Chapter 4: Hell Hath No Fury
Disclaimer: S. Meyer is the rightful owner of Twilight.
This is for Sabrina. I updated earlier than usual just for you.
"Bang, bang, bang!" The loud thumping on the front door was practically shaking the whole damn house. "Bang, bang, Bang!"
I had fallen asleep on my crappy old couch, watching a Jackie Chan marathon on TV. I was startled awake by the insistent hammering. It was eleven PM, for cryin' out loud. What moron would be pounding on my door at this hour?
"Bang, bang, bang!" The sound was annoying me to no end. "Jeez, keep your shirt on! I'm coming already."
You'd think that once in a blue moon, I would get a full eight hours of sleep without any interruptions. But, no, that just wasn't in the cards for poor ol' Jacob Black. It was my unfortunate lot to be sleep deprived—forever, it seemed. I guess I'd have to wait 'til I was dead. Damn, now there's a pleasant thought.
Yanking open the door, Bella spilled into the room—right into my arms. I barely caught her before she face-planted onto the wood floor. All the groggy vestiges of sleep left my eyes which were now opened in shock. What the hell was she doin' here, and at practically midnight too? I tried to make light of it.
"I knew you'd finally come to your senses," I laughed.
"Let go of me, you idiot! What have you got to say for yourself?"
What . . .Uh-oh, I guess Charlie must have told her about our little conversation.
Bella began slapping my arms away like a furious humming bird. I dropped my arms quickly in utter defeat. Whew—she was mad all right—in fact, I'd never seen her this mad before.
Fuming, she hissed, "Do you know how much trouble you caused me?"
Her tiny arms pushed against my chest moving us through the doorway further into the house.
"Bells, I—"
"What do you mean by talking to my dad—my DAD, Jake!"
My head snapped backward with each shove, and she kept right on shoving me with every accusation she made. I was amazed at the strength in those little arms. She must've had a whopping dose of adrenaline rushing through her veins.
"How do you think I felt when Charlie gave me the lecture about the male sex, and their ever-ready organs, and what turns them on?"
"I—"
Bella poked her index finger into my shoulder while her other hand pushed me backward again. "Who do you think you are—my guardian angel?"
"What gives you the right to go protecting my virtue, huh?"
She was still in my face, lashing out at me with her fiery dragon's tongue. "Don't you think I can do that on my own? And even so, I have a mother and a father you know—that's their job. I don't need you butting in."
"Let me—"
She'd pushed me into the kitchen and I was now flattened against the far wall.
"Bells—" I started to explain.
"Don't you Bells, me!" Her chocolate eyes were ablaze with anger.
"I—"
"I don't want to listen to any of your lame excuses."
"But—"
As I was slammed flat against the wall, yeah, again—for the last time, I hoped—my head hit the sheetrock with a loud thud. I put my hand up to the back of my head. "Ow—stop it, will you? You're gonna wake up my dad. Shh . . ."
"Don't you be shushing me."
Jeez, I could barely get a word in edgewise, and everyone knew what a talker I was. I couldn't take it anymore, either. So, I did what any other red-blooded male would do—I cupped the back of her head, covering her accusing mouth with my own. That shut her up—for a few seconds anyway.
She tore away from my frontal attack and continued her tirade. "Jacob Black—if you think for one minute that your irresistible charms are going to make me forget what happened, you are sorely mistak—"
I reached my hand out bringing her face closer to me. My lips crashed down on hers once again engaging them in mortal combat. She struggled, trying to break free, but being a big guy, her struggle was useless. Besides, her adrenaline was rapidly petering out.
I spun her about, trading places, so that she now had her back to the wall. My arms were a steel trap clenched around her; there was nowhere for her to go, ha! She was right where I wanted her, and I wasn't about to let her escape.
I put everything I had into that silencer and didn't let her come up for air 'til I sensed her body relax. Actually, relax isn't the right word—it was more like—surrender? She curved into me; her body conforming to mine. A kitten—that's what she reminded me of—so soft, so small, yet so ready to pounce on me, unaware. I was a ball of yarn that she was always toying with. Didn't she realize that someday she might get tangled up in that yarn? And it looked like this might've been that day. Swee-eet!
Lifting her up toward my shoulders, I slipped my arm beneath her rear end and hoisted her up and over to the kitchen counter. I plunked her down, still holding onto her with all my might. It wasn't necessary, I guess, 'cuz she was stuck to me like a piece of Velcro. And all that time—I hate to brag—but I never once broke the kiss. No small feat even if I do say so myself.
Bella was yanking on my tee shirt, inching me closer, her fist wrapped tightly around the collar. I would have protested if I wasn't lovin' every freakin' minute of it. I couldn't make out why, but all of a sudden, her mood switched again. Bella loosened her grip on my shirt and leaned away from me.
Well, it was good while it lasted. "Damn, Bells, you are so hot when you're angry." Well, I couldn't resist saying that. It was the honest truth.
Her dark eyes flashed me a warning. "That's enough. Get me off of this counter—right this minute!"
Confused much? My hands were encircling her waist in an instant, and before you could count to three, she was standing on the floor. Her hands went to her hips, while she gazed up into my face. Now what?
Bella's lips were contorted into an ugly glower. One hand shot out, slapping my upper arm as hard as she could. She practically growled, "I hate you, Jacob Black!"
Finally, something I could understand at least. "There's a passionate emotion for you," I threw back at her—"closely related to love I would say."
Her head shook in fury. I was surprised that I didn't hear her teeth rattle. "Ugh! You make me so crazy sometimes. I could just beat the crap out of you."
"Yeah? You and who else?" I smirked at her. And then, she did the unexpected—the thing that turned my insides to mush—she burst into tears. Why in the holy hell did she do that?
Instinctively, I went to hold her. She put up her hands to stop me in my tracks.
"Don't touch me, you smug werewolf, you," she whimpered, between sniffles. "You always do this to me."
"Do what?" Damn, this conversation was going nowhere. I felt like I was skating on ree-aaly thin ice. "Talk to me, Bells—what am I doing to you?"
"Oh, sure, like you don't have the teensiest clue." Another sniffle sounded.
Her sad little face was ripping my heart to pieces. I walked cautiously toward her with my arms stretched out, inviting her into them. "C'mere, honey," I whispered. "I'm sorry, I was just trying to protect you from hormone driven jerks like me."
She backed up, wailing, "Jake . . . Jake . . ." She turned and rushed out the door, still crying.
I stood in the doorway, idiot that I was, wondering what the hell just happened. It was useless to run after her; so I just stared with my mouth open as her truck roared down the road.
Great—and I was sleeping so good too . . .
Bella cried all the way home, but she couldn't understand why. Jacob was her best friend, and now there was all this confusion in her brain. She loved Edward, didn't she? Could someone love two people at the same time? Maybe Jacob was right, anger was close to love. But he was so infuriating; she just wanted to slap his face off. Why was she kissing him then?
She had to admit, it was pretty darned distracting to say the least. She could finally compare the two. Edward was so reticent—he always held back—not Jacob. He was a force to be reckoned with. He let it all out, and it spoke volumes. He was in love with her, and she knew it; but was her love for him enough?
She couldn't believe his audacity in talking to Charlie though. He even had the guts to give out intimate details of his own anatomy for Pete's sake!
By the time she got home, Bella had cooled off some, and her thinking became clearer. She hadn't realized what that stupid little bikini had done to Jacob. When she really thought about it, she was being unknowingly cruel even. It was worse than the frustration she felt when Edward stopped her advances. When the shoe was on the other foot, it sort of pinched a little.
Now she started to feel guilty, like maybe she should go apologize to him. He spent $74 on that little piece of spandex that she so hastily chucked into her drawer. She didn't even have the decency to thank him. No, she just lit into him for embarrassing her in front of Charlie. He certainly didn't have money to throw away, not like Edward. That was a big sacrifice on his part, a widow's mite, if you will. His car was always in need of parts—always.
Oh, god, she had erroneously accused him of entertaining another girl at his home too. How he must have felt! Good grief, was that jealousy? Was she actually jealous? Just the idea of another girl with her Jacob . . . holy crow—HER Jacob?
Finally, Bella had put a label on it. She was feeling jealous, and he was her Jacob. Now, the trouble was—what the heck was she going to do about it?
A/N: Wow! This was a lot of fun to write. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I loved writing it. Please review for me.
For Sabrina: If you want to see Jake get the girl, then you're in luck. Most of my stories end that way. Start with A Change of Heart. All of my one shots, except for Breaking Point and A Quiet Awakening make Jacob the victor.