My apologies for the lateness of this chapter. I couldn't let it go because I was incredibly nervous about it, but Alby Mangroves came to my rescue! HUGE thanks to her for giving up her time to pre-read and beta this monster for your enjoyment. I've never worked with a beta-type person before, and she made this experience wonderful. (Any errors are on me since I added and took away after she was finished.)

Also, a big hug and kiss to my husband, Jase, an Army veteran. He is my savior when it comes to military facts, gun info, fighting, assholery, "male voices" and being a bad-ass.

So where are the strong?

And who are the trusted?

And where is the harmony?

Sweet harmony.

-Peace, Love and Understanding, A Perfect Circle

. . . | . . .

C H A P T E R - E L E V E N:

Complexities of Fire

~. . . . -=|=- . . . .~

Days turned into nights, and before I knew it a week had passed without a sign of my tags. My efforts to try to convince Alice we needed to leave proved unsuccessful. She wouldn't believe those people would ever harm me. She was convinced they were 'made from the scraps of heaven'... or however the hell she put it. The only one who came close to fitting the description was Bella. She kept to herself, and her faint grin was only given when she stuck her nose into the fresh basil growing at the edge of the garden. She'd tuck some in the pocket of her waist apron and continue her chores.

She became synonymous with the scent. If there was a trail of basil in the house, she wasn't far from it. I only knew the small things about her: the basil, her preferred vegetable (potatoes). I knew she liked jeans and a t-shirt most days, and it seemed she refused to wear shoes while in the garden or house. But, there were still things I didn't know.

Like the truth.

Nights were dreaded. More rustling scratched through the walls, and the hall creaked and moaned as if someone were patrolling. Being alone, I noticed the sounds more than ever and thought about re-joining Alice in her room on the night following the discovery that my tags were missing. But something fastened me to the bed, under the sheets and to the pillow. It willed me not to move, and I did just that. My mind eventually silenced enough where I could sleep. I welcomed any dreams that might come, but none ever did.

If I saw anything, it was the same nightmares of downtown, and being trapped under the rubble. It was never about blood or death, those things I could handle, but life slowly slipping away and there was nothing I could do except watch. That was my nightmare; helplessness.

. . . | . . .

I plunged the pitch-fork into the dirt and sifted through.

Nothing there.

I did it again.

Nothing there. Oh. Yes there is. I plucked the ball into a wheelbarrow a few feet away.

"How's it comin' along over there?" Charlie called through the wall. He was on the other side, engaged in the same activity: cleaning the stalls.

After breakfast, and right before he and Jasper saddled their horses to go after tomorrow's dinner, Emmett had shown me how to do the chore.

Sifting through dirt for animal shit. It was my childhood all over again, only this time I wasn't using my hands. "It's going alright," I said scooping up a wet spot, holding back my disgust for the overwhelming ammonia smell. "Man, this is strong."

"Eh, you'll get used to it after a while. I don't even notice it anymore."

"Sir, don't get me wrong or anything, because I do appreciate all that you and Renee have done for us, but I hope it never gets to the point where I don't notice this smell."

His laugh wrapped around the ceiling overhead, and I grinned too.

A few minutes later, he emerged from behind the dark, wooden wall which separated us. "Whelp, I'm all done with mine. When you finish, go on in the house and get some water, and if those women have lunch ready, get'cha somethin' to eat."

"Yes, sir," I said, watching him tow his small load of manure and waste out the back of the barn, where we were to dump the piles.

I made quick work of the final stall, hung up the pitch-fork and wheeled the load to the back and dumped it into the compost heap. Something white caught my eye to the left.

Her.

My mind wandered to some days ago when I first saw her ladling water into her hands and washing off her body in a most innocent, yet seductive way. The image haunted me, viciously and with razor-sharp teeth.

She stood on bare toes at the top of a slender ladder, reaching with one hand into the top branches while the other steadied her weight, a basket draped around that wrist. The same white dress she wore days before stood out against the speckle of red and the green leaves while her hair shimmered in the angled sunlight.

The curve of her back and shoulders when she reached could've been captured and displayed as works of art.

My chest felt smaller as a realization dawned. She had washed and handled my clothes the other day. If anybody had a chance to see those tags, she did. My search yielded zero results, and I'd looked everywhere I'd been the day I lost them. I retraced my steps countless times. I'd looked in the shed while Charlie picked tools for the garden. If they were lying on the ground in there, they would've been easy to spot. But, nothing.

I would ask her discreetly, if possible, if she'd seen my tags. Instead of going into the house I parked the wheelbarrow in the barn. Then, moved toward the back of the property to the small trees which sat against part of the fence across an area of grass. Nearly three-quarters of the way there, she began to twist toward me, and caught my gaze before her foot slipped from it's place on the ladder. I was powerless to stop it, and not nearly close enough to catch her!

The basket slid from her wrist as she fell to the ground, catching herself with her hand but collapsing on it. I ran the rest of the way. She sucked air through her teeth with a slight hiss. I knelt next to her as she lay on her side cradling her wrist, her face wrinkled with pain.

"Holy shit! I'm so sorry. Don't move. What hurts?" She pulled herself into a sitting position, and I resisted my natural instinct to touch her so I could check for injuries, or offer comfort. "I am so sorry. That was my fault. Does your wrist hurt?"

Her injured hand was balled into a fist, but she released the tension and opened her palm. We both stared at her blood-streaked skin. A massive puncture wound in the center of her palm was the culprit. What did she fall on?

Tears fell onto her cheeks, and she smeared the red against her white apron before trying to tear away part of her skirt with her fingers, sniffling. She was unsuccessful. I took up the fabric and ripped from the bottom. It tore sideways. I looked to her before ripping the rest away, searching for permission, but she was watching my hands at her knees. "Is this okay?" I asked.

She nodded.

"It's going to go all the way around," I warned. My breath had caught up with the moment and my heart found more of a pace the longer I knelt beside her. Warmth rolled into my forearms and shoulders when her dark, tear-filled eyes met mine.

She nodded again.

I ripped the would-be tourniquet away, pulling it to the sky then reaching underneath her legs to coax it to meet the starting point. "Let me see it," I nearly whispered. With resistance, she allowed her injured hand to stretch out. My fingers held onto one of hers, a slight breath releasing when our skin met. It was slightly rough, like mine. I was sure the contact played on my face along with all the feelings that wanted to burst from every pore as I wound the material around over and over again.

"Good as new," I said, tying the knot on the back of her hand. She turned her palm over, inspecting my job. It wasn't the best bandage and wouldn't last long, but I'd had experience with dressing small wounds while in the field, and knew it would do for now. "Alice probably has something in her bag she can put on it later. She may still have pills for pain."

She gave a puzzled look. "We robbed a couple of hospitals," I said with a puff of amusement. Her teeth weighed on the flesh of her lips and her lashes fluttered before she searched for another object to look at.

The red stain still at the center of her dress attracted my stare. It wasn't as bright as I remembered.

In fact, up close it appeared old. I pointed to it. "I guess it didn't come out?" I felt slightly foolish. Of course it didn't come out, Edward. "Well, I guess it wouldn't, would it?"

She looked to it, then to me. She shook her head, eyes alight an expression which seemed effortless with content. I was curious, but maybe she couldn't explain it, and I wasn't sure how to ask yes and no questions not knowing where to start. Charlie did say when we arrived that Jasper and Emmett had killed a bear the same morning. Maybe that's what it was from. The meat needed time to drain, but it wouldn't have had enough time if it was butchered only hours after the kill. It would be bloody. It was logical, and the explanation, truth or not, satisfied me.

If only I could find reason in her silence.

"So," I started, picking a blade of grass beneath me. My stomach lit with quivers. "Your mom told me you weren't always silent."

Her eyes fell to the ground, the corners of her lips withdrew and I was left to look at a woman who was perhaps just as lost and broken as I was. There was something similar in her that I felt in my heart. Lost hope. I swallowed harshly. I didn't know if this topic was off limits. She wasn't like Alice with no boundaries. There was a brick wall between Bella and the world which I wanted to tear down.

She shook her head. No.

A cool breeze separated us for a moment, stray hairs brushed against her cheeks. I wanted to reach up and smooth them away, but wouldn't. I didn't know how she'd react. Would she be frightened? (She's not Alice, and won't like it.)

"So what made you stop talking?" I asked. She inhaled, looking as though she was about to speak, and I waited anxiously for a word, or moan; anything that would carry a hint of her voice, even if it was a whisper. But, instead of speaking, she pointed to her collarbone like it meant something. "Your collarbone?"

No.

She pointed to a mark that reflected differently in the light than the rest of her skin. A scar. Three of them, to be exact, uniform and parallel.

"Did he hurt you?"

She tucked in her lips. I didn't think she was satisfied with my translation. She tried again and again, until I could decipher her silent language. It was like communicating with a child that couldn't speak: pointing, nods, shakes of the head, various facial expressions. It was exhausting, but the more she revealed, the more my heart sank.

She was afraid of her husband. He wasn't a good man, but anybody could tell that. Her mind froze, she explained, and when she showed why, I didn't want to believe it.

"Jasper killed someone in front of you, and it scared you? But, why would he kill someone?"

She grabbed her arm fiercely, then touched her collarbone again.

"They grabbed you?"

Yes.

"And, he killed them for that?"

Yes.

I'd wanted to kill men for eyeballing. Wanted to, but hadn't. "Do you think it's because he was trying to protect you?" I asked, wondering if I underestimated the feelings Jasper had for her. Perhaps he genuinely cared for Bella. Maybe Alice was right this time.

She shrugged, eyes to her lap. She fingered the contours of the cloth delicately, then turned her palm to the sky. Blood had seeped through the white.

"I protect Alice like that all the time. Men try to touch her." I reached for her injury, expecting her to shy away, but she didn't. The back of her hand rested in my palm as I inspected under the red-soaked cloth. "It's not bleeding anymore. A couple of drops, but nothing major." I released the bandage, setting it back in its place. "Anyway, that's what families do. They watch out for each other. Maybe that's what he was doing for you."

But, why would she shy away from someone who cared about her? Unless... "Does he hurt you, Bella?"

She shrugged slowly as her frown appeared.

It was answer enough. He'd hurt her before, and he'd do it again. No, Alice wasn't right. Even as I searched Bella's eyes thoroughly, I saw the pain. Our stare lasted for only a moment before she broke, looking at her hand again.

Our hands were still joined. Only they weren't still. My thumb grazed over the ripped dress on her palm over and over. I suddenly became aware that I'd been doing it since we first touched.

I removed it. "I'm sorry. I've cut into your work. If it weren't for me you'd probably be done, now." I stood to lift the fallen basket beside the ladder. "Let me help you."

We placed all the apples into the basket, and before she could lift it, it was already in my hand. "I'll hold, you pick. I don't want you falling again." I grinned. A ghost of a smile hugged the curve of her lips as she took a step back then tucked a piece of hair behind her ear before settling onto the ladder. She was allowing me to help her, and I imagined that invisible wall beginning to crumble a little more as I held the basket to my chest, both arms wrapped tightly around it.

More apples piled in, and the movement of her arm captured me. It was a silly thing to think about.

She pushed herself onto the tips of her toes again, the white dress waving in the breeze around her lean legs. I swallowed, imagining them wrapped around my waist. I imagined what her skin would feel like moving beneath mine, or the tickle I would feel if her hair fell over her shoulder and onto my cheek if she were over me. I wouldn't be able to see her face in the darkness unless a lantern was lit or the moon shone brightly, but I knew that I'd be helpless against the expressions that would lift and darken her features. They would change, if only slightly, every second, every movement in pleasure or pain. She would whisper something so faintly that I wouldn't be able to make out her words, and in that mystery, even though it would be mere breath on my ear, I'd find a release to my worries.

But, she wasn't mine. She never would be. She was the wife of a hick. Goddamn asshole, he was. He didn't deserve a wife, especially her.

If only there was a way to get rid of him. Murder, maybe. I didn't need much reason, just a small incentive to tumble over the edge of sanity for a few moments while I strangled him or put a bullet in his head. I might show him mercy by making it quick. Emmett would need to be dropped first, because surely he wouldn't sit idle while I killed his friend. He'd fight. Hard.

I saw their deaths in my head as I stood at the base of the ladder while Bella lowered fruit. When she finished, she tried to take the basket from me, but I moved it with a smile and low chuckle. "I've got it. You just show me where to put it." She tried so hard to refrain from grinning, but I saw it being held back.

I followed her past the barn. "You know, I remember apples being shiny, and really red." These weren't. They were faint; yellow and pink brushed along each other to create an interesting pattern. Of course she didn't acknowledge, and I didn't expect her to. I'd just wanted to make conversation as we walked to the side of the house and stopped in front of two wide doors slanted into the ground. She opened them one by one and entered, stepping down slowly. I followed close behind, making sure I knew where each wooden step was before I put my foot down.

The air was musty and much cooler. The only light we had was behind us. Empty baskets and odd pieces of small furniture littered the floor while the shelves looked to be full of jars, books, old electronics and other various items. It all looked normal, stuff that any household would have in a basement-like area. It felt like a normal basement, cluttered, but slightly creepy the further we walked into the dark, with shelves collecting dust in our way. There was a flicker of light on the other side. Perhaps a lantern for whoever ventured down from the house.

"Bella, where are you?" I whispered into the shadow, having lost sight of my silent guide. She stuck out her head from behind a shelf, illuminated by a ray of light coming from the double-door entrance. "I'm going to get lost in here if you run off without me."

She pointed to the shelf where she wanted the basket. I set it down. "That's it, huh? Just pick 'em and shelve 'em?"

She nodded.

"Awesome." I stretched my arms over my head, stepping out of her way so she could shuffle past, but she didn't. She stood there, mostly covered in dark, staring at me. Her hands moved over one another in front of her. There was weight in her stare, and it made my stomach warm. I swallowed. We were alone, and it was my chance to ask her about the tags, but as I began to speak she moved.

She wasn't aggressive or confident in her movements when she stepped toward me. In fact, she seemed unsure, but it didn't stop her. The closer she moved, the more energy she gave. It seduced me as her fingers feathered over my shirt when she leaned in, causing me to flinch.

Denying I wanted it would've made me a liar, and when she pressed her mouth to my bottom lip, I didn't want to hide the truth. I embraced her kiss, hugging her top lip between my own.
The ache that built inside me couldn't be torn down. It was an ache that had been erected slowly over time. Those were the most dangerous kind, the most wanting and needing. I was afraid of that desire. I was afraid of its discovery, of what it would lead to. It was dangerous to be with her, but I hadn't been with a woman in so long, and she felt so good leaning against me.

I thought of her on the ladder, and legs that went on forever under that dress. It was only an arm's length away, that vision. We'd only get one chance, that chance, right there and then.
When she pulled away from our brief touch to slip back into the shadow, my hips twisted with agony and longing. I wanted to move to touch her again, but instead, a huff of amusement escaped my chest. Joy. Elation. Something of that sort. "What was that for?" I asked.

Her chin touched her shoulder and she cast her eyes to the concrete beneath, darkness creeping even more over her skin. Was she embarrassed? Did she regret it? Was she ashamed?

I didn't want her to feel any of those things. More than anything, I wanted her to know it was alright. Her action wasn't unwarranted, much less something to feel ashamed of. My finger pulled her chin into the light, raising her to me so that I could see her face once more. The closer I looked the more I saw. There were specks of gold captured by her irises, almost iridescent. Unusual for such dark eyes. So full of curiosity and wonder, possibly desire.

Her hair was soft under my fingertips as I brushed it away from her temple with both hands, only to let them fall to her shoulders then arms with delicate intentions. Cold-skinned and shivering, her teeth played on her bottom lip after a quick brush of her tongue. It glistened invitingly, and the pain I'd felt before, full of want, turned to need. There would be nothing to satisfy the man constructing himself inside my skin except her.

Like gradual heat from damp leaves, I leaned forward, asking her to meet me halfway with a small flourish of my fingers against the back of her arm. My pulse quickened when it was apparent she didn't need a lot of convincing. She wanted to kiss me. She wanted me, even if only in that stolen moment.

Our breaths collided before our lips met once more. A brief touch, then we parted, only slightly.

Another touch. Longer than the first, then parted.

Another touch, more firm, more sure. No space came between us. Achingly slow, I pulled and pushed her lips against mine until there was rhythm and closure, then openness and damp.

I stroked the back of her neck, allowing myself to become absorbed in her skin and hair, the smell of basil filled me, set me on fire. And when a breathy whimper from her mouth filled the small space between our lips, the ache soared, rose above my head and swallowed us.

God, I wanted her. I wanted to surround myself with her body, to bury and never emerge again. We'd drown. I wanted to drown. Suicide would be found with her because I was a dead man if anyone found us. I'd risk death to feel her around me.

BANG!

My eyes were open. My heart began to race and I eased her away from me. Frightened to turn around, I stared into her face and thought it wise to conceal us in the dark corner. I pushed on her hips until her back met the wall then peered over each of my shoulders.

No movement. No person. No Jasper.

No Jasper.

Jasper.

Her husband.

What was I doing?

What are you doing?

It was stupid. It is stupid.

We shouldn't even be down here.

Not like this.

Her hands twisted into my shirt at my waist. Her head turned away from doors and light, staring further into the cellar which seemed to carry on endlessly. "What was that?" I whispered into her ear, trying to see past the wall of shelves. Darkness engulfed me, as it did her and we remained until we were certain there was nothing there. "They're going to be looking for us soon. Let's get out of here."

I lead her to the stairs, emerging from the cool dank and into the warmth of daylight. I stepped up just until I could peer over the double doors angling toward the ground.Nothing. My chest which had been churning with worry loosened and I stepped the rest of the way, but tripped over the final step. I caught myself before I fell, and couldn't help but huff with a grin, embarrassed. Bella's eyes shone with amusement, dimples pushing into her cheeks from her barely-there smirk as she stepped up the stairs, her skirt gathered in one hand, with more grace than me.

I wanted to reach down to offer help, and even did, but played it off by putting my hand into my pocket.

Not smart. Not smart. Not smart. Not where anyone can see us. You just kissed her... another man's wife! Lay low. Pretend it never happened.

But, how could I? How could I lie to myself when I wanted to do it again? I wanted to pull her back into the cellar and close the doors behind us, locking us in the dark from where our secret wouldn't escape.

We lowered the doors back to the frame unaware of the third person that had joined us.

"What are you smiling about?"

I froze. Shit.

I turned to face him - the man I dreaded seeing since mine and Bella's lips parted a few moments earlier. His clothes hadn't changed since this morning, and he hid behind his hat as usual. There was an echo of familiarity in his stare, a warning he'd given me when I looked at Bella. Stay away, it said.

A strange feeling swung between us, and I wanted nothing more than for it to be swept away with the wind, like decay. I wanted the air to clear. I wanted my breaths, strung with guilt, to slow so the panic wouldn't show on my face while he waited for an answer.

Did he know? Had he crept down the stairs while I was distracted? Fuck! "No reason," I replied, then exhaled softly. "Just helping Bella with some apples she picked. She had hurt her hand earlier."

He gave one nod. "Renee mentioned you hadn't been in for lunch yet. Why don't you go get you somethin' to eat. It's been a while since you've been done, right?"

"Not too long," I reasoned, hoping to disarm his cryptic tone. But the only way to lessen his intensity was to move away from Bella, to show him I had no interest in his wife. Any suspicion he had was unfounded... at least in his mind. I glanced at Bella, but those once-curious brown eyes were expressionless and now belonged to Jasper.

I took a few steps then rounded the corner of the house to swing the screen door open. The family, including Alice, were gathered in the kitchen. Charlie and Emmett hovered over plates at the table. Charlie had already cleared his, but it appeared Emmett had just began. His big arms were guarding the round edges of his food, like an animal ready to defend what was his. Renee and Alice clanked around at the counter, and when Alice flashed her eyes to mine they told of unhappiness. Perhaps she was tired, and I'd finally be able to convince her to give up these lessons from a tired, old woman.

I moved to pour a glass of water. "Get anything?" I asked Emmett.

He finished chewing before answering. "Naw, nothin'."

I took a small sip from my glass, not wanting to finish it too quickly. "There's always tomorrow."

"Maybe," Charlie said rubbing his palms against his face then clasped them together in front of him on the table. "We've gotta lot of stuff to do around here tomorrow."

"You have him here." Emmett pointed to me.

Charlie shook his head. "But, I don't have time to teach him all y'all know."

"So, we just gonna go without meat the next few days? Eat like vegetarians and starve?"

Renee chortled behind me, and I took another sip of water. "Emmett," she said, taking something small from Alice, "we're not gonna starve. We have more than enough for everyone."

"We need meat, Ma. We can't just eat vegetables."

"We eat 'em all the time."
"But we need protein."

I set my glass on the counter so I could use it later. "You could always eat a few more eggs at breakfast if you want protein. Also, there's protein in some vegetables," I suggested.

But Emmett wasn't satisfied. He shook his head in disgust. He'd never survive on the road.
Although he was large and tough-looking, he seemed, I dunno... like a spoiled brat.

"You'd know, wouldn't you, city boy? Where'd you say you was from again? San Diego? How many fags they got livin' there?" He said it all without taking his eyes off his plate, probably treasuring the last meat he'd eat for the next couple of days.

It wasn't the end of the world.

That had already happened.

I could've come back with some smart-ass remark about him being from Texas or some shit, but my thoughts and attention no longer belonged inside the house. There was something happening outside that no one, not even Alice, was alerted to. At first, I thought nothing of it, but the closer I listened, the more my brow furrowed. My boots carried me across the tile floor then through the screen door like it wasn't even there.

My ears burned, my body soaked with adrenaline by the time I was down to the ground from the house in one stride, looking for the noise.

Jasper and Bella came into my sight. My teeth gnashed when I saw him dragging her by the elbow toward the barn. She resisted, dug her bare heels into the ground and tore at his fingers with her free hand. He pulled her fiercely, then snapped his hand across her face, blowing her to the ground!

"Son of a bitch!" I muttered, nearly breathless. My nails dug into my palms.

I'd kill him!

I felt the ground twist under me when I lunged forward into a sprint as he pulled her from the dirt. On my toes, I was silent, and he didn't even hear my approach until I was merely feet away. He turned toward me and tried to brace for my impact, but it was too late. A roar escaped my throat as I barreled into his torso with my shoulder, and we fell to the ground with huffs and groans.

I wanted to land on top of him to gain the upper hand, but the impact threw us apart, and agony split through my ribs when I hit the dirt. Bella had also ended up on the ground, struggling to get up and away from us.

I rolled over and rose with ease, but winced when I stood straight. Jasper was up before me, his hat in the dirt and hair matted to his head. His clothes were dusty, and soon to be bloody.

He started for me, a low yell echoing off the outer barn walls with a fist reared behind him. I let him come. I let him believe he'd get a punch in, but when he swung I ducked and blew a fist into his stomach causing him to double over. I barely felt the pain throbbing in my side as I kicked him in his. He fell and I sat on top of his stomach.

I thought of pushing my hands into his tender throat and watching the life slowly drain from his eyes, but I wanted more than that. I wanted him to feel pain. He tried to push me off, a pathetic attempt, but I punched him across the face. Again and again.

Again.

Again.

Blood sprayed from his lip and nose, and before I could get another punch in I was hauled off.

"Get off me!" I yelled, fighting the arms across my chest. They held me tight, and I knew from the flex of the forearms it was Emmett. Still, I pushed against him, struggling to finish off the man on the ground. He turned over, picked himself up and faced me. The grip around me tightened when Jasper's scowl turned into a smirk. He bared his teeth and I braced for the blow.
My head snapped to the left as the pain from the impact spread across my cheek. I thought my eye would explode! Another across my right sent my head in the other direction. Agony pursued me.

"Yeah! Hit him again!" Emmett shouted. I fought him, but there was no escape from his arms when mine were pinned to my ribs. As pain gouged into my sockets and seeped its way into my head, Jasper spit the blood from his mouth, nursing his knuckles. He stepped in once again to throw another punch with a smirk on his face.

I pushed off Emmett's chest with my back, ribs aching, and lifted my hips to kick Jasper in the chest. He fell backward to the ground. I thrust the back of my head into Emmett's face. His arms became lax. Breaking free, I seized Jasper's hair as he tried to push himself from the ground. A growl slipped through my lips as I thrust my knee into his face. He moaned then fell back.

Massive arms wrapped around me once more, holding me in place. Jasper got up, but I couldn't do anything before he approached and delivered a sharp blow with his shin to my groin. I moaned, coughed, wanted to spit blood, wanted to die. He stole the air from my lungs and pulled tears from the recesses.

"Fuck, dude!" Emmett shouted as we both leaned over. "You got me, too!"

It felt as though a vice had squeezed me.

"What the hell is going on out here?" Charlie yelled behind us.

Emmett released me, but I didn't have the strength to stand right away and fell to my knees cupping myself and wishing away the pain.

"Edward?" Alice said, yards away from us.

"He fuckin' started it!" Jasper said, wiping the blood away from his face. His flannel was stained, but it wasn't enough.

I lunged for him again, and pulled on his shirt, bringing him to my fist. Knocked back, he stumbled. I attacked with the other hand.

Blocked.

Fire spread across my cheek.

I countered, ignoring all the pain that gathered beneath the surface. I flung every punch I could. Some hit, some didn't.

"Edward! Stop it!" Alice said, pushing me away from him before stepping between us. "What's the matter with you?"

"He hit her!" I shouted, pointing at Bella who had backed away from everything. Her cheeks glistened in the sun as she wrung her hands in front of her.

"Edward, I think it's time for you to go inside, now," Charlie said nodding toward the house. "Go get cleaned up and cool down."

"Yeah, go get cleaned up, you pussy boy," Jasper said.

"Son of a bitch!" I stepped toward him again, anger driving me. Death held my fists as I raised them once more, but Charlie pushed me back. Emmett had stepped behind Jasper and pulled on his arms.

"Come on!" I yelled. "You and me! Right now! I'll kill you!"

"We just did that, Princess! You lost!" he taunted from behind Emmett's massive limbs.

"Edward! Edward! Stop!" Alice tried to reason as she pushed on my chest, but I didn't want to hear it. I wanted to hurt him.

"You only got in a shot cause your boyfriend helped you!"

His eyes widened. "That's it!" He tore at me, and if it weren't for everyone pushing against us, we could have finished it.

"Both of you!" Renee screamed. "Enough!" she pushed against Jasper, then pushed harder against me. I'd never seen a woman look at me like she did. The way her brow dipped into her eyes was slightly frightening. Emmett pulled Jasper. Charlie and Alice pushed me away.

Something trickled down my lips. I wiped it away with the sleeve of my shirt. Blood.

"Go upstairs!" Renee yelled.

"You ever touch her again," I said, pointing a finger, "and I'll kill you."

He heard me, but his reaction was strange. He smiled.

"Go, Edward!" Renee said again. "Don't come back down until you've cooled off!"

I made my way up to my room, Alice in tow. She shut the door behind us and locked it. Not that it would ever do any good.

I peeled off my shirt and tossed it into the corner. The late afternoon sunlight revealed my injuries in the mirror. I had a busted lip and a bloody nose, possibly a cracked rib, and later I'd have a black eye. My balls were on fire and though the adrenaline still coursed and dulled the pain, I gradually I felt it more and more.

"What the hell are you doing?" Alice asked, folding her arms across her chest.

I answered in the most sarcastic tone I had as I dipped the washcloth into the old, cold water in the basin from last night. "Cleaning myself off." I regretted it right after, knowing Alice wasn't to blame for what happened. I pressed the wet cloth to my face and began to wipe. I winced and hissed from the pain.

"That's not what I meant."

"Then what is it that you meant?" The stained cloth slowly turned the water red. I wrung it, then began to wipe again. "What did you mean?" I asked again when she didn't answer me. Her face was in the mirror, but she moved. The bed squeaked slightly under her weight.

"I saw you," she muttered. "In the cellar."

My lungs ceased to work properly. She knew, but how much? I dropped the rag then turned to look her in the eyes, but only saw the top of her head. "What did you see?"

She began fooling with her nails, picking what ever was underneath them; it was a nervous habit she had. "Everything."

I swallowed and wanted to disappear. Her tone might as well have killed me. I didn't know how intensely she felt for me, how deep her love was rooted until that moment - until that one, small word. Everything.

"Alice, I... I don't know what happened down there. She kissed me, then, I dunno."

"I know what happened. You don't have to tell me. I've memorized it by now." She rubbed her palm against her cheek and pressed her fingertips into her eyes. "Why? She's married. Why her?"

I didn't have an answer. "Because I was stupid and..." Aroused. Don't say aroused. "Just stupid."

"You were more than that. I don't blame Jasper for kicking your ass. I would've done the same thing. But imagine what he would do if he found out you kissed her. He'd kill you." She paused. "Like I wanna do to her."

For a kiss?"She didn't do anything wrong."

"She kissed you and she's married. Where I come from, that's wrong."

"But that's between her and her husband, not you and her. She hates him. He abuses her, and she was probably reaching out to someone she felt she could trust."

"Then why not her mom?" she asked. "Why not her father?"

"Maybe she doesn't trust them. I mean, they treat her like shit."

She stood. "I know that. Ever thought why?"

"More than you can imagine."

Her scrutiny became disinterest as her chin fell to her collarbone. "What is it that you want?"

We'd been over this a million times it seemed, and I was tired of answering the question. "You know what I want."

"Do you want her?"

"I can't have her," I whispered. "You know that."

"But, you're obviously interested."

"It was a kiss, Alice. It was nothing!"

"It's not nothing to me!" Her voice — hurt — wavered. Tears perked, then dripped when she blinked. She wrapped her arms around herself. "It's everything."

Without a motion, she drew me near. I wanted to tell her it would be alright. "Alice, I..."

The expression she wore turned cold, angry. "Don't." The slight shake of her head, although small, halted my steps. She wiped her cheeks and with a heavy breath asked, "Can we leave?"

"Leave? When?"

"I don't know. Soon. Tomorrow?"

I hated to leave without my tags. I hated having that part of me lost. Although they were close by, they might as well be a million miles away. However, I feared for our safety and tried to convince Alice we needed to leave for the past week, but she refused. After what happened, I couldn't show my face downstairs again. So, I nodded. It was time. "First thing tomorrow," I said, low.

"Just you and me?"

My eyes closed on her question. A memory — the darkness in the cellar — swallowed me as I spoke. "Yes."

She unhinged her arms from around herself with a grin that barely touched her lips. Before she walked through the door, she turned. "Are you gonna come down for dinner in a bit?"

I had already picked the wash cloth up again, waving it in the shallow bowl. "No, not tonight."

"I'll bring you something, then, after I help Renee."

I acknowledged her in the mirror, then she disappeared, shutting the door on me. I packed the few things I had laid out into my sack, then decided to empty everything out so I could re-pack neatly. Dirt and some old, small pieces of leaves fell onto the bed and floor. I picked up what I could then changed my socks.

I shined my boots and polished my knife after shaving the bristles from my face and neck. My guns were the only things missing, and Charlie said he'd put those away for me. I sat on the edge of the bed while the day quietly shifted into dusk. Dusk turned to night and still, I waited for Alice. I lay back on the pillow after lighting a candle, watching the glow wave and flicker across the patterns on the ceiling.

The uneasiness that accompanied being on the upper level of the house set in and kept me awake until I could no longer fight the swelling of my lids, muscles and bones.

Undisturbed.

Ow by Stephan Moccio

(beautiful, sad piece. found easiest on youtube.)