WARNING: Thanks to certain potty-mouthed individuals of the Pack, contains pretty strong language. Also contains domestic abuse/violence.

A/N: Thanks to SoundShield11 for some invaluable advice and for helping me see things more clearly and put things into perspective with this chapter - I appreciate it :)

XXXXXXXXX

Chapter X

Sam's pov:

As much as I hate to admit it, Jared was right. Paul needed space and time to cool down and if I had to back off for that to happen then ... then that's what I had to do. Even though it was the last thing I wanted.

Ever since I laid eyes on him yesterday, Paul's all I've been able to think about. The image of his lithe, toned, bronze-skinned frame, cropped, raven hair coupled with his lean, strikingly handsome face was permanently etched, or rather imprinted, on my mind. Especially his eyes. Whoever said the eyes were the windows to the soul was no liar, that's for sure. They were Paul's best assets by far. Most of the time, they were darkly mysterious yet to me, I'd always found them to be highly expressive, extremely intelligent ... and now ? Hauntingly beautiful. Even as they narrowed with suspicion, anger and pain as he'd watched me warily. And honestly ? That's the last way I want him to look at me. I want those mesmerizing, dark, velvety eyes to gaze at me with a burning need ... for him to want me intensely ... to see them soften longingly. And above all, to be full of love. For me to be "the be all and end all of his life" ... as he's become mine.

But I'm not that naive a fool. I know there isn't a ghost of a chance of that ever happening and I've far better odds of winning the lottery or seeing hell freeze over before my mate will ever yield to me and give in to the pull of the imprint. 'Cause I realize now that I've fucked up beyond belief. That what I did to him was unforgivable. And although I crave it desperately, I don't deserve his forgiveness ... or him. No matter how badly I wish for it. Somehow, these intense feelings I have for him have crept up on and caught me unawares ... or they were there all along and were simply dormant. I'm fucked if I know ... But they're here now and I wouldn't be without them for the world ...

I never imagined that a single person could have such an impact on my life. But it's true ... there's something about Paul that enthralls me. Whether it's the effect of the imprint or the mark I gave him, I haven't a freakin' clue nor do I particularly care. But whatever it is, it calls to me ... lures me in and entices me and for some inexplicable reason, my inner wolf loves it. Loves him. In simple terms, although Paul can't, or knowing him, won't see it, my feisty, attractive mate rocks my world. He's turned everything upside down and inside out and I just don't care. I don't give a damn, so long as he forgives me and takes me back ... and continues to care for me. And that's why I'm prepared to respect his wishes and give him time to sort his head and his heart out ... even if it ends up driving me crazy.

XXXXX

Paul's pov:

Sometimes ... hell, no, scratch that, it's been happening a lot lately, but I've been wondering where my head's at most days. Take the last time I saw Sam, when he showed up at Leah's looking for me. I got so pissed at him that I verbally chewed him out. Tore a right strip off him. Yet the moment I stalked off in a strop, I was conflicted. My wolf was distraught by my bloody-minded actions and was all too aware that I was too proud or far too dumb to see that I was cutting my nose to spite my face when I walked away. And to top it off, I couldn't help the guilt niggling away at me as I caught a glimpse of my imprint's confused and stricken face as I left him.

But I was damned if I was going to let Sam walk all over me again or allow him to have any madcap ideas about dictating what I could or couldn't do. I had enough of those problems thanks to that vindictive, old bastard I have to live with. And as far as the rebel in me was concerned - despite my wolf's vehement protests - Sam lost any say as to what I did the moment he told me "to stay the fuck away from him." That's not to say that I don't regret what I did to him ... I do. More than anything. And the more I think about it - about him - the more I hurt. I genuinely ache for Sam. I need him. Want him. Love him ... desperately. But I can't - I won't - be a mug about this fucking imprint. I did that before and just look where it fucking got me ... Nothing but a world of pain and grief and searing, endless heartache. I try telling myself I'm only acting this way towards Sam in order to protect myself ... 'cause I wouldn't be able to deal with another rejection from him. Two's my limit, after all I have and don't laugh, my principles even if they do make a helluva cold bedmate. I'm so in love with Sam, that it makes my head spin. In fact, the way I feel about him really overwhelms me as I never dreamt that I - La Push's biggest player on record - could ever feel this way about anyone. But I do. And now I'm finally getting a taste of payback. How all those girls I'd strung along in the past must've felt when I'd led them on only to end up with nothing but disappointment, sorrow and regret. And in a way I deserve it, especially when I look back at how much of a thoughtless, selfish prick I used to be back then.

So, you could say when it comes to rejection, I'm working on the "three strikes and you're out" principle, just to protect myself from any further pain and that's unfortunate considering Sam only needs to jilt me one more time to screw things up for the pair of us ... All I can do is hope and pray that he won't fuck up and do just that ... especially now, when I'm vulnerable and not as strong as I used to be. Not when I and ... and our kid need his support the most.

"Our kid" ... Jeez ! I never imagined I'd even think let alone say those words. The idea of someone as reckless, fiery and unpredictable as me with a cub of his own is sheer madness. It's just fucking crazy and I'm still struggling to get my head around it. That I'm actually gonna have to face up to my responsibilities, be a parent and that I'll be the one carrying the little rugrat for the next couple of months. Only it's not a goddamn idea any more, is it ? It's stark freakin' reality. And honestly ? That's seriously freaking me out. It scares the living daylights out of me. I mean, I love a good practical joke as much as the next wolf but this ain't funny ... or fair. Well, it sure ain't fair on my cub. Poor little bastard ... For starters, since when is it fair to saddle him - yup, for some reason I've got it in my head that my firstborn's gonna be a boy - with someone like me for a parent ? A selfish, gobby troublemaker ? What hope does he have when he has La Push's biggest screw up as his dad ... or should that be "mom" ? Fuck ! This is doing my head in ... Fate must've been smoking some serious dope to come up with this dodgy curveball, 's all ... And I'm shitting myself over how folk around here will react once they find out I've been knocked up ... how they'll treat me and even worse, how they'll act towards the little one. Something tells me that Leah and Jake already know that I'm up the duff, so that's one less thing to stress over. But the very thought of having to tell my parents - well, the old man'll go ape when he hears and will probably kick me out - isn't something I'm looking forward to. Same goes with the Pack and the Elders.

But the one person I dread facing is the one that has the most right to know ... and that's Sam. And god only knows how he'll take the news ... I'm genuinely bricking it at the thought of having to tell him and how he'll react. The real kicker is that La Push's most notorious player's actually living in fear of rejection and that the one person who gives his life any meaning will end up hating him even more than he already does ... That my Sam will believe I'm lying and that I'm trying to trap him, when nothing could be further from the truth. I'd happily accept any terms Sam'd care to offer, if it meant I got to be a part of his life, no matter how small.

God ! Why the hell do I have to be such a perverse, stubborn s.o.b. ? I knew I'd made a goddamn mistake when I told Sam to stay the fuck away from me. I could tell by the hurt that clouded his golden-brown eyes that I'd screwed up. But I've been hurt so often in the past by other people, that it's become ingrained for me to inflict pain on others before they get the chance to do the same to me. It's my self-defence mechanism ... only this time it's backfired on me. Big time. Not only did I upset Sam, but I also hurt myself in the process and really it shouldn't come as much of a surprize considering how much of a fuck up I really am ... I can't help feeling suffocated by my emotions. By their intensity. It's like I'm in a permanent state of confusion and I dunno where I'm going half the time. And if that's not bad enough, I've also got the joys of raging hormones to look forward to as well which I'm dying to experience ... not !

I know shit happens, but why is it ever since I turned seventeen it always happens to me ? That crap's dumped on me from a great height ? Why do I always end up copping it in the neck ? It's like life or fate just loves to screw with me ? To mess with my head ... and now my heart. I never asked for all this. Didn't want any of this shit. Never sought it in any way, shape or form. I didn't ask to be one of La Push's guardians ... to be a fucking wolf. Didn't ask to be forcibly tied down to one person for the rest of my life and to have to depend on their good will for my happiness. Nor did I want to be anyone's bitch, never mind find I could actually be a bitch and carry my own kids ... especially at such a young age. At nineteen. When I'm too irresponsible, too hot-headed to be able to deal with it ... when I'm clearly not ready. When I should be living my life to the max. Totally footloose and fancy free. Not be consumed with need, want and love for my best friend. 'Cause right now, the way I see it is ... Hell ! I'm not living. This isn't living. It's an existence ... and barely one at that. I'm just going through the motions. Keeping my head above water. Struggling to survive. Just praying - hoping - for even the slightest sign of affection or at least friendship, from the one person who's able to give my life any meaning. And it's so hard, y'know ? Having to put on this front all the fucking time ... that I am dealing, that I'm coping with all this shit. I hate putting on a brave face over something that slowly, but surely, tearing me apart. 'Cause in the cold light of day, I'm not coping. I'm really not. I may have convinced some of the others I'm dealing with everything, but that's 'cause I'm a pretty good actor and I've got them fooled ... but in all honesty, I'm lying to them and even worse, I'm lying to myself. I'm betraying myself the longer I keep denying everything and by holding my tongue about how I feel towards Sam.

Guess I really should bite the bullet and tell Sam what's really going on ... what's bugging me and why I'm acting all crazy. I just need to find the nerve to face him and 'fess up ... I need to grow a pair and quit being a wuss ... I have to tell Sam he's my world ... That I love him and ... and in a couple of months time, he's gonna be a dad. Easier said than done, huh ?

XXXXX

Jared's pov:

OMG ! Sam sure has it bad ...

It's kinda funny in a way, seeing our cool, level-headed, smart Alpha act so irrationally ... to feel so much passion and need for someone else. To see Sam consumed by emotions that are far stronger and more intense than anything he ever felt for Emily. To watch him behave like ... well, he'd tear me a new one if he heard me say never mind think it, a lovesick puppy. Don't get me wrong, I'm not taking the piss out of him in any way, it's just strange seeing our Sam like this. Weird, but good ... and for it to be Paul, our resident hot-head and ex-womanizer, to be the one that makes Sam feel this way is just staggering. In fact, it's pretty incredible to see two of the Pack's most virile and dominant wolves pining away for each other, even though one of them's far too headstrong to admit that he really needs the other.

So, that's why I'm here. Standing outside the Lahote's residence, two days after Sam came to me for advice having found out about our Beta imprinting on him. Scoping the lay of the land at my lovelorn Alpha's request or more accurately, pleas, to make sure his mate's ok. Yup, it seems for once Sam's heeding my advice and has reluctantly backed off so Paul can calm down. Just as well really, 'cause like the rest of the Pack, I've seen just how vicious Paul can be when he's upset or hurting and it's never a good thing to be at the receiving end of his fury. He can be an absolute unforgiving and unreasonable bastard when caught up in one of his rages and thankfully, Sam's smart enough to realize if he wants to make a go of things with Paul, he has to show that he respects his mate by giving him space. Time to cool off and let go of his anger. Otherwise if he doesn't, he hasn't a cat in hell's chance of winning Paul over.

I found P in the back yard, chopping wood. He stood with his back facing me. I'm not sure if "engrossed" was the right word for it, but he was so caught up in his work that he failed to hear me approach. I coughed softly so as not to startle him, warning him of my presence. Paul spun around and the large axe slipped from his numb fingers, falling onto the ground next to the large woodpile with a dull thud. I was immediately struck by how tired and fragile our rough, tough Beta looked. There was an air of vulnerability about him and that combined with the sudden change in his physique and the sorrow which tinged his dark, velvety eyes, shocked me.

"Hi," I spoke softly, still shaken by his appearance.

"H-Hey ..." Paul eyed me warily, his brow furrowed in confusion. "So ... you gonna tell me why you're here ?"

Slowly shaking my head, I couldn't help but grin at his bluntness. His "just cut the crap and get down to business" attitude. This was the Paul the Pack all knew and loved. The one who didn't tolerate any bullshit and preferred dealing with the truth, no matter how brutal or painful that could be.

"We-ell ... you've been a bit of a lone wolf lately and I figured it'd be cool if we hung out and caught up on things, y'know ?"

Paul's eyes narrowed sceptically and I could almost hear how fast his thoughts were racing. If there was one thing I know that's a dead cert, it's never to underestimate Paul Lahote's intelligence. The guy's smart. Real smart. He has a brain and isn't afraid to use it and that makes him dangerous. He looked away and replied with an equally suspicious "Hmmm ..." which was followed by a fairly lengthy pause.

Paul suddenly sighed and wearily rubbed his nape, before finally meeting my steady gaze. "I guess you heard then ?"

There was no point denying it. Paul was no fool and wouldn't believe me in any case. "I heard- "

"That I imprinted ... on Sam. That I'm so screwed ..."

"I ... I just wish you'd come to me, bro. You didn't have to go through all this alone ... you could've talked to me. I'd've listened ... Fuck ! Y'know I've got your back, Paul. Always. No matter what ... You should've come to me seeing as I've a rough idea what you're going through- "

"No. That's where you're wrong, Jay. You've no fucking idea what I'm going through. Not a damn clue. Your imprint accepted you. Loves and wants to be with you. Mine doesn't. He ... He rejected me ! And it hurts, Jay ... the pain's so bad that ..." Paul's husky voice cracked and to my dismay, I saw that his dark eyes glistened with unshed tears. He raised his right hand and absently began to rub his chest, directly above his heart, in an attempt to ease said pain. "Sam doesn't give a rat's ass about me. He certainly doesn't want me. He never will. After all, who in their right mind would want someone as worthless as me, huh ? Someone who's not considered worthy of being loved ... Not even by their own fucking imprint. It hurts like fucking hell !"

I closed my eyes and sighed. It was all to clear that Paul believed every single word that he'd said. That Sam didn't care for or want him. You only had to look at Paul to see how devastated he was. As well as the physical pain he was experiencing. That Sam's "rejection" was slowly but surely killing him. And that's when I came to a decision. I had to set him straight ... I was going to put in a good word on Sam's behalf. To plead his case for him. To make Paul understand that was far from the case, That Sam did care. And wanted him. Desperately.

Even a blind man could hardly fail to see that Paul was pining for Sam. And the longer he denied himself and the imprint ... well, lets just say staying away from Sam was clearly taking its toll on him.

"That's not true, y'know ?" I replied quietly. "You've got Sam pegged wrong. He does care about you. More than you ever know ... Hell ! If you'd seen him earlier, you'd soon realize how deeply he cares and how badly he wants yo- "

Paul gave a disbelieving snort and shook his head in vehement denial. "Bullshit ! If he cares so much ... if he wants me as badly as you say, then how come he's not here now ? How come he's not pleading his case instead of you, huh ?"

It was my turn to give an incredulous snort. "Huh ! Believe me, Sam would've been here faster than a vamp raiding a blood bank, but he thought he should respect your needs and give you the space you wanted."

"What I need ... what I want, Jay, is for him to be here. With me !" Paul replied heatedly before his shoulders slumped dejectedly. "But he's not, is he ? He's not ..."

"But he wanted to be here." I softly insisted, cautiously closing the gap between us. "Doesn't that count for anything ? That he'd be here in an instant ... if you'd just open up a little to him. If you'd actually let him in and told him how you really feel-"

"What ? And risk being rejected again ? I'm not strong enough for that, Jay ... Twice was bad enough- "

I sighed and carded restless fingers through my cropped hair. "But he's not gonna to do that to you, Paul. Not again. Not when he knows that you lo-like ..."

"That I love him ?" Paul snapped, impatiently dashing away the tears which had silently began to fall with the back of his hand. "Yeah, right ... whatever ..."

"Oh, for fuck's sake ! Just give him a chance, bro. If not for him, then do it for yourself. Don't you think you deserve to be happy ? Hell ! Sam's accepted the imprint and wants to give it a shot. He really wants to be with you and make amends. So quit being a stubborn prick and let yourself be happy for once. Just take what you want and don't question it. Sam's more than willing - shit ! I'd even say he's pretty damn happy - to try and make a go of things with you ... All he's asking for is a chance ... a chance to make you happy. So, what have you got to lose ?"

"Everything ?" Paul muttered under his breath before a pensive looked crossed his face. Seeing the most confident, arrogant member of the Pack look so unsure of himself, so anxious, was a bit of an eye-opener. And when I think about it, it was almost as shocking as our big, brave Alpha transforming into a lovesick, young pup. If I hadn't seen both of them act so out of character, I wouldn't have believed it possible.

"Just do it, bro. Go for it. You'd be a damn fool not to. Besides," I smirked as I recalled how flustered and impatient a normally calm and unruffled Sam had been when I last saw him, "unless you come to a decision p.d.q., I doubt Sam'll be able to hold out for much longer before he comes looking for you, Paul ... He's struggling to stay away from you as it is."

Paul's eyes widened in genuine surprize and I fought to hide a smile as a glimmer of hope began to flicker within those intelligent orbs. It looked as if I'd given my feisty Beta plenty to chew over where Sam was concerned and I could only hope that I'd done enough to goad him into doing something positive where his imprint was concerned.

"So ... enough of the serious shit," I grinned, throwing an arm nonchalantly across his shoulders. "Forget about work. I fancy a swim. You game ?" And before he could protest, I snatched a couple of towels that had been drying on the washing line, grabbed his arm and hauled his ass towards First Beach.

XXXXX

Two days later.

Paul's pov:

It was just gone six o'clock when I finally got back home from Forks. I'd gone over there to fetch some groceries for mom and for once, luckily, managed to catch a ride back with Embry and Quil.

As soon as I walked in through the door, I sensed something was wrong. The old man was yelling at my mom. The tone of his voice was cold and malicious and his words were badly slurred. It was all too clear he'd been hitting the grog, was in an extremely foul mood and taking his temper out on my poor mom ... again. Then I heard her plead softly, begging him to let her go. To stop hitting her. All of this was followed by the sickening sound of fists hitting flesh. Repeatedly. Yet not once did I hear her scream ... only beg tearfully for him to stop and for him to ignore her.

Hearing her broken pleas made something within me snap. I burst into the kitchen in time to see my dad viciously backhand her, causing her to fall in a sobbing heap on the floor. He immediately went after her and she cowered, trembling violently as he backed her into a corner. The shopping bags I'd been carrying thudded onto the floor and I darted forward, blocking his path from his quarry. There was only one word that would accurately describe my mom's appearance ... she was a goddamn mess. Her green and black plaid shirt was torn and revealed numerous fading bruises, including the marks of his hands around her throat as he'd tried to choke her. Her left eye was already red, swollen and partially closed; her right cheek bled from where his ring had caught her as he'd backhanded her earlier and her lower lip also bled freely. And when I saw her tentatively cradle her left wrist and heard her whimper softly, I lost it. Completely. My mom was such a kind, gentle woman who didn't deserve any of this shit ... She deserved far better. She deserved to be loved.

"Out of my way, boy," my dad snarled, his gaze fixed with wild intent at my terrified mother. I heard her scramble backwards until her back connected with the wall. There was nowhere she could run to. She was cornered like a frightened animal.

"No ! If you want her, you'll have to come through me first." I growled back at him, my eyes narrowed with hate, as my fists clenched and unclenched time and time again.

"You disobeying me, you insolent little bastard ?"

"Too fucking right I am ! Besides, the only bastard I see here is you !" I goaded, trying to distract him from mom, who was currently trying to blend in to the wall and desperately attempting not to draw further attention to herself. "And if I had the choice of being a bastard rather than be your son, I'd gladly be one ... any day of the week. You're nothing but scum. A cowardly drunk, who thinks he's a big man 'cause he beats up his own wife. Well, I've got news for you, you worthless crock of shit ... You're no man. You're nowhere near being one ... You're a pathetic excuse of a human being. A monster. A waste of fucking space. If you wanna be a big man so much, why don't you try picking on someone your own size, huh ? Someone like me- "

I suddenly felt his fist connect with my jaw. Hard. Dazed, I shook my head only to feel his fists strike me repeatedly. Then a particularly hard blow struck me in the gut, causing me to double over in pain. Winded, I raised my head and sneered at him, before spitting blood onto the tiled floor.

"What ? That all you got, old man ? Fuck ! Is that the best you can do ? I've had girls hit me much harder than that, for fuck's sake ?" I taunted him as my body began to shake, hoping that it wouldn't take long for my wolf to come out to play. "Well, c'mon then ? What the hell are you waiting for ? You think you're the "big I am" around here ... well, prove it ..."

"Why you little piece of shit !" my dad roared furiously, before lashing out at me once more. "You honestly think you can talk to me like that and get away with it ? Well, d'ya ?"

By now, I was starting to feel distinctly uneasy ... and confused. My body still trembled violently and I wasn't in control of my anger ... it controlled me. But the worst thing of all ? For some unknown reason, I was unable to phase. My wolf was missing in action. And the fact that it was inexplicably A.W.O.L. had me distracted. And being the devious old swine that he was, my old man was - even in his drunken state - only too quick to take advantage of my lapse in concentration. He immediately struck me and I felt my legs buckle. I fell in an ungainly heap and lay sprawled on the floor, having hit my right temple on the way down. Grimacing with pain, I felt blood begin to slowly trickle from the wound on my temple and my vision began to blur and as I struggled to stay awake, one of the last things I remember hearing was my mom finally screaming at my dad. It was a sound that was full of anger and fear. A protective mother's anger towards him ... and a caring mother's fear for me ...

Then I heard him lumber unsteadily towards me, his thick, heavy work boots dragging across and heedlessly scuffing the floor's surface; the way he inhaled deeply and the stench of alcohol on his rancid breath. My stomach lurched uneasily and I managed to drag my arm to rest protectively over my lower abdomen.

"No ! For the love of God, Frank ... STOP ! You'll kill him ! "

And that's when I knew I was in serious trouble ... I was a dead wolf.