DISCLAIMER: If you were happy with the way the last chapter ended, then you should probably not read any further. You can consider that to be the last chapter of this story. If you want to continue onto the ending I have had planned from the beginning, then you can read ahead. Don't say I didn't warn you.

I own nothing Twilight.

Chapter Seventeen - Flightless Bird, American Mouth

I'm not looking forward to going back to school. Although Edward had assured me that the gossip mill was already onto another story-of-the-week, I knew enough about the teenagers of Forks to know that the second I stepped foot into that school, all eyes would be on me.

"Bells?" my father's voice says from outside my bedroom door.

"I'm up," I say back.

"Okay, your mom's making breakfast when you're ready," he says, waiting by the door for a few moments before walking away when I don't respond.

I'm lying in my bed, staring straight up at the ceiling. My legs ache, not use to standing and walking. Dr. Cullen told me that they would probably ache a lot for a few months until they were back to full strength. Then he said they would probably ache in the mornings and at night for the rest of my life, the pain a reminder of Jacob every single time I went to bed and every single time I woke up. I wiggle my toes, wincing at the sharp pain it causes. Slowly, I slide my legs over to the side of the bed, sitting up as I do. My feet hit the cold floor, I shiver as I rise.

"You can do this," I whisper to myself, referring more to going back to school than my abilities at standing and walking.

I find myself in front of my full-length mirror, for the first time since I arrived back at home. I haven't been able to bring myself to look into any of the mirrors in the house. There's too many memories of bruises, of cuts, of scars. All I saw in my head when I thought about looking was Jacob and the girl he created. The girl I have been trying so hard to leave behind.

But now I stand in front of it, finally having the nerve to look at the reflection before me. I'm wearing shorts and a t-shirt, an outfit I hadn't worn to bed in my home for the better part of a year. My skin is a pale, ghostly white. But it is clear. There are no bruises, nothing for me to hide. I can wear whatever I want and not worry about someone seeing my marks, not worry about being punished for wearing something someone thought I shouldn't.

The girl looking back at me, she has been to hell and back, but she has survived. She's still a little too skinny, a little too worn out, but she's going to make it.

"Hey sweetie," my mom says as I sit down at the kitchen table, "I've got pancakes and bacon."

She sets a plate down in front of me, the smell hitting my nose, causing my stomach to rumble. I am still in the process of getting my appetite back, only able to eat a small amount at a time. At first, the withdrawal from the OxyContin caused a constant state of nausea. Then, coming to terms with everything that had happened to me was too overwhelming, all I wanted to do was cry and sleep. Slowly, very slowly, I'm able to eat as the stress melts away, as the fear-the constant fear-dissipates.

"You ready for today?" mom asks, refilling her cup of coffee.

"No, not really. But I guess it's now or never," I smile weakly, taking in a mouthful of pancake.

We sit in silence, the only sound coming from upstairs as dad gets ready for work. Mom reads the paper, glancing up occasionally to sneak a peek at me. She's been doing that since I came home, watching me when she thinks I don't notice. Like I could disappear at any moment.

As I bite into a piece of bacon, there's a knock on the front door. Mom and I exchange confused looks as she stands to answer it.

"Bella?" she calls from the front foyer, "It's Edward."

I stop, mid-chew, surprise filling me. I thought we had agreed to meet in the school parking lot.

"Hey," he says as they both walk into the room.

I blush, looking at him in his jeans and t-shirt before glancing down and realizing I'm still in my pajamas.

"Hey," I say shyly.

"I'm going go to see what's taking your father so long," mom says, leaving the kitchen. How obvious could she be?

Edward pulls a chair over to mine, sitting so close that our knees are touching.

"I thought we were going to meet at school," I hand him a piece of my bacon.

"Yeah," he takes it, but sets it back on my plate, "I need to tell you something."

My heart immediately starts pounding at his words, knowing what he is about to say. We have seen each other everyday since I've been home, he comes over in the afternoon after school. He usually stays passed dinner, watching whatever sports game happens to be on television on the couch next to my father. We talk, we laugh. But he hasn't kissed me again or made any indication that he wants to try a relationship with me. I realize that I'm probably not 100% ready to be with someone so soon after Jacob, but it's like he just wants to be my friend and doesn't know how to tell me. I guess he's finally worked up the nerve to have the friends talk with me.

"What is it?" I ask, staring at my hands, which are placed on the table.

He startles me by placing his own hand over mine. His thumb gently rubs over my wrist, leaving tingles on my skin wherever he touches.

"Ever since the trial ended, I've sort of felt like someone's been following me," he starts.

"What?" I cut him off, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I needed you to focus on yourself, to take care of everything going on with you. The last thing I wanted was to distract you from all the progress you've made," he smiles at me, "You didn't need to spend your time worry about my paranoia."

I stare at our hands, the way they look together.

"There's more, Bella," he goes on, "I talked to Chief Swa-your dad about it, I was kind of embarrassed to take it that far. I only did because someone approached Alice while she was at the grocery store. It was one of Jacob's friends, they were waiting for her out in the parking lot by her car."

"Oh god," my hand goes to my mouth, "What happened?"

"She's okay," he reassures me, "But he said to her, 'We're watching your brother.'"

I look at him, his eyes clouded at the thought of Alice being put into that situation.

"I'm so sorry Edward," I put my hand up to his face, "It's my fault, it's all my fault. Is she okay? Oh god, she must hate me."

"Bella, hey," he scoots closer, "She doesn't hate you. I didn't tell you any of this to upset you, I just wanted you to know. I don't want to keep anything from you."

I can't believe this, I can't believe this is happening. Instantly my thoughts go back to that day outside the courtroom, Jacob's friends all standing together, Edward's name on their lips.

"Edward, you don't know what they're capable of," I keep thinking back to all the time I spent with Jacob and his friends. The way they would wrestle around with each other, someone predictably losing his temper and suddenly everything getting out of control.

They are strong and they are scary. The Reservation has its own set of rules, ones that are blurred and usually are bent to fit a certain agenda.

"No one tells them what to do, they grew up doing whatever they wanted," I explain, "They have no sense of right or wrong, just what will best benefit them."

"It's under control, Bella," he places his hands on either side of my shoulders, "Your dad is keeping an eye on things over at the Reservation, everything is going to be okay. They're just a couple of high school guys that are pissed off because of what happened to Jacob. I didn't even want to tell you because I knew you'd get upset, but your dad thought I should."

I feel it instantly, the gnawing feeling that forms in my stomach. The same one that was there everyday I walked out of school, to the parking lot, to Jacob. The feeling that something bad is going to happen very soon.

"What else is my dad doing? Do your parents know?" I run my hand through my hair, nervously pulling at the ends, "Has he talked to Paul and Seth?"

"Hey, hey," he pulls me out of the thoughts flooding my head, his eyes burn into mine, "Everything is going to be alright."

His eyes tell me that he believes the words, he believes that everything will be okay.

I wish I could believe them too.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

"Ugh, Mrs. Woods assigned us this major project and only gave us a week to do it," Alice complains as she sets her books down on the lunch table, "Is it summer break yet?"

I smile at her, still easing into the routine of being back at school. Even though it's been two weeks, I'm still getting stares and hearing whispers from other students. It's like they're examining me, trying to find physical evidence of the abuse, bruises that have long since disappeared.

"I wish," I reply, scooting my tray over to her to offer some of my fries, "I'm tired of all my teachers treating me like I'm going to burst into tears at any second. It's like they're afraid to give me homework because it'll cause me to have some sort of breakdown."

She looks at me thoughtfully, I can almost see an idea forming in her head.

"Lets do something fun this weekend," she claps her hands together, excited.

"Like what?"

"Lets go shopping in Seattle! We can get some summer clothes, you know, freshen up our wardrobes," she's talking a mile a minute, "We can even stop in and visit your friend Rosalie that you're always talking about."

While the idea of shopping holds little appeal, it would be really nice to see Rose. It's been almost a month since I last saw her and there's only so much you can get from phone calls. I miss her. A lot.

"Yeah, okay," I agree, "We can do that."

"Awesome! Okay, we can have a slumber party at my house on Friday night and go up Saturday morning," she begins, rattling off the plan she's formed.

My eyes dart around the cafeteria, looking for Edward. He's usually here by now. I can feel my heart start to speed up, my palms start to sweat. I worry about him, every second of everyday. How odd that my body reacts to seeing him the same way it did Jacob, but for completely different reasons. Edward keeps reassuring me that he's going to be fine, but he doesn't know Jacob like I do. What he's capable of, even from the confines of where he's being kept.

Then I see him, entering the lunchroom from the opposite side. He doesn't see us yet, his eyes looking over the crowds of students. He looks distressed, his eyebrows drawn together, face set in a frown. He sees me then, our eyes connecting across the crowded room; he smiles, but I notice that it is forced. His green eyes don't shine the way they normally do when he looks at me, they're clouded, a storm building underneath.

"Hey," he says, as he approaches the table, setting his belongings down before kissing my cheek, "Sorry I'm late."

"What's wrong?" I ask immediately.

"Nothing, why?" he still has the smile pasted on his face, he thinks he's fooling me.

"Edward, I know something is wrong," I cross my arms over my chest, leaning back in my chair.

"Bella," he sits, scooting his chair towards me, "Nothing is wrong, I just forgot to turn in an assignment and had to run all the way to the other side of campus to turn it in."

He looks me in the eye, reassuring me. What he doesn't realize is that when he thinks I've stopped paying attention, he looks over at Alice. The look that the two exchange is clear as crystal: Edward is lying to me. Something is wrong and he won't tell me what it is.

It's not until I enter my last class of the day that I find out what it is. By then, the rumor is in full motion. According to Jessica Stanley, who heard it from Tyler Crawley, who heard it from Lauren Mallory, Edward's car was vandalized in the school parking lot. The words "You're dead" were spray-painted across the hood of his Volvo. He hadn't told me, probably afraid that I'd overreact. There is no way that I couldn't overreact, though. Edward was in danger because of me, because I'd brought him into this.

I had to fix it.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

"The water is starting to warm up," I remark as our feet dangle over the dock.

"How can you tell?" he asks, splashing the water as he kicks his legs.

"I've spent half my life on this dock, with my feet in this water," I start, "I know it better than I know myself."

He's silent as he takes this in, the fact that I've been at his lake house on his dock for years and years, and we've only barely met.

"My father built this house, you know," he says suddenly, "He built it for my mother. She wanted someplace away from the city, away from all of the noise."

I suddenly remember all of the stories I'd been told about the house, about the man who built it only to never be seen again. It's odd that it is just now occurring to me that the man was Edward's father. It makes perfect sense when I think about it.

"We all came up here the summer it was finished," he continues, "My parents, Carlisle, Esme, Emmett and Alice. My mother was Esme's sister, they were inseparable growing up. It wasn't until my mother married my father that they began to drift apart. My father didn't want her spending all that time with Esme, convinced that it wasn't good for her. So she cut her out, only talking to her around holidays and birthdays. I didn't really know Emmett and Alice until the summer we came here to Forks, when my father had the lake house built. It was the first and only time we ever came here as a family. They both died soon after."

His words hang in the air, the pain lingering long after he speaks. The only noise is that of the water below us, lapping against the wood of the dock.

"Edward," I start, my voice low, "We need to talk about what happened with your car."

He sighs, leaning back on his arms, soaking up the rare rays of sunshine that flow through the clouds. Both of us have been avoiding the topic for days now, neither one of us having the courage to speak about it. To put into words the threat that existed, scared to make it all the more real.

"It's nothing," he finally says.

"It's not nothing, your car was vandalized," I put my hand on this thigh, to emphasize the severity of the situation, "First it was verbal threats, now this. What's next? You can't just sweep this under the rug like it's nothing. I know these guys, Edward. I know what they're capable of. Jacob is like their brother, they're willing to do just about anything to defend his honor. And it's not like there's a lot of policing going on over at the Reservation, they pretty much have free reign to do whatever they want, no questions asked."

He doesn't respond, just continues to take in my words. His face reveals nothing, no fear, no uncertainty.

"You can't just do nothing, it'll only get worse," I'm pleading now.

"Bella," he says, turning towards me, "Nothing is going to happen to me. Your dad is keeping an eye on the Rez guys, my dad amped up the security for the house. Everything that can be done is being done."

"You should have someone with you, like a bodyguard or something," I go on.

He laughs, "I think that'd be a tad on the dramatic side."

He's blowing it off like it's nothing, like we are completely safe. He's never seen that look in Jacob's eyes, the one he would get right before his fist would come at me. He doesn't know what it's like to have that look directed at you.

"Your parents, Edward," I say hesitantly, not wanting overstep my bounds, but needing to make my point, "You know what people are capable of."

His jaw clenches at the mention of his parents and for a second, I'm afraid I've gone too far. Instead of yelling, instead of fists and hurt and pain, he just turns towards me and puts his hands on either side of my face.

"I know," he says gently, "Trust me, I know. My father was different though, he was a man with very deep seeded issues. He had years and years of anger built up. These are just boys, angry boys who will be mad for a while and then they'll move on."

I want to believe him, I want to trust what he's saying and relax. But I can't.

"Promise me you'll take extra precautions," my voice quivers with emotion, "I know things between us have always been weird and complicated, but I can't lose you. Not when I finally am here with you, on this dock, at this house. It took me forever to get here."

He smiles at me, that side smirk that I know drives all the girls at school absolutely insane.

"I promise, I will be careful," he leans over and kisses my temple, "For you, I will be careful."

Three weeks pass with nothing. No more threats, no more vandalism. Edward and I begin to settle into our relationship, school goes back to its boring monotony. I begin to feel safe.

And that's when it happens.

"Mom, have you seen my brown flats?" I yell down the hallway from my room.

"What?" she yells back from downstairs.

"My brown flats, the ones with the buckle on them," I lean out my door so she can hear me better.

"They're down here by the front door," she replies, sounding closer to the stairwell.

I give myself one more glance in the mirror, making sure everything is in place. Edward refuses to tell me where we're going, so I can only hope that what I'm wearing is appropriate. I guess you really can't go wrong with a skirt and a blouse.

This past month with Edward has been absolutely wonderful. I've never felt like this before, so secure and safe in a relationship. I didn't know it was possible to have that with a person and not have the crippling fear that accompanied my relationship with Jacob. Edward is everything I never knew I wanted: he's smart and kind and gentle. I realized very quickly that the Edward I knew at the beginning, the seemingly egotistical asshole, was just a front he put up to keep people out. A mask he wore to shield himself from getting too close to someone, from feeling too much.

"Edward's here," mom says, looking through the curtains of the front window, "And he brought flowers."

I smile to myself, slipping my shoes on. I open the door, instantly feeling the warm breeze that Spring brings. My smile gets bigger as I watch Edward shut his door, making his way around the car, flowers in hand. He sees me, our eyes connecting, his own face lighting up in a grin.

And then I hear the gunshot.

One more chapter and then the epilogue. Thank you for your reviews, I hope that you all aren't going to hate me after this one.