Good morning my amazing readers! I hope your weekend is treating you well :)

Are we ready to jump in and get a little closer to finding out what happened to Edward? We're going to get a hint in this chapter, but he's going to come clean in the next one.

So, let's see how that party of Emmett's plays out...

We should have known that Emmett's party wouldn't be small. Once word got out at school, it was only a matter of time before Saint Mary students began to hear about it, raising the headcount exponentially. I blame Jessica.

"I think I'm gonna wear that tube top with the sunflowers. I'm invitin' Paul from Saint Mary's," she tells us over lunch. I'm half listening because Edward has claimed the seat in the cafeteria next to me over the past few days, and while he's turned to talk to Emmett and Jasper on the other side of the table, his elbow keeps touching mine. I grit my teeth, trying to ignore the warmth radiating off him and the light touch of his bare skin against mine.

It's just elbows, Bella. Get a grip!

"Right, but what suit are you gonna wear under it?" Rosalie asks as she bites into her pimento cheese sandwich.

"I've got that strapless one with the tie thing in front. Remember?" I purse my lips to hold back a grin because I sure as shit remember. It's the one she settled for the day I swiped my skimpy white bikini out from under her.

"What suit are you gonna wear, Bella?" Rosalie turns toward me, and I point to her cheek where some pimento is stuck.

"I haven't thought much about it." Edward shifts, and his bicep brushes my upper arm. My eyelids flutter, and I take a deep breath. It doesn't help. I'm met with the scent of spice and clean boy.

Rosalie sets her sandwich down and wipes her face. She's silent for a moment pretending to think over my wardrobe while she reaches for her diet soda. But with the way her eyes flick to Edward before her lips curl up, I know what's coming before she opens her mouth. "I think you outta wear that white one."

Jessica pouts and glares at her bag of chips, mourning the loss of the perfect bikini. I glare at Rosalie because it's still not like that with Edward. Even if she spent last night on the phone trying to convince me that the boy is interested.

Edward stands, placing his hand on my back and leaning in. "You want me to take anything to the trash for you?" The way his breath tickles my neck makes me shiver. I vaguely register Rosalie's bark of laughter.

"Um, sure." I place my empty water bottle and orange peel on the tray before he squeezes my shoulder and takes off for the trashcans.

"Who knew trash could be so sexy," Rosalie snorts over her soda can.

I narrow my eyes at her and pick at a leftover chocolate chip cookie Alice brought over from her baking spree yesterday afternoon. "Shut up."

"White bikini," Rosalie sings, collecting her trash and bookbag as the bell rings.

I'm torn over the bathing suit debacle until the day of Emmett's party. That morning, I'm out front, pulling some weeds from our little patch of grass, when Edward strolls out of his house, wearing the tight-fitting, white pants of his baseball uniform and a t-shirt with the arms cut off so low that the muscles surrounding his ribs and sides show under the fabric. His green Jacksonville Jays cap is on backward, and fuck me if the temperature doesn't shoot up a thousand degrees.

He doesn't notice me while he listens to a last-minute pep talk from Dr. Cullen, who I overhear will meet Edward at the game later. I wipe the sweat off my neck and brush it off my hand onto my tiny shorts, then glance down to make sure my light pink tank top isn't covered in dirt. Okay, maybe I also check to make sure the girls are sitting right, just to show off a little.

Edward lifts the athletic bag he holds over his shoulder and lobs it into the back of the truck, his biceps flexing with the effort. As it lands with a thunk, he finally looks up and notices me.

He grins and walks across the driveway in my direction as I stand. "Hey."

"Hey. You headed to your game?" I have the urge to kick myself because, duh, Bella.

"Yep. You gardenin'?"

"Pullin' weeds."

"Sounds fun." His eyes light with his teasing, and I suck in a breath as I get lost in how the green in his hat brings out the streaks of green in his gaze.

I forget it's my turn to talk, and we spend too long standing in my yard staring at each other. Eventually, his eyes dip and scan my body before landing on my chest. I'm aware of what's happening, but I'm convinced that I must be imagining this. My brain can't comprehend the idea that Edward may feel the same attraction to me that I do to him. My pulse quickens in excitement, and I bite the inside of my lip to control the sly smile that wants to escape.

"Uh." His line of vision changes, snapping up to my face before darting to the side as he clears his throat and lifts a hand to rub at the back of his neck. "I better get goin'."

"Right, yeah." I nod and shoo him off. "Hope you have a good game."

He chuckles and makes his way toward his truck. "Yeah. Me too."

I wave as he backs out of the driveway and watch him roll down the street.

I am so definitely wearing the white bikini.

oOo

The bass thumps loud enough to rattle the windows on the side of the McCarty's house. Terrified that Charlie's going to get a call at some point tonight, Rosalie and I have made a game plan for when we see the flashing lights of cruisers pull up. Our game plan- run like hell.

I bum a seltzer off Leah while we catch up in Emmett's living room. Her boyfriend drama puts Rosalie and Emmett to shame. Sam's the kind of guy who thinks he's God's gift to women. So, it's not shocking to anyone that Leah found him hooking up with some chick named Emily last week after a football game. She swears she's done with him for good. I swear she's a liar.

Sipping on my watermelon-flavored drink, I peruse the back deck, not so subtly hoping to catch sight of auburn hair under a green baseball cap. But so far, no Edward. I do, however, spot Mike and Tyler lighting up and dropping ash on the glass top of the patio table. Jasper isn't far off, leaning against the fence and talking to a tiny dark-haired girl in a pink bikini. My pink bikini.

"Oh, hell no," I mutter, scanning faces nearby to see if I can find Rosalie because she's a pro at fuck-boy interventions. But God knows she's off somewhere sucking face- or something else, ew- with Emmett. Sighing, I beeline to where Alice is giggling and fluttering her lashes at the school's slimy dealer.

"Darlin', I swear to all that is holy, I ran like my ass was on fire. Mrs. McCarty and gardenin' shears." Jasper shivers for effect as I walk up behind Alice. "That ain't nothin' to mess with."

"And you got away?" Alice asks, breathy and too impressed with whatever Jasper claims he got away with.

He squares his shoulders and puffs his chest. "Yes, ma'am." His eyes shimmer with the telltale glassiness of getting high, and I wonder how much he's smoked tonight. Then I wonder if he's convinced Alice to smoke, and I have the urge to throat-punch him.

"Alice," I say, interrupting them and linking my arm with hers. "Whatcha doin'?"

"Oh, hi, Bella! Jasper was tellin' me about the time he and Emmett got caught stealin' the neighbor's Netflix login's. Mrs. McCarty near strangled 'em!"

"Netflix is the devil's doin'." Jasper winks. I scowl.

I step back, about to pull Alice away and talk some sense into her, when my shoulder hits a solid wall of muscle. Twisting to see who's blocking my path, I'm met with defined pecs and a strong clavicle. I tilt my head up to find Edward's jaw locked, and eyes narrowed at his friend. His hair is still damp from a shower, and I have to ball my hands so I don't reach up and tousle the strands.

"What's goin' on?"

Alice opens her mouth to speak. I pinch her side, shaking my head and telling her to shut up. Her lips purse, but she takes my lead, keeping quiet.

I turn to her with wide-eyed urgency. "Alice, I need you to help me find Rosalie. Leah's havin' boy problems, and she needs Rosalie's advice." I'm a horrible actress.

"Oh, um, okay." Alice peeks up at Jasper once more before she shuffles her feet, allowing me to drag her off. Edward closes in on Jasper, his broad shoulders tense- and I might need to break that situation up in a few minutes.

Once I have Alice across the pool deck, I stop and spin to face her, forcing her to stumble to a halt. "Alice, no."

"What?" she stammers, blinking in surprise.

"Jasper. Just plain and simple, no."

"I- I don't understand." She glances behind us, but all we can see through the sea of bodies are the tops of Edward and Jasper's heads.

I sigh. "Alice, have you ever smoked pot, taken Molly? Hell, have you ever had a drink before tonight?" I gesture to the barely drunk beer in her hand.

Her shoulders hunch, and her eyes dart around as if everyone at this party will suddenly realize she doesn't belong- that she's just some measly freshman with zero experience in the ways of high school debauchery. "Um, no."

"Good. I promise you that's not a bad thing." My relieved smile is sincere as I release the breath I'm holding. "But you gotta understand, if you hang out with Jasper, everyone's gonna think you do those things."

"Why would they think that?" Her brows dip, and she turns her head again, looking toward her brother and Jasper, who are throwing their hands in a heated discussion.

"Because he's a dealer, Alice." I have to fight the urge to roll my eyes. I know being young and naive is not her fault… but come on. Jasper looks every bit the delinquent with his shoulder-length hair and old band t-shirts. Everyone can see he's the guy you go to when you want to get high.

Her expression falls as she continues to watch the boys on the opposite side of the patio.

"Tyler Crowley has a brother who's your age. I saw him in the pool earlier. He plays football… and you're a cheerleader. That would be a great match. Why don't we go find him?"

"No, Bella. It's okay. I'm not sure how much longer I'm gonna stay." She's back to mumbling at the ground, and I cringe because I just earned the title of biggest bitch in the world.

I bite at the corner of my lip as I work on a way to fix this. "Alice, I promise you're gonna make friends. You already have me and Rosalie." I nudge her and give her a smile when she looks up. "We're your girls."

I earn a little grin and a nod before she takes a deep breath and blows it out slowly. "Bella, is it okay if I consider you a sister?" She fiddles with the tab on her beer can, holding my stare for a quick second before her cheeks pinken.

Years of memories fill my chest with warmth as I blink away the sting in my eye. "Alice, I am your sister."

I gasp in surprise as her willowy arms wrap around my shoulders, and she squeezes me tight for the tiniest moment, not even long enough for me to return the gesture. But she's smiling wide when she pulls back, and seeing her this happy makes me want to dance with joy.

"Thank you, Bella." She absently tugs at a strand of hair as her eyes wander the pool deck. "I think I'm gonna call my mama to come get me. This party is a lot more socializin' than I'm used to."

I squeeze her hand, happy when the contact isn't too much for her. "I'm glad you came." She nods and hands me her beer before waving as she walks off to find her bag and phone.

With a beer in one hand and a seltzer in the other, I weave through partygoers toward the patio table, where Edward and Jasper have settled their dispute and joined Mike and Tyler. Jasper is lighting a joint which he passes to Edward as I sit across from them. My lips pull down with a frown as I watch Edward take his first pull.

"Two drinks?" He raises his brows after blowing out the smoke and passing back to Jasper.

"One was your sister's. She's goin' home." I risk a glance at Jasper, who's rolling the joint between his fingers. If he gives a shit that Alice is leaving, he's doing a good job of hiding it.

Edward reaches forward, curling his fingers in a gimme motion. "I'll drink Alice's." I hand over the beer, and he lifts it to his mouth, chugging half in one long gulp.

Jasper turns around to greet a couple of guys looking to score some of his product, and I take the opportunity, leaning in so only Edward can hear me. "You alright?"

"Peachy keen, princess," he snarks. I reel back in shock. He might as well have punched me in the gut and slapped me across the face from the sting that paralyzes me. "Sorry," he mutters and reaches over to snatch the dwindling joint from Jasper's hand. He takes a deep pull, holding it in as long as possible.

"Did your game go okay?" I trap my lip between my teeth, afraid my question is off limits, but I need to know why a completely different person than the one I talked to this morning is sitting in front of me.

He scoffs. "Yeah. It went great." His voice is dripping with sarcasm, and now I'm wondering if Mama Esme can give me a ride home too. I don't want to be around this Edward anymore. "I got pulled in the third innin' after I gave up five runs."

"Edward, I'm sorry," I sigh and try to be sympathetic, but snatch the joint from his fingers and pretend to take a hit- just so he'll stop. He lifts the beer instead, drinking down the last of it.

"I need more." He stands and goes off to hunt for more alcohol, leaving me with his baked friends. I hand the joint to Mike, who's glaring at Jessica in the pool with her new boy toy. Huh. I'll have to explore that one later with Rosalie.

I don't know if I should follow Edward or let him blow off steam before I try to talk to him again, but something in my gut is telling me not to leave him alone. This game was important to him, and he might have blown it. But getting wasted isn't the answer.

He's in the kitchen when I find him, leaning against the counter while Emmett gives him an empathetic pat on the back. Edward already has a new drink in his hand but is sipping this one at a more normal rate. Rosalie sits on the countertop across from the boys and raises her brows when she sees me. I shake my head because I don't know how to handle this either.

My seltzer is half drunk but warm, so I dig through a cooler and locate a canned margarita. It's too sweet and tastes nothing like the margaritas Rosalie's mom made us one drunken night last summer, but I choke it down anyway. If Edward's getting wasted, I'll need some lubrication to deal with him.

I settle against the counter a few feet away and watch him gulp more of his drink. He's listening to Emmett trash talk with some guys from Saint Mary's. He chuckles occasionally, but I keep catching him staring off into space. His head is stuck on a baseball field, miles away from this party.

When Rosalie grabs her next drink, she scoots around the hoard of guys in the middle of the kitchen to prop herself next to me. She checks me with her hip and whispers, "You okay?" I shrug. She gets that I don't want to talk about it. Instead, I catch her up on the Leah and Sam gossip.

Edward's on his third beer by the time Emmett turns to pick up Rosalie and toss her over his shoulder. For a moment, I'm able to breathe. This is normal- the fun part of the party, the way things are supposed to be. She swats at him until he puts her down, but judging by how she's laughing, it's clear that she loves the attention. I'm giggling at their antics when an arm wraps around me and a hand settles on my bare waist. Goosebumps break across my skin as I pull my gaze up until I'm trapped in Edward's eyes. Too many emotions flick through them for me to read, and my head is too hazy to understand the implication of them all. He pushes his lips into a straight line and squeezes his eyes shut before he sighs and says, "I'm sorry."

"Um." I'm so at a loss I can't remember what he has to be sorry about. I'm reeling with the buzz of the party, a little alcohol, and the high of feeling him wrapped around me.

His voice is low in my ear, and his breath tickles my neck when he says, "I shouldn't have let my bad performance out on you."

"It's okay." My heart is beating so fast I'm not sure I can stand without the grip I hold on the counter behind me.

He shakes his head. "It's not."

A cheer breaks out from the group in front of us as one of the Saint Mary guys chugs a beer whole. Edward laughs and sips his own, but his arm doesn't leave me. I don't know if he's forgotten it's there or if this is something more, but I lean into him, unable to stop myself from taking advantage.

The sun sets, and the drinking continues. Edward goes to beer four, then shots, slurring his words a little as he throws back his third fireball. He's more animated the longer he drinks, getting rowdy with the other boys, his new beer sloshing out of the can when he talks, but not once does he remove his arm from around me.

Rosalie is giving me all sorts of looks and lewd gestures. She's on drink I-don't-know-how-many, and I'm worried I will have to drag her home if she doesn't quit soon. Emmett is the only person who isn't drunk, and I can't remember seeing him drink anything tonight.

Around ten, Jessica comes squealing through the kitchen, being chased by Mike. She's soaking wet from the pool and grabs Rosalie, using her as a human shield. "They won't stop throwin' me in the pool!" She squawks.

"Jesus Christ, get off of me!" Rosalie grabs Jessica's wrists and flings her away.

"It's swimmin' time?" Emmett's lips curl into a sly smile as he joins forces with Mike, the two of them stalking Jessica and Rosalie.

"I swear to the Lord, Emmett, if you throw me in that pool, I'm gonna tell your mama you had a party!" Rosalie backs up until her butt hits a cabinet, and she's trapped.

Emmett laughs, reaching for her and easily lifting her off the ground. "No, you won't."

Jessica's next, trapped around the waist, Mike lifting her while she screams and kicks, flailing like a fish.

"Y'all are animals," I tease, rolling my eyes.

"Oh, you don't think you're gettin' outta this, do you?" A burst of air escapes me as Edward's cinnamon-laced breath tickles my ear again. I have little time to think before he leans down, hooks an arm under my knees, lifts me, and marches toward the pool.

"No, no, no, no, no. Edward Cullen, don't you dare!" I smack his chest and twist in his arms to no avail. He holds me tighter and laughs at my misfortune.

He swings me back and uses my weight to propel me forward into the water. I have a split second to pull in air before I'm submerged. One of my flip-flops flies off, lost somewhere in the pool. The denim shorts I never took off lacquer themselves to my legs as I pop above the surface, pushing back my hair and running a finger under my eyes to catch smeared mascara.

"You jackass!" Rosalie is already climbing out, chasing down Emmett, who's on his way through the side gate. Jessica and Mike are hot on their heels.

I suck in my cheeks and raise a brow at Edward. I'm nice. I give him a warning. "You better run."

"Oh, shit!" I forget how fast he is, and he's out the gate before I've climbed from the pool. I give chase, the wet denim between my thighs chafing and slowing me down as my feet hit the plush grass on the front lawn.

"Hey, Ed," Emmett calls from the front seat of his Jeep. "Paul and Mike are drag racin' at driftwood. You up for a second round? You and me?"

My heart stops as I turn to catch Edward's answer. His face pinches in thought before he begins to nod. Dear God, no. "He can't drive!" I call to Emmett, but the sound of his Jeep, Mike's Charger, and Paul's F150 drown out my voice.

"Are those morons racin' over Jessica?" Rosalie scoffs, appearing next to me. "They've lost their damn minds." We cock our heads, following Jessica as she looks between the Charger and the Ford. Mike versus Paul. She makes up her mind and races toward Emmett's Jeep instead. "Oh, fuck no!" Rosalie growls, chasing after her.

Edward's Ram revs in the driveway, making me snap my head in his direction. He can not drive. He puts the gear shift into reverse, and I don't think as I launch myself forward, pulling open the passenger door right before he starts to move.

"Bella?" He blinks a few times, maybe in disbelief, maybe because he's seeing two of me.

"Edward. Please stop. You're drunk," I beg, climbing in.

He rolls his eyes and leans over me to shut my door. "I'm not drunk."

"You had five beers.. and shots!"

"It takes more than that to get me drunk." His speech is slow and lazy. I know he's full of shit. I squeeze my eyes shut as he backs into the street, taking off behind Emmett.

"You smoked with Jasper!"

He accelerates too hard, and I grab the "oh, shit" handle. "Calm down, Bella. That was hours ago."

I grit my teeth as he takes a turn too fast, trying to keep up with his boys. I'm shaking from adrenaline as I reach for my seatbelt, clicking it into place. I pretend the shivering is from my wet clothes and the air conditioning and turn the vents to face away from me.

Paul and Mike speed up at a yellow light, barely making it through the intersection before it turns red. Edward switches lanes and slams to a stop beside the Jeep. Emmett's music pours out his open car while Rosalie uses the passenger mirror to clean up her eye makeup, and Jessica bounces on her chair in the back.

Edward rolls down his windows, laughing. "What the hell is that shit?" He yells.

"What? You like it?" Emmett reaches to his dash and turns up the volume.

"Fuck, no," Edward mumbles, grabbing his phone and selecting a playlist. A rock song with a heavy electric guitar plays over his speakers as he turns up his volume to meet Emmetts.

Emmett laughs when the light turns green, and he shoots off like a rocket. Edward follows close behind.

"Edward, please." I try again. "This is stupid."

"Jesus, Bella. It's fine. What, you want me to back down and look like a fuckin' pussy?" Edward's wild eyes match the chaos of his hair as it whips around his head from the wind. He's on a high bigger than that of the pot or the beer. He's pumped full of adrenaline and testosterone, and I'm sure he will kill us both.

I start praying as we close in on driftwood beach. I talk to God, to Jesus, to anyone who will listen. The stretch of road going out to Tyler's family's land is single-lane paved and the site of too many wrecks to count. It's a mile and a half long, but it only takes a few yards for something to go wrong.

Mike and Paul stop at the beginning of the road, and another Saint Mary guy climbs out of Paul's car. He's the starter who flags the beginning of the races to prevent cheating. My gut twists as the situation becomes too real.

Edward's truck bounces off and on the pavement, as we go around the stopped cars. I hold onto my seat, trying to regulate my breathing while anger flares inside me at the stupidity of all my friends.

We park next to Emmett when we reach the sand, where the race will end. From here, we can't see most of the road, only about half a mile, the section past a large curve. Jessica and Rosalie hop out of the Jeep and jump onto the hood for a better view. I glare at Edward, who's leaning out his window trash-talking with Emmett, before I escape the cab and slam my door in the process.

"Someone's pissy," Rosalie greets me as I climb next to her on the hood of the Jeep.

"They're gonna kill themselves." My hair is half dry, half wet, so when I try to tug at it, my fingers get caught.

"Bella." Rosalie grabs my other hand. "They're gonna be fine."

I glance over my shoulder when Edward's door slams, and he meets Emmett in front of his truck. "Edward's been smokin' pot and drinkin' all night."

She frowns and glances over to where he's tripping over himself in amusement at something Emmett's said. "I can talk to Emmett…."

"Here they come!" Jessica jumps to the floor and starts clapping as Mike and Paul appear around the bend, tires squealing against the pavement.

My breaths come quick as they battle for position, Mike pulling forward, then Paul. They're neck to neck, and Jessica loves every damn second of it. I'm scowling at her because I'm pissed she caused this when Rosalie gasps, and her hold on my hand tightens.

I look up in time to see Paul's truck fishtail, a rear tire swerving off the road. He's forced to slow to get the vehicle back under control, and Mike pulls ahead. Mike passes the chainlink fence that signals the end of the race well before Paul does and slows as he parks next to the Jeep.

Jessica is at his side in a flash, throwing her arms around him and kissing his cheeks. "I knew you'd win!" Mike wraps an arm around her waist and sends us all a cocky grin. They're both absolute morons.

Paul parks on the other side of the Ram, avoiding Jessica and Mike while he nods to Emmett and Edward. "Hey, you two are up."

My palms sweat, and I push them into the metal of the Jeep's hood. I'm unwilling to move, thinking I can prevent the inevitable if I stay here, blocking Emmett's car.

"Em, this is stupid. Y'all don't need to prove to Bella and me that you're big men. We already know." Rosalie winks to prove her point as she slides down the hood and crosses the sandy ground toward Emmett. She hooks a finger in his shorts and places a palm on his chest to distract him.

Emmett thinks about it, his hand wandering to Roalie's ass, and I'm about to let out a cheer of victory when Mike opens his mouth. "You that whipped McCarty?"

Emmett laughs and smacks Rosalie's left butt cheek before walking to his car, twisting his key around his finger. "Fuck, no, man. Ed, come get your girl off my car."

I can't focus on the fact that he called me Edward's girl because I'm trying to think of anything that will stop this insanity.

"Come on, Bella," Edward says, stepping up and holding a hand to help me to the ground.

"This is so stupid, Edward." My gut sinks as my bare feet hit the tiny shells mixed in the packed sand, and a sense of unease overtakes me.

He laughs and rolls his eyes, trying to toss his keys around his finger like Emmett, but drops them in the sand instead. I hold my fist against my mouth, helpless, as they turn on their cars and pull away.

Rosalie links her arm with mine while the wind rustles the palms overhead. "Relax. They're gonna be fine."

But the turmoil in my stomach won't dissipate. A minute later, we hear tires squeal as the race begins, and I breathe deeply to try and settle my pounding heart. I'm shivering with anxiety, and my ears ring with the sounds of the wind and the nearby sea. I can't tear my eyes from the curve in the road.

One of the boys hits their horn seconds before barrelling around the curve. Edward is in front, making it impossible for Emmett to pass, steering his wheel so the truck winds back and forth across the pavement. Emmett's rap blasts from his speakers, but we can still hear the boys yelling at each other over the sound.

Inside I'm screaming at myself to shut my eyes, not watch the horrible end I am sure we're about to witness. But I'm frozen. Unable to peel myself away from the catastrophe.

Rosalie squeezes my arm in a death grip as she jumps and screams for Emmett to "hurry the fuck up." I nudge her hard in the side, earning a slap on the shoulder. I can't understand how she's encouraging this recklessness.

The boys only have yards left. Emmett has pulled off the pavement, catching up to Edward as they speed toward us side by side. My teeth dig into my lower lip so hard I taste the metallic telltale of blood inside my mouth. They're so close, and it's almost over. I pray hard for this to end and for Edward and Emmett to walk away unscathed.

Rosalie sees it first. Her jumping halts as she gasps, nails digging into my skin. Edward's back tire slips off the edge of the concrete as Emmett tries to pull ahead.

Only feet of pavement are left as Edward's tire loses traction and his truck begins to spin to the side. Emmett whoops in victory as he passes the chainlink fence, not yet realizing what's happening. At the same time, I cry for Edward to stop somehow and pull back before his truck flips, slams into the trees surrounding his path, crashes through the fence, or any of the ways I see this ending.

From our spot as onlookers, we can see him clearly through the windshield, working to twist the wheel, desperate to gain control only to have the vehicle do a complete one-eighty, sliding backward, gaining no traction against the sandy ground. He's spiraling straight toward the chainlink metal. Rosalie and I scream as he nears the fence, his break lights shining through the linked steel, throwing red diamonds across the ground.

The sound of metal buckling and scratching against his bumper sends a panic through me that outweighs any fear I've faced before. The truck ricochets from the impact before stalling. Thick and heavy silence settles over us while a lump forms in my throat, and a pain hits my chest so deep I'm afraid I'll collapse.

Not a second passes before I beg my legs to move, and I'm running across the makeshift parking lot. My feet sting against the unevenly packed sand while my lungs ache from lack of air. I try to scream Edward's name, but everything comes no louder than a ragged whisper. I avoid the mangled fence, rushing to the passenger side of his car, preparing myself for whatever horror I will face once I reach him.

But before my hand hits the handle, the driver's side door swings open, and a guttural laugh fills the empty night air.

"Oh, Jesus, did y'all see that?" Relief, confusion, and a viscous anger color my vision as Edward stumbles out, uninjured and in hysterics.

Emmett is the first at his side, reaching a hand out to steady him. "Fuck, man, your truck."

Edward stands straight, sobering as he rushes to check the damage. He runs his hand across the slightly scratched paint of the tailgate, and the dents in the bumper, then shrugs. "Could've been worse."

I'm in his face faster than I fully comprehend, my palm making contact with his cheek. His head snaps to the side as a stunned expression crosses his unfocused eyes.

"How, fuckin' dare you?" I scream, so furious I'm vibrating. "You could have killed yourself, and all you have to say is, 'It could have been worse?'"

"God, Bella, calm down." Edward glances at Emmett for support, but his friend only shakes his head and returns to surveying the damage.

"Fuck you, Edward!" I cry. He's stepping closer, and I can't do this. He's just returned to me, and his idiotic impulsive decisions could have ripped him away for good. I push against his chest hard enough to have him stumble backward. Emmett reaches out and grabs his arm to keep him from falling.

"Give me your keys," I snap and hold out my hand.

"Bella, come on. It's not that bad."

I want to punch him. Give him a black eye, break his nose, and force him to understand that yes. Yes, this is that bad. "Look me in the eye."

He can't because he knows inebriation is written all over his face, from the flush of his skin to the red streaks in his eyes. So, instead, he glances toward our friends, who are watching the scene unfold with a mixture of regret and fear. All of them understand what he doesn't. Tonight could have ended so much worse. Irreversibly worse.

My voice lowers to a whisper as he finally holds up the keys and reluctantly drops them in my palm. "You're drunk, you're high, and you're Goddamn dangerous."

"Bella, come on." He's begging- for what I can't comprehend. Understanding? Forgiveness? Neither of which I have the ability to give.

"Get in the fuckin' car."

I climb into the driver's seat, praying that his truck will still start, and sigh in relief when the engine turns over and nothing on the dash flashes to tell me it's undrivable. Through the mirror, I watch him slap hands with Emmett before he walks around and slowly gets himself into the passenger side.

I fume in silence as I steer the truck onto the pavement, and his head falls against the window.

I ignore him when he mumbles, "I'm sorry."

Because, right now, that's nowhere near enough.

A/N: Well, now we've seen a side of Edward that Bella definitely was not ready for. There's nothing sweet and innocent about inebriation and recklessness. Something tells me Bella's not going to make earning forgiveness easy...

The next chapter is the one you've all been waiting for, we find out exactly what happened in Atlanta. Make sure you've selected to follow this story so you don't miss when chapter ten posts!

Until next time :)