was so hurt at her betrayal that he just wanted her gone, damn the cost. When he looked at Bella, he couldn't help but see his ex-wife; she was the spitting image of Renee except for darker eyes and hair and that may have been a contributing factor of why he believed that she wasn't his child.

His parents were devastated that Renee had taken their little Angel away, and his mother begged, tears streaming down her face, for him to fight for custody, but to no avail. She tried and tried to get him to have Bella stay with him when she visited, but he wanted nothing to do with mini-Renee, as his stubborn, irrational twenty-four year old self thought of the young girl. He never told his parents what was really going on; there was nothing on this earth that his mother loved more than that little girl. It would have crushed her, in more ways than one. He didn't breathe a word to anyone of what was going on in his mind, the hell he was living in; it would have shattered more than just his life.

He endured having Bella spending the summers in Forks. After his father's death, her visits were the only things that kept his mother going. Bella seemed to sense that she needed to keep her distance; if she wasn't with his mother, she could be found somewhere in La Push, keeping a wide berth between the two of them.

And his mother was always furious with him. She didn't know what could cause someone to turn their back on their own daughter. When his mother suddenly passed away, he was almost relieved that he wouldn't have to keep up the charade any longer. Bella stayed with him for a week in his apartment until a few days after the funeral, when he couldn't handle her tears anymore. While she was staying in La Push, with either Joy Ateara or Billy Black, he found out his mother left Bella the house and all of its contents.

And. He. Was. Livid.

Not necessarily out of any sense of entitlement, because Charlie Swan was a simple man, a bottle of Rainer and a fishing pole were his only necessities in life, But with himself, since he had never told his mother the truth, at least what he thought was true at the time: that Bella was not his child. When he entered his parent's home the first thing he thought he saw was a young Renee staring back at him from a picture in the living room, and suddenly red bled into his vision. He didn't remember trashing the house, but when he woke up from his alcohol-induced coma the next morning, face down on the couch, he was surrounded by broken glass. None of the pictures in the living room or hallway survived. When he got done sweeping the glass up from his tantrum, he moved all he could to the attic for storage. Furniture, dishes, anything really that reminded him of his mother.

The pieces that made him think of Bella? They met the same fate as the glass in the dustpan.

He avoided Bella after that; feigning an inability to deal with her due to his grief over his deceased mother. When he came back from dropping her off at the airport, to the house that he was assigned guardianship of until she came of age, he could swear he heard his mother's crying. Charlie felt a chill go down his back at the sense of déjà vu; she would always cry for at least a week after Bella would leave to go back to her mother's side. But that would be the last time that Bella would return for four years. And somehow, where ever she was, his mother had known that.

For the next eighteen months he went along with his life as if Renee, and consequently Bella, were nothing but a bad dream. He pretended he knew what was going on in her life so that he could answer inquiries from his friends and co-workers about her. He never phoned, and neither did she. And then he got that fateful call that knocked his world upside down once again. He dropped everything to go to Phoenix and what he found broke his heart: Bella was indeed his daughter, and he might never be able to gain her trust again.

He had undeniably and irrevocably fucked up; there was no other way to put it. He ruined the relationship with his only living relative, his own flesh and blood. There was no one to blame but himself, his own foolish pride and stubborn nature the root cause. His only comfort was that his parents were not alive to see what all he had done to their grandchild; they saw some things but not everything. Bella always kept her mouth shut about the things going on with her parents, and he suspected it was so that it wouldn't hurt his mother. Children are selfless like that. Ten lifetimes would not be enough time for him to make up for all the shit he put his daughter through. He spent the remaining years from then on trying to build a relationship with her, but it was just impossible from that distance. He was too ashamed to speak to anyone about what he done, too many secrets still needed kept. Bella avoided him like the plague and refused to come back during the summers, or allow him to visit her. He couldn't blame her; it was the least he deserved. The whole situation screamed of a much more tragic version of 'Cats in the Cradle'.

When he had found out that she was coming back to live with him he was beyond ecstatic. But the smile he was wearing while he waited for her plane to taxi and empty was wiped off his face when he saw her from a distance. She trudged along, melancholy eyes on her dragging feet, as if she was pulling a semi-truck behind her. He could tell she was dreading coming back, back to him. He could only figure that he was the lesser of the two evils in her life.

He made his way upstairs. After changing into his civilian uniform of jeans and a flannel shirt, he pulled the cord in the hallway to open the attic hatch. He had to wipe his eyes after the two-minute sneezing fit brought on by the swirling dust that his presence elicited. He surveyed the contents of the cramped space. He would take Bella's advice and just show her what she meant to him.

One small gesture at a time.

With a deep sigh, he went to the closest box and got started.

A/N Thanks for reading!

Oh, I'm not even going to pretend I know Quileute, English continues to prove a challenge at thirty-something, but the translation I found is: yali.l = kill

Some great stories to check out:

Iris by dragonfly76 - Jake/Bella

Part of the Pack by evieeden - Bella/wolf

Everything Goes by August Shaffer - Bella/Jake

Poison and Wine by Iamtwilightobsessed-MP - Jared/Bella

From Rags to Riches by Kiki-rosa - Sam/Bella