Chapter 10: Clash of the Titans

Disclaimer: S. Meyer owns Twilight. Okay, NikkiB, this one's for you.

Damn, he was fast, but there was no way he was gonna sink his choppers into me. I twisted away from his freakin' fangs, sinking my own teeth into his arm and dragging him down the gravel drive. He rolled away from me tearing his stony flesh from my grasp, and gaining his footing again, flung me against a tree. My head hit the trunk, shaking needles from the branches. The frightened birds went scurrying. It was pure luck that the spruce wasn't upended. I rebounded pinning him to the ground. I should have torn his head off right then and there, but Bella would never have forgiven me. That, and I would have had all the Cullens on my tail for the rest of my life. We moved our immortal combat rapidly to the backyard, away from any innocent bystanders.

The speed of the tumbling grapplers was only surpassed by the tumult that permeated the afternoon air. The white streaks of lightning mixed with the flying russet of wolf fur whirled by at a dizzying pace like a tornado. The chaos that was the two battling Romeos thankfully touched down behind the house, where the neighbors couldn't see who or what the commotion was about. Bella was beside herself, shrieking in horror.

"Stop, please stop!" Her voice was struggling to rise above the din as she risked stepping near the storm of claws and teeth, stone and pelt.

I couldn't believe my eyes. Bella was ambling toward us. Didn't she realize how dangerous this situation was? I stopped the fight cold. I didn't want Bella to get hurt unintentionally. Edward took that as his opportunity to get in a strike, the filthy leech. His fist shot out and connected with my collar bone. I heard the crack and felt the searing pain as the bone came piercing through my skin. Letting out a bloodcurdling howl, I phased immediately and snapped my shoulder backward, making the bone pull back into position. The blood was spilling down my chest.

Edward removed his shirt and threw it to me to cover myself. Bella was at my side in an instant. She turned to face Edward. "I don't want to see you anymore, Edward. Do you understand me? I need you to leave—now!"

"You're just upset, you can't really mean that," he muttered. One final glance in her direction and he got the message. He turned abruptly and walked toward the parked Volvo.

Bella's lips began to tremble. "Oh, my god, Jake, you're bleeding," she gasped.

I didn't want to scare her, plus I knew how well she reacted to the smell of blood. "It's not too bad, I've had a lot worse." It still hurt like hell, but I wasn't gonna tell her that. "Can you please get me a towel?"

She nodded, and stood up. "Don't move, Jake. I'll be right back."

I watched as she ran around to the front of the house.

Where could I go? I was lying on the ground naked, with a still sore bruise on my butt. There was a shirt smelling like stinkin' vamp stench covering my crotch, my head throbbed from my brush with that tree trunk, and blood was trickling out of a hole in my chest. The cooking lesson was definitely over, but then I realized that Eddie had learned a lesson too—on how to cook his own goose. Yeah, on the bright side, I didn't think Bella would be thinking happy thoughts about Edward anytime soon, ha!

Bella returned a few minutes later with a towel and a pair of her dad's sweatpants. She knelt beside me and placed the towel on my seeping wound, applying pressure to stanch the flow of blood. Then she helped me stick my feet into the pant legs, getting them as far as my thighs. While she turned her head, I hurled the reeking shirt into the bushes, and pulled the pants up the rest of the way with my good arm.

Reaching out to me, she asked, "Do you think you can stand?"

"Yeah, I think so." I took her hand and attempted to get up off the ground. I landed back down again with a loud thud. "Hoooooh! . . . Oh, God, that hurts," I yelled. "Dammit! That freakin' leech . . . Okay . . ." Taking a deep breath, I gritted my teeth. "Let's try that again. Huuuhh, huuuuuhh!" I panted.

This time, I made it to a standing position. I held my bad arm at the elbow so it wouldn't pull the collarbone out of place again. Hopefully, it would be starting to heal already.

Sliding her arm around my waist, she led me slowly, and we entered the house. I sat down on her couch, trying to jar myself as little as possible.

"Uh, Bells, do you think you could get me a scarf or a belt—something to hold my arm across my chest. I don't want this collarbone to slide out of place again."

Her mouth dropped open. "What do you mean again?"

Drawing aside the towel, I pointed at the shrinking hole. Bella inched closer. "The bone was sticking out right there."

She moved her head back quickly. "Ugh! I think I'm going to be sick."

I leaned forward, making eye contact. "Not 'til you bring me a belt."

Bella was next to me on the couch. She got up on her knees and had the belt around my neck, adjusting it.

"Careful . . . careful," I winced.

She finished buckling the belt and as an afterthought, she ran her hand down the back of my head. Her fingers came away with blood on them.

Looking at her hand in dismay, she blurted out, "Oh my gosh, your head's bleeding too."

I wiped the hair at my head. Yep, I was caught red-handed, confirming her observation. "Crap—you're right—must've been when he slammed me up against that tree."

She shook her head in unbelief. "How can you be so calm about it? Jake . . . He could have killed you."

I just shrugged my shoulders. I thought about my reaction too late. "Ow—Oh man, that was stupid."

Bella sighed. "I'm going to get some soap and a basin of water. You look like something out of a horror movie."

Placing the pan of water on the coffee table, she began dabbing at the wound, washing away all the remaining traces of blood. The red trickle had already stopped. A small scar and some bruising were the only telltale signs of the injury.

Her hand gently touched the back of my neck, as she spoke. "Can you bend your head down a little? I want to get all the blood out of your hair."

I poked my forehead with the index finger of my good hand, and chuckled. "Good thing I've got a thick skull, huh?"

"That's not funny, Jake.

"Everything's a joke to you. What would Billy have done if his son came home an invalid?"

I felt myself getting on the defensive. I reared my head back, nearly knocking the wet rag out of her hand. "Well what did you want me to do—stand there and let Mr. Sparkles harass you?"

Bella dropped the rag into the basin. "I just . . . I don't know . . ."

Her eyes flashed suddenly. "I don't get it. Why can't men back down from a challenge? Why is it so freakin' important? Tell me why. Why?"

Bella straightened up, her lips in a tight line, waiting for my reaction.

I lifted my head carefully, and met the fire in her eyes. "You're a girl—you wouldn't understand. It would be a blow to my ego; that's why. I'd like to be able to hold my head up high."

"Well, right now, you can't even do that!"

Just then, the alarm went off in the kitchen.

Whew, saved by the bell, literally. Bella helped me up off the couch.

Her voice softened. "C'mon, our quiche is calling."

She took the quiche out of the oven, and boy did it smell good. I had all I could do to keep the drool from running down my chin. I sat down at the kitchen table while she set it on a rack to cool down enough to eat. She turned and sat down next to me, shaking her head.

We sat at the table quietly for a while, waiting for the food to be the right temperature. Bella kept looking at me; I kept looking at her. Finally a smile crept over her face. "You're such a bad boy. What am I going to do with you?"

I tried to hold back a grin, but I couldn't help it. She left herself wide open. "I can think of a million things, and a lot of them have to do with skin contact."

All at once she stood up. I quickly added, "I'm sorry—I'm sorry. Just kidding Bells."

"Ugh! I know I should be used to it by now," she sighed, "but you still make me crazy sometimes." She got up from the table, and reaching into the cabinets for plates, cups and utensils, placed them down in front of our chairs. The cups got filled with lemonade, and then, she placed the pitcher in the middle of the table. Slicing a big piece of the quiche for me, and a smaller one for herself, she instructed, "Okay, dig in!"

My attempts to dig in didn't meet with much success. I had a hard time getting the food to my salivating mouth. Damn that bloodsucker—he did that on purpose. He knew I was right handed. The stupid quiche kept falling off my fork before I could get it to my lips.

Bella sensed my frustration, and moved her chair closer. "Poor baby," she said as she clicked her tongue. "Here let me help you."

She took my fork away, and stabbing the first piece fed it to me. Our eyes never lost contact as she placed each piece on my tongue. It was fascinating watching the way her facial expressions changed as she nudged every morsel into my mouth. Her pink lips would form a perfect "O" prodding me to open up.

The quiche was making my taste buds explode with freakin' joy. And Bells feeding me was making the meal doubly enjoyable. I had to make this woman mine! This was food for the gods. Hell, what was I saying? She could probably feed me dirt, and I'd be on my knees begging her for more. Who would believe that this simple act could be so damn sexy. Phew!

Darn, my plate was empty; not a crumb remained. Bella pushed her chair back and took the plates and forks to the sink. I finished the lemonade; I could handle that at least.

Bella glanced at the clock. "Holy cow, Charlie will be here soon. I need to get you home."

I really didn't want to leave yet. "What's the hurry? Why can't I stay a little longer?"

"Do I have to answer that? Just look at yourself. How am I supposed to explain why you're sitting here half naked with a belt holding your arm to your chest? Now let's go."

"Okay, but you gotta promise me that we'll have another cooking lesson soon. Both my arms should be in working order by tomorrow." I wiggled my eyebrows. "Got any more eggs—I'm hell at beating eggs."

Bella's eyes rolled up toward heaven. All right, Emeril, give me the keys to the Rabbit.