A/N Hello all. I won't bore you with excuses on the long wait for this chapter. Please enjoy. Thanks to all for their continued support and sticking with me.

Oh yeah, and I don't own anything. :(

~ B of L ~

Chapter 11: Rogue

BPOV

I was sitting on my board lazily watching the surprisingly calm waters in the cove ahead of me.

The ocean was nearly placid, so there were only small swells here and there to be caught. However, I enjoyed the peace of being out here, watching the eagles bringing fish to their nest on the largest sea stack. Nothing but the sea, the wildlife, and me.

I hadn't seen much of Paul the last few days. We had just shared the most perfect kiss, when he'd left all of a sudden. I was convinced that it was because of my wig-out and escape attempt. That my knee-jerk reaction had pissed him off. But when I came back to the beach the next day, he was waiting for me. He had seemed genuinely glad to see me, but then he left in a hurry again. That time I heard what sounded like a howl before he had kissed my forehead and ran off into the woods. I didn't think much of it at the time. There were wolves in the area, always had been.

However, after he got pulled away again, yesterday, to the soundtrack of multiple howls I might add, I was under no illusion that he would be here today.

I figured my attempts to keep him at a distance were far more effective than I had ever wanted, and he had given up.

Or I stunk, literally.

I lifted an arm and took a whiff, glad I didn't smell anything but the brine of the ocean. I had thought that scented shampoo and body wash would cover up whatever the fuck Paul's friends seemed to think I smelled like. Their behavior towards me at the first bonfire had made me self-conscience enough that I had bought some things to cover the scent of disinfectants and to smell more... girly.

Either that or I was a bad kisser. A far more probable explanation.

Whatever the reason, Paul seemed to be gone. I was a little unnerved on how sad that made me, and a little angry at myself for being so. I had learned long ago to quit dwelling on what-might-have-been.

Along with Paul's odd behavior, Jax had been acting absolutely batshit crazy lately. First, on the day that Paul and I had kissed, I had gone home right after he left. When I had opened the door and tried to exit my truck, Jax went ballistic. He was snarling and barking as if a mountain lion was waiting outside the door to eat me. He even grabbed my clothes and had tried to pull me back inside the truck.

Usually when we got home from being somewhere, Jax would check the backyard and then enter the house from the doggy door. But that same day, he stayed by my side like white on rice. His hair had bristled and he kept growling. It reminded me a lot of the day he had met Charlie.

Some days, he would go absolutely nuts for no reason. For example, several days ago when I was cooking he had such a fit that I had to stop what I was doing and go check. I went outside half expecting to find a horde of terrorizing birds, like in some Hitchcock movie. No birds were to be found or heard. Not even any squirrels.

Jax was even in the habit of following me to work. One day I had brought him inside the store as it was raining hard, but had to take him to the truck after he growled at Mike. I growled at Mike all the time, but they never asked me to go home early. Jax stayed outside of the store after that. Sometimes I would see him make a lap around the building or he would be in the woods across the road.

He only calmed down when we were in La Push.

Actually, the same was true of me too.

Lately, I always felt like someone was watching me. Every time the hairs on the back of my neck would stand on end, I would hear Rockwell's "Somebody is watching me". Every. Fucking. Time. It was beginning to piss me off, because songs tended to get stuck in my head for hours at a time. And that particular song should only be endured once a decade at most. The only reason anyone knew the god-awful song was because the background vocals were done by his cousin, Michael Jackson.

Since the mind-fuck at Hank Wilde's home, I hadn't seen the little boy. Thank God. However, I had been seeing all sorts of weird shit lately. A couple of times while leaving La Push, I could see something in the forest running beside me. I couldn't see what it was and once when I stopped to look, I didn't find anything. And the current flux of my dreams were dark and haunting. I couldn't remember much of anything, but I always woke with a nauseating sense of trepidation and a migraine.

I even felt like I was being watched when I had gone to Silverdale two days ago to run errands. I had felt eyes on me the entire trip, even when I was driving and there were no cars behind me. And when I was purchasing a cell phone with the money that Gran had left me, I could have sworn I saw someone from the shadows on the other side of the mall.

And at work, I knew I saw a figure lurking in the shadows of the tree line across the road. I couldn't see their face, but I thought I could make out their light hair due to a little sunshine streaming through the leaves. Jax stood in front of the entrance of the store and growled threateningly, and I distinctly recall the figure cocking their head to the side in curiosity at the aggressive canine.

Feeling eyes on me again, I lifted my eyes to the cliff tops but didn't see anything.

I looked toward the beach to see Makala.

My little sous chef had been on the beach when I arrived, and I was fairly concerned that the child was not being watched more carefully. What if she tried to enter the water? What if some pervert happened to be passing by? All the possibilities sickened me. I would have to berate Hank about it when I took her home later.

She insisted her brother was somewhere around close by, but I had been here for about an hour and hadn't seen hide or hair of him yet. Fucking prick! Whoever he was, he was probably talking bullshit with his bros while his defenseless sister waited patiently on the beach. Lucky for him, Jax and I were around to watch out for the kid.

I had told her to stay out of the water until her brother or I returned, and that I would take her home so we could make some cookies. I had asked her to watch Jax for me, which she seemed honored at the responsibility. Telling Jax to "Stay", I had given him a pointed look and then her, silently ordering him to protect her. He seemed to understand; because he walked around her and the sand castle she was building a few times and then laid down.

Harry Potter's Sorcerer's Stone wasn't as well guarded as that girl.

I was just about to start back to shore when something caught my eye a couple hundred yards in front of me. It was a large black dorsal fin, swimming in between me and the beach. I noticed that there were several more fins slicing through to the surface.

I was in complete awe. I hadn't been this close to them since Papa and Old Quil took Jake, Quil, Embry and me fishing years ago. The orca that time had been quite a distance from us, but I had been so excited. Like the ones I saw while surfing with Paul. But now, they were only a few yards away.

The pod of whales swam around me for several minutes in an unthreatening but unsettling manner. I was no marine biologist, but even I knew this behavior was odd. Finally when they were in front of me, they turned and started to swim directly toward me. Some dorsal fins dipped below the surface before they could hit my board, a nervous giggle escaping me as they brushed against my sufficiently pruned feet dangling precariously in the water. A few orcas stayed on the surface and glided past on either side of me. I stretched my arms wide to try to touch them but couldn't.

However, one stopped, a female judging by the rounded dorsal, at the head of my board, pulling it down slightly. I was temporarily frightened at this, irrationally recalling a scene of "Jaws" in my mind. I quickly recovered as I remembered these creatures didn't deserve the moniker of killer whale, at least with regard to humans. Seals were a different story, but I wouldn't be putting my arm in her mouth to prove a point either.

With slightly shaking hands, I reached up and touched her head. The intelligent creature allowed me to pet her for several minutes. When I looked into her soulful eyes, it seemed like they were pleading with me to understand or do something. The whales were sacred to the Quileute, just as wolves were. Coincidently, orcas were known as the wolves of the sea. Feeling compelled to say something, I thanked her for blessing me with such an honor in broken Quileute. I don't know how, but I got the indication she understood. She backed up slightly, then sank beneath the surface. I turned to look behind me but there was no sign of any of the pod.

Wow, that was beyond surreal!

I was excited to tell Old Quil, but thought maybe this was my honor alone. I looked up to check if Makala had noticed my visitors, when I scrunched my eyebrows in confusion.

My perspective of the beach was askew. Not only had the ocean level seemed to rise several yards, but I was more than a half a mile from shore. It was several hours before high tide, so there was no explanation there. How the hell did I get out so far?

Confused, I looked for Jax on the beach. It appeared he was pulling frantically at Makala's shirt trying to get her to abandon her morning's work, while she batted him away. His agitated state scared me.

"Oh My God." My breath caught when I finally realized the cause of his distress.

I was perched on a rogue wave.

"FUCK!" I swore, as I stared in horror at the beach. The swell was too large for me to handle. Attempting to surf it would ensure my death. I would never out paddle it to get to Makala. My best shot of survival was behind it, at sea, but the little girl would drown in the chaos the wave would create.

"Makala! Run! Makala, run now!" I screamed.

I saw Makala turn at the sound of my voice drifting on the wind. I could almost hear her gasp as she saw the mountain of water threatening to descend on her tranquil little world. She started running away from the danger toward the trail to Paul's house before I had to turn my attention to my board and fight for my own survival. I knew Jax would get her to high ground.

He had to.

The wave moved smoothly from underneath me as if I was anchored in place, like a place setting on a magician's table. My panicked cries chasing it futilely as I continued to warn Makala to flee.

I watched as it rose when it started hitting the shallow water, rising out of the water like an agitated grizzly standing on its hind legs, beautiful and lethal.

In an act of sheer desperation of my uselessness, I began to fight the fast-retreating wave. However, it seemed I was not moving at all, or the wave was traveling so fast I was making no gain on it. I hazarded a quick glance ahead of me to the beach to see if either Makala or Jax were visible. I was still a couple thousand feet out to sea, and only the trees on the top half of the ridge above the beach were in my line of sight. A wall of a million gallons of water now obstructed my view of even most of the sea stacks rising out of the ocean. I looked up the hill toward Paul's house.

Nothing. Where are they?

Fear enveloped me like a suffocating blanket.

The wave was just starting to reach the southernmost sections of the beach. A careening wall of destruction that lifted the logs of the driftwood pile as if they were match sticks. Surviving the wave was one thing, surviving its debris was another thing entirely.

My panic palpable now, I looked anxiously again, over the top of the surge that was obstructing my view, to the trail above the outcropping on the far side of the beach. My heart soared as both Makala and Jax's forms became visible, at the fact they were going to make it.

They were safe!

I continued my paddling and finally began to make some headway toward the beach that was being battered by the thundering wave. My eyes locked on the two figures ascending up the trail. Countless moments later, I witnessed the last of the massive wall crash against the sea stacks, and continue to the beach behind it.

But the breaking torrent that slammed into the outcropping was followed by an equal volume of water behind it. It slid over the first part of the surge and spilled onto the rocks, creeping up the hill like a white shadow.

Time stood still as I watched, helpless, the water chase after my charges.

When the girl and dog were probably ten yards from the stairs, halfway up the hill, they were both overtaken by the flood that had been nipping at their heels.

I watched in horror as their flaying limbs sunk beneath the water in slow motion, and they were pulled back into the grasps of the Pacific Ocean.

I heard a strangled "NOOOOOO!" ring in my ears, and I wasn't sure if it was me or someone else that had screamed the word. Then it seemed as if all sound stopped, as my heart sank to the ocean floor.

I blinked. What the hell should I do?

Anything! Everything you can!

I blinked again.

MOVE!

I began paddled furiously toward the shore to the soundtrack of my heartbeat pounding in my ears. I fought my way toward the waves swirling and ricocheting off the rocks and the side of the hill along the beach. My vision skipped along the surface of the churning water searching for the canine and girl.

Adrenaline fueled my fevered strokes, the sense of urgency far beyond tangible now. Time and the retreating current passed by me in a blur in my advance to do whatever I could.

And I prayed. I prayed to all deities I could remember to let the little angel survive this.

I was almost halfway back to shore when I saw Jax pop up out of the white rapids a hundred yards in front of me toward the right, clasped in his jaws was an unconscious girl. I turned the board the best I could in the choppy waves and made my way to them. I clung to the board as the ebbing surge swirled around me. If I fell in the water, the little girl's life would be lost, probably mine as well.

Minutes later, I reached them and lifted the small girl on the board in front of me.

She fucking wasn't breathing!

I swallowed the sob in my throat. There was no time for that.

I hurriedly unclasped the board rope from my ankle and threw blindly toward Jax. "Follow," I ordered, not taking the time to speak the command in Quileute or to verify that he even understood.

Hard, deliberate strokes got me back to the battered beach in what felt like seconds later. I don't know how I got to shore so fast, but I was sure the hand of Aeolus himself was pushing me there. Making up for Poseidon's surprise.

When I knew I could stand, I grabbed Makala and ran through the surf to the sand ahead. I dropped to my knees, gently laying the child down. Her lips were blue, and her normally russet skin was as pale as mine.

I closed my eyes, praying for another miracle.

~ B of L ~

3rd person POV:

Eagles soared high above the ravaged beach and watched the scene beneath them. The spray from when the rogue wave had crashed against the sea stack had caused them to abandon their home temporarily. But their nest was safe, so they watched below as Bella began to feverishly perform CPR on the lifeless little girl. A wet dog raced up the trail that only minutes before had been submerged. They waited patiently for the waters to recede so that they could feast on the trapped fish in the tidal pools.

"Breathe! Honey, breathe!" Bella ordered, tears running down her face. Makala couldn't die. It would destroy Hank.

"Breathe! Goddamn it!"

Bella was startled away from her crazed attempts to save the girl. Her bag was being laid before her by her forgotten sidekick, a phone tumbling out of it.

Bella looked up at the dog in stunned silence, completely bewildered. After staring into Jax's knowing eyes a few, short seconds, she shook her head out of the awed fog and quickly dialed 9-1-1. She gave the dispatcher all the needed information and threw the phone to the side as she continued her desperate attempts to save the young girl.

I'm not going to let this happen, Bella vehemently screamed in her head.

A blind determination overtook Bella as she kept up her resuscitation efforts. But as defeat began to creep into her mind like a poisonous cancer, a rage she had never known overcame her.

She closed her eyes and screamed, "You enjoy this? Taking someone else away from me. Were the other times not rewarding enough for you? Did I not suffer enough, that this time you make me watch? Give me a front row seat!"

As her emotions began to catch up with her, Bella hugged the lifeless girl into her chest. "Take me. Let her live and take me!" she begged. "Please."

Bella collapsed over the girl as she lowered her back to the sand. Sobs broke out of her chest. She wept for Hank, and his grandson. Even Old Quil.

Makala had such a radiance about her, a light within that it would be a crime to dim out at ninety, let alone nine.

It wasn't fair. It wasn't right.

But that's life; it rarely is fair.

Why would death be any different?

Bella seethed in anger at the injustice of it all and snapped her head up.

"No!" she screamed. "You can't have her, you bastard!"

She brought her hands back down on the girl's sternum, resuming chest compressions again, and gave her mouth to mouth. An indescribably painful amount of time later, Bella felt resistance as she breathed her life into the little girl. The girl began to cough violently, and Bella turned her on her side to help ease the draining of her lungs. Bella wanted to jump for joy as she watched Makala fight her way back from the abyss.

"Makala? Makala, can you hear me?"

The girl blinked her innocent eyes open, squinting in the rare sunlight shining down on her.

"Makala, are you okay?" Bella implored, as she brushed some hair out of the girl's face.

"Mommy?" Makala rasped out in a whisper. Before Bella could respond, the girl's eyes rolled into her head and she lost consciousness.

Petrified she had died; Bella checked her pulse and found it was beating. She dropped her ear to the girl's mouth and heard her labored breathing. Tears of profound relief rolled down Bella's cheeks at the presence of both.

Afraid to move her any more than she already had, Bella sat back on her feet and spoke soothing words to the girl as they waited for help.

When Bella heard the sirens, she looked at the young girl, reluctant to leave her. When she turned to look for Jax, she found his retreating form running up the trail. She had instructed the paramedics to go to Paul's house and described where to find the trail. Time was of the essence here and it would be much quicker than them having to hike from the usual parking lot.

Jax returned five minutes later with two EMT's on his heels. They were wide-eyed as they surveyed the destruction, seeing the driftwood scattered everywhere. Bella brought them back to reality by explaining what she had done and how long she estimated Makala had been unconscious. They began to quickly work, laying her out on the stretcher.

Grabbing Jax's collar for the much-needed extra momentum, Bella followed stoically behind them as they started up the trail.

After Makala was loaded, Bella was ready to get into a fist fight with the two men when they would not allow the dog to come with them. Deep down she knew it was not a reasonable request, but without Jax, Makala would have died. Bella had no doubt of that fact.

She bent down and kissed between his eyes while she rubbed his ears. "You did good boy, so good. You saved her." He wagged his tail in acknowledgment, and nudged her into the waiting ambulance.

As the ambulance sirens wailed and they began moving, Bella overheard the men debating where to take the small girl: Forks or La Push. The conversation seemed asinine to Bella, as there was no way the tiny La Push clinic could accommodate this level of trauma. Hell, to her knowledge there wasn't a doctor in La Push. She made it clear the girl would go to Forks General, end of discussion. The men looked at her warily but complied.

She dug out her phone and dialed Old Quil's number, the only number stored in it, asking him to get in touch with Hank Wilde. Their conversation was brief, and when she had hung up the cell, she grabbed Makala's hand and squeezed it.

~ B of L ~

A cold, ominous feeling engulfed Bella as they approached the hospital. It felt like death was waiting within, watching and waiting to claim its next victim. Shivering, Bella quickly followed the EMTs as they wheeled Makala inside. Doctors rushed quickly to assess her injuries, questions flying at a frenzied pace to the EMTs and herself.

Bella backed against the wall as the medical staff stabilized the young girl. A plump nurse looked at her and told her to wait in the waiting room, to which the teen ignored. Before the nurse could start again, a doctor barked an order at her and she scurried away with an indignant look on her face.

Bella remained as quiet as the grave as they continued examining Makala, flinching as they inserted the IVs and the oxygen mask. The staff remained occupied and did not notice the somber faced young woman in the corner. When they transported the small girl to her own room in the ICU section, Bella followed behind. The doctor, Dr. Gerandy, looked at her for a second but said nothing.

Bella was sure she was a mess. There were scraps all over her exposed forearms and legs from the silt and debris dredged up from the wave. She knew her face was splotchy and her eyes were red from the trauma of it all.

"You need to go the waiting area, Miss," the Nurse Rachet-like woman said from the door of the room, bringing Bella back from her thoughts.

"No."

An incredulous look crossed the woman's features before she narrowed her eyes at the teen sitting beside the patient. "You are not permitted in here. Only family is allowed in with patients, who you are clearly not."

Bella kept her eyes closed and tried to qualm the temper that was rising within her like a tempest. She had Makala's cold, right hand encased in both of hers. Deciding to treat the woman like the annoying car alarm outside the hospital, she blocked the words out.

"You will leave, or I will have you removed. I don't give a damn who your father is," the nurse seethed in anger.

Bella's eyes snapped open and she looked the nurse dead in the eyes. The nurse flinched back at the malice behind them. Speaking her words in a calm and cold tone that gave the words a slightly menacing quality, Bella addressed the bitter nurse."Go ahead and try to get me out. I dare you. I'm not leaving her by herself."

"It is against hospital policy for you to be in here," the nurse declared bitingly. She was pissed at how easily the young woman was thwarting her mission.

"I'm not a fucking dog lady. I have every right to be here. Especially today. So just leave us be. This fucking place has never seen the hell I will raise if you ATTEMPT to remove me. I'm. Not. Leaving. Her." Each word increased in both volume and venom. The bitch was getting on her last nerve. She couldn't fathom why this was of such importance, but she didn't give a rat's ass. She wouldn't abandon the girl now.

Nurse Rachet, or Michelle as her name tag implied, stood with her mouth agape at Bella's words.

"You got kids?" Bella demanded as her eyes bored into the shocked nurse's. The woman nodded her head in reply. "If it was them lying here, would you want them to be scared and alone or have someone here holding their hand until you got there. Call her my sister or hell my daughter for all I care. Whatever bullshit you have to think up. But I'm not leaving until her grandfather gets here."

The nurse stood in stunned silence for a moment before she nodded her head. Choosing to pick her battle elsewhere, the nurse finally left resigned.

In the now almost empty room, Bella pondered on what had happened over the last two hours. It was a miracle she hadn't been caught in the chaos of the wave. There was no doubt whatsoever that if she had been closer to the shore or on the beach she would have drowned. It came up so fast, literally out of the clear blue horizon.

Minutes ticked away, a thousand memories and questions running through Bella's mind as she held tightly to the young girl's hand.

When Hank Wilde walked into the room he stopped to look at the scene. His granddaughter lay prone in the hospital bed, unresponsive. The beeps of the machine to her left, the only indication that she was alive.

Noting the dichotomy of the two girls in front of him, he couldn't help but be reminded of his daughter, Jane. Bella represented a whole other life that his daughter could have chosen. It hurt him to even think like that, he loved his grandchildren greatly. But their father had ruined his precious daughter.

To see Bella Swan, of all people, guarding protectively over his little granddaughter like a mama bear protecting her cubs was beyond ironic. She was a perfect blend of beauty and ferocity. She seemed to be Helen reincarnate: loyal, loving, but with a wickedly sharp tongue. She was perfect for his grandson, just the type of woman to push and challenge him. But give him the love he so desperately needed. There was not a doubt in Hank's mind, looking at Bella sleeping beside his granddaughter, that she already loved Makala, at least on a subconscious level.

He could only hope that Paul didn't try to push her away in a moronic attempt to guard his heart. From what Hank had seen already, she was a fighter. He silently chuckled at all the trouble the attending physician mentioned she was giving the nursing staff, refusing to leave Makala until someone else could stay and hold her tiny hand.

Dr. Jamison mentioned the paramedics reported that Bella had pulled her out of the water and performed CPR on her until Makala revived, only to lose consciousness shortly afterwards. Makala hadn't woken up since, but Bella never left her side from the time she entered the hospital. The doctor told Hank that without Bella's valiant efforts his granddaughter would have died on that beach.

He knew Paul was going to be livid that Bella had insisted that the girl was brought to Forks. But even Hank knew it was the right call. That her level thinking had undoubtedly saved Makala's life.

Twice.

Hank honestly didn't know what either of them would have done if Makala hadn't survived. The boy had so much responsibility on his broad shoulders and had dealt with so much tragedy already.

The elderly man was concerned enough where Paul was. He had picked Makala up to take to the beach, and it seemed the next thing he knew Quil III was calling him. They had rushed to the hospital together, leaving messages in the usual places to call them.

He had no idea where Paul was, but he did recall hearing a few howls shortly before Quil III called though.

Hank walked to the young brunette woman resting her head on the mattress, his granddaughter's hand clutched tightly in hers, mumbling under her breath about not letting the bastard win.

Outside the window, along the lower branches of a Sitka within the tree-line, someone watched the scene inside Makala Lahote's room with great interest. The figure sank into the cover of the tree as the sun peeked back out from a lone cloud, cascading rays of light down below. After watching Hank thank Bella once again, the vampire leapt from its perch. With the agility of its kind, the vampire gracefully swung among the branches until its feet hit the forest floor. Sparing one last glance at the humans in the hospital room, it turned and dashed quickly away.

~ B of L ~

A dazed Bella walked out of the ICU, exhausted and in pain. A migraine the size of Texas was assaulting her mercilessly, and a constant roaring was in her ears. Pushing the swinging doors into the waiting room, her eyes immediately found Old Quil's light grey ones. And just like the wave earlier, she couldn't hold back the flood of emotions. She walked into the wise man's awaiting arms, sobbing violently as all her fear of the past morning crashed onto her like a fucking anvil.

Across the large room, Charlie Swan watched with narrowed eyes as someone other than him consoled his daughter. Even though deep inside he knew he had no right to the jealousy that slammed into him, he couldn't help but silently curse the old man.

He observed as Old Quil cooed assurances that he couldn't hear and make inaudible jokes that turned Bella's sobs into reluctant giggles. Charlie seethed in silent anger as he saw the patriarch pull his keys out of his pocket and give them to Bella. There was no way she would accept a ride back home or to La Push for her vehicle now, if there ever really was.

After thanking Old Quil for the use of his vehicle, Bella gave him another quick hug and turned to leave the hospital.

The minute she did, her eyes met those of Charlie. It figures someone would call him, she thought. He ignores me for most of my life and now he's like a fucking bad penny, turning up all over the place.

Charlie gave Bella a relieved smile and excused himself so that he could give her a hug. She could have been killed today.

Aware of his intent, Bella quickly raised a hand to stop his advance. "I'm okay." She saw the hurt briefly cross his features, but didn't concern herself about it. It was all for show anyway; there was an audience.

"Bella, this is Dr. Cullen," Charlie gestured to the pale man standing beside him.

"It's lovely to meet you Ms. Swan, circumstances notwithstanding," the man greeted with a small but saccharine smile. "Your father has told me so much about you."

Doubtful, he fucking doesn't know me at all, she thought. She just stared at the man in front of her, no emotion on her face except annoyance. He reminded her of someone; someone she had seen recently. She just couldn't place it in her addled state.

"Your father would be more comfortable if I could give you a quick once over. Make sure your okay."

"I'm sure he would," she gritted through her teeth, giving her father a murderous glare.

"Sometimes the adrenaline delays people from feeling injuries..." the physician tried to reason before he was cut off. He was staring at the female in front of him apprehensively. Her eyes shone with fury as she stared at her father, her fists clenched tightly.

"Listen, I'm fine. I'm tired. I just want to crash for the next week." Bella's head was absolutely killing her, and she felt like her sanity was rapidly fraying, like the end of a old, weathered rope.

"Bella, " Charlie said, his tone sharp and disapproving. He sighed; she was so damn stubborn, just like his mother. Just like him.

"Goodbye," Bella uttered, already halfway turned toward the door. She looked at her hands that were trembling slightly with her anxiety to get the fuck out of dodge.

Charlie stood beside the blonde doctor as he watched his daughter storm away, running away. Not because she was a coward or scared, but because she was too fucking brave and stubborn for her own good.

He sighed in frustration again, looking over to Dr. Cullen. "I apologize for her behavior. She is very angry with me, and I'm afraid you just got caught in the crossfire. I'll be in touch."

"No need to apologize. She has had a difficult day," the physician appeased as he listened to the girl's heart rate quicken as she walked quickly away from them.

Quil Ateara III narrowed his eyes as he watched the exchange between the Swans and the bloodsucker.

He had not seen Bella with Charlie since she came back to Washington and what he had just witnessed left him full of questions. However, he was not surprised considering what Billy had mentioned to him the other day. The hostility Bella had toward Charlie was almost palpable. Old Quil was relieved to see that she was giving Cullen a wide berth too. She seemed confused about something, but had no inclination to stay long enough to figure it out.

After Bella had moved away as a child, her relationship with Charlie had been superficial at best, but why? Old Quil would admit that he had not been paying attention around that time. He had lost Quil IV shortly before the Swans divorce, and grief had consumed Molly and him.

Looking back now, Charlie had been distant during Bella's visits. He had been on a boat with Harry and Billy more than he was with his daughter who lived twelve-hundred miles away. Why did I not question that at the time? Old Quil asked himself. When she was in Arizona, Old Quil's had asked Charlie about her. Charlie's replies had been vague at best, which Old Quil had taken as sorrow at her absence. Only with the news she was coming back to Washington did his demeanor change.

But Bella never mentioned Charlie. Ever. Even as a child, she never had much to say about either of her parents. And she had been gone so long, since Helen died. Old Quil had thought that was odd, considering she and the boys had always had so much fun together. She loved La Push. He had thought her mother was the reason for her absence; that had been Charlie's story.

But what if it wasn't?

And he didn't need his grandsons' enhanced eyesight to see Cullen's interest in Bella. What the hell was Charlie thinking?

Bella felt the eyes of both men as she walked briskly away from them. Looking ahead, she could see both of their stoic expressions in the reflections in front of her. A set of glowing gold and haunted hazel eyes tracking her movements as she near flew forward. She didn't dare look back.

She didn't slow her pace at all as she neared the automatic doors, fear of doing so would prevent her escape. The Gods showed her favor once again as just before her face planted into the glass panes of the automatic doors, they slide open, parting like the Red Sea.

Delivering her out of the mouth of hell.

As she heard the doors slide closed behind her, she inhaled a deep, delicious breath. Mixed along with all of the other smells of pine, rain, and the sea that she had always loved about Washington was the most exquisite scent of all, freedom.

A/N Thanks for reading!

I love this chapter. I've had the idea since the beginning but had to lead up to it.

The playlist for this chapter is from the Kick-Ass score (brilliant!). Recommend listening to tracks 'Safehouse/Ambush', 'Nightvision', 'Hit Girl Drives Home', and 'Big Daddy Kills'. I have uploaded these to my group on TrickyRaven and JBNP. I happened to be listening to a shuffle at work when I heard the songs and I thought they were perfect for this chapter.

Things are going to start speeding up now.