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

12. Echoes Of Demons

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: Hey everyone, as promised 13 will be posted with this shortly. I'm just uploading everything on the other sites as well. Love to all the readers and my wonderful beta JustJJ and the darling awesomella for all the effort they put into this fic as well.

Quick questions/replies Lana Del Rey? I completely understand, that song is a good one to listen to for this fic. Sorry I missed your message before. Journal comments? Yes it's possible to share your thoughts on my journal, the link is 'reply' at the end of the chapter, however I respond on all my sites so whereever you leave your questions I'll get back to you.

Enjoy Love, Kat;)

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Dine and Dash

*~*~* Chapter Twelve - "Echoes of Demons" *~*~*

'With a fierce action of her hand, as if she sprinkled hatred on the ground, and with it devoted those who were standing there to destruction, she looked up once at the black sky, and strode out into the wild night.' (Charles Dickens)

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Run…

It was what I knew.

It was what I did.

Even in the nightmare, I ran.

The only difference between my reality and my subconscious was that in my dream, I was running towards my demons…

I ran straight from my room, burst out the front door and stumbled my way into the forest that would lead me to Dad and Renee. My mental purgatory would always claim me come nightfall. But tonight, even in my unconsciousness, I could tell it was different.

Like being submerged under water, I was lost in a bubble of thoughts that pounded deafeningly in my semi-lucid state of sleep. My chest heaved; desperate to draw breath for my burning lungs. But the pain was bearable. The demon of pain that usually incapacitated me to the brink of death almost every night held back slightly.

Bearable?… Change.

Somewhere in my subconscious there was a safety net holding me. An elusive shadow that cloaked me and kept my head above the tumultuous torrents of emotional tortures that would soon demand my life in payment; A darkness that shielded me from the demon's view, hiding me in its black depths.

One foot in front the other, I kept running, each step turning me into the cursed child. Pushing myself to run faster, I fought against the forces trying to keep me away.

I ignored the blistering of my feet on the harsh ground, needing to get to the house to find something that I'd missed before. Jake's child-like bellow, asking where I'm going, follows me as I cut through the dark, unforgiving forest. I don't stop to answer the worried boy on the porch. The house, I have to get to the house. But I had no time to answer, something was calling me there and it made my soul tremble, an ominous feeling telling me that there was more change… something waiting for me.

My heart pounded desperately, using my veins to convey its message, Dad needed me. A whisper crept icily up my neck. One word. Renee.

The bubble strained and contorted disturbed. There was another change.

I didn't know how or why but I didn't question it. I panted loudly, every lungful of air burning my chest. The evil moss covered earth pierced my skin in punishing shards. But I couldn't let it stop me. Even when I knew, for this first time… I was leaving a blood trail in my wake. One more change.

Why was the dream changing?

I fought hard against the pain, needing to see Renee for myself. The photograph of the woman holding me with loving arms didn't match the woman who left hating me. I was desperate to see the woman from the photo, to feel her warmth, even if it was just this once through a fragmented dream in my own head. My heart would accept anything from her. I missed her…

My breathing grew shallow as I watched a cloud form. Rapid waves and a silhouette, the water broke and a voice flooded my mind. "She's your mother"; I heard the familiar voice and comforting words. "You're allowed to wonder about her, no one can hold that against you".

Jacob.

My palm reached out towards it. I tried to scream out to him for help, but it was useless. The cloud disappeared like smoke between my fingers, leaving me with the memory of the simple words that caused both immense relief and inner turmoil.

The thoughts I buried deep inside me a long time ago, bubbles up to the surface like a volcano and threatens to erupt. What would a normal family life have been like? Having a simple, normal family with a mother who loved me? I watched as the smoke turned my vision hazy and slowly the photograph I'd found came into focus. This time my fingers refused to lift and touch it, fearing that it would disappear…

How could she leave after looking at me with such love in the photograph? What made her stop loving me? The familiar feel of my sides hurting and chest heaving welcomed me as I broke through the trees. I was bulleting toward our house when the force of my admittance of my desperation to see my mother breaks through my mental walls. My heart constricts and my child self remembers Charlie is in pain. She's killing him. I had to save him? Maybe save her? I had to do it; even if I was destined to die here.

My first step on the porch sent me back to my room. A sixteen year old girl lay in the bed instead of the three year old that had lain there all those years ago. Now that Jake had told me, I remembered and tasted the blood as I hid there. The irony was not lost on me. It didn't matter how old I was, I thought to myself… the demons were still the same.

The comforter kept me covered as Renee's words filtered through the door, torturing me like they tortured my father. I grabbed at the comforter trying to pry it off me. I had to get to the next room! But it tangled and choked me, harboring my attempts and preventing me from saving anyone.

In my mind's eye, I picture Charlie's tired face. He'd pulled his double shift at the station. Now he stands quietly watching her wreck the room and grabs her bags. He looks at the shattered glass pieces on the floor and bed, and wonders what he's done to displease her, what had gone wrong. He looks confused; he looks angry; he looks heartbroken. Her words shock and hurt him, all while he tries to tell her to keep her voice down lest she wake me. I hear her curse our family to the depths of hell in return. Her words kill him slowly as he looks on, saying nothing to stop her as she dispels her troubles onto his tired soul.

Fear for my father gripped me tightly. No one would protect him when I died. I needed to get to him.

Putting my all into my fight, I cried out when I couldn't win the battle. I screamed desperately for someone to help him. Jake! Sarah! Edward! Anyone to stop Renee! Tell her she's hurting him! Ask her why she's doing this! To tell her to stop!

The familiar feel of blood started to seep from my body. I'd reached the point when I was supposed to die; when I close my dream eyes forever, just to wake up covered in the issues of reality. But it was taking longer, I realized with dread, there was another change happening.

There was more copper on my tongue. My cheek stung where she had struck me. Two conflicting images bombarding my mind. One of a woman who nursed, nurtured and doted on a baby in front of a Christmas tree and one of a woman who not only turned her back on her family but tried to destroy them before she left.

But the dream was finding sick pleasure in the pain it was causing. I could practically hear its silent message to me, telling me to bear witness. And so I did. Forcing myself to see I watched as she fled, leaving us behind; her tears hidden from us in the night.

Nothing is happening the way it's supposed to, I wasn't dying this time. Something was dreadfully wrong. I scream in horror. It's impossible but I feel it when my wrist is cut open.

Before Edward could come, the unknown that I had felt approaching since the start of this nightmare seized its opportunity, knowing his arrival would save me. Every change lead to this moment. This, the part where I would normally wake up, instead grew blurry.

Suddenly, I still.

An icy whisper runs down my neck, making my spine crawl. Renee. I looked sporadically into the darkness trying to find the source. I breathed in, a wasted breath; somehow knowing these would be my last. I felt the blood trail slower.

"Edward..."

It was no longer a question.

I knew it was him.

I couldn't see him but I could feel him, cocooning and protective. There is safety in his mere proximity. He's a savior in the dark, my hero in a villain, a shadow shrouding me in his safe darkness.

My mind slowed, the blood trickling down my fingers stopped. This was the drastic switch, one that was fierce, standing out so plainly it couldn't be ignored. It scared me so irrevocably in my subconscious that I knew for certain the after effects of it would haunt my reality.

The dream didn't end and even with the help from my loved ones in reality, I was in this one alone.

The blood that would normally slowly leak back into my wound and heal me, as I was lifted higher and higher didn't. Instead it froze, a result of two conflicting forces - one preventing my death, the other predicting it - an impasse.

My eyes are tired and wary. I'm in that limbo between dying and living. My head slants to the side listlessly and I watch the door to my bedroom as it fades out until I'm standing on the porch facing the front door.

This was impossible. I wanted out! I wanted the dream to stop.

Time itself had stilled. An eerie silence engulfed the void outside my front door giving way to a whisper, a haunting call, a thrilling sense of dying from the inside. Renee…

A silhouette appeared with tear stained cheeks. They shattered and broke, soundlessly falling from her dark familiar eyes to her broken daughter. The glassy tears that normally slit my wrist splintered and disintegrated against my shield, allowing nothing more to harm me.

I could see her… with her heart-shaped face, laugh lines at the corners of her dark, beaded eyes as she stares, unmoving. I shut down.

For a fleeting moment, before I could analyze anything important, I was just a girl, looking at her mother. A simple pleasure that made my throat run dry because I didn't actually have it at all.

My head went into a tailspin, horrified. Iciness shoots down my spine like someone just walked across my grave. It's a cursed premonition of something that could change everything…

She could see me…

My body convulsed violently. I heaved for breath. My heart tore open with a fierce force, shooting acid into my gut. Oh god, what was happening?

"Isabella."

A spoken word.

My name.

I gasped for air feeling like I was drowning. The sound left her lips, red and matted, dry from her blatant venom and hidden tears. It wrapped around my name in a way that hurt and warmed at the same time. The first memory of my mother speaking my name and it's a figment of my imagination. The irony is not lost on me.

"What?"I speak, not even comprehending what I'm doing as yet. The sound is dull and my eyes are sharp. If I was asking her to repeat my name or what she had called my name for, I had no idea, but I held my chin still while my insides quivered. I'd never let her see the damage she caused.

"What are you doing?"

She responds. I gasp quietly, unable to believe it. She could hear me. It was horrifyingly unsettling.

My ears strained to burn this voice to memory lest it never be heard again. Her voice was soft and sweet without being too much; it reminded me of Sarah's. Her eyes were a dead, tired pool of warmth and yearning that belied her purely evil presence. I could feel the hate rolling of her in waves.

"I don't owe you anything." I don't answer her question. Shaking my head to try to clear it, I blink away the wetness blurring her form before me. I wanted them to go away so I could keep seeing her. I hated her. But the masochistic part of me wanted to relish this moment, the closest I'd ever been to her that I could remember.

She sneers, a smirk of hate and mocking, taunting, brutal… need? "It's a nightmare. You never survive. Why do you come back?" she asks. Her eyes look older on her young face. It's heavy and doesn't match her wicked presence and the evil she exudes.

"Life's a nightmare. But I'm still living." I shoot back defiantly, my brows furrowing. As long as I have a choice, I will keep living.

"Living Bella?" she asks, her voice a soft kiss in the unreal, icy air around us. "You're dying."A scoff of hurt and cruelty… at her or me, I'm not sure, but her eyes are winning. Her face is still unreadable, but the tears still slip down her cheeks.

I don't get her.

I take a step forward. It's unintentional. She mirrors it. We stop in sync.

"You hate me so much, why are you crying?" I ignore the heaviness building up in my throat as I force out the cutting words.

"You can draw blood from a rock, baby," she breaths out. More tears spill. She speaks in such riddles, but it's soft and I wonder of the truth behind the words, questioning the sentiments. I scrutinize her. Wondering if she's talking about me or herself?"Wounds you give yourself bleed the most." She whispers, throatily. Another riddle. She tips her head forward, and I realize with unease she's possibly speaking of us both. "Look at your hand, Bella."

My eyes flitter down to myself.

Blood.

It's not just my wrist, I'm covered in it. It sticks my hair to my head. It lines my arm. I taste it on my tongue. It's everywhere! Unmoving. It's frozen in place by the unseen force shielding me.

My wide eyes dart back to Renee, wondering where she fits in, if she fits in at all. Her tears are flowing faster. So are mine. I cry and wail and stare at my body, covered in deep, dark crimson. I'm scared out of my mind and I desperately want it to stop. My tears move with hers, piercing and ripping me open. Wound after wound, until the shield isn't enough to save me. The blood holds still but the wounds grow too rapidly. Every sob from her mixes with my terrified ones until I know she's right. I'm dying. The only difference is I don't know what's killing me anymore. I wonder, fleetingly, if her tears are against me or for me.

"Living child," she whispers, in a melody. Her near black eyes lock on my fast fading brown ones, filled with pain and warmth, contradicting the menacing, patronizing smirk stretching across her face. She sobs softly and sings, familiar and rich in ache, each word bringing me closer to death. I struggle and she just watches, shaking her head slowly from side to side. My eyes close as my life seeps out my body and I hear the fleeting notes carry out in the emptiness. "Nightmares in the garden, a garden full of roses, strawberry kisses, Angel breath whispers, sleep baby, sleep..."

"Bella?"

My head pounds, my heart aches and my throat constricts with the fear lodged in it.

"Bella." I hear again. It's sharp with concern.

My naked body is pulled away from a hard bare chest. Warm, solid hands cradle my face. I focus hard on them trying to pull myself out of the semi-trance.

"Bella. Look at me." My matted hair is brushed away and some of the harshness has dropped from the masculine voice.

I open my eyes, blinking rapidly. Groggy from sleep, I rub at them with the heels of my palms. Stretching like a feline, I reopen them slowly. A soft smile tugs at my lips as I sit up because there's a perfect, dull ache between my legs that reminds me where I am.

It's really dark out the large windows, telling me it's still ridiculously early. The gold sheets pooled at our feet, tiny traces of blood staining them as evidence of our activities. I lift my eyes further to see him sitting at the side of the bed, watching me, in the florescent light of the room. He's got on a pair of boxers and his hair is fitting. His bronze and copper sex hair is shooting out in all directions in its usual disarray. I can still feel the texture of it in my hands from fisting it earlier this very morning. My thighs clench together. It feels awkward, but the light wetness building there is easing the feeling. The stubble on his face looks inviting suddenly, and my palms ache to feel it scratching at my skin. The lean muscles of his torso and arms are free to my view in his shirtless glory. I rake my eyes upwards and gasp softly when my brown crashes with his depthless oceans of severe green.

His thumb brushes against my cheek. I frown at his expression, not knowing why he was looking at me that way. Subsequently he pulls the pads of his thumbs down and in front of my face. Only then do I feel the tears staining my cheeks to my ears. I feel a slight panic building.

"Who's Renee?" his voice is precise and deep.

Swiftly, I find myself unable to breathe. The question shocks me and brings my dream back into my mind. Apprehension wedges like a blade in my trachea, while an irrational, deep rooted fear injects itself into my spine. I wasn't prepared for the question. Honestly? I was still drunk on sleep. I couldn't even fully remember my dream just yet.

Trying to get a read on myself, I gather my fleeting thoughts and realize with alarm that I have no idea how to answer him. On any other day, I would tell him. It would be so difficult, but I'd do it, because Edward is uncharacteristically honest with me and I owe him it, but today it's too much. This dream has me more mind-fucked than I can ever recall being before. Until I can make sense of it myself, or at least give myself enough time to let it all settle, I can't talk about anything dealing with her.

There are too many feelings running through me as I recall vague pieces of my dream. I've never spoken to anyone about the dreams. I never want to. It's too difficult to keep it together as things stood, I didn't want to bring this up and mess up everyone's lives again. It took a lot of work to get to where we are now. Telling them about the dreams would cause nothing but unnecessary reopening of old wounds. I decided a while ago that I wouldn't let my family, both blood and other, make anymore sacrifices for me.

And Edward was someone I never wanted to burden either. I'd tell him who Renee was but this one simple question would force me to talk about it. He'd need a full answer if I said Renee was my mother. Of course he would because, bloody hell, I was crying in my sleep!

Had I said anything else in my sleep besides her name? I internally groan when I remembered that this isn't the first time he's witnessed the reality effects of my nightmare. The night he kidnapped me, he'd heard me call for him.

Jesus Christ! Fine mess you've got yourself into Bella. What was I supposed to say now? Yeah Edward, so Renee's my mother, whom I conjured up in my head? Talk about me being a head case, right? I have to conjure one up because, well, you see, I don't have one, she left hating us all and wishing we all died. How's yours doing?

Then my mind stops berating myself and slows to a halt… A key factor suddenly crashes to the forefront of my mind like a tidal wave.

I'd seen Renee.

I seriously fucking saw her!

The dream changed! She spoke to me! I heard her voice! Oh God… I- I died.

Great! Just fucking great!

I sit mutely, letting the sad and anxious remnants of confusion from my dream settle in.

The silence stretches and when I edge out my inner musings, I remember too late that I'm not alone. My eyes dart to him like a homing device, I don't need to search for his green orbs, I find them like it's second nature. He's watching me closely. Not saying anything, but reading my face and waiting for me to answer verbally, what he already sees on my face.

I suddenly feel very naked. I snatch one of his strewn shirts and pull it on, even though I know it wasn't the physical nakedness that was the problem. My head pops out the neckline and I peek at him from under my lashes, keeping my head lowered. Its shame I feel. He could see me, the not pleasant parts. Did he finally realize what a mess I was?

I can already tell that today is going to be one of those days. Thanks to the new stuff in my dream, no matter what I do, I'm going to be mind-fucked until tomorrow, at least.

His eyes are intense and his jaw is tight but his gaze coats me in care. The vein in his temple throbs as he clenches his teeth. "Bella, what are you doing?" I keep my head down. I hear him let out a low breath and his fingers curl under my chin. "Look at me."

My gaze lifts reluctantly to his.

He keeps his face in control, letting me hide my body in his t-shirt as he repeats the question while taking in my red rimmed eyes. "Who's Renee?"

My mouth opens but no words come out. He can see the conflict clear as day, looking like he's crawling out his skull trying to figure out what's going on.

I remain unmoving. I'm unable to run because I have no idea where his house is situated and I'm scared to death of staying because I'm suddenly feeling too exposed here.

What he does next shocks me. Completely unexpected, and hidden with understanding undertones, Edward gives me a solemn half-nod and presses his lips my forehead. Whatever he sees makes him not push the topic.

I want to laugh and cry simultaneously. Gratitude and irony bursting from my blood vessels. The simple fact that he knows I need time and is willingly handing it to me makes me want to let the feelings I keep hidden rushing out. It's like what I've always needed for me to let the floodgates open, is to know that Edward was on the other side of it waiting for me.

Leaning against him, I can understand those latent feelings I run from. I feel brave enough to acknowledge them. I feel scared. I feel alone. I want to cry so desperately. Its déjà vu, like I'm locked in the dream again and I'm desperate for someone to save me, tell me it's okay, that I'm not going crazy. Only here with him I have that. I don't have to be strong and try to keep it together because I don't want to send everyone into a downward spiral again. With him I can just be a girl. Not a daughter or sister, just me. I didn't have to protect him from Renee like I did everyone else.

It's surreal what an intricate role he plays in my life after such a short space of time, but I feel that pull towards him that brought him to me. I will answer him but I need to figure it out myself first. I couldn't risk blowing this with him because I was a train wreck of issues. It just wasn't worth it. Nothing was worth risking this.

He was different in ways I couldn't put into words. Without realizing it, he kept me breathing, even back when I first met him, when I didn't like him at all. In all the years I'd been haunted by the nightmare, he was the first person to ever worm into my subconscious and save me. Thinking back to the day I mistakenly burned myself while hiding behind the Lovers Tree, even though I was still fighting my attraction to him back then, he was what kept my mind from focusing on Renee. She was the pain I'd used all my life as a focus point when I was surrounded by bullshit, because the pain any memory of her brought was so powerful and all consuming, it drowned out everything else bothering me. She was a twisted dealing mechanism created by a child, one that had worked like a charm when Charlie almost lost the house, when Billy got paralyzed and when we almost hit poverty. But it didn't work when Edward was around because he was more consuming than she was.

He made everything easier without knowing anything about my past. In a warped way, my relationship with him was pure in that sense. He made me smile without trying and he was the first person in my life that did it all without the influence of knowing my past. All he saw was me and for some reason beyond my comprehension what, he saw was enough.

If he wasn't pressing the issue, I wasn't going to ruin our perfectly good Saturday. In any case, I didn't want to give him my bullshit. He deserved better. Truthfully, Charlie, Billy, Sarah and the gang, they all did. But he was the only one I had a choice with. I could spare him the extra bullshit. It wasn't important anyway.

I plastered a smile on my face and pulled back. Sensing the shift in my mood, he let me move away.

"I never want to see you cry, Bella, ever."

The sentiment is honest and sweet in that not-so-sweet way only Edward seems to be able to pull off. But I can see the threat glinting in his serious eyes. I don't doubt for one second the damage he'd do if he found the sources of my tears.

I swallow thickly, then smile at his expression and stick out my tongue. "Trust me, Shadow, I try not to look at me when I cry too." I pull at the bird's nest that is my sex hair.

He sniggers at my lame attempt at humor. Then, all too quickly, something goes drastically wrong that I don't understand.

His eyes momentarily dart to one of my hands and I watch perplexed, as every emotion he's worn since I woke up disappears and his face darkens. His gaze turns fierce, angry even.

I furrow my brow. I can't think of anything that could piss him off right now? Forcing myself to focus on the gorgeous feeling in my body, I push aside my instinctive apprehension of him, thanks to my own gang instincts and drag my t-shirt clad body towards him.

His eyes stalk my every move until I slip onto his lap. He doesn't raise his arms to hold me this time. But he doesn't move away from me either, so I try to swallow the small rejection I feel.

The feel of the heat of his skin against mine through the thin fabric of his shirt, mapped my body in gooseflesh. It was a natural injection of happiness, turning my pretend smile genuine when I concentrated on it.

I could still remember the feel of him on me, kissing me, in me. I place my lips softly against his, molding his bruised flesh to mine. He didn't move for a beat and rejection churned in my stomach again, but quickly snuck out the window when I felt him breathe heavily through his nose and kiss me back, channeling his anger. Amazingly, I loved it. The connection I felt to him, even in this fury, was deep and anchored me to him. The kiss was angry, brutal and dominating. He was marking me, prying his tongue into my mouth.

A low moan escapes my throat and I lifted my hands to fist his hair. When I tug at it, something snaps in him and I'm suddenly thrown on the bed with him hovering over me.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~ MA content available on my journal and TWCS, info at the end .~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

His lips press to my temple, "It's you, anima gemella."

I don't know what he means by it, but it makes my heart constrict tightly. Three words dying to fall from my lips before we both give in to the exhaustion.

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

Too soon for my liking, a thunderclap breaks my sleep. I feel the drowsiness taking over again but I fight it when I feel him absentmindedly stroke my hair. I crack them open and notice the room is dark.

"Did I hurt you?"

I must be hearing things.

"What?" I ask incredulously, my voice full of sleep as I turn to look at him, but my eyes haven't adjusted to the darkness yet. I sit up a little, squinting to get a read on his face. My legs rejoice in the low humming between them. It's a little uncomfortable but not too bad. Sex is my new favorite exercise. Enjoyable as it is... Yes, it's exercise, it made me ridiculously tired so going back to sleep is a must for me.

"Before," he says, "did I hur—"

"I know what you're asking," I cut him off flabbergasted. He's crazy if he thinks he's taking this from me. "Edward, you didn't break me," I reaffirm. "I loved it… I love—ed that with you, about you…" I'm sleepy and God, when I'm sleepy I apparently have no filter. I can hear his even breathing in the darkness and I thank every deity there is that I was getting too drowsy to speak, before I continued to tell him something huge that I wasn't ready for.

He kisses my temple tenderly. "You're bruised." His fingers touch my thigh where he held me.

Huh? I straighten my legs and wince slightly at the pretty ache in my core. As I lick my lips, I can practically hear him frown and I know that he can see me easily in this lack of light.

Because the next thing he says is "Fuck." It's edged in a way that tells me he's pissed at himself.

Then it starts to make sense.

"Edward, I bruise easily!"

It's true too. That's why I'm so good at applying cover up, my skin bruises quick. And my wince was due to the pain in my cooter! Not my legs! Between them! My mind corrects, though I opt not to tell him that, because from the way he took me, I'm sure he wasn't looking to introduce me to that kind of sex right after I lost my V card. He seemed angry and it was as if he was trying to expel it by making sure I was real, it was almost like he was trying to keep me real. Like he thought I was going to disappear.

I'm too drowsy to be able to figure it out now. I trail my fingers up his jaw line, feeling the stubble scratching the pads deliciously. Nothing eases the tension, even though I feel his eyes close when I get to them. He lets out a heavy harsh breath through his nose, it tickles my inner wrist and I can't help but think that I'm missing something important.

"How long you been up?" I murmur into the darkness, knowing he can see me when he opens his eyes.

"Not long," he answers.

"Well, go back to sleep." I shove on his chest. "You didn't hurt me."

He lets me push him back fully, so I can crawl onto his chest and sleep on my side against the warm, hard, naked muscles of his body while he wraps his arms around my far tinier frame, holding me like I'm something profoundly precious. I nuzzle myself into him.

My lethargy in the driving seat, I keep on talking. "I want a repeat performance tomorrow," I feel his chest vibrate, "and Wednesday." I mumble again, "and Labor Day... and Christmas Day... and every day..."

When I'm awake, I'm going to remind myself to never speak when I'm sleepy.

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

The next time I woke, it was at a far more reasonable hour. Edward was already up and remained all kinds of broody. Whatever had pissed him off earlier on still hadn't dissipated.

Maybe it had been because I didn't answer about Renee after the strange behavior I exhibited while having the nightmare. I mean, I can only imagine what I looked like when he woke me up this morning. I could still remember the burning in my eyes from the tears I'd unwittingly cried through my sleep.

But still, I thought he'd decided to respect my privacy or something along those lines? In fact I was certain of it. I knew Edward that well, at least, right? Right. And for that reason, none of this made any sense. Why was he so angry?

It is with these 'happy' thoughts that I stand in his shower. The spraying hot water collects and cascades down my sated body, easing my muscles, however it's the new revelations that are actually washing over me. With warm steam surrounding me, I finally admit to my conscious self that a part of me missed Renee. A part of me reveled in the fact that I'd heard her voice and a part of my heart broke because this Renee was nothing but a dream. Part of me missed her even if she wanted to hurt me in it. It was the novelty of just having a mother, even if it was a nightmare. How pathetic Bella. You had to dream up a mother.

I drag my hand across my face, swiping away the water and rubbing at my cheeks, as I take a deep breath, thinking. I analyze the changes in the dream and their possible triggers, such notable changes after so many years of this recurring nightmare.

Jake. I'd heard Jake's words in the dream saying it was okay to miss her. That would explain why I actually dreamed her up so vividly. It was like I was given the green light that I had no idea I'd been waiting for all this time. Someone thought it was okay for me to miss her. I groan when something else occurs to me, why didn't the nightmare change on the actual day Jake spoke them to me at the beach? Why had it taken so long for it to come to pass in the dream?

I shudder at the assailing thoughts that question is met with. Edward. I opened my mind to it because he was with me last night.

Great!

I'm a crazy as fuck mess who needed someone to point out to me that I missed Renee and say it was okay to feel that way. Then I needed someone physically anchoring me in reality so my subconscious could admit to myself for the first time that I missed her…

I'm a mess. Really, I'm a walking bloody mess. And I'm a selfish bitch who is taking everyone down with her. The closest contender is still my mother, but now I fear the biggest fucking demon in my life is me.

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

Getting out the shower before I start to wrinkle seems like a good idea so I quickly grab a towel and dry off. With my palms braced on the counter, I collect myself. My reflection gazes back at me, as I take a deep breath and put on my happy face. It works like a charm because I know Edward is somewhere in this very house. I lost my virginity today and I'm not going to kill my buzz by sulking over a mother who didn't want me in the first place. I'll mull things over when I'm alone but for now, that's it! Wrapping the large golden towel around my body, I step out the steamed bathroom and after a brief pause to clear my head, I'm crossing the hall.

When I get to his room I tighten the towel around me, trying to figure out where he is and if I can use his clothes. He had said he had something for me to wear when we came home, didn't he? There was a sealed toothbrush for me in the bathroom so I'm going to assume I'd heard right and I can freely ransack his closet for a shirt or something.

My eyes flit to the bed where he had been sitting, legs apart and feet firm to the floor when he told me the bathroom was down the hall. Edward was riled up a way I couldn't place. I could tell from the tension in his muscles, the hardness of his eyes and the stiffness of his jaw that there was something wrong with 'us'. He didn't smirk like I had expected when I walked to the bedroom door in the same shirt he'd taken off me earlier today. Instead, when I had looked back at him, he had been leaning his elbows on his knees and watching with his head lowered. He looked like he could cut a fucker.

I tilt my head against the door frame and hear an indistinct thumping sound somewhere behind me.

It's a THUMP, heavy and forceful, followed by a pause, then a double THUMP!

Frowning, I turn and stare down the hallway, trying to decipher where it's coming from exactly.

With light steps, I cautiously make my way across the floor, looking at the three remaining doors to find the source. The thump is followed by a grunt this time and I know I'm getting closer so I pass the first door and track the sound to the second door that I stop outside off.

Tipping my head in, I fuck my mind over six ways to Sunday. It's a makeshift workout room. Much like the rest of the house, he hasn't bothered to do any actual decorating. From my peripheral vision, I see tags and symbols sprayed carelessly here and there on the bare walls. However, I keep focused on the heart of the room, where he moves immaculately, pounding a swaying punching bag like it fucked him over on the biggest deal of his life and then stole his favorite bitch.

Whoa, I've seriously spent too much time with Seth in my lifetime.

Shaking my head at the Sailor Bella residing in it, I walk in slowly navigating between the strewn weight disks and equipment lying around.

Despite my natural stealth, I know he's aware I'm there because his head tilts backwards fractionally before he stops himself from turning. He continues going at the bag as if I'm not there. If I don't move on my own, he will not call out me.

I don't know what's going on but on impulse I halt my steps at the workout bench, keeping it between us. I place my palms on the cool metal of the barbell suspended by its frame above it, watching him, transfixed, as he moves. His movements are powerfully precise and filled with extravagant ferocity. He's wearing fingerless padded boxing gloves and I know that can't be too healthy, but he seems completely unfazed by it as he goes at the bag. I don't want to draw attention to myself in the mood he's in, so I say nothing to question it.

Sweat pours down his body and the muscles of his back and arms flex with every punch he throws. The sight is so familiar, that if it weren't for the ink covering most of the tissue of his back, I'd be transported to La Push where I'd grown accustomed to the vigorous workouts the Wolves indulged in daily. The next resounding thwack pulls me from my musings and I watch him quietly as he belts out his anger at the bag with his fists. Part of me is afraid, because I've never seen him like this and I have no idea what's going on. Unsure of what to do, I remain standing where I am, wondering what's happened to get him so angry that he's pushing himself to the point where I can practically feel the burn of his muscles in my own body.

My body, of its own volition, moves in a slow circle around the bench, ignoring the jackhammering of my heart behind my ribcage, until I'm able to see his face. My steps falter and his eyes dart to me malevolently when he sees me keep the bench between us. His face is expressionless; he smirks coldly at my wariness. I swallow back the lump that forms in my throat when he turns his attention back to the bag, seamlessly keeping himself aloof. His face stayed stone hard and his veins pulsed wildly throughout his exposed body, creeping like thorny vines up his arm, throbbing with each flex of his bicep at each punch he threw. Furious and fierce, he went at the bag. Grunt and punch after grunt and punch, satisfying crunches of the bag under his violent fist. Sweat dripped down his face, streaking his body and dripping towards his low hanging pants. His dog tags bounce aggressively with each movement of his body and glint when it catches the light.

"Edward?" I called softly, watching stray sprays of his salt as they dropped to the floor as he braced his hands to halt the bag.

He stood still but remained unsettled behind his calm farce. He didn't look at me. Instead, he continued to stare straight ahead and wiped the back of his wrist across his mouth, waiting for me to speak. He was keeping himself at arm's length, like I was used to him doing with everyone else. It stung bad, and I suddenly felt myself doubting everything.

Maybe I'd got it wrong?

Was it because I didn't answer him? What if what he'd seen on my face after my nightmare had made him decide I wasn't worth it? Was it because he felt stronger about my connection to the Wolves now that we had sex? Maybe this was about sex? Had he gotten what he wanted and now wanted to cut me loose?

Dread filled me harder and faster than I could ever imagine anything besides that wretched dream being able to accomplish. From the pit of my stomach, the nausea bubbled up to my throat as an endless pool of maybes continued to fill my head. Blood pounded wildly in my ears and before I knew it, the words started to fall from my lips. "Is it because you got me to give it up?" I ask, surprised how composed I sounded, even though my voice came out softer than a breath.

"What?" his head snapped to me sharply. I flinched from the look on his face. He was pissed. He was looking at me like I'd grown a second head, only he was really angry about it. "What the fuck are you on about?"

My heart plummeted to the pit of my stomach. His head cocked to the side and he watched me curiously. My eyes stung and it must've shown because that's when something dawned on him and his face drastically switched. His hand moved towards me and I took a step away despite the fact that he couldn't actually reach me with the bench between us.

"Fuck, babe. No!" he said, frustrated, coming after me, his strides lengthening significantly when I backed away again.

"Bella," My movements are halted by his gloved hand locking around my forearm. "Don't," he warns almost with a hint of desperation when I try to break his hold and step away. "It's not that," he says exasperatedly. Then slips back into his initial annoyance, "are you crazy? Why would you think that?"

I recoil and he steps closer, dropping both his voice and gaze at my reaction. "Fuck." He runs a hand through his hair haphazardly, expelling his frustration on the soft, copper spikes. Sweat flicks off the tips. "Piccola— Look— I'm sorry— Fuck—" he growls. It goes deadly quiet for a moment before he gets his shit together with visible effort. "Why would you think that?" he asks quietly, looking at me.

I don't answer, because I have no idea what his behavior's about, if not that. I can't bring myself to ask if it's because of this morning. Him waking up to me crying in my sleep is both painful and embarrassing, that shit would burn so bad.

"This isn't about sex Bella." There's a controlling firmness in his voice that screams to me it's the truth. "You're mine. I'm not going anywhere," he reassures and my breath catches. I don't miss that he kept his eyes locked to mine emphatically when he said that. It's like he knows something without me having to say it. "And you're not going anywhere either." His fingers tighten on my arm pulling me closer.

I say nothing. I wasn't able to at this point. I really, really, wanted to believe him but my own demons kept grating my brains to sawdust. I had no idea what his anger could be due to if it wasn't him rejecting me or about sex?

His eyes burn down on my face.

"The shit you— Cazzo! (Fuck)" He was having a hard time wording everything properly through his fury, but I could see the effort he was making and it made me relax into his hold. Edward saw something in me he was willing to try for and I'd be damned if I let him do it alone, because let's face it, as of this morning, I realized I required some work.

"I don't do this. But I l—" he exhales sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I keep it fucking straight with you." His stance holds me in place more than his close-to-painful grip as he continues, "Why the fuck won't you?" His fingers traced my inner wrist, trailing my burn expertly without removing his gaze from my face. "Patience isn't a trait I'm known for Bella."

Then it clicks.

Why he was so angry and annoyed.

He'd seen the burn when I pulled my hair back.

Reflexively, I try to snatch my hand back but he doesn't let go.

His eyes narrow to cold slits and he effortlessly fights my struggling. "What's going on?" he demanded low. His voice alone told me not answering this one wasn't an option.

"I didn't—" Mean to. I complete the thought in my head and don't voice it. Best morning of my life followed by the shittiest fucking day ever. I was too mind-screwed right now. All I wanted to do was pull a Bella and run.

He kept his eyes trained on me. They were burning me with compulsive protectiveness. He didn't want to wait. He wanted to demand. I could see the battle warring in him. I pull harder, trying to free myself, but it just makes him tighten his grip.

"You said you'd stop," he hisses through his teeth. This time he was apparently deciding to call me on my bullshit.

"I know." My voice is weak and all kinds of pathetic to my ears. I need to get out of here…now. "I just- Edward- It's just-" my head throbbed. I swear to God, forming a sentence wasn't usually difficult for me but bloody hell, if I didn't feel retarded right now!

I didn't know what I was doing when I was doing it. It was like a trance. But how did I explain this to him? How do I explain that I was terrified by everything that was happening? Because this scared me shitless, and yet somehow it also admittedly sustained me. "I don't know what I'm doing, Edward."

"Really?" he asks. His condescending tone makes me flinch. He ignores it this time. "Cause I have pretty fucking great idea."

His tone is biting, matching his stare. I inhaled sharply and look away. Dying in my embarrassment. He remains firm even though he tries to expel the fierceness with a heavy breath down his nose. He didn't back down anymore than that. He wanted answers.

"I tried the patience shit Bella," he says seriously, "I want to know what's wrong. Now."

"It's—" I'm abruptly cut off.

"I know what it is, Bella. I recognize the what part," he snarls with absolute surety. His eyes flash. "What I want to know is the why."

Swallowing against equal parts fear and shame I make myself look him in the eye. "I'll tell you, Shadow," I promise, because I'd decided that this morning already. I'd be honest with him about Renee and anything else dealing with it. "I-" Pausing to clear my throat of the defeat clogging it, I try to collect my thoughts as fast as possible. It doesn't work. "I just need time."

I hold my breath and wait. Seconds tick on. I feel my skin prickling. This may be it. That's the honest to God best I can offer right now, without me completely losing my sanity. But my honesty and call for time before I'd answer him may also not be the best he's looking for.

I can feel him searching my face. For answers or truthfulness, I'm sure. But when he nods his head once, though it was stiff and sharp, I let out a huge breath in relief that I hadn't known I was holding. Even if his scowl never died, at least I had some time to get my head right before having to go down this road.

More importantly, though, we were still here, together.

The frown almost joining his brows at the middle never fades and when I burrowed into his chest after I threw my body into his, I feel mine pull together too. I couldn't honestly believe it. He'd let me have time even though he knew what I was doing. In the back of my mind, I wondered if my nagging suspicion that Edward knew how to handle my situation was true, because the uncharacteristic patience and care he was treating this with since seeing my cut when he'd kidnapped me from La Push, was hard to ignore. If he'd seen it before, who was it with?

Shutting my eyes tight, I comprehend that I completely lucked out landing him… he simply was more than I deserved. I kissed him above his heart and I felt him lower his head to my hair.

"Not a lot of time Bella," he whispered seriously, clarifying that he wasn't letting this go for long.

I know he's not patient, so this was really more than I could ask for. I didn't argue, because as he said it, he finally wrapped his arms around me too. I felt easiness seep into my bones and relax me. We were okay. I nodded in agreement. I'd agree to anything right now, I was that grateful.

"One more mark on your body..." It's a warning and I don't miss it as he lets it hang in the air, incomplete.

"I don't mean to." My unconscious whisper is buried into his sweaty chest where I hid myself from him, but he hears it anyway.

"I know," his velvet voice is deep and firm.

It's the simplicity of those two words and the outside understanding it implies that has me craning my neck to look at him. I tilt my head up to catch his lips, pouring out my insecurities, questions and gratitude into it. He stood still momentarily, before responding and letting me kiss him. It's searing and possessive on both sides. With his head bowed, I can easily rest my forehead against his when I finally pull away.

"You keep me above the water." I offer him what little assurance my current state of mind-fuckery allows me, after the strange dream that filled my tummy with foreboding that something bad was coming…

"Just keep my head above water, Edward," I whisper with lowered walls, allowing my eyes to show my internal turmoil and fears. I let him see the plea for help and all the answers he craved that I can't yet voice, giving him something sincere in return for him being more than I deserved.

His eyes burned brilliantly as he looked down at me, seeing it all. No words escaped his lips. I knew he wouldn't speak. I didn't need him to. I knew him. I saw what I needed to in the blazing hard windows to his soul that stayed connected to mine, darker and more furious than I'd ever seen before. I saw the promise he wouldn't speak.

Jesus Christ, I wish I could see myself through his eyes. See why he's sticking with me when there are far less complicated girls vying for his attention. But for now I've gone so far past the seriousness of this morning I just want my bubble back. "I'm sorry," I say into his mouth. Taking his lips between mine and sucking softly I lose myself in the moment completely, holding on to the normal pleasures for dear life. Edward. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me," he hisses angry in a whole new wanton way, as I clutch him tighter. Gooseflesh runs down my body, an insatiable burn started between my legs and I wrap my arms around his neck to pull him closer. He responds by pressing his body protectively into mine, clutching me painfully against him as he speaks into my lips, "I told you I'd protect you from everything. You better fucking believe I'll do it even if it's up against you, Bella," he promises darkly.

His words wrap around me in feral, possessive fury. A protective coating that locks me to him. This kiss is a crazy, angered need to be closer. I'm growing needy too, and fast. I need him closer and I can feel him demanding it too. His tongue slams against mine, curling and sucking, forcing it into his. My body reacts instinctively and I go back at him with everything I have. A low moan erupts from my chest as his scent, salt mixing with the smoke, spice and soap, fills my nostrils, making me heady. "Edward."

"Yeah, anima gemella?" He growls low, smacking his lips to mine between every word and backing me up till my spines pushed against the barbell.

"Ahh," Holy! "Oh my, Gah—" I gasp into his upper lip, when he bites down on my lower one. My legs rub together and my body instinctively recalls how good sex feels. The burning coil in my stomach eagerly fires up again.

"Shit," he hisses like he's in pain, when he feels my legs moving against each other. "I can smell you, Bella." I feel his throbbing cock against my stomach. His voice is husky and wickedly low, "you want it again Cappuccinetto? Me inside you?" He asks, lustful.

God yes! I scream in my head throwing it back in pleasure when he sucks down my neck to my collar bone then back to my ear. I can't answer him, I'm breathing too heavily for the words to form on my lips.

"How are you feeling?" I hear him ask between my rapid panting.

"Awesome," I answer. Confused and high on lust, it comes out as a strained, breathless growl.

I hear Edward snigger, his breath fanning out on my overheated skin. I don't have a chance to react because, suddenly, he grips the towel roughly, pulling it apart and exposing me milliseconds before pulling me flush against his hard body again. " Here," he practically fucking coos, his voice unmistakably raspy. He rubs the glove against my lips, pressing them lightly to part the wet flesh.

"Oh! Fuck— Edward—" It's a half moan, half wail. He smiles into my hair when he catches my button in one hard stroke and feels how rapidly I'm growing wetter.

He chuckles condescendingly. It's cute in my head as I see the familiar wicked playfulness in his lopsided grin. "Yeah baby, we'll fuck," I pouted but he ignored me, lowering his head to whisper straight in my ear, "but how are you feeling, Cappuccinetto?" His breath ghosts seductively across the shell of my ear and down my neck, making me shiver, while the gloved knuckles rub slower, and he curls his wrist so he can push the fingertips into me, emphasizing that he's talking about my tight, wet, tender heat.

I gasp in discomfort, then immediately regret it the second I feel him pull away from me. "I'm fine," I lie, my hands brazenly grasping his forearm trying to keep him in place.

He laughs lightly and fucking cockily, amused in a way that makes my nipples harden. I pout, because, what the fuck? He pulls his arm free of my hold easily.

Technically, this was his fucking fault. Shouldn't he take care of it! "Edward!" I huff at him and he comes back fractionally, letting me have my way.

"Bella," he says back.

"Hmm," I hum up at him.

He catches my look and laughs under his breath. "No."

I growl, "Yes!" then I blush from the roots of my hair to the tips of my toes.

He follows the blood staining my skin with entertained eyes. His head lowered, "fucking gorgeous," he says and I blush deeper, my mouth forming a small 'o'. "Keep doing that and I will fuck you."

Then why don't you!

My face must say it all, because he has this look between his eyes that seems to be utter shock mixed with amusement. "Insatiable baby," he smirks, rubbing his nose against the tip of mine, "we'll have so much fun with you," a husky, soft laugh escapes him, despite the effort he's put into keeping his face straight, "but there's no rush, anima gemella. I'm gonna hurt you like fuck if we do this right now." The tender way he's been speaking fades out in the end, in a way that says: end of discussion.

"I'm grown! I can make my own decisions," I say, folding my arms, unsuccessfully trying to keep the towel around me.

He sniggers, helping me tuck it properly, before turning away to get his gloves off. "Bella, you're sixteen."

Oh, no he didn't!

In my head, I've just slipped on gloves of my own!

I guess in a dumbass way, our usual arguments help me get off the lust, fractionally. But then, I'm instantly all for this, because I know he's trying to distract me, and lord help me if it isn't working.

"Didn't stop you this morning huh, adult?" I shoot back with a smug grin. Charlie would be a proud man if he knew how much I absorbed from his job. Well, minus the whole deal about me losing my V card, but details, details.

Edward does a double take at my insinuation. His eyes widen and his brow cocked saying, the fuck?

1 point for Bella!

I mentally pat myself on the back, and then stop abruptly when I see the smirk he sports when he sees my challenging bitch brow arched at him.

"Whoa, hold up," he looks at me incredulously, folding his arms and standing at his full height, bowing his head to look at me, "I raped you?"

I shrug, in a very Edward-like manner. He doesn't miss it. It makes him cock his own brow with playfulness dancing in his eyes.

"Statutory rape," I clarify just to annoy him, "since I'm a minor and shit."

The last part I throw back at him with narrowed eyes in my mind, because he may not know it, but it pisses me off that Kate and the other bitches are older than me… In a way, it makes me feel kinda inadequate.

Uncaringly, he lowers himself to the bench and leans back lazily, smirking as he starts his bench presses. "Bella, legalities are the least of my fucking worries," he chuckles, bar extended high above him, arms taut, "you're forgetting who I am, what I am," he wiggles an incredulous brow at me, "the law can go fuck itself," My pulse responds to his smirk as it turns devilishly wicked, his sharp teeth gleaming at me, "or it can watch me. Fuck. You. Repeatedly. Minor."

My jaw drops open a little, and I feel my heart pounding. I bite my tongue, but a low moan bubbles in my throat anyway, and I can feel how my eyes dilate.

His face turns darker, hungry again and he starts working faster to quell his frustration and rein in the lust until he just gives up and gets off the bench, barbell forgotten on the floor. He steps towards me, running his eyes slowly up my body to meet my lustful eyes with his blackened ones. Dropping his voice, he speaks deep and huskily, "You were begging for my cock, piccola."

"I did not!" I exclaimed, blushing super hard.

He follows the deep red that covers my face and disappears into my towel with a crooked smirk. Bringing his eyes back to mine, I can see I'm in deep shit in the mischievous depths of glinting green. He presses his body to mine, holding me effortlessly still when I try to squirm free and bolt. I can feel the hard length of him against my spine. He breathes down his nose, right at my ear, "Do you know how hot you are right now?" His fingertips dance, light as feathers, up and down my arms, "and naked on my bed?" He continues lewdly. My body presses back into him impulsively. "Innocent and corruptible," he runs his nose possessively loving along my jaw, breathing in deep until he's back at my ear. "Fuck, baby the way you look all wet and blushing and cumming all over my dick." The low moan I elicit causes a primitive growl to erupt from his chest. "I wanna pound you so hard right now. Can you feel it?" He whispers into my ear, "how crazy you drive me?" He thrusts his dick into me and I grind against him, unconsciously rubbing my thighs together.

"Edward, please," I whisper, eyes shut tight and my hands fisted into his hair.

He sucks on the skin of my neck harder, reddening the mark from this morning and it does nothing but make me hotter for him. My eyes roll back into my head when he blows on it, leaving a tingling, insatiable feeling growing in my belly.

"Yeah, that's how it sounded." He smacks my ass and pulls back.

My eyes fly open. What, what, what? No!

My heels dig into the floor making a squeaking sound that's! how fast I pivot in his direction with my mouth opening and closing a couple of times in a fish movement. There's no two ways about it. Edward Cullen is a cruel son of bitch who just played me at my own game!

"I hate you!" I yell at him. He doesn't even bother fighting against his laughter this time.

"Liar," he bends down to peck my lips quickly then he's out of my reach before I can clobber him.

I would've done it too, take a swing or seven at his pretty head.

But I can't do that upside down. And that's where I find myself. "Come on, I have something for you," he says when I'm swung over his shoulder caveman-style, the corners of his lips twitch and I don't fight him because I'd kill to keep him in this mood. Carefree is a good look on him.

Shit. I'm so far gone for him.

"What?" I snap, folding my one arm to place it under my chin as I dangle off my evil boyfriend's shoulder.

He turns his face and bites down on the side of my ass through the towel. I yelp and try to jump away, which makes him laugh harder. He continues down the hall towards his room.

"Stop acting like you're not enjoying this. I can still smell you."

To emphasize his point, he runs one hand up my bare thighs to the bottom of the towel that, from this position, barely covers my ass. He almost touches where I need him to but then drops his hand back down, dragging with him the wetness he's gathered from my thighs and smearing it low enough for him to lick off my skin. It's sexy as hell and I squirm restlessly on his shoulder when his hand stops and the tip of his talented tongue peeks out with one quick circular lick behind my knee, before he goes back to normal like nothing happened.

"EDWARD?" My voice just does not sound like my own. I squeak! It's filled with disbelief and merciless burning and it's too high pitched. I know all this teasing is punishment for my statutory rape quip. Me and my dumb fucking need to win an argument.

He barks out laughter and I can practically see the crinkles around his eyes and then the furrow in his forehead when he speaks again, "You're gonna be begging and sweating for it before I fuck you again, minor." He promises, like I needed the confirmation.

Fuck Bella! I curse myself venomously. You and your big mouth!

My mind fills with an erotic picture of my mouth wrapped around his glorious, thick length. I wonder if he'd like it. What would it taste like? Would I like it? Right now it sounds so good because he won't touch me. I stop my train of thought abruptly, not wanting to torture myself and find Edward looking at me over his shoulder with an indecipherable expression.

"What are you thinking?" He asks, cocking his head to the side.

I let his velvet voice coat me and I look at him, fisting my hands until my nails dig into my palms to stop myself from rubbing my thighs together. "You said I can have anything I want," I shoot pointed daggers at him. I know my neck's going to throb from the awkward angle, but I refuse to look away.

"You can," he admits nonchalantly, lifting me up and placing me delicately on my feet when we're inside his room, "but you'll hate me for this later." I guess he's done torturing me because he moves lower so that he can look me in the eye. His green orbs are clear and crystallized in the morning light, making them look more beautiful than I think I'd ever seen them. "Think about it baby," I know by his tone he's trying to manipulate me, but I can't seem to fight it. He knows exactly how to play me. Oddly enough, I find that more comforting than frightening than I would if it were happening with anyone besides him. "If I take you now, it's gonna hurt a fuckton more than when I pushed my fingers inside you," he reasons, looking me in the eye.

"We got time, baby. Lots of it." He says. His voice is a soft and velvety whisper that I listen to. He's serious as a heart attack. It's both promise and statement.

We're together.

Following his footfalls, I look to the right and see him going to his closet, stopping at his bed and coming back. I'm in too much of a daze to decipher what he's doing until he's standing in front of me. "I'm gonna shower quick. There's stuff downstairs if you're hungry."

I lean up on my toes and peck the corner of his mouth, smiling at him widely. He winks and walks out the room. I finally turn to the bed. What I see makes my heart bleed that unnamable feeling for him infinitely more powerfully.

It's a black and teal dress... It's the same black and teal dress…

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

Standing in his house feels weird now. I'm sitting on the couch flipping through channels absentmindedly while eating toast, because I'm practically setting my face on fire every time I look at the pool table or the kitchen. Both feel too familiar to me since my rendezvous. In my head I've now categorized sex with surfing. It's one of the most thrilling experiences I've had, it makes me feel beautiful, in control and happy, and my God if I don't love it.

Placing the empty plate beside me, I finger the lace at the bottom of the dress. I still can't believe I've got it on. It fits perfectly, my exact size. I'd bet my ass it's the exact same one I threw on the counter when I ran from James.

From his behavior and some of the things he's said, I know that Edward's been watching me for a while, but its surreal knowing he got me the dress I chose the first day I encountered him. I'm not sure if I have Toria or James to thank for giving him the information, but I sure as hell wanna thank him. I haven't been able wipe the smile off my face since seeing it and after the dream from hell and the subsequent fight it caused, if that's not a miracle I don't know what is. "Edward Cullen… Can I keep you?" The happy buzz in my stomach is cut off by the buzzing sound behind me.

I snatch up my now fully charged cellphone off the kitchen counter fast and look at the lit screen as it vibrates again. It had been Jared calling before my phone died this morning and I still haven't responded to his 3 missed calls so I'm surprised when I see the name flashing on my screen now. "Rach?"

"Yeah babe it's me," I hear, through loud chomping, "where you been? I've been calling home for ages," she says, through her chewing.

It takes me a second to grasp what's going on, then I quickly jump out of my momentary haze and remember where I am and who I'm now on the phone with. Thus reenters my reality, Bella Swan and the Tag-o-War of La Push and Forks. "Home!" I exclaim, then quickly rein it in with a mental palm to my forehead, "Oh, yeah, sorry Rach, I'm at my friend's place for a project. Sarah must be out." I dart a quick look at the staircase when I hear the bathroom door open upstairs.

"Makes sense, "she jokes, laughing and I know that's my cue to stop rambling. It's not like she needs justification, she has no idea as yet that I'd ever have any reason to lie to her! "You gonna be done anytime soon?"

When Edward appears in the kitchen, I decide I don't even want to know what's going on in his head from the expression he's wearing. "No," I answer Rachel, looking at Edward, "there's still a bit more we need to discuss."

Edward grins condescendingly, giving me an indication that he gives not a flying fuck about the Wolves or anything dealing with them. Thankfully, he gets distracted by his phone, digging it out his pocket and disappearing to a dark corner of doom! Okay, it's just the fireplace and he looks rather edible standing there dressed in dark Shadow colors, bracing his hand against the mantel while having a serious conversation with whoever's on the other end of the line, but I'm pissy because I know for sure that we need to have a serious conversation about the Wolves if we're gonna make this work. And he's not going to make it easy.

Regardless of the mutual dislike between them, I need to be smart about this if I'm going to stop this whole thing from blowing up in our faces. There was already too much working against Edward and me. For now, I needed to buy time until I found a way to solve our problem.

Ha! Problem? My inner Bella scoffed. There's the understatement of the century. The chances of two feuding gangs letting this go were non-fucking-existent!

She was right too. Bugger.

"Crap," I hear Rach exclaim and I start paying attention again quickly. I hear her ringing up the till then the chime of the front door to the shop. There's a pause before she's back on the line. "Okay, cool. Look, I'm out early today. Lee and I are having a girl's day to mourn her latest train wreck love life." There's a loud smack. I laugh when it's followed by Rach cursing the said monster out.

"Don't listen to her!" Lee yells in the background. Then I wish I couldn't hear her voice. "She's just pissy 'cause Paul's not around to give her any!"

"Ew!" I gag. Loudly. "Jesus —too much info, Leah!" I scream thunderously, enough for her to be able to hear from wherever she is, which garners me an odd look from Edward and a pained shriek from Rach.

"My ear, bitch!"

"Sorry," I snort out an apology, directing it to both her and Edward, who sniggers having heard Rachel's response across the room.

"Yeah, yeah, don't worry, I didn't need that one anyways," she dismisses easily. "What the hell are so many people doing here today?" she gripes her thoughts out loud.

"Car shopping," I deadpan, "I hear it's a common trend at beauty shops."

"You're a riot," she drawls, failing miserably at hiding her amusement. One of my favorite traits of Rach is that she can never keep a straight face, unless she's pissed, in which case, I race Seth and Jake out the room. "Anyway, if you free up, give me call. We'll hang out. I can't handle the shrew alone." There's another smack in the background, but this time it's Leah that yelps. "HA! Blocked, ya skank," Rach deepens her voice, "K. O."

My snigger's out before I can stop it, "I'll see how it goes." I butt into their banter, calling her attention back.

"Great," I can hear the smile in her voice, "See you when I see you. Lee say's hi."

"Tell her hey back. Later, Rach," I cut the call and find Edward watching me quizzically.

"What?" I ask self-consciously.

He shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly and goes back to spinning his phone between his knuckles. "You smoked for a while."

I don't know if it's a question or a statement but I answer for the heck of it because it's the same either way. "Yes."

He nods. I should know better than to think he'd miss anything, even me inconspicuously ducking my scalded hand behind my back but I do it reflexively.

His orbs look to my arm then back to me. "I'll make a deal with you," he speaks in his usual deep, velvety voice as he pushes off the stony side of the fireplace and moves towards me with even footing. He lights up a joint and holds it temptingly before my face. "If I let you do this," I know he's not talking about actual 'permission'. It's more along the lines that he won't moan about it, he'll ignore it like he does with everyone else, which works just fine for me. He takes a huge drag and smoke puffs out between his teeth as he speaks, "you stop that." He takes another pull and jabs his head toward my arm.

I fist my burned hand behind my back. "I already said I would," I snap defensively.

He narrows his eyes, "Sure," His voice drips with sarcastic malice, his temper quickly making its appearance. "Here's to hoping you remember that this time round."

Telling defiant Bella to shut the fuck up I shrink back, getting his meaning. I'd given my word on this to him before. When I remain quiet, he pinches the bridge of his nose and exhales, heavy streams of smoke out his nostrils, trying to calm down.

Once he's got himself in check, he looks down at me with lethal somber eyes, "Deal?"

"Deal," my voice is small and my promise is tentative because I don't know how good my word is anymore.

"Good girl." The warm, bruised lips on my forehead are enough for me to understand that he knows exactly what's going on in my head right that moment. "It's hard, Bella," He speaks seriously, but there's a softness in his voice that's almost imploring, "just focus on this," he demands quietly. I grab onto his shirt tightly and he moves closer, letting me ground myself to him. "I'll destroy anything that hurts you baby. You've got nothing to worry about. Just focus on this till that doesn't matter."

I stay locked to him for a long time. I don't know what to say back. It's a bittersweet relief that he gets me, because he's the one person I don't have to pretend with, but he's also the one person on the planet I want to be perfect for.

"What's wrong?" I ask when I feel him stiffen.

He's staring at the screen of his phone with severe intensity as it starts to ring again. "I've got to go out," he bites out in annoyance, his brows pulling together. I can tell it's for something important, because I seriously doubt Edward would cut this short for anything.

"Then go," I shrug.

His eyes scan my face, checking if I'm serious, skeptical I'd give in that easy. "I'm sorry," he frowns broodily, just to make sure. It's cute in a warped way. I wanna bite him. "I'll be back as soon as I'm done," he swears, but he doesn't have to because I can see it clearly on his face. Just like how I recognize the look that says whatever it is he's got to leave for may require a large bit off his time. I'm used to that second look. I've seen the Wolves wear it on countless occasions. "I'll drop you at Rose's if you don't wanna hang here."

His offer makes a light bulb go off in my head.

"Actually," I swing my legs off the counter and leave them hanging on either side of his hips. His hands automatically fall to my thighs, holding them unconsciously as we speak. "Can you drop me off at a friend's place?"

The conflict in his eyes only serves to confirm my suspicions that he's not sure how long he's going to be away. With great reluctance, he simply nods. "Where?" He asks meaningfully.

I give him a scowl. Would I seriously ask him drop me off at one of the Grey Wolves' residences. Call me crazy, but I'm not that bloody mental!

My answer comes out weighted from both disappointment at our weekend coming to a close and fear for the next words out my mouth. "Wood Street," I answer, before I can consider a more neutral place than the actual street Rach rents the small space for her beauty salon. No. No, Bella, what the fuck are you thinking! "Next to Wood Street," I amend.

He folds his arms and cocks his head to the side predatorily, asking me with his condescending air to continue bullshitting him. "Let me get this straight."

My mouth snaps shut immediately, not liking the tone in his voice. It's a tone that tells me I haven't given him enough credit.

"You want me," he jabs two fingers towards his chest and smirks wickedly, distaste coating his words, "to drop you 'away' from that mutt Paul's chick's place, so you can… What?" he leers, " Protect her from me?"

"Stop," I feel my own eyes narrow at him. Despite my best effort, I can't keep the hiss out of my voice. "Look, I want this," I gesture between us, "and I'm giving it my all." My lids shut tight for a millisecond at the magnitude of what I'm saying. "You have no idea how much everything is fucking with my head."

It's the truth. I've got to come clean about my past, stop hurting myself and figure out that blasted photograph. I'm not a damsel, I don't need saving. I can deal with answering him in a few days. But I have to find a way to deal with all that while still juggling my two lives of Wolf sister and Fang girlfriend. A little help from the one side that, actually knows about it, would be appreciated.

"You don't like them. They don't like you," I digress, "but fuck you both cause that leaves me in the middle. I didn't start the warfare but I'm now stuck between you, the rock, and them, the hard place. From the two gangs, you guys are the ones who know about us so you're the only ones who can help me out a bit. I'm taking you Fangs and all so a little cooperation from you isn't asking too much. You don't have to do any fucking jobs with them. All I'm asking is that you understand that they mean something to me. They mean the world to me." I'm not sure why I've given in to the verbal vomit but now that I've broached the topic, it's like my filter just flew out the fucking window! I almost regret the way I'm going about this. Almost. "If they find out about us, I could lose my family, Edward."

For some reason, my voice picks up instead of falling when I feel the defeat wash over me. It's this very second that I acknowledge this isn't a fairytale. I will lose them in a sense once the shit hits the fan.

"I'm going to lose them." Now my voice falls, before the angry tears start biting at my eyelids. "They're family. You may not understand it, but it's not a gang for me. They're part of my family that just grew up and became the Grey Wolves." I keep my chin from trembling but chew on my bottom lip. "If they find out about us, it's going to be on their own. I'm not going to help speed up the process." I clutch his hand in mine, "And please, Edward, I need you not to help it along either. So for appearances and, in your case, to prevent a war, we're just going to have to keep up the usual charade around them. I can't be bothered with big, bad Cullen and you hate me, the little sister grouped as a Wolf. "

I need this… Whatever time I have left with them I want… the only thing as hard as leaving them would be leaving you. Both are an unbreakable part of me. I add in my head.

All that can be heard is our breathing and the voices of Kanye and JayZ low in the background as MTV continues to play on the TV. When I reopen my eyes, I'm shocked when I don't see any anger… I don't see anything. His usual temper is suspiciously missing. He's just looking at me… really looking at me… trying to figure something out.

"Fine," his face remains stony and his voice is clipped, but it sure as hell isn't what I was expecting. My mouth snaps shut abruptly, the defense I was preparing to give apparently unnecessary. "Let's go."

I grab his hoodie off the back of one of the chairs and follow him towards the car. I can't help but feel apprehension build in the pit of my stomach. What the fuck was he planning?

He holds open the door for me. "For the record, I never hated you Cappuccinetto," Edward whispers down my ear as I get in, "I posed a threat." He shuts the door and moves around to unlock the garage.

I watch him the entire time, trying to figure out what's going on. My instincts tell me I've made some kind of mistake. I know he won't just give in. Not without some kind of fight at least and yet here we are, backing out into the cold driveway of his place. He hops out the car again to lock the warehouse. The screeching of the metal feels like the mental train speeding through my mind, all leading up to one specific question. What now?

I couldn't fight the nagging feeling at the back of my mind that he was going to make me change my mind.

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

The entire drive is filled with tension that only I seem to feel. We're both quiet. I'm lost in my thoughts while he seems at ease, completely in control of what he's doing. He's unaffected while I'm losing my mind trying to get into his!

"Edward-" I say too fast.

He chuckles, his cold eyes still on the road, "Yes, anima gemella?"

I wanna stick out my tongue or stomp my feet. He isn't looking at me, but he smirks widely, sinfully wicked like I'm used to. The soft roar of the engine heightens his presence in the car, he doesn't have to look at me to know my reaction, he just knows.

"Behave," I order, folding my arms authoritatively.

He grins crookedly at me. A blush slowly creeps up my cheeks. I mumble curses under my breath at myself. "I'm being serious Edward! I don't want to invite more trouble than I absolutely have to."

"Fine, Bella. Whatever," He dismisses sharply, "just be careful till I get back." He pulls over to the side of the road and cuts the engine when we're hidden in the alley just to the side of the building Rach rents her space in.

It shouldn't surprise me that he knows where to go, but it does kind of scare me that he's known all along. If I wasn't with him, if we weren't together... It was terrifying knowing that they knew where Rach was day in and day out. Suddenly, all Paul's griping about her being in Forks doesn't seem so pushy. And them always leaving me at home when they went out on 'errands' doesn't seem so unreasonable like I'd told them countless times. This really was bigger than all of us. I say a silent prayer in thanks that the Clallam County Juvenile Services is on the next street, meaning this area is covered in cops often.

"The second I'm back, you're coming home?"

To say I'm surprised would be an understatement. He was asking. Albeit, I doubted he'd take no for an answer but Edward actually asked, with some hopefulness hidden in the depths of his frustrated voice no less.

"Yeah," I nod dumbly, eyes large.

He nods and stares out the glass, gesturing for me to hop out with his palms before resting them on the wheel again. "Go."

"I'll see you when you get back?" I ask. I know for certain how he feels about the Grey Wolves and it makes suddenly, hesitant, this fight could've pushed him too far.

Chewing the insides of my cheeks anxiously I watch closely as he shakes his head and laughs under his breath, with a sharp-toothed grin shot my way. "The second I get back Cappuccinetto," he promises.

"Okay," I agree uncertainly, hopping out. Popping my head back in, I whisper, "hey, Shadow?" He raises a brow in acknowledgement and tilts his head towards me. I place a kiss at the corner of his mouth, "thanks for the dress."

He smiles, it's small but brilliant because he did it at all. "Don't thank me." He moves forward, almost kissing me, and then stops. I open my eyes and see him staring at me with an intensity that only he's capable of. His breath kisses my lips and I automatically stick out my tongue to wet them. His eyes flicker down to them. "Anything you want."

I close my eyes, letting the words waft over me and make my body hum with contentment. I let out an apprehensive sigh when he moves away without touching me. Slouching deep into his seat and revving the engine when he starts her up again.

I hop out the car and lean in the window. "Edward, promise you're not going to do anything stupid to screw things up for me back home."

He lets out a deep breath and smirks devilishly at me, a glint in his eye as strands of his bronze mane fall into them. "I promise, anima gemella, I'll do exactly what you asked." Somehow the way he says it makes me more nervous than content as I walk away. Looking behind me as I enter the street, I see him peel out the alley leaving dust in his wake.

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

The smell of coffee fills my nostrils as I walk into the little shop I'm fairly familiar with. It's a quaint space at the foot of an office block owned by an old lady, who'd look great in a Santa's suit, because she's too sweet and has a stumpy, round physique.

Last year Rach moved out her folk's place and much to the displeasure of Jake and Paul alike, she decided to keep her residence in Forks where she grew up. She wanted her independence and she wanted it quickly, after a fight with her parents over her then new relationship status with Paul. The rent for her apartment was, to put it mildly, cheap, really cheap. So she took over the place with money Jake insisted on fronting for her, cause Rach, in a bout of genius, left home completely broke. She paid him back the cash, but to make rent and ultimately live on her own, she, of course, needed a job. She took up a receptionist job at the doctor's office, followed by a sales lady job at the sports store. That lasted two glorious weeks until Paul broke the face of a customer for grabbing her ass. So then came her trying her hand at telephonic sales which, much to her gratitude, ended when she got a job here at the coffee shop before she died of utter boredom at Call-A-Bargain. She manned the front of the coffee shop until Mrs. Summers, the owner, put up a sign to let out the small space above to ease some of the bills. Rach immediately jumped at the offer and convinced Mrs. Summers to let her run a 'Mani-Pedi-Facial' business upstairs. She named it Forksy her spin on the word 'foxy'. It 's a small business. She rents a single space upstairs that's divided into 'rooms' by pretty drapes, most of her customers are the patrons from the coffee shop so it pay's the bills. Much to the surprise of us all, it's working out pretty great. Not that we'd ever admit that to her. Rach is too spontaneous the day we tell her she's doing a good job she'll close shop just to spite us.

My phone vibrates in my palm. ~ Sei molto bella – E ~

Now that's Italian I understand. All fights and apprehension are forgotten just like that. I smile as I type out my reply. ~ Grazie Shadow;) –B ~

I watch the little envelope spin across my screen until it disappears. With a new skip in my step I throw open the door and prance in, a grand entry indeed, "Honey, I'm home!"

"Well, look what the cat dragged in," Lee stops mid-sweep, with her ass still frozen in the air and the dustpan pressed against the floor with her other hand.

"Yupp," I smack my lips exaggeratedly, "when I heard how horrific your love life was I just dropped everything and came quick."

Rach snorts behind the curtain of her 'rooms' and then pops her head out.

"Haha," Leah sniggers, "whatever, Sugar, grab this for me, will ya?"

I lean over and take the dustpan from her, holding it in place while she sweeps in the dirt.

"Times when you need a camera!" Rach laughs, smacking both our asses.

Lee and I snort. Righting myself, I grab the broom out Leah's hand while she reaches for the dustpan to empty it.

"Oh, shit," she groans, grabbing her phone from the chair beside us.

"What?" I ask, trying to peek at the screen to see where the fires at. Turns out, I don't have to.

"Again?" Rachel bites back, smiling at Leah's warning glower, "seriously, gotta hand it to him Lee, guy's persistent."

Ahhh, it must be the latest addition to the Leah pile. Rach gives me a nod to confirm what I'm thinking.

"I need less persistent! Way less!" Lee grits her teeth, frustrated, "He's mental. He's crazy as fuck."

I lean inconspicuously towards Rachel as she passes by. "After she dumped his ass, he showed up outside her window and sang Unchained Melody," she whispers conspiringly.

My answering bark of laughter sets off her own.

We pull it together quickly at the glare Lee hits us with, "Shutting up," I gesture quickly between Rach and me, "please, continue with the hating."

"Just take the call and tell him you're seeing someone else," Rach suggests, grabbing the keys to Forksy.

"You're closing now?" I ask, following them both out and waiting for Rach to lock the door behind us. I check the time of my phone . 10:05

"Yupp," she pops the p, "Mrs. Claus has to go to her grandkids recital, so she'll be closed soon anyway," she says, referring to Mrs. Summers. Sweet old lady doesn't mind the nickname, in fact, the first time we used it Mrs. Summers baked us gingerbread cookies, "good thing, too, needed a day off," Rach loops her hands through mine and Leah's, leading us down the stairs. "Later, Mrs. Claus," she calls over her shoulder.

"Oh, my!" Startled at our sudden appearance, Mrs. Summers says with a hand to her chest. "You girls have a fun day," she smiles wide and crinkly at us, before going back to her customer. "Good seeing you again, Isabella."

"You too," I wave at Mrs. Summers over my shoulder, letting Rach drag us out. I shoot her a quizzical look and her less-than-innocent grimace tells me all things are not well.

I follow her gaze and see a boy mumbling to himself outside the shop. He's tall and fairly good looking. He had broad shoulders, with clothes that give him a crisp, well-bred college boy look. From the looks of him as he paces, he seems really undecided on some something.

"Brace yourself," Rach says to Lee, who goes completely still, seeing what we see.

Curiously, I watch the color drain from Leah's face, "you've got to be kidding me!" she grumbles under her breath, "what are you doing here?"

His head snaps up. From her tone, I'm going to go out on a limb and assume he's Mr. Melody.

I find this odd because, now that I can see his face, he looks really good looking to be that crazy.

"Lee," he holds up his hands defensively, "Baby, okay, I know I was a bit out of it yesterday," at Lee's pointed look, he backtracks, "okay, more than a bit. But, I swear, I was high as a fucking kite."

Now I'm rethinking the crazy thing. If he came down all this way with that as his defense, dude must be crazy.

Like at a tennis match, my head swings back to Leah.

"Liam, go home," she stresses, with forced politeness.

And Mr. Melody's name is Liam. Honestly, I favor Mr. Melody a bit more than Liam but… details.

"I know I went too far yesterday with the stripping," Liam starts to beg desperately, his face falling and I swear to God, I'd feel sorry for the guy but wait, hold the phone, What? "I swear, Lee, I didn't know your parents where home."

My eyes bug out their sockets and I start to squeeze the life out of Rach's hand. I feel her shoulder shaking violently. I can practically see her bursting on the inside, dying to either laugh or fill me in on the other details. It's innate and immediate, the need to laugh crazy un-fucking-controllably when I finally process what this guy just said and what it was that Lee prevented Rach from spilling in Forksy.

I'd have killed to have seen this. Honestly mowed down a preacher man to see it!

Neither Rach nor I give in to the humor of the situation, out of pure and simple love for our Lee girl. However, we will hold this over her head until we're senile and on our death beds.

"Liam, stalking isn't doing much better," Leah snaps pointedly, then groans, "look, Liam, you're a nice guy, but this," she gestures between them, trying and failing to keep the grimace off her face, "isn't going to work. I'm with someone else."

Liam looks bewildered, "No," he shakes his head and takes a step forward.

Instinctively, I do too. Followed by Rach.

"Okay, bro. Back it up. Now!" Rach says solemnly.

Liam looks at Rach briefly before trying to talk to Leah again.

"Mr. Mel—" I clear my throat, " Liam, you and Jake must be tight."

He looks down his nose at me, "Jake?"

I nod innocently, cause I'm trying to be helpful, " Jacob, Rachel's cousin." I jab my head toward her.

It's obvious when the connotations dawn on him. His body stiffens uncomfortably, he looks like he's gonna be sick, "Black?"

I nod in confirmation, "But you already know that, right? I mean, you must've met Seth, too?" My grin slowly increases as Liam's darts his gaze around us anxiously, taking an unconscious step back, "cause, I mean, you're dating his sister."

Liam takes another step back, progressively putting space between us, "You're lying," He says quietly.

"Why don't you stick around and find out," I challenge, pulling out my phone, "they're picking us up right about now," I draw out my words annoyingly, making the lie flawless.

Liam backs up quicker, "Yeah, whatever," he says trying to remain nonchalant, "yeah, Leah, I'm not really feeling this. You're a great girl," he adds at super speed, misinterpreting Leah's gape of 'bitch, are you kidding me right now'. "But I can't pull of the long distance thing. No hard feelings." With those memorable parting words Mr. Melody is a blur of movement, disappearing down the street.

I roll my eyes, heart of a lion, this one.

"Why didn't we think of that?" Rach thinks out loud, as we continue towards her apartment, unaffectedly.

"I cite post traumatic stress. I had a stripping serenading boyfriend in my backyard, while breaking bread with the 'rents," Leah quips, "you try thinking after that."

Rach and I nod sympathetically, "makes sense," we say.

"I'm dating Paul," Rach says thoughtfully with a snigger, "I lost my mind a while ago."

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

Rach's place is a one bedroom apartment on the first floor. It's square and divided into four parts. Kitchen, bedroom, bathroom and lounge with no dining room. It's small and prefect for her.

A year ago, this place was a dump. Jake almost shit a brick for the second time that day when we first walked in and I can still distinctly remember the 'I told you so' look Paul had shot him. Paul never wanted Rach here. He offered to move her in with him, which was the first thing that made Jake want to shit a brick, until Paul brought him here. Paul's reasoning behind his suggestion wasn't too unreasonable. It wasn't unreasonable at all. If the fact that they were dating and the place was in bad condition wasn't reason enough, the fact that she chose to live in Shadow Fang territory was a deal breaker for him. They fought for weeks after she moved in. He eventually let it go because she wanted to live a block away from her parents. He had a security system installed thanks to Jake taking his side when she argued him on it and Collin's cousin, Duncan, lives downstairs. Duncan is a college boy, he isn't involved in any gang activity but he was more than up for a fight if one showed up and he would definitely look out for Rach while she was here.

Her place looks much better now. Thanks to the work Paul puts into it, it's probably the best apartment in the rundown complex. He's painted the walls, worked with Jake to fix up the heat and wiring, and last month he ripped out the old stained carpets and called in a favor with a 'friend' to have it redone. An inexpensive one replaced it, in a simple pale yellow color, but it looks brilliant against the burnt orange, almost rust, color of her walls. Miss Independent doesn't mind him doing anything in the apartment anymore because it makes him feel better, and happy Paul is a livable one in her book.

"I just got dumped by the dumpee," Leah chortles, letting me in before she closes the door, "I don't know if I wanna kiss you or kick you, Bells," she scowls.

"Go to your happy place, woman," Rach bumps her hip hard, making Lee wince and stumble to the side where the kitchen just so happens to be.

Leah catches the hint with a grumble and goes to her 'happy place' to work on lunch, because our culinary skills may be zilch but Lee in the kitchen? Fucking A.

"No complaints," she sing songs as we collapse on the couch, "I'm freaking thrilled he's gone."

Water's put to boil and spaghetti is broken to the medium size she likes to cook them before she comes into the lounge to join us. "So, Bells, what's new? Jar said you weren't at the Res much this week."

I dig my nails into my palms, suddenly, desperate for a cigarette or a wall to separate us while I answer. "Not much. Just school." I'm about to mention my 'job' in a sugarcoated version, when Rach starts signaling with her hand wildly at her neck in a way that says 'cut it'.

I shut up and smile when Lee looks up to see if I'm really done talking. I don't blame the woman, I hadn't sounded like I was finished yet.

"Hey, I think the waters boiling," Rach distracts Lee, causing her to bolt to the kitchen to work her magic on her spaghetti. She loves cooking. She just won't admit it.

"Honey, baby, little Wolfy wonder," Rach turns to me with dramatically widened eyes, "let's not freak the freak out when she's already freaked out."

I groan, suddenly grateful. "She doesn't know about Nell' Ombra?"

"No," Rach whispers back, signaling for me to drop my voice with the Fang business, "and if you want to keep things less stressful for you, let's try and keep it that way."

I nod enthusiastically. I know Lee as well as Rachel does. If Rach is healthily laidback, Leah is brutally opinionated. The only way to love Leah is if you know her. We know her well. We get her. She blows a fuse fast and will be an angry bitch to deal with until she's had enough time to stew. I'd much rather not deal with that right now. Judging by no one informing Leah as yet, I'm going to go out on limb here and say they feel the same way.

Things progress well after that. We light up, pig out and plan on getting ourselves shitfaced, avoiding the topic of guys in totality. It's what we do in these cases. We're not the ice-cream, chick flick and sobbing over the injustices of the male population types of girls. No. We simply take the day to ourselves when the love lives of one of us goes south, well one of their love lives goes south seeing as I've had only one boyfriend so far and they don't even know about it.

I check my phone to see if he's called. Nada, I'm not the clingy type, but yes, I miss him.

I take a drag handing the cigarette to Rach, before dashing to her room. Quickly, I pull on a pair of her boy shorts panties that still have a tag on and make a mental note to buy her a pair while I pull them on under the dress.

When I go back to the quaint-sized lounge, I grab the tequila bottle off the coffee table while Rach pulls out a stash of weed from between the cushions. I don't even ask cause I already know she swiped it from Paul.

I hardly spend any time with the girls where it's just us, so I will not complain about whatever we do. Usually we just randomly hang out, but it's always with others - family, family friends or more commonly with the boys at whatever shindig we're having.

Even as a kid, I leaned more towards hanging out with the guys. I love the girls, love them to bits, but the make-up, dress up scene wasn't really my thing. I liked running around, getting dirty and having fun. As we grew, I started seeing less of them. With them being older than me, they started dating and going out partying with school friends before I did, then they graduated and started working. Now the only times I see them alone are occasions like these, because when it comes down to it, we're close. We're tighter than any of our other girls because we've got history.

Hurt one of us, hurt all of us. We grew up together, will be each other's bridesmaids, and we're linked practically through blood, thanks to our loyalty to the Grey Wolves.

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

I don't know how many cigarettes we've worked through, but we've chained smoked up a storm and by this point the first joints are starting to affect the girls. It takes me a little while longer because I smoke cigarettes daily, and joints are a go with me too if they're available. I usually handle it really well, never pushing my limits. I hit just enough for that buzz to kick in. It also helps that I'm chaperoned by the guys most of the time. But today is different. I'm not sure why, but it's sinking in harder and faster and it makes no sense because no more than 20 minutes pass before things don't feel good... they feel great! And I'm not buzzed… I'm flying!

I take the Lord-knows-what-number joint back from Leah and while I'm taking a hit, I hear the door swing open. Rach and Leah start laughing up a storm through the cloud of smoke I've just blown, cause I have serious talent with that shit and I'm too gone inside my head to realize that if someone opened the door, they most probably did it to come inside.

"Tell me my eyes are shitting me," are the first words out Paul's mouth when he walks in.

"They work just fine, Lahote." Leah says lazily, stoned to slow delirium ages ago, but she's still going.

Times like these I forget they don't smoke as much as I do. Then I remember what started my pretty little fucked up habit and giggle, quickly taking another hit, envisioning Renee and how she looked in my dream as I was dying this morning, looking at me like I was a stranger. Standing before me, but I was unable to touch her. Talking to her, but not having the right words. Waking up to a world I can't find her in, with nothing but a sense of coming danger creeping up my spine as a reminder that it really happened. I smile like an idiot and snort, feeling happy that I saw my mother, before large fingers snatch my joint away from me and I'm distracted. I pout big and stare up, seeing nothing but white, grey and shades in between them.

I hear Paul's boisterous laughter fill the air, but I can no longer see through the cloud of smoke in the room with my blurred, dazed vision. "Okay," he speaks to Leah. I see the tip of the joint glow a bright, pretty red as he takes a hit somewhere in the room.

I like being high. I giggle again. Things look friggin' pretty when I'm high.

"Oh shit," Paul curses, "Leah bed, now. Sleep it off," he orders, a second passes and there's a loud thump. I look to the floor at our feet where Leah lies, already asleep.

Rach and I look at her then each other, then laugh hysterically— A full on hyena fit. Paul shakes his head, looking at us as he opens a window to let the smoke out. Rach whines, telling him to leave it closed, cause it's cold and for some reason this is funny too, because she and I are doubled over again.

I hear him grumbling. Something about 'Christ' and 'leaving them alone two seconds', which he says with a reprimanding tone and then I think, maybe he was boxing today too, because he says something about 'hot' and 'boxing' and I gather he must've been hot while he was boxing cause it's exercise and exercise makes you feel hot. I switch trains. Italian boy looks hot boxing. Suddenly I feel hot, so I grab a blanket and put it on Leah cause this makes sense to me. Really it does. It's just what you do, you know? While I'm doing this though, I think Rach only heard the 'boxing' part of her boyfriend's musings, because suddenly she's beat boxing and I'm cheering wildly in slow motion, cause it's the best thing I've ever heard.

I had no idea, Rach could beat box! Her singing is terrible.

My thinking must be too loud. Paul laughs loudly. I grab at my head painfully, Rach stopped her beats. She's now opting to sing the Mariah Carey's version of Without You to me. I stick two fingers in my mouth and whistle because it's magical. It's the voice of a nightingale as she pulls those high notes.

I was mental that day! How dare I doubt her skill! Rachie sings so well!

Paul snickers, grabbing Rach's tequila bottle mic out her hand and downing some himself, having the audacity to look like he's the one stressed! "No, she doesn't," he says.

I look at Paul with wonder, cause it's like, Whoa! Dude! You're in my head!

He's looking back with humor, "Or maybe," he drawls, grabbing the remaining weed and stuff out our reach and keeping it a safe distance away from us, "you're talking out loud." He ruffles my hair as he walks past.

Pfft. Don't be ridiculous.

I answer in my head and wonder if Paul's doing his mind-reader thing again cause he shakes his head and switches on the TV as Rach places her feet on my knees and her head on his shoulder before passing out. It takes a couple of seconds, but soon I'm out too.

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

Blink.

I look up. Nope, it's still there.

I blink again. Yupp, still not my ceiling.

I shut my eyes tight and then open them wide. And that elephant's still sitting on my head.

I wake up slowly and take in my surroundings, feeling a fuckton of relief fill me when I understand where I am. It's Rach's room and Leah lies on the floor to my right.

"We put her on the bed, she just fell back down," Rach pokes her head out the closet, throwing me a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, before digging through it again. I stand up and push my legs through the jeans being careful to keep the dress down so my gauzed thigh doesn't show. Pulling off the dress and folding it neatly, I work on the shirt next. I've just got one arm and my neck through when, "Aha!" she exclaims with joy like she found Jesus, "Asprin!"

That sounds sacred to me too!

"Gimme!" I stick out my hand at her.

"Hold your horses!" She pops one in her mouth and tosses them to me.

I grab her glass as I hop, skip and bolt my way to the kitchen, filling it up with good ol' H2O and swallowing. Screw you elephant!

Rach walks in and dishes out a serving of spaghetti and meatballs for me and her. I look at the silver pot and note that us girls have consumed almost the entire contents.

I sit on the kitchen floor and she does too, because walking 5 steps to the lounge seems like too much work. It's nearing night now. We sit and scarf down the contents, before either one of us speaks. "How'd we end up in the room?" I ask through my last mouthful of glorious pasta, meat and sauce.

Rach licks her fork clean before answering, "Paul dumped us there when we fell asleep."

I nod, cause I have no recollection of anything aside from faded snippets of what seemed like awesomeness at the time and wanting to deck poor Paul for ruining it. Though I now wanted to thank him for the very same thing. The elephant trumpets in my head, signaling all the thinking is pissing him off and I wince. "Where'd he go?"

"Seth called. He left pretty quick after that," answers Rach as she pats her flat but full belly.

"Fantastic," I whine as I wake up, gratefully feeling the effect of the food and aspirin kicking in. "Next time Lee breaks up —"

"— we're buying ice-cream and getting her a fucking movie," Rach completes my thought.

"Word!" We hear Leah yell from the room, before her soft snores ensue.

I'd nod, but I don't want my head to fall off. The door opens and in walks two idiots I will happily clock, if they don't drop their voices.

"Laughing too loud," I moan and Rach groans, fitting her tiny body against the fridge to cool down her throbbing head.

"Easy squirt," Seth hollers from the doorway, then snorts at my grimace and lowers his voice. "Wow, you weren't kidding."

Paul sniggers, "Told ya."

"Whatever," Seth dismisses, "Come on, Bells," he calls.

"Oh no," I groan, "I'm going nowhere. I wanna sleep for a week. At least!"

"Quit the bitching and moaning," he deadpans. Twit! "The Chief will blow a gasket if he see's you now. You reek of pot."

"Oh, shit. Is dad back?" I ask, suddenly worried.

"Yeah, relax, Jake said you where done with the school shit so you're hanging at the Res as usual," Paul answers coming back from the bedroom. He looks at Rach, "how'd she end up on the floor again?" Referring to the third musketeer.

Rach shrugs, "Leah. She does these things."

Seth grunts out through his nose and laughs, "you girls good?" he asks.

Rachel nods, completely missing what he's referring to— their mental insobriety— and instead, answers about what lead to our eventful day of mind-fuckery. "Yep. That guy won't be calling her up again," she solemnly swears.

"The fuck?" Seth's features darken, "what guy?"

I wanna do a face plant then and there. And once the words catch up to her, so does Rach.

"It's nothing. Girl stuff. Down boy," I wave dismissively, knowing that if we look cool then he'll dismiss this as just a guy who dated his sister, as opposed to just some guy whose face needed breaking for messing with his sister.

Seth eyes us, unconvinced, "does 'girls stuff' have a name?" He folds his arms, looking and meaning business.

"Seth, seriously, let it go," I gripe, walking past him, shoving him lightly in the chest as I go. "Dude she dated. Now she's not so into him," my words are so flawless, I'm almost convinced that there's nothing more to the story. Thank God the guys weren't around the past few days.

Now he seems to buy it. It's happened before. Actually it happens all the time, even when there's no factory fault with the guy. "'kay. Grab your shit and let's go," he bounces on the balls of his feet.

"Why?" I ask. It's a moot point cause I'm already waving goodbye to Rach and heading out the door. She air kisses me and gestures that she'll drop my clothes of at the house once she washes the stench out. I know she'll do it too, but I just can't wait to have my dress back. I look at my phone and see no messages, feeling dreadful. Was he okay? Where was he? We left things badly this morning, what if he upset and just didn't want to talk to me?

Seth shuts the door behind us before he answers my question. "Because we can't take you to the Chief while you look like you hit every bar on the west coast at happy hour." Exasperated, Seth rolls his eyes.

The second we're outside the building I'm kind of happy I've got Rach's clothes on. It's freezing and I'd be a popsicle when Edward got back if I wasn't wearing jeans. "Dad?" I ask simply, I don't have to elaborate the question cause Seth knows what I'm talking about.

I pull on boyfriend's hoodie. It's plain black and unassuming so I know I'm good to go around the Wolves. It's not like anyone's going to spontaneously guess it's Edward's.

"Yeah, your old man called Jakes ol' lady tryna find you, cause he's got some time off this weekend or some shit like that. She told him about school yada yada," he waves his hand absently before him. It makes me wanna laugh, but I keep it together because laughing seems like work right now with Mr. Elephant on my head. "So he asked us to drop you back at his place if you finish up early. Apparently he fell asleep on the receiver before the line cut," he jokes lightly.

I look at him and notice he looks like he could use some sleep too. Unaware of my scrutiny, he smacks his lips together and fishes out his cigarettes, popping one in his mouth. Letting the flaming end hang from his lips, he unlocks his car, hidden in the dark alleyway behind Rach's building.

I feel bad. Poor dad finally has some time off and I'm walking into walls. Literally. "OW!" I bellow, clutching my nose.

"Jesus!" Seth curses under his breath and grabs me quick before I face plant. "Great. I can't take you home vertically challenged!" Concern coats his face as he checks mine for any damage. Despite his reprimanding, being him, he's still caught somewhere between frustration and amusement.

"Twit!" I mutter.

"Love you too, munchkin," he says heavy on the sarcasm as he helps me get into the car without dying.

"Can I just hang with you then?" I ask, leaning against the cool window.

He winds down his window and lets in some of the cold air. It feels nice on my face. Numbing. "Sure," he agrees easily, then he gets a toothy grin, looking past me out the window and I wonder briefly if I'm about to be tortured.

My head starts hurting again because I'm making use of my brain, so I stop wondering and just let it be. Hence me missing Paul's entry, and him being what Seth was grinning craftily at.

"Whoa," I mumble to myself. This makes no sense. "I didn't drink that much. There's just no way—" I snap my hands out in front of me to grab Seth's soda, just as Paul dumps two boxes in the backseat. He leans behind my seat with his body still out the car.

"Sure there is," Paul disagrees, "well, let's see, Bells." he says mockingly, lost in thought, "not only did you decide to drink yourself stupid, but you chose Leah and Rachel to do it with." I groan, acknowledging my idiocy, but it doesn't stop him from continuing. He's enjoying this too much. So's Seth, he's not laughing, but that grin on his face tells me he's merely biding time till the punch line. I dread the punch line.

Paul doesn't disappoint. "But, no, you don't end up going through with that plan. You push aside the booze. So you can blow some trees. Again with Leah and Rachel. My chick can't roll for shit, I might add." He directs that little bit of info over my head to Seth who I dare not look at. "What the hell was that? Chicks were smoking weed and paper sandwiches?" I sink down further in my seat, remembering Rach slamming her hand down on it in frustration when it wouldn't stick right. "Really, brat," I pull on my hood so I can hide, it doesn't work well cause it's stuck between my back and the seat, "you didn't have to drink much. You didn't have to drink at all," He looks at me, grinning wide, while Seth starts the engine, "cause you girls managed to accidently hotbox yourselves. It's like I should hand you women medals."

"True story," Seth quips, finally breaking his vow of silence.

The last thing I hear is their belted out laughter, straight out the gut, before Paul shuts the door and Seth burns rubber and we're speeding down the street, leaving Paul walking back to Rach's.

"Jake will never let me live it down," I whimper, because it's true.

"Aw, lil'sis don't worry," Seth sympathizes, bumping his fist to my shoulder affectionately, "neither will I."

He sniggers and drives. I throw on my hood and die of shame.

Twit!

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

Next time I open my eyes, its pitch black outside thanks to the storm clouds gathering, and when I check the clock I see no significant amount of time has passed, it's still early evening. Stifling a yawn, I turn to Seth illuminated by the passing street lamps as we drive, he looks just like the kid I knew all those years ago. Only now, he's weighted down and it makes him seem dark and dangerous. Sometimes I wish I could get them their freedom too. Give them back their innocence as repayment for how long they've guarded me and mine. They were always hoping for a better life for me, while theirs wasn't guaranteed more than one day at a time.

"Where we goin?"

He stifles a yawn too. He looks exhausted, but there's this wired vibe buzzing through him that I'm used to, "meeting Jake down at Montesano."

I do an internal squeal when I hear this. "Can I stay!"

"Well, look who's mind managed to locate her again," he sniggers knowing exactly why I'm suddenly so excited, "Smokez called. He's got some shit he wants us to check out. When Paul said you passed out at Rach's, figured I'd pick your ass up since you been so scarce lately," he lightheartedly accuses, like the 5 year old I know him to be.

"Hey. You disappeared." I remind him about their run down in South Bend, not wanting to take all the blame and also ignoring the 4 year old I sound like.

"True," he says in a dramatic drawl, "and now Jake and I are making it up to you by making sure you don't get grounded till you're 85 with 7 cats."

On that note, I agree happily and then go back to my original reason for wanting to hang with them tonight. "Montesano, huh?" My heart skyrockets with enthusiasm.

On that note, I agree happily and then go back to my original reason for wanting to hang with them tonight. "Montesano, huh?" My heart skyrockets with enthusiasm. Montesano has but one thing to offer—Papa Smokez. He's a powerful, tall, huge boulder of muscle for a guy, 40 something and been to prison more times than anyone bothers remembering anymore, which, in all honesty, is no reason for any excitement. But what is exciting, is that he gives the Wolves a lot of 'business' that I actually get to see. Smokez runs the racing scene down in his territory and he's notoriously neutral with the gang business. Montesano is no man's land, so for Smokez, his races are holy… if you have the cash, slips and balls of steel to get with the gangs you race, and if you're in a gang, you keep your gang shit off his streets and you race. Ultimately, Smokez loves his hustle. His races are under the radar and he loves my guys because they're his guys. Smokez gets a cut of the winnings and he looks out for them with regards to anything new or interesting dealing with their 'errands'. There's also a legal circuit down in South Bend and when there are new cars in Montesano, Smokez gives Sam and the boys a call. They come down and race, depending on their mood, but the main part of it is to gather enough info to know where the cars are stored. Then they do what's important to Smokez. They scope out his competition so they know what the new racers are running under the hoods and can ensure that the boys racing for Smokez in South Bend have machines that are on par or better. He doesn't rig it, but he likes to know he's got a sure shot at the win. In return, the guys get paid a pretty penny and Smokez sends his cars to The Den religiously for all the work he needs done.

"We're not doing much today," Seth answers, turning right and picking up speed until everything around us starts blurring into one steady stream of murky colors. "The race and shit is supposed to be on tomorrow. We're just picking up Jake, he's with Tony."

I grimace. Smokez right hand guy, Tony, is super cool and stuff but this was like seeing the Christmas presents laid out before you and being told you have to wait till tomorrow to open them.

"Where's Sam?" I ask, because I know he has to be down there too.

"Got some shit to take care off with Jared and the others," Seth says in a practiced and perfected disinterested voice that's designed specifically by them to throw me off. Before I met the Fangs, it'd work too. Not, so much. He's being deliberately vague.

"Errand?" I ask intentionally easy, watching him out the corner of my eye.

His reaction is expertly masked, but I catch his jaw tense slightly even though he answers with no trouble, "Errand."

Oblivious to my musings, Seth starts to slow down as we near a particularly shady area. Most of the street lights are busted and the ones that still work flicker in and out in a way that makes me think of Grim Reaper.

"Tony doesn't live here," I state, rubbing my hands up and down my forearms. I'm safe with Seth, I know I am, but this place is just freakishly creepy and I suddenly can't shake the feeling I'm being watched.

Seth must feel it too, because he's on alert. I can see the cogs turning in his head. In this area there could be numerous people lurking. I'm safe with him. He's more than skilled and he'd die before letting something happen. True to form his body is set into an easy slouch though his eyes look into the darkness knowingly. His one hand rests comfortably on his jeans, just close enough for him to pull out the gun I know he hides there, more from me than anyone on the outside. With his other hand, he flicks the headlights once, twice, then cuts them completely.

"Didn't say we were going to his house," he looks at me as he answers and then smiles easily, an attempt to cheer me up, as he unzips his jacket and tosses it to me. I pull on the familiar blue and grey gratefully. "Relax, Bells. See, there's Jake right now." He points out the window and sure enough, I see Jake jogging up towards us with his hands deep inside his jacket pockets and a steady stream of mist coming out his mouth.

"Holy fuck, it's colder than a witch's tit out there!" are the first words out his mouth when he gets in, which is followed quickly by a filter added in his brain. "Whatarya doing here, Bells?"

"Nice seeing you too," I roll my eyes. I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket, but I'm sitting on my hands to warm them and it's working, so I don't check it. "I felt like a road trip," I say instead, "What are you doing here?" I sing-song, looking at him with a cocked brow. He was here on an 'errand' too, I just know it.

Seth sniggers and does a fast 180 turn, spinning us back the way we came, then guns it down the street.

Jake shakes his head dismissively, telling me it's not important. "You've been scarce. How's the school shit looking, pipsqueak?" He asks, giving me a toothy grin while slipping a lighter out his pocket and holding a pretty, glowing and mesmerizing flame to his cigarette.

I feel horrible, thinking about how to answer that. "It's 'k." I say jokingly.

He shrugs a 'cool' then goes back to telling Seth of some 'developments' and I zone out until we reach the highway and my phone vibrates in my pocket again. The cars warmed up now, so I wriggle and get it out. There are two messages from a number I don't recognize. The first message makes me choke on air.

~ Prefer you in my colors ~

For a beat I just sit there staring at the screen, while the boys speak animatedly about something that holds no interest to me at the moment, because when I open the second message, I stop breathing altogether.

~ See you soon, Cappuccinetto - E ~

The second both thrills and terrifies me, because I now know it's Edward and he's somewhere in Smokez' territory. My one and only consolation is that if Jake isn't wounded and Edward didn't make some attempt to pull me out the car from wherever he was lurking in Montesano, I know for sure he was here on his own business. One more day with no altercation between the two gangs, thank God for Smokez!

I debate whether to reply or not. Edward's temper rules him when it comes to the Wolves. I was honestly surprised he hadn't made his presence known when he saw me in the car. Whatever it was he was doing there had to be important. I'm pretty sure the fact that his 'job' had held him back while he watched me drive off with Seth's jacket on, had blown his sense of reason to shit. Eventually, I decide against replying to Edward because with the mood he was probably in, he was going to do what he wants either way.

As we pull up to Dad's place, I tug Seth's jacket tighter and curse in my head when I open the door, "Mother of God! I can't feel my nose!"

Jake chuckles, "Well, I can definitely see it Rudolf," he quips.

"I wish I had a tan," I mumble crossing my eyes so I can try and get a peek at my red nose.

Both snort, "You'd think you'd have one by now, Pale Face."

True, the Res has always been more of my 'home'.

"I'm telling Sarah," I threaten grumbling.

That successfully gets them to shut up. Jake hops out to take my place in the front. He stops before getting in and looks at me.

"Bells," Jake's voice is too hopeful and cautiously reasonable for my liking, "how 'bout I take you to work tomorrow?"

"How 'bout no." my answer makes his face fall, a grimace of distaste working across his features.

"I just want to make sure you're safe, Bella." He tries to sway me.

I understand, really, I get it, and I respect him for it. But I know the problems it could bring if something where to go wrong. And with these gangs and the magnitude of my secret, there's no dearth of things that could go wrong.

My mind's made up. There's no way in hell, they can be in the same vicinity. I shake my head firmly, "I'm safe Jake," I wish I could explain the levels to which that truth extends, but I can't. "No one bothers me. I do my thing and I come home. I don't want to start a problem where there isn't one."

I try to be as truthful as possible to ease my guilty conscience. Lying by omission is still lying and I'm currently lying to the faces of people I love dearly about something so big, it literally holds in its grasps their lives on a daily basis. I feel sick and it has nothing to do with the unintentional partying this time.

"I'm sorry, Jake," the sincerity in my voice is as brutal as the war of emotions churning in my abdomen. "Sari is going to Port A tomorrow anyways, so I'll get a ride with her to the bookstore and walk to Nell' Ombra. It's only a block away," I finish quickly before I lose my microscopic hold on myself.

I can see they want to argue. Their lips are pressed together in grim lines and their gazes are hard as steel.

"Just me then," Jake tries to bargain and I see Seth start to protest, before Jake gives him a look telling him to shut the fuck up and let him do this.

"Jake," I say exasperated, "I'm freezing. I'm gonna go inside." I lean forward and hug him and do the same to Seth when I walk round the car to get to the house. "Love ya both." It's the truth because from everything about Renee that I hate, I'm grateful to her for the family I ended up with thanks to her leaving. "Go home." I wave offhandedly, shooing them away. "I'll call you guys tomorrow and we'll hang out after work. Oh! And I wanna go to Montesano too okay?"

Forks' isn't safe for them even if dad is home, should there be an incident, they run a risk of being found out. It's still unknown to Charlie that they run with the 'infamous' ones in the Grey Wolves.

I'm already on the porch before Jake bobs his head with a small, easy smile and gets back in the car and they blare the horn in goodbye and disappear down the road.

The front door opens and I spin to see my dad holding it. He's checking the driveway to see who brought me home, because the only car horn he recognizes is the Black's. However, my eyes rake over him slowly and I feel the size of them growing the more I see. Dad's white as a ghost… there's flour from his shirt to his face and if I'm not mistaken, there are bits of noodles in his hair.

My jaw drops and I slam my hands against my mouth so fast, I taste blood slipping onto my tongue when I run it over the stinging insides of my lips. "Chief," I ask very quietly, "what tried to eat you?"

I snort and get it together quickly, cause if I start laughing now I will not be able to stop. He clears his throat.

"I was cooking supper," he says dignifiedly in his gruff voice. Tears are building at the corner of my eyes and if this man keeps talking, I will burst and die with how bad I gotta cackle like a witch. He takes in my expression, rolls his eyes and guffaws, "wanna order a pizza?"

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

My sides are starting to cramp from the silent laughing by the time I get off the phone and the two large pepperoni's are on their way.

"Help is on its way!" I yell, skipping into the kitchen where he's already hidden all the evidence of his supper massacre. Damn cops, that would've made the best Christmas card ever. I'd keep it simple. Behind the picture I'd write, Merry Christmas Sarah, three guesses who picked up Bella's chef's hat?

"Hey, hey, hey, now," Dad sits down at the table, placing a soda for me and taking a swig of his beer, "It wasn't so bad."

Sitting down, I raise an incredulous brow at him. "Dad, you looked like supper threw you up."

He huffs and grumbles. I know he's just playing. "Okay, ease up on the ol' man, I was sleep-cooking."

I start to feel guilty, it's a joke that's not funny to me. Dad looks dead tired. Oblivious, my old man chuckles all gruffly and gravelly his mustache twitches into a smile of amusement. "And at least this was one of my rare cooking mess ups."

If there was more remnants of pot pie noodles lying around, I'd throw it at him. "Hey! Sari said I'm improving!" I defend righteously.

He keeps smiling under his bushy mustache but lets me play pretend. "Sure honey. That salad tasted pretty good, even if it looked like pieces to a helluva puzzle."

"Thank you," I accept proudly, it's true. It didn't look too good but it had tasted great.

Taking a sip of soda, I wake up and walk to the sink. As I'm washing my hands, dad speaks again and at the words that leave his mouth, I feel my own grow dry.

I'd feel less terrified if I were back in my nightmare from this morning.

"Not sure how long this case is going to be," Dad starts almost apologetically, "got some time time off tomorrow though," my pulse is starting to build up in my ears as I watch his reflection in the window.

Please don't let this be going where I think its going.

My hands are dead still under the running water.

None the wiser, my poor old man smiles proudly in that way that only fathers can. He sits back in his chair, looking pleased with himself. "I was thinking of driving you to work tomorrow. You know, see the place where my little girl is working while I have a chance."

If it were possible, I want to run through the wall and into the forest making a beeline for La Push screaming, 'I changed my mind!'

OH GOD, JACOB COME BACK!

~.~.~ Thank you for reading. Love and God bless: Kat;) ~.~.~

Prompt Status CH12: Full chapter posted on my journal in two parts due to length limitations (address on profile/direct link available on my website) and TWCS (my penname is KittyTylz).