"A party?" I ask, not bothering to conceal my surprise. "You brought me to a party?"
The line of cars starts a block back, parked nearly bumper to bumper on the shoulder of this old country road, all leading to a lone house at the end. Jake drives the Mustang past all of them, heading straight to the house.
"That okay with you, Princess?" His mocking tone doesn't go unnoticed.
"Fine," I respond, half shaking my head and half shrugging.
With the street full of cars, it seems someone had the bright idea of turning the front yard into a make-shift parking lot. Though, they didn't do a very good job of it; the vehicles are all turned this way and that, some completely blocked in by others. Jake pulls off the road and onto the grass, adding my car to the array of madness.
Does anyone here know how to drive?
"What'd you expect?" Jake shifts the car into park and shuts off the engine. He props his left elbow on the steering wheel as he twists to look at me. "Dinner and a movie at one a.m.? Maybe a nice moonlit stroll on the beach?" He cocks one eyebrow.
"No," I answer, shaking my head. I really didn't know what to expect.
"Good, 'cause I don't do shit like that," he says firmly, stressing the point. "I would've come here tonight whether you were with me or not."
Don't I feel special? my rude inner voice jibes.
Jake pops open the door and gets out quickly. Stuffing my purse under the seat, I hurriedly follow. My shoe kicks a beer can as I stumble around to meet Jake at the front of the car. The headlights flash as Jake hits the lock button, and for a second, the yard is illuminated, showing me just how dirty it is. I was too distracted with the cars to notice, but now, I see there's trash everywhere: beer cans, bottles, plastic bags, cardboard boxes and more.
Taking a few steps closer to Jake, I accidentally step on the previous beer can again, or maybe it's a different one; honestly, I had no way to tell. The aluminum crunches beneath my ballet flat, and I quickly lift my foot, trying to avoid it and nearly falling in the process. Jake looks down at the noise then back up at me; with a slight shake of his head and a light laugh, he offers his hand. I take it eagerly in mine, searching for some form of comfort as we weave through the cars and head towards the party. Carefully avoiding the scatterings of trash throughout the yard as we go, I find myself becoming more and more anxious. I've never been to this kind of party before. I mean, sure, I've hung out with my group of friends while they've hidden away in Mike's basement, drinking beer and playing silly games like Truth or Dare. But I've never experienced a real party like this one.
At first I thought I could hear the music pumping and the crowd of voices through the open windows, but upon closer inspection, I see that the windows aren't open at all; they're broken. Huge cracks run down them, and in some places, there are large, gaping holes. Then I notice the siding of the house has huge gashes in it, some pieces broken off completely and the stone wall left bare. The condition of the house makes me feel a whole new set of nerves.
Instinctively, I lean into Jake's side. "Whose house is this?"
"I don't know," he shrugs, and I stop out of surprise.
"Jake!" I tug on his hand and lower my voice to harsh whisper, afraid of being overheard. "You don't know? Are we crashing this party?"
He laughs at my concern of course-not that I would have expected anything less of him. But then he wraps his arm around my shoulder and pulls me into his chest. My cheek lies against the soft leather of his jacket while his lips brush the top of my head. It feels so good to just be held closer by him that I momentarily forget why I was so worried in the first place.
"Jared knows someone who lives here," he answers.
"Oh, so Jared's here?" For some weird reason this makes me feel better; at least there's someone else here that I know. Well, sort of know.
Jake starts walking again, keeping me tucked under his arm, and I'm not about to complain. "Yeah, all the guys are."
I let out a small sigh of relief. All the guys means Embry too, and next to Jake, he's the one I'm most comfortable with.
However, once we reach the entrance of the house, my nerves assault me yet again. Several people stand around outside of the front door, swaying and shouting at each other, each with a cigarette between their fingers and cup in their hands. They're all clearly drunk and arguing; every other word they use is a curse.
Not really meaning to, I reach up and grasp onto Jake's hand that lies on my shoulder, holding onto it tightly and making sure it doesn't let me go. He leads me straight past them and through the open door.
I'm instantly assaulted with the undeniable sent of weed, which only heightens my fear and anxiety. Taking in my surroundings, I first notice the mass of teenagers all scattered around the smoky room, and it's nearly as dirty as the front lawn with trash laid out on every available surface.
One worn couch is shoved up against the wall with about seven or eight teens strewn about on it. In front of it sits a ping pong table, taking up most the space in that section of the room. It's heavily surrounded by kids, all screaming and yelling while playing beer pong.
Then there's a card table set up in the opposite corner with a small television sitting on it and a large stereo playing loudly, its speakers taking up the rest of the space.
The other half of the room is nearly bare. It has a keg sitting in a kiddy pool of ice and a futon; my eyes widen when I see it. Two couples are sprawled out on it. One couple is lying down, the guy heavily making out with the girl beneath him and his right hand openly groping at her chest while the left is buried inside of her jeans. The second couple is seated, the girl straddling and grinding against the boy with her skirt hiked up and her shirt off. She's still wearing her bra, but, my lord, they look like they're having sex!
Astonished, I point towards them. "Are they…"
"Looks like it," Jake answers my unfinished question.
Furiously blushing, I tear my eyes away from the offending scene and force my curiosity back as it begs me to glance at them again.
With his arm still wrapped securely around my shoulders, Jake steers us through the throngs of teens. I don't know if it's due to his massive size or how dominatingly scary he looks, but either way, the crowd easily parts to make room for him. I feel like I'm floating in the middle of the ocean and he's my raft, carrying me safely through a sea of sharks. Most everyone looks condescendingly down at me, saying without words that I don't belong here, while others view me in a way that I can only describe as "fresh meat."
A moment later, Jake and I are standing in front of the keg. It's being guarded by a twenty-something year old holding a bag of red plastic cups and a jar full of money. Jake drops his arm from my shoulders and attempts to dig into his pockets. I know it's a difficult task for him with my arms still clutching around his middle, so I force myself to let go. I hadn't realized how tightly I was holding onto him until just now as each finger stiffly uncurls itself from his leather jacket.
I watch the silent exchange between Jake and the keg guard in awe. Jake hands over a five dollar bill to the guard, who places it in his jar and then fills a plastic cup of beer in return.
Placing his hand on my lower back, Jake leads me a few feet away and puts the cup in my hand.
"You don't have to drink it if you don't want to, just hang on to it." Jake takes my free hand in his, guiding it so my palm is sitting on the rim of cup. "If you do drink it, make sure you keep your hand over the top at all times. Got me?" His dark eyes bore into mine, alerting me to just how serious he is about this.
I nod knowingly. I may never have been to a party like this before, but I'm certainly aware of the dangers of them.
"Hey, man, you made it!" Quil's large hand claps down on Jake's shoulder, and then he looks to me, his surprise evident. "And you brought the Chief's daughter."
Jake easily slips his arm around my waist and pulls me closer; the beer sloshes around in my cup, splashing at my fingers around the rim.
"You talked to Paul, right?" Quil's eyes shift from me to Jake, and trepidation colors his tone as he adds, "You're coming to the job later?"
I'm silently questioning, What job? What does he mean 'later'? at the same time that I feel Jake stiffen beside me. "No, I thought I'd find him here." His husky voice drops, containing a bitter edge. "I still need to kick his ass."
Wait, he hasn't talked to Paul yet? But I thought that's where he was going when he left the beach? I thought he was late picking me up tonight because he was working the 'late shift,' but if this job is the 'late shift,' then…where was Jake all day?
I look back at Jake, the anger with his brother clearly written on his face, and for a moment, I wonder what he'll do if we find him here. Mike's words on the beach come back to haunt me, 'I don't know who Paul is, but I'd hate to be around when Jake finds him.'
Crap, I'm going to be around when Jake finds him.
He won't hurt him, my inner voice quickly responds. It's the same initial response that I had with Mike earlier. All I can say is I really hope my inner voice is right.
"Hell, Jake, aren't you over that yet?" Quil's nonchalant attitude seems to anger Jake further as his fingers tighten their grip on my waist. "I would've thought you got it out of your system when you-"
"Fuck that," Jake snaps loudly, causing me to jump. "Paul deserves to get his ass beat for not telling me."
Feeling awkward and out of place in their conversation, I bring the cup to my lips; the strong scent of the beer fills my nose as I take a drink. My face automatically puckers in disgust, and I force myself to swallow it down instead of spitting it out like I want to.
"Ugh, that's terrible!" I say, still frowning and staring at the beer like it insulted me. "Why would anyone want to drink this?"
Realizing that I said this aloud, I slap my hand over my mouth. Horrified, I look up at Jake and begin to shake my head apologetically. "Oh, my God, I'm sorry." My words are slightly muffled with my hand still covering my mouth; I remove it quickly. "You bought this for me, and here I am being so rude about it."
Quil openly laughs the whole time I'm trying to apologize while Jake's angered expression over Paul smoothes into an amused one at me. He gives me a crooked grin, his thumb rubs on my lower back, and his free hand moves up to my cheek, brushing my hair back.
"Is that your first beer, Princess?"
I nod, still frowning because the horrible taste lingers in my mouth.
Quil's laughter dies down to a chuckle. "She's cute, Jake. I can see why you like this girl."
My heart rate picks up slightly, and I try to fight the hot blush from hitting my cheeks but fail miserably. However, Jake's amused smile disappears entirely as he drops his hand from my waist.
Sharp pains of rejection shoot through me. Jake's reaction to Quil's words is enough to answer my lingering questions about where we stand. He doesn't like me; I'm just a bet.
"Hey, look," Quil smirks and nods to the left of us, "here comes Paul now."
My eyes shift to Paul's rapidly approaching figure, the same scowl etched onto his face that I've seen before. I glance at Jake who wears a nearly identical expression. Quil stays where he stands with a smirk still on his face, as if he's happy to witness the next event, but I nervously take a step back.
"What the fuck is she doing here, Jake?" Paul shouts the second he stops in front of us. I cringe and wish I could fold in on myself, maybe make myself disappear. Jake's arm shoots out in front of me, crossing my stomach with his hand sprawled out on my hip. He pushes me back slightly and takes a small step forward, almost standing chest to chest with his brother. As glad as I am that he's taking a protective stance with me, I'm still too upset about my latest realization that Jake doesn't like me to feel comforted. Add to that Paul's harsh words, and there's no way to stop the tears from forming. Can you blame me?
"What fucking difference does it make?" Jake spits.
"I told you to stop with this bullshit." Paul turns his focus on me. "You," he snaps his fingers in front of my face as if I'm not already looking straight at him, "whatever your name is, go home."
"It's Bella," Jake growls, shocking me. He never calls me Bella. "Her name's fucking Bella." Jake exasperatedly sweeps a hand through his hair. "Jesus, Paul."
"And you're doing just that, aren't you?" Paul quips. "Fucking Bella."
"Hell yeah, I'd tap that too," Quil laughs.
Jake shoots him a dangerous look but snaps his attention back to Paul. "I told you, I'm not fucking her."
"You know that's not what I meant. Take the girl home and cut the shit," Paul commands like a father would his son.
"Me?" Jake grunts. "What about you? You fucking hypocrite. I hear you're running a job later?"
Paul threads his fingers through his hair, mimicking his brother from a minute ago. "Fuck, Jake! Watch your goddamn mouth!" If I wasn't so upset, I'd almost find that statement funny. "What does she know?" Paul glares at both boys, demanding an answer.
"Nothing. I'm not fucking stupid," Jake nearly shouts.
"Nah, man," Quil says, "She doesn't know anything."
They don't so much as glance at me, talking about me as if I'm not standing right here.
Hurt and uncomfortable, I take a deep breath and look away. I spot Embry on the other side of the room leaning back against the wall, a red plastic cup in his hand while he laughs with a pretty girl. Almost as if he can feel my eyes on him, he glances up, over her head, and looks straight at me. He winks and smiles, but it quickly fades into concern. His eyes flicker to Jake, Paul, and Quil. Pushing off the wall, he pats the girl on the arm and makes his way over to us. Gratitude washes over me.
Embry keeps his eyes locked on mine until he's standing right in front of me. He gently places his hand on my shoulder and slides it down my bicep. "You okay, Sweetheart?"
Jake's head snaps toward us, his eyes narrowing while I bite my lip and nod at Embry. Jacob's hand encircles my wrist, giving a sharp tug, so I stumble back, my shoulder colliding with his hard chest. Some beer splashes out of the cup, and Embry's grip on my opposite arm tightens, holding me steady before he drops it completely. He takes a step back from me, his hands half raising in surrender.
"What the hell's going on?" Embry addresses the group.
Jake eyes him a moment then answers, "Paul was just about to fill me in on the job details." He stares at his brother, daring him to argue. Which he does.
"No, you're not going," Paul says firmly. "You're taking 'Bella' back where you found her, and then you're going home." I could practically hear the quotes as Paul mockingly said my name, making me sound like some kind of stray that Jake picked up on the street.
"No way, man, Jake's the best! He's gotta come!" Quil quickly cuts in.
Embry looks considerately at me before calmly interrupting, "Come on, guys, let's take this conversation outside."
The brothers ignore him, glaring furiously at each other.
"Either you're calling it off or I'm going with you," Jake defiantly states, crossing his arms. "You need me to watch your back."
"Why are you so hell-bent on going? Unless you told her something you shouldn't!"
I flinch, knowing he's talking about me again.
I take another step back, ready to flee. Jake catches my movement and reaches for my hand, but I don't give it willingly, so his fingers just brush over my fist instead. He looks down at me, and through his anger, I can see the apology in his eyes.
Jake turns back to Paul. "I told you, she doesn't know anything, so leave her the fuck out of this!" He still holds onto my fist, as if he's afraid I'll make a run for it if he lets go. Though, as much as I want to run from Paul and his accusations, I don't really want to leave Jake, especially when he's being so apologetic and protective.
Paul's ready to retort, but Embry steps in again, his hand on Paul's chest and anger laced in his voice. "Enough! We're taking this outside now!"
Embry pushes Paul back, steering him towards the door as he turns his heated gaze on Jake, saying without words to follow.
Rubbing his thumb over the back of my hand, Jake coaxes my attention to him. "I'll be right back, Princess. All right?" Biting my lip, I contemplate telling him no, it's not all right. I don't want to be left here alone. But instead, I take a steadying breath and nod. I'm a big girl. I can handle myself…maybe.
Quil starts to walk toward Paul and Embry, but Jake grabs his arm, promptly yanking him back next to me. "You're staying here," Jake authoritatively commands, shifting his gaze from Quil to me and back.
"What the fuck, man? I'm on your side!" Quil argues. Jake's eyes narrow, and his features harden. I swear, if looks could kill Quil, would be dead. He quickly submits, "Okay, I'm staying, I'm staying."
Jake spins on his heel, flanking Embry and Paul as the three of them make their way out of the living room.
"Well, isn't this the shits?" Quil mutters, shaking his head.
I'm not really sure how to respond, so I bring the cup back up to my lips, ready to take a sip, but quickly realize what a horrible idea that is and stop. I hold the beer in front of me, wishing I could dispose of it instead. But Jake wants me to have it, even if I'm not drinking it, though I'm not sure why.
An uncomfortable silence forms between Quil and I as the seconds tick by. I've never really talked to him before, but standing next to him, I feel it's the appropriate thing to do, and he is one of Jake's friends. Perhaps I should break the ice?
"Um," yes, excellent start Bella, "Are you- I mean, do you not drink?"
"Hmm?" He turns his attention to me sluggishly, as though he hadn't been bothered by the painstakingly obvious silence between us.
I lift my cup up slightly, indicating the alcohol it contains. "You're not drinking?"
"Can't drink too much before a job," he shrugs but looks meaningfully at the little red cup. "But one beer couldn't hurt, could it?" He doesn't wait for me to answer before he nods and begins walking backward. "Yeah, I think I'll get a beer. You don't need anything, do ya'?"
"Uh- um," I try to reply, but he's already turned his back to me, walking away. Irritated, I sigh, blowing the air upwards and fanning my bangs out of my face. I really didn't want him to leave me here alone. Not that Quil was the best company to begin with, but he was better than nothing.
Awkwardly shifting from foot to foot, I stand in the crowded room, my fingers still spread over the rim of the red plastic cup as Jake instructed. Laughter erupts from the couch next to me, and for the first time, I take notice to what its occupants are doing. A group of five is huddled together, lining up rows of white powder on the back of a DVD case, laughing about doing blow on the movie Blow.
Feeling incredibly uneasy being so close, I shy away from them. Scurrying back, I weave through the cluster of bodies until I find myself in a quieter, less crowded part of the house. I'm standing in what is meant to be a dining area attached to an open kitchen with only the counter bar separating them. Unfortunately, the only piece of furniture in the room is an old computer desk sitting in the corner, which a few people have already decided to sit on, leaving me little choice but to lean against the wall. Oh well, at least there aren't couples having sex in here!
After a few minutes, I close my eyes and let my head fall back against the wall, wondering how long it will be before Jake comes for me.
"Hi," a masculine voice speaks into my ear. Snapping my eyes open and twisting my head, I face an attractive male. He leans one shoulder against the wall next to me, his shaggy auburn hair hanging in front of his gorgeous blue eyes.
Returning his greeting, I shyly whisper, "Hi."
"I saw you from across the room and - I hope you don't mind me saying this - but I thought, 'That girl is too pretty to be so lonely.'" He smiles brightly while a hot blush forces its way into my cheeks. "So, I decided to sum up the courage and offer you my company. That's if you'll have me, of course."
"Oh, um, yeah - sure." I shrug and try to be nonchalant, but honestly, I'm relieved to have someone to talk to. I was beginning to feel a bit like a social pariah.
"My name's Peter," he says conversationally, holding his hand out to me.
I take it gently in mine. "Bella."
"Bella," he repeats as though he's testing it out on his tongue. "Now why would a beautiful girl like you be standing here all alone?"
Because the boy who brought me here was dragged outside by a friend so he could fight with his brother about a 'job' he's running later and my lack of knowledge on the subject. Of course I don't feel it's appropriate to tell Peter this, so I shrug, trying to come up with something else instead.
"I'll tell you why," Peter says seriously. "It's because you're so intimidating."
"Me? Intimidating?" I almost want to laugh at the statement. "I'm probably the least intimidating person ever."
"I said you're beautiful, and I mean that, really." I begin shaking my head, but Peter continues undeterred, "But you see, Bella, that's the problem. You're too beautiful. It's intimidating to most guys."
"But you're here," I point out.
He cracks the slightest grin. "I'm not most guys."
Slightly embarrassed and maybe a little flattered, I take a sip of my drink, instantly wishing I hadn't. My nose scrunches in distaste as I squeeze my eyes shut, and I struggle to swallow.
Peter laughs, "Not good?"
"Awful."
"What'cha drinking?"
"Beer," I answer, but it sounds more like a question.
"Want something better?"
Peter flashes me a friendly smile, but I shake my head. "No thanks."
"C'mon, I've got just the thing. You'll love it, I promise." Peter grasps onto my forearm, barely missing my bruised elbow as he pulls me along behind him. I continue to decline the offer, but he simply ignores me. Rounding the kitchen bar, he finally stops, depositing me so I'm enclosed with my back to the counter. I start to lean back, but it's covered in trash, cups, beer cans, and more, the surface looking wet and sticky. Ew, best not to lean against that.
Twisting around, Peter opens the refrigerator door.
"Do you live here?" I'm hoping the answer is yes; otherwise, I'm going to feel awkward about Peter digging around in someone else's fridge. He pauses his movement long enough to give me a sideways glance and a wolfish smile. It's a look that I'm not at all comfortable with.
"Yeah," Peter answers, pulling out a half-empty, blue bottle of liquor. "Would you like to take this to my room?"
"No," I say too harshly, causing Peter's eyebrows to rise. "I mean, that's not what I meant. No, it is. I mean-" Oh, God. I drop my face into my free hand and take a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I didn't ask if you lived here because I wanted to go to your room. I'm here with someone, and even if I wasn't, I'm not that kind of girl."
He slowly nods. "I appreciate your honesty. We'll just hang out, all right?"
A pleased smile forms on my face. "Sure."
"Let me pour you a drink, and we'll see how you feel about that after."
Wait, what? Okay, something about this guy just went from friendly to creepy. My reluctance must show on my face because Peter laughs.
"I'm just kidding, Bella. Lighten up." But I still don't feel reassured. He tilts the blue bottle at me. "This has got a fruity taste to it-very girly. I know you'll like it better than the beer."
Peter's fingers circle the cup above mine as he attempts to take it away from me.
"No, really, I don't want-" I fight him momentarily; the plastic crinkles a little, and the liquid sloshes around, about to spill out on me. Reluctantly, I let go and watch as Peter tosses it into the sink. I may not have liked Jake's beer, but he gave it to me for a reason. I'm beginning to suspect it was so other guys like Peter wouldn't offer me one. He then pours the blue liquid into my red cup and shoves it back at me.
Placing my hands up in surrender, I shake my head. "No, please… you can have it."
"Don't be ridiculous; I got it for you." Peter's friendly smile never wavers. "C'mon, just try it."
My heart thumps harder in my chest while my subconscious screams, Peer pressure!
Maybe my survival instincts have kicked in, or maybe it's just intuition, but something about Peter's persistence raises a little red flag. I don't want to drink this.
Peter grabs one of my hands, forcing it around the cup as he steps closer to me. Automatically, I lean back until I'm pressed against the filthy countertop. Pushing the cup back into his chest, I firmly reiterate, "I don't want it."
Peter sighs, "Just take a drink, and if you hate it, we'll throw it out."
Suddenly Peter is hurled back; the blue liquid splashes out of the cup and onto his shirt. "She said she doesn't want it, asshole."
Jake positions himself in front of me, standing between me and Peter.
"What's your fucking problem, man?" Peter yells, throwing the cup to the ground and dispelling the remaining liquor. His chest puffs out, and he looks like he's ready to fight.
Jacob glares at him in a way that warns not to advance then turns to me. "You okay? What happened?"
"I'm fine; he just wouldn't stop pressuring me to take a drink."
The muscle in Jake's jaw twitches. "Did you?"
"No."
Jake sighs, "What happened to the beer I gave you?"
"He threw it out," I answered honestly.
"She didn't like it," Peter interrupts, causing Jake to face him once more. "I got her something better."
Before I realize what's happening, Jake's fist is flying, connecting with Peter's jaw in an audible punch and dropping him to the ground. My hands automatically cup my mouth and nose as I let out a surprised scream.
"Jake!" I'm yelling I'm so panicked. "You hit him!"
"Yeah," Jake says like I'm the stupid one for pointing it out. Well, maybe I am, but I still can't wrap my head around it.
"Why did you hit him?" I start to crouch down next to Peter on the floor, though I'm not really sure why; maybe to make sure he's all right since he's just starting to pick himself back up, but Jake quickly grips my hand to stop me.
"Are you fucking kidding me right now?" Still angry and now seeming a little irked at me, he intensely continues, "He tried to date-rape you."
The blood drains from my face as his words hit home. I may have had my suspicions about the drink before, but hearing Jake confirm it makes it all the more real to me. And terrifying.
Oh God, what if I had taken a drink?
Jake's frustrated gaze softens as he brings our interwoven fingers to his lips, kissing them softly. "Let's get out of here."
We walk around the kitchen island, about to step into the adjoining dining room when Peter's voice calls out to us, "Is that what it takes to get in your pussy? If I cheap-shot your boyfriend, you gonna fuck me too?"
Jake stiffens, his hand tightening in mine, and I wonder if he's going to turn around, but he chooses to continue walking while I duck my head, embarrassed that Peter's outrage has gained the attention of the dining room occupants-Embry and Quil among them.
"Hey, I'm talking to you!" Peter yells again, but this time he reaches out, grabbing my elbow to forcefully stop me.
"Ow!" I cry out, trying to loosen my bruised arm from his grasp. What is it with people grabbing my elbow today?
Jake snaps at the sound of my cry; I swear he's growling as he lets go of my hand and twists around. His fingers wrap themselves around Peter's neck, digging into his skin. Jake seethes, "Let her go."
Peter squeezes my elbow tighter, causing me to suck in a sharp breath before he shoves me back. I stumble and scream at the same time as Peter's now-free hand swings in an uppercut, colliding with Jake's chin.
Then all hell breaks loose.
Punches are flying, people are shouting, and I'm immobile, too terrified to do anything but watch.
Jake's clearly the better fighter of the two as he's dodging most of Peter's shots but landing his own. Suddenly, a third male shoves through the crowd, aiding Peter as he rams into Jake's side. Embry quickly jumps in, his arms wrapping around the unknown male, pulling him off of Jake and joining the fight. Now there are twice as many fists soaring, their bodies all crashing together in attempts to take the other down. It's only a few seconds before Quil jumps in, partly breaking up Embry's fight and partly joining it.
Finally, Jake knocks Peter to the ground, and the unknown male gives up, knowing he's fighting a losing battle. The three La Push boys stare victoriously down at them, breathing heavily.
"Get the fuck out of my house," Peter growls, wiping at his bloodied lip.
"Gladly," Jake sardonically replies. Turning around, he searches the crowd for me, finding me almost instantly. I swallow, still scared, even though the fighting is over, and concerned for Jake. Is he hurt? Is Embry?
Jake hesitantly places his warm hand on my side, as if he thought it might scare me. It doesn't. In fact, I want it. His touch feels comforting and protective. It's what I need after everything that's just transpired.
"Come on, Princess."
Jake starts to lead me away, but then a horrible thought enters my mind, suddenly stopping me. "The bottle."
"What?"
"The blue bottle, the one Peter drugged, it's still in the kitchen. We can't leave it there. What if he tries to give it to another girl?" Jake's jaw tightens as he looks back toward the kitchen and nods. Rushing back together, I grab the bottle and pass it over to Jake.
A sinister grin spreads on his lips as he looks down at it. Turning to Peter, he yells, "Heads up, asshole."
With impeccable aim, he throws the bottle over Peter's head, hitting the wall behind him. The glass explodes, raining little shattered pieces and decorating the wall with the dripping blue liquor. I can't help but clasp my hand over my mouth, unsure whether I want to gasp or laugh. I think I do a little of both.
Jake's hand on my back quickly guides us through the party and out the front door, Embry closely following. Quil's already standing outside, waiting for us in the yard, and I'm confused when I feel Jake tense beside me. He drops his hand from my back, angrily charging at Quil. Embry immediately takes over his vacated space, placing a warm hand over my shoulder blade.
Jake shoves Quil back with both hands. "Where the fuck were you?"
"What the hell are you talking about?" Quil defensively asks. "I was right behind you!"
"You fucking left her alone!"
"What?" Quil and I mirror a baffled look. Jake's pissed at him over me?
"I left her with you and come back to some prick trying to feel up my girl!" A small amount of joy flares in my chest, and my mouth drops open slightly. Did he just call me his girl? Did he mean to say that?
"How the fuck was I supposed to know you wanted me to babysit your girlfriend?"
Jake takes a step back, his hands fisting his hair in an obvious effort to keep his anger reigned in. Looking down, he mutters the words, but I can still hear them. "She's not my fucking girlfriend."
Oddly enough, that simple - yet true - statement cuts painfully into my heart.
"C'mon, man, look at her!" Embry speaks up. "Does she look like the kind of girl who can handle herself in there?"
"Hey," I object, offended. I'm not a child. I don't need to be 'babysat.' I think, under the circumstances, I held my own pretty well. I said no to Peter, didn't I?
Embry glances down at me and shrugs, not going back on what he just said. But I don't even care anymore as I take in his face. His eye is swollen and cut, blood trickling down his cheekbone.
"Oh, Embry! Your eye!" I turn more fully to face him, one hand clutching at his arm while the other reaches to touch his cheek. Biting my lip, I stop my hand half way in midair. He laughs slightly, bringing his sleeve up to wipe the blood; he winces a little as he touches it.
"Ah, hell, it's nothing. The bastard just got a lucky shot is all."
"It's not nothing," I disagree, concerned. "We should put something on it. I've got a first aid kit in the trunk of my car."
I look to Jake partly because he still holds my keys and partly because I want to check him over too, but it's too dark and he's too far away for me to tell just yet. I didn't see him bleeding anywhere while we were inside, but I still feel the need to be sure.
He sighs deeply. Pointing at Quil, he irritably snaps, "I'll deal with you later."
Quil has the audacity to smile. "That mean you're coming tonight?"
Not giving a yes or a no, Jake grunts, already walking toward me with his hand extended. With my fingers still curled in Embry's jacket, I gently tug as I step back, wordlessly telling him to come with us as I take Jake's hand in mine.
Silently, we walk through the trashed yard to my car, Jake sneaking his arm around my waist somewhere along the way there. I continue to search his features for injuries to no avail. It's too dark to see much, but I'm pretty sure he isn't bleeding. Popping the trunk, I slide a large, red and white bag to me, using the dim trunk light to see inside.
"Is that your first aid kit?" Embry inquires. "I thought those things were supposed to be small and travel-sized." He indicates with his hands, making a box shape in the air. "That thing could be used to smuggle illegal imports to Canada."
"It's an emergency kit," I giggle while removing a blanket, jumper cables, and a rope. "The first aid is supposed to be somewhere inside."
He laughs. "You mean you don't know?"
"I've never opened it before. My car's only broken down once since I got it." I give Jake a pointed look. He cocks his eyebrow back at me.
"Well," Embry peeks into the bag next to me, "if I ever get lost in the woods, I hope you and this bag are with me…actually, that scenario wouldn't be half bad." He winks and throws his arm around my shoulders.
It's quickly ripped away as Jake growls, "Keep your goddamn hands to yourself, Call."
Embry just rolls his eyes. "I'm just joking around, Black," he mocks. "You know, you're really pissy when you don't get your way."
"Just hurry up and get your fucking Band-Aid so we can go."
Uncomfortably, I clear my throat, bringing their attention back to me. I hate interrupting; I really don't want their focus or anger to be turned on me, but Embry's cut is still my top priority. The trail of blood down his cheek hasn't lessened, and I'm starting to wonder just how bad it is.
"Sit down, Embry," I instruct, pointing to the bumper of the car.
"You gonna doctor me up?" His smile relaxes me slightly. I quickly glance at Jake to make sure we're okay too, but he stands with his arms crossed and his face impassive. Well, at least he isn't glaring at me.
I begin wiping at Embry's cheek, cleaning carefully around the cut and trying not to apply too much pressure to his black eye. Thankfully, the bleeding has stopped, but God, his eye looks awful. With the trunk's light, I can see the full extent of his injury. His cheekbone is swelling, and the bruise looks much more prominent now than it did a minute ago.
"Come on, it can't be that bad," Embry teases, his hand brushing lightly against my leg. I suddenly realize that I've been holding my breath, my teeth biting hard into my lower lip and my brows knitting tightly together.
I try to relax my face and force a smile, but I don't think I can. I can't help but feel like this is somehow my fault. Instead, I focus on opening the antiseptic wipes.
Embry playfully smiles as I dab at his cut. "So, you always gonna be around to nurse me when I get hurt?"
Jake exhales loudly. Looking over Embry's shoulder, I see him shift his weight, his arms flexing.
"I dunno," I reply, my eyes still on Jake.
Finally, I finish by gently slipping on the butterfly bandage as Embry continues to joke, "Maybe we can get you a cute little nurse's outfit for next time."
"Fuck off, Embry," Jake growls. "You're done now."
"I'll go when my nurse says it's okay." Embry's words are teasing, but they have an edge about them.
Jake swiftly slips in front of me. "Get your own fucking girl, Embry; this one's mine."
"Thought she wasn't your girlfriend," Embry pointedly retorts, raising his eyebrows.
Jake gives him a dirty look and slams the trunk. "Let's go, Princess."
Embry watches Jake's retreating form, disappointedly shaking his head. "See ya', Sweetheart. Try to keep him out of trouble, will you?"
Involuntarily, I give out a sharp laugh. As if I can control him. "Bye, Embry."
Sliding into the passenger seat, I look at Jake, the interior lights finally illuminating his face. "Oh, Jacob," I breathe.
He looks questioningly at me as I bring my hand up to his jaw, my fingers barely touching the dark shadow that stretches to his chin. It's the bruising result of Peter's uppercut.
"Are you okay?" I almost choke on the words.
Jake smirks, "Yeah, it's not like I haven't taken a hit to the jaw before."
I bite the inside of my cheek; I feel like crying. Looking down at my hands, I murmur, "That may be true, but tonight it was on account of me."
"Hey," he places a finger under my chin, "you didn't do this. The prick inside did, and he deserved the ass kicking he got too."
I can't help but smile a little. I'm not an advocate of violence by any means, but Peter did deserve it.
Leaning forward, Jake slowly takes my lips in his, kissing me softly.
A small whimper emits from my throat as his hand slides up my waist. Following his lead, I part my lips just enough to deepen the kiss, asking him for more. He complies easily while the hand on my waist moves up, his thumb brushing the underside of my breast. I don't mind; in fact, I want more. I press my body closer, my fingers curling into his hair as I try to convey my desire through my actions alone. It must work because, in the next second, Jake is cupping my breast and squeezing gently.
Suddenly, my rude inner voice returns, asking, What the hell are you doing? Have you so stupidly forgotten you're a bet?
I shove the voice back, the bigger part of me taking over. Yes, I'm terrified that Jake could be acting, that he could be doing this in an attempt to bed me and win the bet. But dammit, how am I supposed to know anything if I keep my heart at a distance?
I like him, and right now, that's all I need to know.
Our kiss begins to slowly die down, and all too soon, he's pulling away from me. Opening my eyes, I'm almost surprised to find that the dome lights have automatically shut off, shrouding us in darkness once again.
"We'll save more of that for later," his husky tone seductively whispers. I can barely see the smirk decorating his face.
I almost ask if that's a promise, but I compose myself. "You're right; it's really late."
Turning the ignition in the car, Jake laughs, "Night isn't over yet, Princess."
A/N: Okay, it's official I am a time management FAIL. I have many excuses for why this chapter took me so long to update. None of them good.
Since it's been a while, I have several things I'd like to say...
First, thank you so much to everyone who voted for Bet on Me in the JBNP Winter Awards! I was speechless for a good two hours after finding out BoM won first place in the Favorite All Human category and Runner-up in the Most Original Story category. Also, The Mess of a Wedding Dress won runner-up in the One Shot category. I'm honored really, and so humbled to know that this story has been so well received. Thank you again and many hugs!
Second, the lovely and extremely talented Nikitajuice has made me a movie-esque BoM poster! It's so beautiful and perfect that I couldn't possibly love it more. I have it posted on my profile page and urge you to please check it out!
Third, I'd love to know what you think of the chapter! That was a bit of a wild first date, yeah?
As always, huge thanks and all my love to my beta Jkane180 and my prereaders wordslinger and bellaBBblack!