Dine and Dash

by KittyTylz

Bella gets dared dine&dash but is caught by the restaurants owner, Edward Cullen. He's a 19-year-old dangerously attractive but deadly gangster. The well connected leader of the Shadow Fangs, he also happens to be the enemy of the gang her best friend Jacob belongs to and she's stuck in his territory to avoid a permanent record. AH/AU,Possessward,Torch Awards Peoples Choice Winner

6. Shouldn't Fight Fate

Disclaimer:All publicly recognizable characters, quotes, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners and are simply used under 'fair use'. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement intended. This story is written for the legally recognized adult population. According to the e-mail response I received from them, FF doesn't allow gratuitous descriptions of sex and extensive graphic violence.

Authors Note: Hi all, sorry about yesterday, presentation got messed up and we spent the day in front of computers trying to fix it, didn't want to see my laptop after that. Any new readers should know this was my turning-point chapter. As I previously stated when I started this story, I've taken multiple psychology courses, the vast majority of my friends are majors in the field and I did take the time to make inquiries with my Prof before I wrote not only this chapter but this story. I wanted to write a story about something real so I've chosen to use subject matter we have knowledge on. My proper angst chap, don't continue reading this if this is not your cup of tea. Hugs to JustJJ and awesomella and as always thank you to everyone who reads. 7's on it's way, Love Kat.

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Dine and Dash

*~*~* Chapter Six – Shouldn't Fight Fate *~*~*

"Someday you're gonna look back on this moment of your life as such a sweet time of grieving. You'll see that you were in mourning and your heart was broken, but your life was changing..." (Elizabeth Gilbert)

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When it's time to get down from a high, reality storms in at a rushed pace, destroying everything in its path. That was what was happening right now. Reality smacked me in the face— hard.

Jared was here. I was clinging on to Edward like a life preserver.

Irony… Hypocrisy... Fear… Anxiety… Betrayal… Panic…

I had to get out of there— fast.

Tearing my hand out of Edward's I ran, never turning back to gauge the reactions of the two males behind me. I followed my mind; conflicted feelings tore at it, inebriating my ability to think rationally, but I knew I was fleeing. I knew I had to flee, for the well being of everyone involved, I could not allow myself to be caught.

Through the dark and in the cold, with home and heaven behind me, fleeing what I knew and what had pulled me in.

My breaths came in gasps, tugging at my chest painfully. Every breath felt like sandpaper was grating at my lungs. The fire in my legs matching the burn in my chest but I couldn't afford to slow down, I was running from reality, life as I knew it hanging in the balance if I lost the race.

It could all be over. They could walk out on me too… I'd be slapping them in the face.

Cutting into the forest, it was my dream all over again. The nightmare, only real. The fear and adrenaline were the same. The need to reach home was still filling me with desperation. One difference was what I was running from here… it was something new…

Me.

Everything. About. Me.

~.~.~

My fisted fingers were numb with cold by the time I reached the front door of my house. The porch was dimly lit by the streetlight, but that was about the only illumination available; meaning Dad wasn't home yet. A conflict between relief and disappointment wedged itself in my throat as I stumbled up the steps and kicked aside the welcome mat. Struggling to get a proper grip on the spare key, I swayed a little, my head feeling too heavy. My trembling fingers finally jammed the key into the door and pried it open. Shutting it hard behind me, I pounded my head against it repeatedly, and in that moment the helmet personified him. The darkness behind the tinted shield heightened in the unlit house, the blow to my head absorbed by the helmet. I wasn't hurt. This was safety.

This was crazy.

I was crazy.

Gripping it hard, I pulled it off and flung it into the hallway wall, refusing its protection. I couldn't live in a bubble. There was truth to face. I almost had to face it today because I let myself dream like an idiot it wasn't what it was. Reality, this was a disaster, a dangerous disaster that could cost me everything. It was as far from smart as I could get. How'd I let myself get into this fix and let it go this far?

Thinking was pointless. I either didn't know the answer or my brain was stopping me because I didn't want to know it.

Sliding down the door and crumbling on the floor, slowly my fingers traced up the smooth painted bumps of the wall in search of the light. The brightness caused me to wince. I preferred the dark, my eyes too sensitive for the alertness that coupled illumination and the sadness it was bringing me. This was real, real was supposed to be hard, I had to stay away from him… I would my family means to much to me.

Picking myself up, with a deep breath I trudged forward to the foot of the staircase where the helmet had landed. I smack my head against it begrudgingly at my own stupidity and walk up to my room. Great I brought home his helmet, he's gonna be thrilled. This'll make it much easier to keep a distance you idiot!

Taking off his hoodie and shirt, I tuck them along with the helmet into my closet. I roughly throw some of my clothes over it, covering it up on the off chance that I open my closet while dad was around. Blindly, I grabbed a tank top and shoved it over my chest.

I needed a smoke. Something, anything to calm my nerves. If Jared recognized me he was probably going to show up any second and murder me. He'd never forgive me. None of them would! And how could I expect them to? I'd been so caught up in the thrill of not having any expectations placed on me for the first time in my life, that I didn't realize the person giving me that freedom, that breathing space, was one of the Wolves first and only expectations of me. 'Stay away from the Shadow Fangs, they're dangerous!'

How could I have been so stupid? Was I really that desperate for a normalcy-freebee that I accepted Edward into my life at some point? My family was counting on me. I had dreams. For them. For me. Their dreams were all for my benefit. And my only dream was to be the one who could protect them from the wound of Renee's cold bitter accusations, her cutting curses and her mocking cynicism of their very life and achievements. She'd practically spat in their faces and crushed the things they were most proud of under her shoe, grinding it into insignificant dust before she left. She was gone but her black shadow of insult and curse always loomed over head. Jake and the guys had protected, loved and nurtured me my entire life, expecting nothing in return except my welfare, when they had no obligation to me. We weren't related. We shared no blood. I was a whiney toddler who cramped their friendship. They owed me nothing and yet they'd given me everything.

Was I really willing to give all that up for a guy who I hardly knew, a rival criminal who was looking for a way to hurt those I cared about?

My heart constricted.

Now, I was faced with the harsh reality that I could very well have lost everything tonight. The trust of my adopted brothers, my best friends… their love… The fear of abandonment was far too much, causing my breath to catch in desperation.

I could handle a mother who hated me, a mother who left me. I think. But I wouldn't be able to handle losing them. I was too young with Renee, but the guys… I'd been with them my whole life. I wouldn't survive if they abandoned me… especially, if I had pushed them to it. I love them too much.

Oh Christ. This was what could happen tonight. This very night could be the one in which I would succumb the horrible truth of having lost everything… everything that matters anyway.

I fisted my hair and tugged painfully because even now, without meaning to, without any actual thought behind it, my subconscious mind grouped Edward into that 'everything'.

It pissed me off that it kept happening and that I had no control over it… it pissed me off that I didn't understand it. Why in my subconscious, despite me wanting the exact opposite, he held such importance in such a short space of time.

If it was true and his revenge was to attack the Wolves through me, then his purpose was fulfilled tonight, there'd be no need for me anymore. This thought only annoyed me further, because I shouldn't worry if Edward Cullen was removed from my life. It'd make my life infinitely simpler, and yet, he still crept into my thoughts… my thoughts that were filled with all those who meant the world to me and somehow he slipped into the category.

Turning to my nightstand I saw the letters blink through the darkness, 5:47. I needed a distraction, anything to slow down the frantic beating of my heart. Grabbing my bag I sifted out my Marlboro and moved to dad's room. The balcony facing the back was a perfect spot to hide and smoke on the days when I was home.

Shutting the slide-door behind me, I lit up content with the knowledge that the smoke stench couldn't work its way inside.

It's frosty outside and mist flows out my mouth when smoke doesn't. Slowly and steadily, my pulse returned to normal and I welcomed the mind numbing sensation that came with the nicotine calm. The redundant task – inhaling – exhaling – watching the smoke rise in leisurely puffs – repeat – held a happy familiarity. At least that was one thing that wouldn't change no matter what I did…

I huff. How exactly did I become a pawn in the push and pull of the two gangs? Had they just been normal groups of guys I would be able to be friends with whoever I wanted and not have to worry over what the repercussions would be. I sigh, shaking my head. But things were how they were and I was caught in the in between no matter what I wanted. It would be me who would have to choose and lose even though this was between them. It didn't matter what I wanted, it was life and I had to deal with it.

Shutting my eyes tightly, I suck hard, making sure to get every last bit of my final pull of my sweet release, then I hide the butt deep within the soil of a plant and walk back into dad's room.

My jacket mistakenly catches on the corner of dad's worktable and slides over the top when I tug. It causes some of the contents to fall off the side.

"Shit." I mumble as I squat to pick them up again.

A pen and a few loose pages.

With a heave I straightened myself, and scrutinized the top to make sure everything looked exactly the same as before.

I stop abruptly.

From the corner of my eye, dark colored ink caught my attention. Hidden, but not forgotten, judging by its position under a stack of Charlie's work files. I didn't know what it was but my hand moved to it like a magnet. It was like gravity and it took me by surprise, I found myself pulling the mystery square free from its prison. My eyes stung, hard and fierce, as more and more of it was revealed, and I could finally make out what it was.

Old and matted, a picture that I'd never seen before. A big green, twinkling Christmas tree, adorned with smiley ornament snowmen, fairies, flakes and stars. A glorious wide spread winged angel atop of it, her soft eyes and smile directing blessing to the two people at the foot of the tree she graces… A young woman and child no more than six months old…

A jumping jack musical box sat in front of the woman. Her legs tucked underneath her as she supported and steadied a bouncing, chubby baby on her lap. With small gift wrapped boxes strewn here and there around them, and some torn bits of sparkle covering the baby's thick sock covered toes. The woman's eyes crinkled at the sides she was smiling so broad down at the baby she cradled.

It was me and my mother, at least what I think she looked like, it's been so long I don't know if her face in my dream is dreamt up too. I stare down at it with heavy laden eyes… I was in her lap, really in her lap… I had a toothless laugh at the bobbing Jack-in-the-box, as she gazed at me with a happy, beaming, radiant smile, a smile of absolute love as she held me to her, making sure to support me should I fall.

I dropped the first tear and tried to quiet the rest down. I didn't need this. Not tonight, I was already mindfucked I didn't want more now. I shook my head. How could this be? How could there have been a time when she'd looked at me like that? She looked happy... she looked like she loved me... How could she leave me? Was it all an act? And if it wasn't, did she know that she'd never look at me like that again soon? Did she know how badly she'd wish me dead a few years down the line?

The image physically burned me. Inadvertently, I fingered the burn on my wrist, recalling the numbing fascination that pulled away my emotional turmoil this morning. Would it work again? How had it done it the first time? It literally sucked everything negative out my mind, it was remarkable, unfathomable.

Dropping the photo back to its place, I walked with suddenly unsteady steps down the stairs and into the kitchen.

I was no chef but it would be nice to try and cook dad a meal. It would make him happy, with my skills I'd probably get a hearty laugh out of him too, and more importantly, the mundane task of not setting the house on fire would keep my mind occupied.

Turning on the kitchen light, I washed my hands in the sink, my hands moving too vigorously to be considered normal. I took a deep breath; the room was spinning ever so slightly around me. I couldn't be sick, I'd been fine this morning; I shook myself trying to get past the irritating feeling. I was fine. I was fucking fine. I dried my hands off in a dishtowel and moved to the refrigerator. Steak and eggs were easy, I could do that. Right? Scrunching my nose as I grabbed the steaks out the freeze, I hoped the answer was yes.

Dad would be home any minute now. Not wanting to waste anytime I popped the steaks into the microwave, hitting the defrost button. I put some butter into a frying pan and let it sit on the counter. Grabbing a knife, I turned back to the microwave noticing the thick seal covering the meat was on the brink of popping.

"Shoot!" I cussed different profanities in my mind as I sprint quickly to right my unusual mistake, "I didn't pierce the bag!"

It quickly becomes the least of my worries. My usually light feet place firmly on the fragments of ice that had melted from the packaging near the refrigerator and in seconds I meet the floor with a heave. A shrill shriek filled the kitchen as the blade clasped tightly in my hand sandwiched itself between the hard ground and my body weight. It broke skin and pierced my flesh. Almost symbolically, I cried out in fierce pain simultaneously as the bag finally burst with a violent bang.

Inching through the ache, I moved my unscathed hand to stop the appliance. The softened steak sat pretty, waiting to be cooked, while raw hurt shot through my arm. Leaning against the counter, I fisted my wrist trying to cut off the blood circulation to my palm, hoping it would ease the pain.

It didn't.

Hissing through my teeth, I brought my eyes down to my slit palm.

Curiously it did something I would have never in a million years anticipated… it caused everything to stop. An expected moment of utter peace; wrong, wrong, wrong tranquility but it was there nevertheless.

I looked at the steady stream of blood leaking out in fascination. It was a surreal other world. It had to be, because in the real world I wouldn't be doing this, doing nothing to clean it or stop the thick flow of crimson that was dripping between my fingers so steadily that it was dropping in tiny childlike pitter patters to the floor. In the real world I'd be stopping it, cleaning it, taping it, calling someone; anything but watching idly. Looking on at it because suddenly… peculiarly… hypnotically… nothing hurt, it was like I wasn't even there anymore.

I felt poison pour out of me, years of poison. It wasn't just blood, it was her, it was DNA being expelled. She wanted to get rid of me. Now she was being removed, out my very bloodstream, until I was left untainted by all her choices, all her words, even her relation. I wasn't Bella, it was a clean slate.

A beautifully numbing pain filled me, pushing out of me all the bad and leaving me in a state of calm, where no outside thoughts could penetrate these new protective walls. I loved this wall. Slowly, raising the blade again, I lightly traced the marred red on my palm to the dark cut opened line that was its source. The dark, ruby color captivated me. The sharp, stinging sensation it had caused kept me focused, demanding my full attention, refused to let my mind wonder to anything besides it. I had no pain on the inside, just the outside. It was physical, physical is so easy, it heals so quickly, physical doesn't even matter because with physical everyone else is safe, my choices can't affect them, the only person this could hurt was me.

Then my mind sang in a new pain as unconsciously the blade pressed too hard and lightly pricked my skin for a second time. I winced at the pain but my body in its delirium, the high that accompanied this new feeling of weightlessness, moved on its own. My blade wielding hand pulled down, faintly ripping the skin apart like a quiet plea for absolution. From what, I had no idea. It was a sorrowful symphony of angels singing in my mind as the pain, sharply coursing through me, sucked from me the emotional turmoil I fought for years unknown to anyone, its full extent unknown to even me.

Slowly, I scrutinized the quickening of the red stream as I continued pulling, letting the blade shred my skin from top to bottom in a slithering curve, following the natural dark line it fell on, running parallel to the first incision, a perfect neat opening… it fell on my life line…

"Bells, I'm home!"

I started, pulled out of a trance. I didn't know why my heart hammered like thunder in my chest. My head quickly snapped in the direction of dad's voice as he entered the house and per routine headed to the stairs towards his room.

It was only then that the pain shot through my hand and I looked back to it. For the first time, realizing what had transpired, no— not transpired, what I'd done.

A pool of blood dripped and soaked into the midsection of my shirt. Only red stared back at me.

What the fuck had I done?...

"Oh my, God!"I kept chanting, my voice unable to go higher than a whisper.

It was a dream, but I wasn't fucking waking up. It couldn't really be happening. With blurry vision I grabbed a dish towel, clutching it tightly in my fist. Fear and shock, threatened to spill in heavy drops from my eyes, bile rose in my throat as I frantically tried to wipe the blood off my shirt and hand. Everything was out of control and I still wasn't waking up. A tearless whimper rips out my fast closing throat as I desperately start wiping harder, faster, more furious, trying to make the red disappear. It didn't. It wouldn't.

"Oh, God… Oh, no, no, no… Wake up, wake up, God damn it Bella wake up!"

"The station was quiet today. I'm surprised." Dad speaks from his room.

I hear the clanks of his boots upstairs as he peels them off. A choked sob escapes me, petrified from my heart to my soul; it wasn't a dream…

I gave up and fell to the ground wiping the streaks of crimson that had dropped onto it. I didn't have time to let it sink in.

I had to hide it, dad would be down any second.

The blood on the floor is easier, it disappears like it was never there in the first place.

I wipe my face with my good hand and shake my head so that my hair does some damage control and covers my face enough for everything to appear normal. Wiping the blood doesn't erase the inside and shaking my head doesn't help there either, it makes the nausea worse and the dizziness from earlier more pronounced.

"I spoke to Principal Green today, apparently he's thinking of upping the rules at school to stop some practical jokers. Something about a phone call and some b—"

I don't hear the rest of what he's saying, because I can hear him beginning to walk down the stairs. Clutching the rag in a fist, I mask my pain, putting on a straight face and turn to the steaks in the microwave.

"I—," it hurts bad, I tighten my hold on the rag, hoping it will help, "—was thinking of doing steaks and eggs, but the steaks had their own plan." I grit my teeth and smile.

I force away the burn in my palm and speak as I normally would when dad enters. He looks so tired I feel horrible, the stations been overworking him recently, I ease my jaw and make sure the smile is flawless. Fuck the pain. I think smartly and know my father can't be fooled for long so I turn as soon as I can. Walking along the counter, my back to him, I keep my hand carefully, discreetly hidden against my stomach as I pretend to rearrange the jars. Inconspicuously, I keep myself cloaked from his eyes and thankfully Dad chuckles, his eyes on the microwave because he's sane and doesn't think he has any reason to assume his daughter is any different.

"Don't worry kiddo, I'll handle this one," he says, as he pries it open.

I swallow, needing to form the words properly, easily. It's difficult because, it's not the pain that's holding me back, it's how shaken up I feel. This was huge, this was horrific, I didn't know why or how it happened but I was petrified by it all.

"Thanks dad," I placed all the ingredients I knew he'll use on the counter and continued, "I'm just gonna wash up a bit and finish up some homework."

He nodded, working his magic on my too defrosted steaks, and I snuck out the kitchen impeccably 'normal'.

The second I'm out though, I scamper towards the staircase. Searing burning in my palm, pain shooting up my arm through my veins, I was practically lumbering up step by step. If I wanted, I'd be able to trace the path my pulse follows up my neck to pound deafeningly in my head, that's how loud it is.

The bathroom door was slightly ajar. Stepping inside I shut the door quietly. My body sagged, I leaned my head against it and let go of the rag, closing my eyes.

I won't cry, I won't. I'm scared, yes, but I won't cry. I keep willing myself not to… not yet… it wasn't safe yet…

Slowly, I peel off my marred tank, wincing slightly at the pain when I have to use my injured hand. Pushing my tank to the bottom of the hamper, along with the rag, I hastily get into the shower. Sliding the shower shut, my back pressed rigidly against the unyielding cold glass, I turn on the spray full, and finally… finally… let tiny traitorous tears break the confines of my lids, hidden and masked by the loud running water as they slip out the corners of my eyes.

Hiccups mix with them, showing my fear, showing my disgust as I try my best to calm down my labored breathing. The twin wounds blazing fire in my hand, causing me to fixate on only one rational thought right now... What the hell is wrong with me!…

The spinning gets faster around me, my head is swimming with scary thoughts of self loathing. Fisting my hands into balls in my hair, I turn into the door and scream into my shoulder. The scalding water beats down on me relentlessly and just like in the outside world, no one comes to save me here from myself, the thing I might most need to get away from. There was no hero. No one heard my call, or saw my pain that I hid. They thought it was gone, gone years ago, back when I finally stopped crying the way I have these past two days, granted it was for completely different reasons.

Muffled by the running water and my body, my scream died. I breathed in through my nose and calmed down. I saw the blood trickle down to disappear into the drain. Lifting my eyes I see the mirror through the shower, my distorted image on the foggy mirror is looking back at me and that's what breaks my resolve. The blood that ran out my wound dripped in weak pink streams from my hair to my face like tears of blood. I shrieked and backed away from the door as if that would help, my eyes shut tightly against the image in the mirror, trying futilely to reject it. I wanted it to stop, everything, I wanted to wake up!

My arms went limp, falling from my hair to hang at my sides, my legs no longer steady, I sank to the shower floor letting the water wash away the evidence of my embarrassing, horribly scary bout of weakness. I felt broken on the inside. Dear God, what was happening to me…

~.~.~D&D~.~.~

Like clockwork, I made sure to seal my hand today just as I had last night. I woke with the damn birds and did the laundry before dad had chance to see the hamper. I felt a fuckton better today, all due to a hopeful relief that filled my belly when I saw the little scabbing that had formed on my hand.

Like pretty, chocolate frosting to cover up a disastrous birthday cake, it ebbed my worry, allowing me to pretend like nothing had happened. It would disappear soon, and I'd forget it happened. The nagging worry that it had happened at all, was still in my mind somewhere, but I kept myself busy trying to push it aside.

Dad was already at the station, this new case had him in and out like crazy. Despite not having an appetite I went to the kitchen with the intent of shoveling some food into my system. It doesn't work out because there's a sharp rap at the door. Startled out of the mind fuck I've been since yesterday, the day that had progressively gone from bad to worse I walk over and looked through the window. There stood the broad, tan frame of Jared on the porch. Apparently today was fated to be no different.

"Bell, it's me open up!" He bellows.

My heart rate picks up at his loud and overwhelming presence outside the flimsy wood. If he'd recognized me yesterday this was about to turn into judgment day. In a way maybe it's a good thing, I'd atoned in the form of blood and torture for my sins yesterday, right? My sarcastic humor falls flat. I look to the ceiling, take a huge calming breath to brace myself as I make my way to the door.

I steeled myself for the worse and adjusted my long sleeves, making sure the gauze wouldn't show. "Coming." I say loud enough for him to hear on the other side and quicken my steps when he pounds on the door. This can't be good. My fear for myself however, flies out the window when I swing open the door. My problems no longer matter at all, I've got a full blown case of sibling worry. He looks banged up bad.

"JC!" I gasp and want to deck him, like I usually do when I see them looking like this. My hands however as usual fly out to try and help anyways. I touch the gash on his cheek, he's had far worse before but fuck me I still worry, can't help it, if it were your family you'd worry too.

Now I don't even bother having to cover up the gauze, no one ever sees on a regular day, what are chances of it being any different now.

"What happened?" I ask, then want to face palm because there's a dumb question. This is one of the many fights where I know what happened. I drag him inside by the arm and shut the door behind us. "You need to check those." I narrow my eyes, scrutinizing the wounds. There are several that need treating and his eye is swollen a bit more than usual. But injuries aside he looks different, he's looking at me different. His guard is down, a very rare occurrence considering it's JC, he's always the one in the closed off one in the background as compared to how the others are with me, it's not by a long stretch but it's just how he is. "I don't have anything in the house, must I call Lee?"

He shakes his head, a sneer working onto his face, "Met your 'boss' yesterday."

"He did this?" I ask stupidly. I'm angry, it's at myself, granted they're always at odds with each other, this time I just feel guilty because I know I'm the reason.

He looks at me incredulously, "No, we went out for a few beers." He gestures with his hands exaggeratedly as if explaining to a toddler, "We cross paths. This is what happens."

I know this. It's not exclusive to the Wolves and Fangs either. It's how it is with all the gangs on different sides. I feel bad for whatever's going on, I didn't ask for this to happen but I play role regardless right. But even though I spaced out yesterday, got emotionally screwed with by a blasted old picture, and rounded of my day from hell with a fucking mental lapse in which I slit open my own palm, I'm also still me, and want to flip him off for speaking to me like I'm damn two.

I'm the one screwing up though so I don't argue with him. I just huff, "I know that," and jut out my chin, "it was just a question."

Jared shakes his head but not in a bad way, it's in his different JC way. "We had a run in yesterday. It was golden, got the fucker alone, only some chick on his back."

My stomach rolls over.

"A smart cookie for once," he laughs mirthlessly, "she bailed before I took care of Cullen."

He walks away to sit his ass down on Charlie's favorite chair while I linger in the hall with ice slowly creeping up my spine.

What did that mean?

Sighing exasperatedly into his palms JC speaks, unknowingly breaking my thoughts that are now, rather suddenly, slipping back down into that hole of utter chaos that I've been working so fucking hard to keep myself out of since waking up this mornig.

He practically chokes on each word, it's that hard for him to speak them, "Bella, I know I haven't been easy on you." He pauses, gathering his thoughts, "You've got no choice thanks to the pigs," JC sneers and regroups, "do what you have to," he says into his hands, running them over his face and digging the heels into his closed eyes. When he looks back up, his voice is as firm as a brick wall, "I just want you out of there as soon as possible."

It doesn't shock me, I already know this, they all want that, admittedly even part of me wants that because my life was so simple before all of this. But he's right about one thing, I don't really have a choice thanks to Forgey.

The silence stretches and I'm not sure what he's waiting for so I just nod.

"I've gotta bail this place fast," his eyes dart to the window and I nod firmer, understanding this completely, he's alone in Fang territory after a fight with Edward, it's not safe or smart for him to stick around.

He's up and walking to the door and I trail slightly behind, my mind in two places.

JC stalls though, looking hesitant. I frown in confusion, part of me still wondering what he meant earlier.

"Kick it," I say, urging him out, he looks like he needs to sleep too.

"Coming to the Res tonight?" he asks.

"First day of school and stuff…" I trail off. I can't promise him that, I want to but aside from having to work at the restaurant I'm probably going to have a ton of homework, so until I know my school load, I have no idea how much free time I have today. "But, I'll be there tomorrow, probably, Dad said he might have to take care of some stuff out of town."

"Right," he stands up taller and nods, "maybe tomorrow then," he smiles.

I'm about to say something else but stop when JC does something strange. It's different from what the others do and how they always do it, brotherly, natural, teasing, fleeting. He stays. I'm a head case since yesterday though and this is just my mind fucking with me again. So I stand quietly not knowing how to react, not knowing why he does it, but knowing it's nothing when he leaned down and placed a kiss on my forehead, but didn't move away like they usually do, I chalk it up to the fact that he's worried, lacking sleep and has sustained so many injuries. Seth once fell asleep on the porch after a fight down at First Beach, he didn't even have a scratch on his body, no, he was just high as a kite and thought he was sleeping like the champions do... Twit.

"Be careful," Jared whispers against my forehead, "We'll take care of Cullen," he pulls me close and his warm breath fanned out against my skin with each word before he moved away and walked out the door.

Even as the door shuts, I stand in a catatonic state, the only thing I know is his last words are ringing in my head. Take care of Cullen? Was he hurt? Missing? What did he mean?

~.~.~D&D~.~.~

I watch the clock idly. Seconds and minutes ticked by, and with each one of them it's as if yesterday has faded into nothingness… a dull ache in the background that lingers but can't claw its way to the front no matter how hard it tries.

I see the clock as it approaches and passes the time I need to be out to catch the bus for school. And still my body remains perched to the kitchen counter. Good palm flat against my knee while I cradled the wounded one to my stomach, I don't know what I'm waiting for.

I barely stirred as I heard the distinct wheeze and roar of the yellow iron heap that chugged along its route. Picking us up the teenagers of Forks to move them to their prison. It arrived and left, oblivious to my absence.

I stand, slinging my backpack over my shoulder and slip some extra cash into the pocket of my jean skirt. Justifying my actions by thinking that I'm just catching a cab to school because I've missed the bus.

I step onto the porch and wait for the one I'd called for twenty minutes ago.

The weather's foggy and dull, a miserable sight for a miserable mood. Fitting, I think as the horn of the cab blasts, calling my attention. Ducking my head down, I jogged to the cab and got in.

The cabby eyed me dubiously before the bored look of his redundant job worked its way back onto his face, it's not like he really cared where I was going on a school day. "Where to?" he asks.

"Port Angeles." I say without missing a beat. Once I say the words, it practically resonates in the small space holding us inside.

He eyed my bag and I robotically pulled out the wad of cash from my pocket in answer to his silent question. Satisfied, he turned around and drove towards the end of town with me sinking to the back of the seat.

The ride was filled with old songs and static from the radio. Tiny droplets of water trickled down the window and pitter pattered my face as the cabby rolled down his window to take a smoke. Taking his cue, I reached into my bag and pulled out my own cigarettes to calm my gnawing, jittery nerves. His hazel eyes darted to me but he remained silent, instead shrugging his shoulders and offering me a flame. Leaning forward, I gratefully accepted and inhaled, pushing the smoke down my burning throat and deep into my lungs. Holding my breath, I let beats to pass as the nicotine worked its magic to quell my growing fears the further away from school I got. Flicking out the limp weightless ash through the window, I allowed myself one brief look at the bandage on my palm, even now I can't believe it's there and what lies beneath it. Taking another drag, I fidgeted my knee-high tan boots and bided my time until we entered the street.

Paying the cabby and trooping toward the chic joint was no easy task. The wind was howling in wake of a huge storm. It pushed at me from every angle. My hair flew all over the place like a damn tornado of brown and it finally dawned on me that I was here on a school day with no viable reason, no idea how I was going to get home, explain my absence from school, and that with my luck lately, there was a bloody good chance I was going to get jumped by the end of the day. Ultimately there were a hundred and one things that could go wrong but my feet kept moving forward for the simple reason that I had to know…

As if I'd found true enlightenment now that I'd admitted it, the heavens gave way, forcing me to run the remainder of the distance, like it wanted me to get to him faster. It poured down, raining cats and dogs, soaking me to the bone in less than a minute. The slippery wet ground was a wonderful playground for me having grown-up next to a tumultuous beach with all boys, but I was allowed little time to enjoy it on my self-imposed mission. With light splashy footsteps, I maneuvered through the puddles, bolted across the parking lot and climbed the stair, finally reaching my destination.

"Isabella?"

I'd never heard my name uttered with such sad, disbelief before. Very disconcerting. I turned fast to the source, a sinking feeling in my stomach, wondering if maybe there really was something dreadfully wrong.

The shocked look Rosalie was sporting, however, was at me. She stared at me with loosely veiled horror but I was fine with that, she didn't look worried about anything else. I breathed a sigh of relief, even if it wasn't confirmation at least it was a good sign.

"What are you doing here?" she asks.

I blinked once— twice, thrice. Now that I knew he was fine, I was back on track, thinking rationally. What could I say? What could honestly warrant my presence here right this minute? Nothing.

Wordlessly I turned, heading back out. I gotten my answer, it was a brilliant one. I felt the lightest I had in what seems like ages. Now, I had to get home and get one of the forged doctors notes I had stashed from Seth for all those gym classes I cut to hang out at the Res, the same ones Seth uses to cut school period.

I could feel Rosalie's eyes on me and could only imagine the dumfounded expression on her face as she watched me leave after shaking my head.

"Look," she sorta yells, "just wait!"

I halted and looked at her hesitantly, "Why?" I ask, kind of shocked because her expression is unfathomable.

"Just— don't go anywhere," she says, "Felix, get a towel." She ordered as she stalked around the hostess position.

Felix too looked weird, worried even, he sent me a rueful smile as he backed into the restaurant to do as told. I didn't get it, what was going on?

Muttering under her breath, Rosalie came toward me like a spooked bear. "Christ, you're soaking. Get inside," she barked, not unkindly but still urgent as she began pulling me further into the restaurant, hiding me from prying eyes as she ushered me to the side hall that lead to Edward's office.

My heart took off with vigor, shooting up to my throat. I was sure I was going to be sick. What the fuck had I been thinking? I clearly hadn't been thinking at all. I didn't actually want to 'see' him! I just wanted to make sure he was okay, make sure he wasn't dying on some street. Last time I showed up unannounced and landed in his office he was pissed that I'd made my own plans after he warned me against it. Bad case of déjà vu, I try and glue my feet to the ground but they were slippery and wet.

Felix stepped into view and handed Rosalie the towel. Taking it from him she swung me towards her as she hastily dabbed at the moisture.

"Are you okay?" she asks, fast and quietly now that we're far enough away from anyone who could be eavesdropping, "Did something happen?"

This catches my attention and instinctively I look down wondering what's going on and that makes me get it, what she's seeing. I don't look haphazard. From the wind and rain, along with the after effects of the blood loss, exhaustion, lack of sleep and mental stress, I look like I just went ten rounds with Tyson.

I shake my head fast in a 'no', and try to explain but now that she's got her answer, and knows Tyson's not still out there chasing me down the street she's back to dabbing and moving. I try again to no avail; she's speaking hushed and rapidly, tugging me towards the office while trying to help me dry as much as she can.

As we pass the counter and come into view, in my peripheral vision I see James rapidly rise from his perch on the bar-top. I flinch back on instinct. He's walking in large, lithe strides, his flashing blue eyes narrow as he moves. Christ how bad do I look, I wonder when I realize he's seeing my roughed up appearance. His gaze shifts to Rosalie as he falls into step with us and she shakes her head, answering whatever he's silently asked. He nodded and slipped past us, easily getting ahead and swinging open the back door. Still hidden from the restaurant, Rosalie's arm propelled me forward through the doors. The last thing I see before the door shuts is Tanya, having followed James movements she sees me being lead to the back. Her eyes were black-ice as she barked out a disbelieving snarl with a hand placed on her hip.

In the office, Jasper leaned casually against the side wall with one leg propped up. He was waiting for Edward, who was aimlessly nursing a beer, with a dart poised to throw in his other hand.

They turned towards the door as James let Rose and me in. Not that I'd had a choice but I was reluctant as hell to be in there, the second I came into view, Jasper's eyes grew a little in surprise then narrowed to match the slits Edward's had already narrowed into. My blood ran cold.

"Bella?" Edward's green eyes turn a menacing shade of black as he takes inventory of the condition in which I was brought in.

I shake my head at Edward and catch sight of Jasper, he was looking at Rosalie, again with the silent question and answer process, he nodded at the door dismissing her after the 'conversation'.

Abruptly my head flew after Rosalie, we're not close, she's still very intimidating, I just don't want to be left alone in here with all of them when they look like that. I watched desperately as she moved to the door, leaving the towel she'd wrapped on my shoulders around me as she exited. A small, reassuring look touched her face in my direction just before the door shut. Taking that as a good sign, I swallowed and turned back to Edward.

"Guess who stopped by." James drawled rhetorically.

Instantly I watched the tension visibly leave the shoulders of the cousins across the room. Jasper kicked himself off the wall, grabbing his beer from the desk. Now that it was apparent that nothing was amiss, he sauntered across the room with a nod and nonchalant smirk of acknowledgment in my direction. Out of my element, I watched cautiously as without waiting for any form of reply, he and James slipped through the doors leaving me alone with the more lethal one.

"What are you doing here?" Edward asked, his stance completely aloof but his eyes intensely watching me for any sign of disturbance.

Now that he was in front of me, my own eyes raked over him. He wasn't as banged up JC was, nor did he appear in anyway fazed. I feel relief seep out every pore in my body, but even still my eyes run over him just to be sure, scrutinizing as much of him as I can while still being discreet. I see the scratched skin on his forehead and the small bruise under his eye but I zero in on his neck… there's a ghosting of a stab mark on it.

I'm not sure what happened after that, my face must've paled or something, because when I look again I'm across the room and he's lowering me onto the leather couch.

"Easy baby," he says quietly, pushing my hair back and keeping me down when I try to get up. He moves back and sits on the small table before the couch, arms crossed, eyes seriously alert, as he waits for an answer to his next question. His voice is back to steel, "What the fuck happened?"

His tone reminds me of a snake, a false calm. Secretly coiled to strike; all he's waiting for is something to trigger him. It's calculated and he's observing closely to make sure what I told Rosalie is true.

I answer swiftly. I don't want any more trouble. "Nothing," I say truthfully looking at him though my lashes because my head feels heavy.

He nodded accepting that and eased back for real this time, getting comfortable. His eyes never wavered, they remained serious and dangerous. His voice despite his quiet steady pitch is husky and deep with underlying fierceness as he questions me. He knows that something's up, he just needs to figure what it is. "How'd you get here?"

"I— " I'm floored for a second, I haven't exactly been at my best today or yesterday. I stammered out the first thing that came to mind. "I was on my way to school."

He lifted a brow and looked around exaggeratedly, before deadpanning, "This isn't school."

"I know." I huff, it was a fucked up stupid answer but I didn't really have the energy or brain capacity to think shit through, I had a rapidly growing need to sleep, probably from fatigue or some crap. It was out there already so I tried to make it more believable by adding to it, being more truthful. "I didn't want to go to school."

"You didn't wantto go to school?" he repeated incredulously, his eyebrows now buried under his unruly hair. "Of course," he drawled out sarcastically, looking at me with his head lowered, "so naturally, you came here."

I knew he didn't understand, more importantly I could see behind his condescending stance he didn't believe me.

"I—I," I didn't have an argument. I didn't have a justification for my actions unless I cut the bullshit which was very risky business. Accepting my defeat, I just bit the bullet. "Are you okay?" I asked quietly.

He stared at me his eyes dark with both questions and surprise, before it quickly disappeared like I'd imagined it. "Am I?" he asked rhetorically.

"Look I saw—" my mouth snapped shut just in time, not wanting to provide a name because you don't ever do that in our world. I don't have time to cover it up because he caught the hesitation already.

"You saw your friend," he spoke in precise understanding, a smirk on his face.

My jaw dropped, it really was like he read minds.

"He's gone." I say quickly, wanting him to know none of them are on Shadow territory.

"Wise move on his part."

His grin is chilling and threatening, I see the gangster that lies beneath the guy he is in front of me. What could I respond to that? From his menacingly calm state I knew he meant it. What he'd already done to Jared is the tip of the iceberg as compared to what he's capable of.

I'm losing myself in his presence again, "I should go," I said, standing quickly.

"To where?" he asked cynically. "School?"

I glared, he ignored it and grinned devilishly back at me.

"So you came to check up on me, anima gemella (soul mate)?" His head cocked to the side, watching as blood rushed to my face. He already knew the answer, but he loved baiting me, "I'm touched," he teased.

Blushing harder I turned and tried to run, quicker than I could process his palm flattened on my chest, pushing me swiftly back onto the couch. I bounced from the impact. He chuckled softly under his breath moving to sit beside me. Not touching me, just comfortable, he slouched and stretched his long, strong arm around the back of the couch, letting it hang by my shoulder.

Tension was thick around us. His scent filled and electrified the air while his body heat warmed my leg and soaked straight through to my heart even from a distance. He was clouding my judgment again, if I didn't know any better when he looks at me out the side of his eye, he must see it too. I stared at him as he grabbed the towel and tugged it off me. Wringing it tightly into a rope, he grabbed my wrists and wrapped them securely with it.

"What are you doing!" I gasped in shock, my heart thumping at a thrilling rate.

His dark green eyes flickered to me under the thick canopy of his lashes, a lopsided grin pulling at his lips, it morphed into a cocky boyish smirk when he replied and my heart skipped a beat at the shadowed huskiness.

"Showing my appreciation." He pecked my lips quick.

I try and pick up to my elbows, I don't actually want to get away, part of me really wants to stay. He crawls over me, hovering and keeping me down, inadvertently making the decision for me. Locking me into place, my feeble attempt to keep my head screwed on straight and get away, was now a distant memory. He chuckled at our new position, and buried me on the soft couch under his body, clad head to toe in black.

His stone hard muscles ripple delectably against me where we make contact. He nudged my legs apart with his knee and settled himself between them so he could reach my lips again. This time when he met mine he didn't pull back and once they did, I could will myself to resist no longer.

It didn't feel wrong. It felt like contentment, like this I could feel he was okay, that he was real.

His lips were soft and warm, demanding entrance. I gave it. A soft moan escaped me as his tongue grazed feather touches to my own. The kiss was scorching and his lips were unyielding. Beneath us, I could feel the deliciously rough texture of his palm on me. I gasped, as his hand crept hotly against my skin, down my side to grip my thigh in a firm steel hold. Effortlessly, he lifted it up to lock around his waist, allowing his hard body between my legs. He stopped kissing me and pinned me down.

My head fell back and he groaned when my body arched into him, my thighs rubbing hard into his ribs as primal instinct took over.

"Bella," he whispered along my lips not giving in to what he knows I want. I moaned in protest then contentment as his palm snuck under the hem of my sweater, dancing in torturous circles, teasingly winding me up for purposes of his own. I groaned in frustration, wanting more than anything in that moment for my hands to be free so I could touch him back, fist his hair and pull him back to me. He looks down at me, tugging my towel binds knowingly as he continues, his voice low and ghosting on my skin, "you will," he runs his hand up my skin slowly, leaving a river of molten lava in its wake as he reached the underside of my bra, allowing his fingertips to skim the wire tauntingly, making me want more but not giving me it.

I writhed, he stroked again, his eyes watched me intently.

"— never," he leaned down lower, emphasizing his point with his smoldering eyes. His face close enough to touch me even though he didn't, he reveled in the burning hungry desire that was bubbling inside me, as he made sure the warning was crystal clear, "run away from me again."

He dipped down to devour my mouth again. I was breathless and an uncomfortable wetness was forming in my panties as he kept me on edge. I waited, impatiently, for him to deepen the kiss but he didn't, instead he teased me with soft pecks and nibbles at my swollen lip before pulling back and causing an involuntary growl to erupt from me.

"Understood?" he completes, looking at me.

I was wound so tightly in that moment he could've asked if I understood quantum physics and I would've said yes. With a frantic nod I gave my okay and he smiled down at me.

My heart stopped completely. Out of the lust haze. I felt something very, very different than lust. So much more intense, it burned from deep inside my body, so deep I think it was burning straight out my soul. He smiled, the feeling it sent through me was euphoric. That smile was breathtaking, so much more so than his smirk because that smile was for me. It was what broke my resolve, how could I possibly ever try to stay away from him without getting ripped in two?

"Good girl," he whispered and dipped down catching my lips to silence my scream of pleasure as his hand finally slipped under my bra, giving me what my body craved.

His fingertips caused electricity to crackle where it made contact with my tender skin, kneading the handful firmly, like he was staking his possession of me. His palm grazed the overly sensitive bud and caused flood gates to open down below. I'd never felt like this before.

"I can smell you," he said hotly as he flicked and tweaked my painfully puckered nipple between his thumb and index finger, rolling it as he kissed me like I was suddenly something so precious.

I half purred, half cried, so, so desperate… never having felt anything like this before.

He licked my bottom lip softly, a stark contradiction to his possessive eyes. A deep blush burned my skin as he thrust his hips into mine to prove his point and a low whine escaped me at his hard prominent jean clad cock touching the source of my dampness, making me so much wetter. He grinned and repeated the movement causing my breathing to hike.

Slowly his left hand descended to the bottom of my skirt that had ridden up. A single finger danced up my bare thigh, towards the drenched material between my legs, flicking the elastic and threatening to slip inside as he looked at me hungrily.

"Let me take care of it for you anima gemella," he said quietly, his voice husky, his eyes burning intensely.

I was positive it wasn't a question but I never got to find out because a fist pounded hard at the door. Edward growled dangerously, a low menacing roar from deep within his chest as he darted his eyes towards it. He kissed my temple then leaned his forehead against mine, his breathing was as labored matching my own.

"What!" he barked at whoever was on the other side.

"Emmett called, there's trouble downtown," Rosalie's voice said in a quiet panic, " Jazz and James left with Laurent to cover things at the bay before it reaches there. But Emmett's still down, he said there's something you're gonna want to see."

"Fuck it," he cussed.

I watched fixated as his usual lethal undertone crawled over his features, completely shadowing it. His eyes flashed with sharp green ice as he backed off me, stepping lightly to his desk and grabbing a gleaming chrome gun.

I flinched in alarm as he strode past me, a deadly glint in his eyes as he tucked it into the back of his jeans. Stopping at the door he turned his head slightly to face me. In quick steps, he's before me again. His breath fanned out on my skin as he held my gaze, his eyes infinitely softer than they were a moment ago, now that he was looking at me.

"Do not leave, Bella. Stay right here," brief concern touched his voice as he spoke, "I'll be back in a little while. Do. Not. Move." His tone at the end told me not to argue, it back to hard and sharp, with a nod he backed away from me and I watched with locked emotion in my throat as he left the office.

His tall, dominating, frame calling the attention of the occupants of the restaurant but only for a brief second before they saw his set jaw and lethal expression and diverted their attention. Bowing heads and lowered eyes, in an act of both fear and possibly respect… Seeing nothing and hearing nothing.

Uninterested in the reactions around him, he slung his jacket on, covering the green ink of his initials that peeked out from under his black t-shirt sleeve and stormed out the door with wrath. I didn't know why he was angry, but he looked murderous. I watched through the two-way mirror as he hopped off the rail outside the restaurant, landing effortlessly on the tarmac that was ridiculously far below us and got to his bike. It roared to life under him and he shot down the street in a deafening blur of black, red and gold.

I righted myself, straightening out my clothes and untangling my still wet hair. I still felt lightheaded but after what seemed like the longest time, I also felt possibly whole. I played it over in my head, every expression he wore, the way he looked at me and most important the way he smiled. I rubbed the tips of my fingers together as they began to tingle. I could feel the hidden dressed wound but it didn't worry me like it had this morning. I felt, for lack of a better term, like I was invincible…

There was just something unexplainable about him and the magnetic pull I felt to him. It didn't make sense but I was slowly beginning to think that maybe, just maybe, it wasn't supposed to. This feeling was so intense and natural, was I meant to just go with it? It wasn't as if I had any control over it as things stood. Maybe, I should I give him the benefit of the doubt?

I've barely begun that train of thought before the door swung open, calling my attention. Hastily, Tanya came in shutting it behind her, nondescript.

"Well aren't you a real piece of work?" she said above the music, hands on her hips.

"What?" I asked, my voice at normal pitch but slightly perturbed by her opening. Seriously what was her deal. I didn't really care for more drama and she appeared to be in the mood for it. I classified her in my head as one of those girls, the vindictive ones. And for some reason she hated me. I had a nagging feeling she didn't want me close to Edward. On second thought, I held up a hand silencing her. I didn't need this, I was on bullshit overload all on my own, who needed the extra help from her? I'm the standing Queen of bullshit of late, bow down woman, the works done already. "You know what," I say, confidently because one positive change from yesterday, is that I know she's not my supervisor so shooting her down is more than an option but I'm physically and mentally drained and choose to go the high road, hoping she'll drop it. "Forget it."

Doesn't work. She arches a brow and looks me in the eye in wonder.

"Forget it?" she scoffs, "Well look who's developing a spine now that the boss is boning her." She smiles mirthlessly.

That I wasn't prepared for. Honestly, I would've felt better if she just slapped me. A fight I could handle, easy. But this was unexpected, I'm not sleeping with anyone? Did they think I was sleeping with him? And even if I was, how did it affect them? More important, how in God's name would that affect me having a damn spine?

One thing I've always had is a spine, I shoot my mouth off more than Kanye. As a result of my upbringing I can shoot my mouth off because truthfully I can defend it and myself, and in the cases that I can't, I've got the backing of two very prominent sources that fall under one category, the guys and dad; family. The one and only time all three have failed is now, with this dare business.

I don't retort, I just watch and wait for her to get through with it, hoping to gain some insight. Her behavior isn't like how I would've expected it to be, I may be wrong about the class I put her into but I'm on mark with the rest of it.

"Pretty little mess, aren't you?" her face is impassive, but she looks scheming on the inside. She tuts, as she drags her gaze over my drenched appearance, "I like it, little slut, what's a dog without its bitch. The innocent act is great, I'm sure your mutts are eating it right up."

She strikes a nerve and I want to strike her.

I don't really care much for the fact that she just called me a slut, why should I? I'm almost certain from the two of us I'm the only virgin in the room, I'm also positive that Blondie's not the best character reference to go by considering how she's constantly at my throat. But what I do care about is that last comment. That's not true and I want to say it too. I'd never manipulate them like that. I've never emotionally manipulated anyone to get what I want. Fuck me, for years I've gone out of my way to make sure no one knows about the disturbing nightmares, the haunting feelings I have inside, or the rare tears that plague me when I allow myself to think too far about Renee and what happened before and after her. I've fought these demons alone, just so that they don't have to worry, they've already done too much. No one knows about any of it, not even my dad.

I don't attack her though because for all she knows me coming here was a plan to look innocent, a plan she thinks I'm apparently a master at. On any other day this would be amusing but today I just stare at her blankly not bothering.

"You use it to fuck them too?"

I feel my stomach roll in disgust, "Are you fucking insane—"

She smirks and cuts me off, finally having got a reaction. "This isn't La Push, Bella," she pronounces my name sharply and my head begins to tick. She circles a long finger around the room signifying Forks, "you don't get to come to my turf and take Edward's time."

Her voice is normal, quiet scheming but maybe not. I can't tell, it's too on the fence.

"You're a kept little pet," she says, "once this is over, you'll just be yesterday's damaged goods, thrown out back with the rest of the trash from Nell' Ombra." She straightens and takes an easy step forward, "Get one thing straight. Stay away from Edward or I'll make you regret the day you were born."

I smirk on the inside just because I guessed right, so this was about him after all. The smirk dies quick though, she studies me for a moment then her face loses the intimidation tactic. Her eyes widen and then as if realizing something and she smiles before she backs off and starts to watch me closer as if trying to figure something out, "I'm doing you a huge favor actually."

I'm thrown for a loop, she suddenly sounds so genuine. I'm wondering if it's legit, it sounds to be but I'm pissed off and my guard is always up. "Really?" I ask, monotone sarcasm, "and how is that?"

She breathes in deep and lets it out, her face the way it usually is when she's around anyone else in Nell' Ombra. It's either she's fucking brilliant at this game or she's seriously not in loathe-mode with me anymore.

"I'm saving you the disgrace of being his whore," she answers easily.

I snap. My breath catches in my throat at her repeated insinuations that I sleep around, "What the hell is wrong with you?" I don't yell but my tone is sharp and cutting, I can't rein it in, if I had the energy I'd be flying right now, "I'm not sleeping with him! I'm not sleeping anyone!" I want to smack it into her head. Stepping forward too as I sneered the words, I think I was about to. "I'm not a whore!"

"Oh, really?" she continued resiliently though she watched me closely to see if she should back up.

My hands are in fists but I stop dead in my tracks at her next words.

"Then why's he paying you more than everyone else?"

He what? I think to myself. My brows furrow but I remain on edge.

"I mean the same rate as Rose? She's his cousin, so that's perfectly normal but you?" she starts ticking off her fingers, "I mean close to double the staff salary and little Bella gets to work however many hours and times she wants to. Easy money and own hours…" she smirks, tapping her head exaggeratedly, "Who else gets to do that?"

I suddenly feel sick to my stomach. He's paying me more than everyone else? I don't want to believe it. I'm torn straight down the middle, my heart and head going in two very different directs.

It couldn't be true. Could it? I wouldn't believe it, not coming from her but it's the contents that bothers me… because I am working my own hours, and considering my pay rate I could very likely be getting more than the others. My mind tells me to push aside the way I feel and think logically, he's in a gang… one that hates the Wolves a lot longer than he's known me… was he playing me?

I start suddenly when Tanya stepped lightly towards me, brushing my hair back. Her expression now is as if she'd just realized I had no idea. I flinched away from her touch, regardless, I'm on edge, I can't breathe, I'm furious and possibly… hurt.

"He's a Shadow Fang and you're the Grey Wolves Achilles heel," she says softly, "he's buying you."

My stomach retched. My brain and heart at odds with each I seriously just a twisted game to him? His revenge on the Wolves?

"Oh my God." She tutt'd pitifully, as a lone traitorous tear streaked down my cheek angrily landing on my forearm in a heavy drop. "You really had no idea did you?" she asks quietly, it's like she's trying to confirm it. Then she smiles insincerely but continues in sympathy. "Well then, thank me by keeping your distance from him." She backs herself to the door again. "Oh and Bella," she turned towards me before she slipped out, "let's keep this little meeting between us ok?" she fake smiled again, making sure I understood.

Grabbing my backpack off the couch, I bolted for the main area, grabbing and tugging at Felix's arm the second I saw him, he looked to me quickly, confused.

I shook my head not giving him a chance to speak, I donned a huge smile and added an upbeat hyper tone to my voice, faking enthusiasm while I dreaded the outcome, "Guess who made almost $10 an hour this weekend with all the tips."

He smiles and laughs. "You did better than Stef, I'm jealous."

He joking but me, I no longer feel angry… I feel sick... I clutch my backpack tighter needing to get out of there now.

I sneak out the exit quickly, running, not wanting a lapdog to stop me if they're in there. I had no idea where I was going, all I knew was that I had to put as much distance between me and him as possible. Screw him! Screw his job! Screw getting arrested! I'd much rather kiss Harvard goodbye than let someone use me. Just thinking the words were enough to make me want to heave, in disgust, anger and most of all hurt. I was no one's fucking whore. College be damned, I can't and I won't be fucking bought or used.

It's uncontrollable and pathetic that I can shed traitorous tears. But there's this evil feeling in the pit of my stomach that I can't name because it's a feeling I've never experienced before. It's like my chest was just ripped down the middle and my heart was dying out from intense pain.

With every step I took through the downpour I admitted to myself that part of me had hoped I could trust him, that it was real. How fucking naïve are you Bella! My clutched fists wiped furiously at the angry tears spilling from my eyes, like it would make a difference. Crossing the street quickly, I flagged down a cab and grabbed at the door before the vehicle even managed to fully come to a stop. "K Street." I say, but my voice is hoarse, from the cold, I'm soaked through and through.

"Girl you okay?" The aged cab driver asked, alarmed.

I briefly wonder what everyone is doing that for, it's happened so often.

"I'm fine. Please!" I beg, when I mean to demand, "I just need to get home!"

One look at the fresh wave of tears that finally assault me and he was flooring it.

~.~.~D&D~.~.~

I wasn't sure how long I'd been passed out on the floor. All I remembered was the nice old cabby refusing to take my money and saying he was just happy to help me get back safely. He was a kind old man. I appreciated it now that my breakdown had past. This is what I was doing for about twenty minutes since I'd woken from the haze. I'd been lying in the same position, cheek pressed to the cold floor where I'd blacked out, and thinking about the only nice thing that had happened in what felt like ages. Just a kind old man, being nice to a distraught girl, and he'd expected nothing in return, no hidden agenda… it felt so nice to just be seen as a girl for once…

My head hurt from where it slammed the step when I blacked out, but aside from that everything was fine. I was in a safe bubble, away from cutting school, the gang bullshit, the picture of Renee holding me as a baby and the green eyes that I'd stupidly come to trust so completely. Even now, despite proof my heart protested against my brain. I told it to shut the fuck up.

My cell rang beside my throbbing head. Dedication to my Ex, destroyed by the annoying buzzing sound the hard floor caused every time it vibrated and danced noisily in a semicircle. I barely blinked as I idly watched it ring till it went to voicemail. Almost immediately it lit up again. The process repeated several times, all with the same result.

My body ached and groaned in protest as I flattened my hands under me and pushed up, trying feebly to stand up. I rose slowly, the room was still dotted in black spots so I stood still until they disappeared. I climbed up the stairs wanting to get to my room and grabbed the cordless phone on the way. Navigating to my room while clutching the walls in an attempt to stay upright, I curled into a ball on the bed the second I reached it and dialed a number I knew all too well.

"Forks Police Station, Officer Bradley speaking, what's your emergency?"

"Can I speak to my dad?" I ask.

"Bella?"

"Yeah, sorry Uncle John." I apologize, rubbing the tender spot on my head. I'm still so cold, my body is wet and my energy is fading so fast I can track how it diminishes.

"Sure, just hold on a sec."

Light shuffling was heard before a gruff throat cleared.

"Bells?"

"Daddy," the word I seldom used was out in a heartbeat, "I'm not feeling well, I cut school today. I'm sorry…" My voice was small even to my own ears, I need to sleep but I also need to hear my dad's voice and tell him that I was sorry, I was so, so fucking sorry.

"That's fine kiddo, you don't sound too good. You okay there? I can come home."

He can't, he's busy, I can hear the alarming amount of people in the background but I know he'll make time. "No," I say, I just want to sleep, why bother him, "Don't worry, I'm fine." My insides churned, I'd used that line so many times recently and if I thought about it, what could be further from the truth? "I just need to lay down for a bit."

A sighed harrumph filled the line, the police chief in him knowing something was wrong, the father sounding unsettled and worried.

"I think we should maybe have a doctor look at you."

"No, dad I'm fine." I repeat, "I just really need to sleep. I'll see you when you get home." My eyes were closing already, making it a struggle to get the words out.

"Okay, go to bed and I'm gonna call Sarah and ask her to stop by just in case." When I tried to protest he insisted, "Maybe she'll send Jake for you but you're either seeing them or a doctor."

"Sure, dad," I said, half asleep. "Be safe."

"Call if you start feeling any worse."

There was a pause and I could hear the worry in my old man's voice, I must really sound horrible.

"I love you kiddo," he says.

"Love you too dad," I reply meaning it with my whole heart.

The line went dead and I clutched onto the phone tightly as the blackness won over. Today was the first day that I wanted my Dad before anyone else, even Jake. He was the one man in the world who would never abandon me no matter what… even if I was a bloody idiot who'd done something to warrant it…

~.~.~D&D~.~.~

I stirred in and out of consciousness, my aching muscles kept me restless.

It was sometime after noon when I woke up to find Jacob perched on a chair by my work station, playing a random game of solitaire on the computer. The squeak of the bed springs alerted him as I sat up. He swiveled the chair and met me with a grin.

"Whatcha doing?" is my brilliant hello.

He replies with an eyeroll, "I was writing a book."

I snigger, "Whatcha calling it?"

"Call'n it Black Death." He says, serious look.

I frown, scary title. "Sounds festive, does it have a wedding?"

Jake snorts, "It's about this guy named Jacob Black and he's got this sister who looks like death." I laugh, he does too but then he's back to normal, kind of somber. "You look like hell Bells, welcome to the living."

I found his statement odd, because if he asked me, I'd say I felt a ton better now than I had back then. The weakness remained but it wasn't as bad as before, the only thing that still hurt was that hole in my chest.

"Ah, Jake you always know just what to say."

He chuckled at my dry humor and nodded to the bedside table where a plastic bag and some takeout sat. "Flu?" he asks, "Ma sent some pills, but you gotta eat first."

I don't know what it is but I nodded in thanks not wanting to them to make too much of it. My voice hurt a little from the rawness in my throat. I cleared it as he left the room so I could change.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't really 'awake' when dad said he was gonna call you guys." I appeared dry now, but I could still feel the dampness in my clothes as I peeled them off. I shoved on a long-sleeved shirt, hoodie and jeans and called out the door as I slipped on some boots and made quick work of rewrapping my hand, "Were you busy?"

"Nah, don't worry about it," he dismissed with a wave as I walked out, before jerking his head for me to follow, "but I've got to head back to the garage, and you're comin with me, so let's get going."

He grabs my stuff off the nightstand and starts for the stairs.

"Jake, I just wanna stay at home."

He shook his head, no. "You look like shit," he said seriously, I scowled. "I'll drop you by ma or you can hang by the garage, one of the two." With a large hand at the back of my head, he playfully steered me out the door.

I laugh, it's small but it's something. I decided then that leaving was a good thing, if I was busy that annoying ache would disappear.

I slowly walked beside Jake. He kept pace with me, which I was grateful for because the need to tumble over was still there in the background.

He raised his bushy dark brows at me. "What happened to ya head?"

"Huh?" I ask.

His eyes fixed questioningly to the bruise on my forehead that I hadn't had time to cover up. Shit. I winced at the now noticeable throbbing.

"Bumped my head on the headboard when I went to bed," I dismissed it easily, grabbing the food from him as we neared the door.

He shook his head, part of him skeptical but he didn't press further.

Letting me walk out before him, he locked the front door and got into the car where I was already happily scarfing down the burger.

"Oh yeah, you dropped your phone," he said fishing it out his pocket along with his keys.

Tossing it to me, he started up the engine and backed us out the drive. The storm had died at some point while I was asleep.

"Thanks," I mumbled through my mouthful, shoving it into my pocket as we drove towards La Push.

I eat as we fly. Food tastes good, and with each bite the dizziness all but disappeared.

"Jake, turn here!" I said, shooting out my hand and directing him to the left that leads to the garage. "I feel better, I'll be bored at home."

Another bonus is that at the garage I didn't run the risk of amble thinking, something which was doing me no good of late. The familiarity of this simple act feels great, it's second nature. A sense of home that gives a light numbing to that gaping wound in my chest. That empty feeling that something's broken, the one that won't shut up. As Jake turns into the street it eases slightly but isn't destroyed.

Within minutes we pulled up to the dark bricked, stand alone building that Sam owned in a vacant part of the Res; The Den.

I thought it had a nice ring to it considering the employees.

The engine cut and quickly downed the pills Sarah had sent before we got out. Sam and Paul shot me questioning grins at my unexpected appearance but went about their business on a Grey Mustang. Embry was there when Sari had called Jake though, he asked how I'm doing as he passed by carrying a greasy looking part. I hugged them all real quick and said I was doing perfect with a plastered on grin as I headed to the office. Gratefully, collapsing into a chair, I lay my head back, needing just a little more sleep and my eyes closed for a beat.

~.~.~D&D~.~.~

When I woke the meds had kicked in. The boys as per usual monkey'd around while working and I found myself coerced to the front again. Watching them throw jibes as Embry's failed attempt to pick up an engine after much bragging, to which he retaliated by knocking over Jake with an old spare tire from the Hurricane.

I snorted with them as we watched the idiocy unfold. Jake pushed the tire over to me and in a moment of mutual brainlessness I crawled into it and molded myself into the curve, not smart under any circumstances considering how dizzy I'd been earlier on, but it was totally worth it when I propelled myself forward and bowled over Embry.

Carefree banter kissed the air, filling it with a lighthearted innocence as I crawled back out after Paul had stopped the short roll. His foot remained securely on it, allowing me to get out properly before he let it tumble to the ground. Our cheeks where flushed from laughing so hard as we walked over to Sam. He was subtly chuckling and leaning against the Mustang with his arms crossed, while Jake extended a hand to Embry pulling him up with a goofy half laugh, half snort.

"You're in for it." He said breaking into a sprint.

My high shriek sliced the air and I bolted in a fit of laughter with Embry high on my tail. There was no way I was outrunning him. I knew it having grown up with them. I was slippery and quick, but not faster than them. True to form an arm snaked around my waist and my feet left the floor.

"Put me down!" I choked, through fits of giggles, struggling to get free. "Okay! I'm sorry!" I tried harder as he strode us past the garage and out to the back. I knew all too well where he was headed. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" I yelled with fervor, the ridiculous laughter refused to cease even when the blue grey water came into view.

"Me too sis," he said solemnly as he flung me in the air towards the pond.

I squealed, my legs flew haphazardly in the air, and I clawed frantically at him with my fingers and nails like a spooked cat, trying to latch on. His body vibrated with hard mirth as he caught me again and easily lowered me to the ground. Clutching onto him I let the adrenaline subside as we supported each other and gasped out gurgles of laughter. Finally steady on my footing I let go and we started back to the garage.

Sam was seated in the Mustang while Jake and Paul watched silently from the outside. A low roar hummed out the engine as it started up flawlessly.

"Sweet." Jake bumped his fist to Paul's.

Sam cut the engine, hopping back out. "Let's get her back to Solomon and get paid." He tossed the keys to Paul and made his way to the Hurricane. I watched as they pulled out the garage. "Finish up the Corvette." Sam called just before they peeled out.

"Finish up the Corvette?" Embry made a face, "Fuck, I needa get my hands on that Camaro."

"I got this," Jake moved to the Corvette and motioned for Embry to proceed towards the gleaming blue car I'm guessing was the Camaro.

"Want some help?" I offered not knowing what to do with myself.

The two of them stopped working and shot me a look.

"With what?" Jake asked with a speculative eye reminding me of something I already knew… I know nothing about cars.

"Right, so I'm just gonna sit here then." I nodded and plopped onto the former backseat of Quill's, Jaguar.

"Besides," Jake went on, "it'll be better if you rest a bit. No lie," he says to Embry now, "looked like hell threw her up when I got to Charlie's place."

He just always knew how to make me feel better that one. I stuck out my tongue at him, he rolled his eyes turning back to the Corvette while letting me turn up the music. I'm never idle here which is why they're not surprised when I get up anyway and find something to do. They worked systematically, talking, pulling parts, replacing them, and so on, while I bobbed my head to the beat moved towards the mess in the office. Love them to bits these ones, but I swear on all that's holy, if I didn't clean up after them they'd live like pigs! Boys.

Grabbing a few of the many rags thrown around the place, I sifted for the one with the least amount of grease on it and tossed the others in a neat pile. Moving the loose papers around and organizing them into orderly stacks, before using the clean half of the rag to dust out the table and shelves. I kept myself solely focused on the task at hand. Moving around to reach the far corners was uncomfortable with my phone. I fished it out my pocket and placed it on the now straightened out top, while I gathered some old pizza boxes to throw them out. Shoving the boxes into a garbage bag, I used my foot to kick it towards Jake and Embry. With my energy still on low, it didn't slide very far but they'd get the picture and take it out. Grabbing some old copies of slips that I'd kept aside from the stacks, I moved to file them away. Just as I shut the file my cell rang loudly.

Singing along to the words and dancing in a goofy exaggerated old school sway, I snatched it up and looked at the screen. My eyes shut instantly. Opening them slowly, I looked again and sure enough the unnamed number that had burned itself straight through my retina and into my memory after one call at Nell' Ombra was still there staring back at me. I watched mutely as it cut and the screen updated, I now had 5 missed calls instead of 4. I press enter and wait with baited breath to see who had tried to call me earlier…

It wasn't a long list.

One number repeated itself.

Lloyd's voice rings out again, playing the words I normally love because of the old styled beat that gives me an odd sense of nostalgic happiness. But the nostalgia made me get it, piece it together. It was insane yet it was true, I knew what that feeling was in my chest, it was heartbreak, but how do you experience heartbreak over someone who was never dating you in the first place.

"Aren't you gonna get that?" Embry yelled from the front, raising a brow as the phone continues to loudly play a song that none of them like.

Sliding up the screen, I held the phone up to my ear and steeled myself, hoping against hope that I was wrong. "Hello."

"Where are you?"

His low voice was solid ice on the other end of the line. My traitorous heart fluttered in time with the anger in my head that refused to be stomped down. Swallowing hard against my natural gang instincts that reminded me that I'm speaking to infamous leader of the Shadow Fangs, I tried to keep a steady voice.

"It doesn't matter," I answered evenly. The hard tone of my voice was something I'm sure he didn't miss as I continued. "And I'm not planning on coming back."

I could hear his steady breathing on the other side, an exaggerated pause between us telling me that he was 'allowing' me to finish my rant.

Swallowing again audibly, I pushed on. "You can arrest me if you want, I really don't care. I'm never coming back, so quite honestly, you can go fuck yourself Edward Cullen." The feeling of pride that should usually accompany standing up for one's self is overshadowed by the stinging sensation I feel now that it's done.

He exhaled and chuckled before he spoke, his tone a disbelieving, dark amusement. I could practically see him shaking his head with a condescending smirk on his face.

"Questa ragazza fa uno scherzo a me! (This girl's messing with me.)"

My brows pulled together in confusion not understanding the words that flowed out his mouth. As he continued and called out to his cousin, I finally figured he wasn't speaking to me.

"Jasper, andiamo per l'escursione. Prendi i ragazzi insieme! Visitiamo il territorio di Lupi. (Jasper, we're going on a joy ride. Get the boys together. We're visiting Wolf territory')"

I could make out a snigger in the background and guessed that it was Jasper.

"Huh?" I asked.

"You wanna play?"

He says. He sounded pissed, his voice controlled but with dark undertones of incredulous frustration. I can picture him lick his lips in annoyance and nod his head like he does when his mind's moving on a speed train.

"Okay, let's play Cappuccinetto (Little Cappuccino)."

The line goes dead.

My heart pounds in anticipation. I didn't know what was coming but I didn't have to be Yoda to know it wasn't gonna be good.

~.~.~ Thanks for reading. 7's up shortly, Love and God bless, from Kat;) ~.~.~

Prompt Status CH6: Full chapter posted here.

Authors Note: Okay first part first, I thought the Edward/Bella time in the office was suggestive but I could be wrong, let me know if any of you think it should be on my journal and I'll move and adjust it where necessary. The MA content for this story will always be available on TWCS and on my journal for everyone on FF. Next:

For the benefit of the readers who haven't read Dine and Dash when it was previously posted, what Bella did is called self harm. It is sadly stereotyped by many people and I had a co-written write up on it (by own choice and by request of some readers who have loved ones who self harm, to address some of the halfcocked ideas that some of my older readers had), that write up will be available on my website if anyone's curious about the subject and I still have the names of the books the Prof assigned.

Self harm, to almost all who do it, is a coping mechanism to temporarily deal with emotional pain, intense anxiety, depression, stress, failure, self-loathing, or sometimes, even a means to communicate distress, etc. It is very serious issue that is widely swept under the rug or dismissed as attention seeking, this is inaccurate, Though there are some who do it for the sake of doing it, there a far more who have serious problems, it isn't 'Goth' or 'drama queens' majority self harmers feel shame over the act and go to great lengths to keep it a secret, not only that, but self harm is listed as one of the symptoms of borderline personality disorder (in no way meaning that all who do it have the disorder). A lot of self harmers have certain triggers, a situation or factor that makes them prone to harm themselves when faced with it. It dangerous, and though it is done mostly without suicidal intent, it can cause death, lead to both unintentional and intentional suicide and poses many health risks. Please do not do it.

I wanted to write about something real, so it was always in the plot to add the dynamic to Bella, as does everything I do in this story, it serves a purpose. My friends are psychology majors and I've taken the same courses, through which we have met a lot of wonderful but internally hurting people. As I mentioned the first time this was posted, we respect and understand these people, I don't agree with it but its real life, it's not a 'phase' or 'call for attention' as termed by many, they're not cowards or drama-queens, it's a coping mechanism used by people who are hurting in one way or another who don't know how to handle it, however, yes, there are the select few who do it for the sake of doing it. Note, this is the bare minimum of information, just whatever needs to be known to not offend anyone and to deal with Bella's character, it's a far more intricate issue than this AN. I've met people who self harm, we've interviewed them in class, heard their stories, got to understand them and therefore know that this is something prevalent to any age or year, the youngest person we met was 18 and started cutting at the age of 13 with a blade from his abusive fathers shaving kit. I repeat, I do not support/condone it, it is dangerous even if it's done without the intent of suicide it could still result in many problems including death, don't do it, I'm writing a fiction story in which a character has a real life dynamic. Love, Kat.