Hello again! Thanks for the reviews! I'm glad you like Roughneck already.

I will give you a few warnings. This story is tagged angst and some of it happened in the past of Edward's life which you'll get glimpses of. It might be violent and there are some references of God and politics. I'm not trying to push my beliefs on anybody; it's just the characters talking. The whole story is based on my hometown and things I've heard said around here.

Anywho, I hope you like the first chapter.

Thank you to SunflowerFran3759 for her beta skills. Any mistakes are mine for deciding to add at the last minute!

Chapter 1- Different

"Son of a flyin' bitch!" Mike shouts for what seems like the hundredth time today.

I chuckle as I wipe the sweat from my forehead with the back of my hand. I walk over to the poor fool and show him how to close the pipe good and proper. It's been a long and hard day, but I ain't about to leave this poor hick on his own again. The last time we did, he almost started a fire. Luckily he only got black oil all over Garrett's truck and he had to buy everyone beers.

He hangs his head down as I tell him that I'll help him. He's about to walk away and leave me to do his job, but I grab his tattooed arm and pull him back. He's young and not very smart. He barely finished high school and already has a baby on the way. Yup, stupid I tell ya'.

He quit smokin' pot and got a real man's job, like he calls it. His stupidity reminds me of my younger self. Maybe that's why I have the patience nobody else seems to have for him.

"You ain't never gonna learn if you don't pay attention, Mike," I tell him. He scratches his stubbly chin and huffs. "You see this handle here? You gotta pull it. Hard."

"Yeah, like your small cock, you son of a bitch!" Emmett McCarty shouts, making the rest of the men crack with laughter. He don't mean no harm. He's a nice guy but a big, and I do mean big, goof.

I do feel bad for the poor kid. Emmett has been on his case all day. Mike is really bad at this job and he does try, but Emmett is funny as fuck, so I try to hide my own chuckle behind my oil stained fist.

"You're too nice, Mase," Garrett says as we jump in his pickup truck to head back to the big rig location.

"I just remember being the new kid, is all. It ain't fun."

Emmett cracks laughing again. The big asshole is always laughing. "Mase, Mike's been workin' here longer than you have," he says, before spitting out his window.

"It don't matter. He's just a kid. He'll learn."

Eleazar Gonzalez, or Eli, as everyone calls him, jumps in the backseat with me. We begin to journey through the flat, brown, dessert land of West Texas.

"You gringos are fucked up," he laughs. "The only guero I'm buying a beer for tonight is Edward here, in honor of his heroism." Eli pats my shoulder, places a baseball cap over his black hair, and fixes the rosary beads around his neck. They're covered in oil now, but he'll spend a few minutes cleaning them before heading back home.

He's a good man. He has two kids and a wife he works for. He's admitted he really doesn't spend much on himself and that's what a real man does. The guys like to give him a hard time because he has a thick accent and sometimes he'll say things we can't understand. He grew up in Mexico, but learned English, and works his ass off for his family. I respect him for that. Must be tough working in a strange land and away from home.

He's brave.

"Whatever, Eli. You better not invite James. He's a fuckin' asshole. Mase, you're comin' tonight, aren't ya?" Emmett asks.

I take a deep breath of annoyance as I stare out my window, watchin' as we drive by the dry and dead land I've now called home for the past eight months. There ain't nothin' green about this town except for the money. We've been working for a few days out in the middle of nowhere, looking for the black gold that helps us get paid good money and helps this town stay alive.

Odessa, Texas is the city with the best economy in the country right now. But you have to be ready to break your back, put up with the daily, hundred and hell degree weather, and not have much free time. And it's not like you would do anything with that time anyway. There ain't much to do around here. There's nothing to see either. There ain't no trees or even plants. Everything is dry and dead. It hasn't rained in months. We see a whole lot of nothin' as we drive around every day.

"I told you already, I ain't planning on drinking anytime soon," I tell him. He's been begging me to go with him and the boys to a bar his wife manages. He swears it'll be a lot of fun.

I know it would be, especially with that crazy fucker and the drinks his wife, Rose makes. But I ain't up for that type of fun anymore.

"You're a pussy. A big, floppy and wrinkled pussy," he accuses as he puts his trucker hat on.

"Fuck you," I mutter.

"It just means more booze for us!" Garrett hollers, as we finally arrive to our main location.

I just wanna get to my shitty apartment, take a shower to scrub all this oil off my skin and land in bed. I worked 14 hours yesterday and got up at four in the morning today. I think I deserve to sleep.

I walk into the main office, punch my timecard, say my awkward hello to Angela, and then a swift goodbye. I think she likes me. She flutters her eyelashes at me and tries to make small talk. She's not very good at flirting and I ain't either, so I end up saying something dumb and walking away.

I used to be good at it.

I used to be able to talk women into anything I wanted. It was easy, fun and what man doesn't want a willing mouth? I sure as hell pissed off a whole lotta ladies when I got what I wanted and left.

All I'm sayin' is that Angela is a nice girl. I'm done fuckin' nice people over.

I didn't move to this town to continue down the path I've been tumbling through for 27 years. I came here with my mind set on a goal; to get out of the shit hole I've made of my life.

As I head over to my broken down, green, Chevy truck, I see my boss, Carlisle Cullen talking to Emmett and Jasper.

Jasper is the team lead. He's some young, hotshot with loads of money. He's a cool guy if you don't piss him off. The rest of the guys complain that he don't do much, but ain't that why he's the lead? I just stay out of his way and do my job.

"Hey, Edward," Carlisle calls me over. He smiles as he waves me on.

I try to straighten up as I reach him. I pull my sleeves down to cover my inked arms and prepare myself to talk like a fucken' professional and not like a damn redneck with no education.

"Hello, Mr. Cullen," I say.

He chuckles. "It's Carlisle, Edward. Jasper and Emmett were just telling me how great you've been doing lately. I must say I'm not surprised. I'm the one who hired you," he jokes with loud laughter. "In all honesty, you're a hard working man and that's greatly appreciated. Keep this up, Edward, and soon enough you'll be walking around giving orders. I'm proud of you, son."

He pats my shoulder and I try really hard not to smile like a pussy. I really look up to this man. He's the co-owner of the company, Charles Swan being the other owner. Carlisle is a great boss and a great man. He's known around the oilfield and town as a great person. He's donated a lotta money to charity and is known to be really kind to his employees, especially when it comes to holiday bonuses.

"I'll be off in two weeks," he says. "I'll be off for a few days so Ben and Jasper will be in charge. If they need more assistance, they'll have you as help."

"Yes, sir. That's not a problem. Thank you for trusting me," I answer him.

"Thanks, Edward. My son Peter is getting married to his high school sweetheart. I'll be having fun at the big party; especially knowing you guys got it handled here."

"Congratulations to your son."

~RN~

Damn traffic in this town is out of control. We're over populated so there is always an accident or a traffic jam on the interstate during rush hour. I ain't the only one that found out about the oilfield boom. There's a shitload of people from around Texas and even from out of state that have moved here for a job.

Having so many able bodied men means more competition for management positions. That's why I'm working my ass off. I'm gonna get out of working in the sun one day and gonna get more money. I'll buy myself a little house and maybe even find myself a wife.

I laugh as I make it into the south side of Odessa. The idea that I'll have a sweet girl with my last name is insane. But I'm gettin' old and I am gettin' myself situated, so maybe it ain't that crazy.

Besides, being lonesome every night stopped being a party a long time ago. Since I don't go out and get in trouble anymore, I find myself alone in my small apartment, thinkin' things I shouldn't think.

I also start remembering the past. In my case that ain't a good idea.

I stop by some small burrito and taco place and get myself dinner. I'm always the random gringo in this side of town, but once they see I ain't a racist hick, they're extra friendly to me.

I finally make it to my apartment complex. It's the cheapest rent I could find, but just as it's cheap it's dangerous. There are a lot of criminals and low lives living here. Just the other day, some crazy asshole stabbed his wife and kid. I avoid looking at anybody in the face. Just like there are friendly people that understand that I'm a friendly redneck, there also people that don't believe that and hate me.

I shower, scrubbing the black oil stains off my skin. The shit is tough to come off, so I end up with red marks from my small wash towel. I throw on a white, wife beater, ignoring the angry scars on my back. If I look at em,' it'll just piss me off again.

I'm tired of being mad.

I move my fingers through my messy, copper-colored hair and decide against shaving.

"How's everything goin'? Have you met a nice girl, Son?" Momma asks. She calls me every night to check on me. We don't have much to talk about. We've never had. But she's my momma so five minutes of awkward questions and muttering is okay.

"Everything is going good. My boss says I might be a lead one day if I keep workin' hard."

"That's nice, Son."

"It is."

"Your father asked about you today."

I don't say anything for a few long seconds. I exhale my breath, and hope that with it goes my anger.

"Have you talked to Aunt Bonnie lately?"

She sighs. She knows I'm changing the subject. "She's doing better, but the cancer is an evil demon."

"Will you tell her that I love her and I'm sorry I couldn't make it to her party?"

"Of course, honey."

"I'm gonna eat my dinner now, Ma. You have a good night."

"You should really find a nice girl to make you good meals every day. You shouldn't be lonely anymore, Son. You're a great man and deserve happiness."

"Yes, Ma."

"Goodnight, Son."

Twenty minutes later, I've swallowed my burritos and I'm now watching bad TV while resting on my bed. I ignore the police sirens outside my window and the shouting coming from the hall. I get annoyed with the leaky sink in the kitchen. I haven't had time to fix it. It don't let me sleep. In this small apartment, the kitchen is right next to my room and the cheap, thin walls don't offer a whole lot of insulation from the noise. I can hear a baby crying and another set of shouting.

I huff and turn my TV off as the noise around me continues. The sun is long gone, and to save money, I just have the small bedside lamp lighting the room.

I start thinking about how alone I am and how much it digs into my bones sometimes. Just like a cold winter night, it shakes me in my boots and makes it hard to breathe.

I used to make the devil's water my medicine, but that never helped me like I thought it did. Everyone I knew that wanted to stick around, ended up running away from me in the end. I don't blame em' at all. I would wake up drunk as a mule and wouldn't recognize the blood shot eyes glaring back at me in the mirror. I swear I wasn't that crazed and mad man. At least I didn't look like him.

Dr. Leo, from the Houston Prison, told me I was suffering from depression.

I called him a crazy fucker before I left that place.

It wasn't until I almost died from a knife fight that I fell to my knees and prayed to the Lord for forgiveness. I knew, sooner or later, I was gonna be found soulless and maybe even dead in the dark. God was gonna cut me off and I would fall into the devil's burnin' hands.

I ain't a saint now, but I'm a good man. That's what I wanna be. I got a lotta work ahead, but that's what life is, I guess. My hands and soul are gonna be covered in ugly calluses, but I ain't giving up. I've changed my ways and I ain't never gonna go back to that man that I used to be.

I ain't gonna be mad no more.

At least I hope so.

"Nobody's gonna want your stupid self. You're useless!"

"Mr. Masen, please."

"Shut up, woman! I'm talkin' to my son!"

"But…"

He raises his hand at her and she quickly shuts up. She gives me a pitiful look before turnin' around and leaving the room.

He slaps my face with all his might and I swear I can see small lights behind my eyelids. I got a headache now. I slowly rise to my hands and knees, hopin' he's done.

"Go to your room and pray for forgiveness. I want you on your knees and talking to the Lord all afternoon and maybe you can have supper. You gotta learn how to use that damn brain of yours, boy!"

I get another slap and a boot kick to my side before I end up quietly sobbing in my room. I hold my hands so tightly together that it hurts. But I'm praying so hard for Him to take me and I'm hopin' He finally listens to me.

"Mase, you gotta come down to the bar! A bunch of the boys are here and havin' fun. You just gotta ignore James. You're missin' out, pussy!"

I sigh into my cell phone. I gotta hand it to Emmett, he ain't a quitter.

"I ain't drinkin,"

"That's fine! We got milk too!"

"Fuck you!"

"Hey, baby," I hear him say.

"What in the actual fuck?"

He laughs. "I'm talkin' to my woman, you fucker…yes, Rose baby. Yeah, you wear them jean shorts… your ass looks…"

I groan in frustration.

"Alright, let me be, woman. Gotta handle business here with Edward Masen."

"I can't believe I call you a friend," I mutter.

"Come on! Put on your cowboy boots and cowboy hat and get your white trash ass down here. I bet you're being emo and shit right now."

"Fine. I'll be there in twenty minutes."

"Fuck yeah!"

"But I ain't drinking!"

~RN~

BPOV

"I just want it to be elegant and for everyone to see you in that beautiful white dress and be envious, Bella," Mother says.

I smile as we look at bedspreads together. She's always wanted people to be envious of what we have. It doesn't matter what it is, the Swans have to be the most expensive and most elegant bunch.

"I know, Mom. I want everyone to have a good time, but I also want to enjoy that moment with Peter. I'm only getting married once."

"As God wants it to be. I can't believe you're marrying Pete. He's such a catch. His family has good money and a good name."

"That's not why I'm marrying him. I love him, Mom," I mutter as we move to the pillow section.

"Oh, I know, baby. I'm just pointing out the bonuses."

"Of course you are," I chuckle.

"Oh, dear look at these!"

"A grand for a bed set?"

"That isn't much, honey. Look at the elegance of the bed sheets!"

"I'm sure Peter doesn't care about that."

"He sure does. He's a Cullen. They always have the best of the best."

We continue looking, but I'm sure she'll convince me that the expensive bed sheets are the way to go. I smile as I read a text message from Pete. He's silly. He sends me a number every day, counting down the days until I take his name and love in front of God.

"I was thinking about going back to school after the honeymoon, Mom."

"What? What for, Bella?"

"I like it," I tell her. "I really want to be a teacher. I love kids."

"Well have kids! You would be wasting your time. Teaching pays close to nothing. Peter has plenty of money to support you with."

"But I don't just want to stay home."

"We can go shopping and have lunch every day. You can also visit Tanya and Lauren. You girls could probably shop in Lubbock or Midland. You're going to have a good life."

I roll my eyes at my mother's idea of life.

"Have you asked Peter about it?"

"I wasn't aware I had to ask him. I was going to tell him."

"Honey, you're getting married. Everything has to be a question now. Imagine me telling Charlie I'm going to school without his permission!" She laughs.

"Do you know what ridiculous thing your father asked me today?"

"What?"

"He asked if you were going to invite that crazy liberal Alice Brandon!"

"Um…"

"Oh, baby, don't tell me you invited that abortion supporter? You know how I feel about her. She's a crazy feminist and I think she's a lesbian."

I laugh at my mother's words. "Mother! She's not a lesbian! She's been nice to me and when she asked when my wedding was I couldn't help it and I invited her."

Alice Brandon was a left wing political nutcase to my mother and father, but she had been nice and welcoming when I started going to college. I wouldn't have survived biology if it weren't for her. We're very different. She doesn't believe in religion and supports things like equal marriage rights for gays and higher taxes to the wealthy. She's everything my family stands against. But there's just something about her that I really like and connect to. We don't talk much, but when we do, it's as if we've never stopped the communication, and can talk for hours about random educated stuff. But yeah, we hardly speak to each other.

Like I said, we're very different, she and I.

"Well I hope she don't spoil anything."

"She won't."

"I talked to Lauren today,"

"Oh yeah?"

"She said you should have waited until next year when you're 21 to have a real bachelorette party. I told her you're smart by hurrying this up before Pete changes his mind."

I roll my eyes again.

"Besides, you can drink wine. I won't tell."

~RN~

Growing up as Isabella Swan, I've never needed anything. I've been spoiled since birth and of that I am sure of. I'm the only child of the wealthy Charles and Renee Swan.

My father owns a big oil company in Odessa and several smaller ones around West Texas and my mother loves to show off his wealth. I always had the best clothes and cars in school. I always get what I want. She makes sure I only dress in the best and have my hair cut by a top professional.

My father, Charlie, doesn't hesitate to spoil me either. I must say I'm a daddy's little girl. I love spending time with him when he has it. He's mostly busy with his work.

Given my wealth and great parents, it's obvious that I should be incredibly happy.

I am, though recently I've been feeling strange. I've been feeling confused and maybe a little frustrated. Maybe I'm just waiting for my wedding. The anxiety might be making me think out of the ordinary. I can't wait to become Mrs. Peter Cullen and move out from my parents' home, though I'm sure I'll miss them.

~RN~

"I can't believe you're making me drive you to that nasty oil company," Lauren huffs as we drive down the interstate in her SUV.

"It's my daddy's birthday. I want to surprise him. You would do the same for your daddy." I argue.

"But just think of all those damn rednecks and Mexicans that work for him staring at us like we're something to eat. They're pigs."

I giggle. "They are pretty disgusting."

"And dirty."

"And ignorant."

"You better hurry and give him his gift. I get grossed out the more I think about those horn dogs."

"I'll do my best," I say with a chuckle.

"Why can't they all be like your Peter and my Tyler? Smart, rich and charming…"

"Oh, lord, just park already."

As I walk to Charlie's office with his gift in hand, I hear whistling and men calling me "doll face" and "baby." They are truly disgusting.

I walk to the front desk and find Angela on her cell phone talking out loud with whom I think is her boyfriend. She's always been the trashy type. I used to tease her a lot in school. She hates me, but my daddy is her boss so she sucks it up.

Like she should.

"Where's my dad?" I ask without saying hello.

She sighs and says he's in a meeting.

"I'll wait here, but can you tell him his daughter is here and that it's imperative that I talk to him?"

She rolls her eyes and walks off.

I stand around waiting for Charlie. I stare out the window of the office as some men arrive and jump off of a pickup truck. There's Garrett, who I used to think was cute in high school. He was funny and charming, but he had no money. What a loser he turned out to be working for my dad as a roughneck.

I see a few familiar faces. I don't know their names and don't care much to learn them. I've just seen them at company parties and BBQs. I don't last very long at those things as they are a bore. I don't know why Dad spends so much money on these losers. He already pays them well. It's one of the highest paying oilfield companies in this town.

My eyes wander around but suddenly stop as they catch a new face.

He's a fit looking man. He looks young. His messy and dirty copper-colored hair stands out in contrast to his sweaty and dirty white t-shirt. It's somewhat stuck to his body, letting me see more of him. I can see the outline of his hard chest and broad shoulders. As he pulls tools and boxes out the truck, I swallow at how his biceps flex.

One of the bigger guys says something and Copper Head laughs, making his Adam's apple bob. My eyes trace his jaw line covered in two days worth of stubble and wander up to his green eyes that shine from his oil stained face. His nose looks like it's been broken before, but somehow that makes him look more masculine and…attractive.

His worn out jeans and dirty boots snap me out of my daze.

Jesus! Was I checking him out?

I cover my face with my hands and being to giggle, feeling ridiculous. Then I feel guilty. I love Peter and it's not right that I did that.

I shake my head and head over to Charlie, leaving my stupid and indecent thoughts of that dirty roughneck behind.

~RN~

"I just can't believe that fool is our president!" Charlie complains, as he pushes more mashed potatoes into his mouth. "It's like he could give two rats asses about our needs. He worries more about these blacks,,, and white trash on welfare that should get a damn job. Not to mention these wetbacks that come into our country illegally! We, the people that actually work should get more consideration and representation."

I sigh and turn to Peter who knows I hate when Daddy talks about politics. He smiles down at me and I swear his blue eyes shine when he looks at me. I think I'm a silly girl, but who gives a damn. I'm in love. He squeezes my hand that rests on the dinner table and goes back to eating his steak.

We are having dinner at the Cullens for Dad's birthday. Esme, Peter's mother, is an expert at cooking Texas famed steaks; Charlie's favorite. My parents and Peter's parents have been friends since they were in high school together. They had a boy and my parents had a girl.

It made perfect sense the friendship would continue with Peter and me.

"And he supports abortion!" My mother adds to the discussion.

I roll my eyes. She's obsessed with the subject.

"He wants to kill babies and support homosexuals. All sins in God's eye!" She takes a deep breath to control herself and continues to cut into her steak.

"Can we not talk about at this at your birthday dinner, Daddy?" I ask.

Peter chuckles. "Darling, your father needs to vent."

"Well can we vent later?"

"Baby, let me talk to Carlisle here. He's convinced that the Democrat we have in office can actually do some good, and I need to talk some sense into him before he turns into a liberal," Charlie says, and Carlisle laughs.

"I'm no liberal, Charlie." Carlisle continues, to my dismay. "I just think maybe we should unite rather than fight. But let's change the subject like Bella suggested. I wanted to tell you, Charlie, that I found a great replacement for when Billy finally decides to retire."

"Yeah?"

"Edward Masen. He's a great man and a hard worker. We need someone responsible."

"Hmm, we shall see. I don't like giving new guys quick chances, but we'll see."

"He's great. You'll like him. I also wanted to announce that Pete ,,,, here, is almost done with his degree," Carlisle says proudly.

"He's our pride and joy," Esme adds.

"That's so great, baby," I whisper, and give him a quick peck on the check. I'm really proud of him. He's working really hard to get his Business Degree.

He thanks his father and runs a hand through his blonde hair. He always does this when he's nervous or embarrassed. He's never liked praise.

"Would ya'll believe that Bella told me today that she wanted to go back to school?" Renee laughs.

I can feel how quickly my cheeks turn hot and red. I really wish I hadn't mentioned it to her.

"Bells, why didn't you tell me you were thinking about going back to school?" Peter asks with concern and confusion in his face.

Full of embarrassment, I shake my head to dismiss what once sounded like a good idea to me. I realize it only sounded like a good idea to me when I am alone.

"It was just a thought. I didn't mean it," I mumble. "I mean I'm only twenty and it doesn't have to be any time soon. I was just thinking out loud. Nothing serious, I promise."

He looks pleased with my answer and somehow I don't like that.

~RN~

Peter looks pensive as he drives me home. Mom and Dad are already ahead of us and I've lost sight of their car. Peter wanted to "talk" so he offered to drive me so we could do the "talking."

"Do you really want to return to school? I thought you wanted to take some time off?" Peter asks.

"I kinda do want to go back."

He stays quiet for a few minutes. It's dark outside and the only light is coming from the electronics inside his car and the passing headlights.

"Why are you mad at that idea?" I ask him.

He sighs and pulls at his blue tie. "Of course I'm not mad, honey. I love that you want to continue school. You know I support your decision in becoming a teacher. I just thought we wanted to get started on our marriage," he says.

"What? We are getting started. We're getting married in two weeks."

"I meant family. You know how much I want babies. I want a son."

I giggle. "You're talking as if we're in the 1800s and I need to pop babies out as soon as possible before I get a disease and die."

He chuckles.

"If we have kids now, I'll have to stay home with them until they are old enough to have a babysitter or older. And by the time I get started up again with school I'll be in my late twenties, almost thirties."

"I'm just saying that I'd prefer to have kids now before I'm too old to play with them."

"You're only 23!"

He stays silent again as we reach a red light.

"Look, I love you Bella," he says, and reaches over to kiss me on the lips. "I want you to be happy and do whatever it is you want to do. But just think about it a little longer. Maybe you can see the benefits in having our kiddos sooner rather than later."

I sigh and give him another kiss. "I'll think about it. I promise."

He grins at his small victory.

I pinch his cheek making him laugh. "I love you too, Pete. I can't wait to spend my life with you."

He grins and he is about to reach over for another kiss when the light turns green. He lets go of me and turns back to the road ahead. I feel as the car start to accelerate.

Suddenly I hear a loud screeching noise coming from his direction. Before I can look or analyze what's going on, the car is violently jerked to the right by a quick and loud bang.

I don't think I'm breathing or thinking.

Everything is happening so fast.

The seat belt starts digging into my neck and it seems gravity is no longer a friend. Everything is spinning. I try to scream as I realize the car is flipping over but I can't make any sounds.

Everything turns black.

There is throbbing and unbearable pain in my left leg and in my head. I can smell the blood. I can also feel it running down my face. There is a heavy pressure on my neck. It feels strained and it hurts like hell.

My eyes are closed and the eerie silence that is now around me makes me stir. I'm fighting to open my eyes, but the pain is too much. I moan, hoping someone will hear my sounds of desperation and help me. I begin to cry and fight my eyes to open.

Peter.

Suddenly I can hear the sounds of the world again. The car's alarm is hollering and I can finally hear myself cry.

I snap my eyes open and it takes them a few minutes to adjust and take in what just happened and where I am.

I begin to panic as I realize that the car is flipped over and the seat belt is cutting into my skin as it holds me from falling head first.

I cough, choking on the blood that is coming from an unknown part of my body and into my nose and mouth.

I turn to check on Peter.

His eyes are tightly closed. He doesn't seem to be breathing. His face is covered in blood.

"Peter!" I manage to gurgle out, with my voice full of panic and fear. "Wake up!"

I plead to him, but he doesn't even move.

I realize I have to save us both. I can smell the awful gasoline.

I struggle and cry in agony as I pull every torn muscle and broken bone to reach the release of my seat belt. When I finally press the button, I cry as I fall head first onto the roof of the car that is now where I lie.

There is glass everywhere. In my hair and in my skin. I screech as I can feel it piercing into my skin as I try to crawl out of the car. My neck aches in pain as it holds my body's weight.

My passenger window is cracked, a fist away from completely shattering open. I hold my breath and punch it weakly. I wail as the pain shoots from my wrist up my arm.

I being to crawl out, dragging my broken body over the glass and wrecked car parts. When I finally make it out of the car, the cool air of the night hits me. I begin to choke on blood and try to drag myself back to reach for Peter.

I don't know how I'll do it, but I have to save him.

"Pete!" I shout again.

He's still not awake.

I can hear the sirens from afar and the crippling panic sets in to get Peter out of the car. I can't move, so I continue shouting. I notice his side of the car is crushed into him. I can't see his left leg and his chest isn't rising or falling.

"Pete," I cry. My voice breaking at the sound of his name. "Pete, please wake up! Don't leave me!"

I continue shouting until suddenly the blue and red rescue lights are illuminating his bloody and lifeless face, but they do nothing to stop the blackness that is taking over me.

And suddenly, there's nothing but the sounds of shouting men asking me if I'm alive, and the rusty taste of blood in my mouth.

There is this agony I feel from my wounds, but also from what I know is true of the man I love.

What ya think?

Love Mase/RoughneckWard? Let me know!

This will probably be the longest chapter for a while. Next chapter is already done, just needs some reviewing.

Follow me at HelloElla90