A/N: I've never had so many people tell me that I don't suck! This is an early update gift to you. I guess, it's not really early since I don't have an updating schedule. Guess I should get one of those...hmmm...I'll update on Tuesdays and Fridays. Sound good? Allrighty. Really, thank you for the reviews. I am truly humbled by all of your kind words and they make me smile.

I decided that I'll put a song on if it inspired a certain chapter or if I just couldn't quit listening to it while writing. :)

Thank you, Softragoo for prereading. I loves you lots.

Disclaimer: Stephanie Meyers owns these characters.

Chapter six

When we got back to our apartment building, Jake was sitting on the front steps with a cigar between his lips. The funky odor made my nose wrinkle. Edward glared at him as he rose slowly from the concrete and grinned at me.

"Just wanted to make sure that you got home okay," he said.

I blinked at him and shot him a small smile. "Uh…thanks."

He took a long drag of the cigar and puffed it out in pretty "O" shapes. I couldn't help but giggle at the proud smile on his face when he was finished.

Edward rolled his eyes. "Does this work?"

"Pardon?" Jake's voice was entirely different compared to when he spoke to me. It was deep but almost gentle when he conversed with me but when he stared down Edward, his tone held something different.

"Does making simple shapes come out of your mouth with cigar smoke keep your bed warm?" Edward asked, sarcastically. "I bet it keeps all the ladies banging on your door, doesn't it?"

It was plain that Edward had problems with Jake. What those problems were, I wasn't sure but he was being an ass. Jake had been nothing but nice and here he was, sitting on the steps, to make sure that I got home okay. Suddenly, I felt claustrophobic, trapped between the two pit bulls right before the whistle blew. I stepped away a little from Edward.

Jake glared at Edward for a few beats then turned back to me, a slow but wide smile taking over his expression. "No, there's other things that I do with my mouth that keeps my bed warm."

He winked at me as he walked past me. "Got a favorite band, Bella?"

I smiled and turned my body to face him. "I have soft spot for Queen," I said. His nose wrinkled playfully as he considered the seventies rock band. To test his patience, I added, "I'm also a big fan of Shania Twain."

The smile faded but the disgust was still layered on his face like frosting on a cake. "Really?"

Edward cleared his throat and sighed, dramatically.

"Oh, yeah," I said.

He narrowed his eyes and smirked, accepting my challenge. Then with a wave, he turned around and stalked off. His boots making passes with the ground like heavy brooms. I watched him get in his car and realized that he didn't particularly scare me. Even though his body was huge and his voice deep and rough, there was a gentleness about him that put me at ease. It was a ridiculous revelation but then again, it wasn't. I had never been good at seeing people for what they were. Making excuses for other people actions was like breathing for me. It was suffocating to think that I'd never be able to put my guard down around anyone ever again. I couldn't live that way.

"Rose got pizza," Edward offered.

So, I turned around and followed him up the steps and into the building. We stopped at my door.

"I have to get cleaned up," I told him. "But I'll be over in a few minutes."

He looked down at my knees. "You should put something on those scrapes. Do you have anything?"

"No, but I can get some tomorrow."

"You'll be at Rose's all day tomorrow." He reached his hand in his pocket and pulled out his keys. "I'll be right back."

"You don't have to—"

"I have a first aid kit at my place. I'll be right back."

I opened my mouth to stop him but the throbbing in my knees stopped me. As gracious as Esme had been to me, health benefits weren't included in the illegal get-paid-under-the-table-package. As minor as my scrapes were, if they got infected, it would ruin me. I'd have to go to the doctor's and he'd find me.

Five minutes later, he returned with a plastic box under his arm. I expected him to hand it over, but instead, he just looked at me.

With my hand out, I said, "Thanks. I'll bring it right back out to you."

The tip of his tongue swam out over his bottom lip. "I have some experience patching up abrasions. Let me take a look."

I gulped. "Really, it's fine. Just give me the box and I'll have it back to you in five minutes."

He tucked it more snugly under his arm. "No."

There was a strong, familiar emotion building itself up inside me. I had felt the fear and submission for so long that this almost forgotten emotion seemed to give me wings. My muscles felt bigger and my bones stronger. I was fed up with his attitude toward Jake and his reluctance to give me freaking band aids. The emotion was anger. The last time I allowed myself to feel anger was the day I moved out to Oklahoma. The result of my anger only made my situation worse; it only reflected off of James and made a severe impact on my feeble state of mind.

But he was not James and I was not in Oklahoma anymore. Empowerment washed over me and I wanted to argue. Edward's face was neutral as he looked at me, trying to judge my expression.

"Just give me the box," I said through clenched teeth.

His expression went from neutral to amusement. "No, let me patch you up and we'll be—"

I grabbed the box with my fingers and gave it a tug. Edward had some very strong armpits. He raised his eyebrows and looked satisfied with himself.

"What is your problem?" I asked. "Are you afraid I'm going to steal something?"

"No, I told you, I have experience dealing with abrasions."

I tugged at the box again and it budged slightly. "So..do…I!"

"You're acting silly," he advised.

My mouth fell open and the beautiful anger inside me seemed to double. "I'm acting…I'm not the one refusing to give up a first aid kit!" I decided to pull the sympathy card. "Look, my knees really hurt so I'd appreciate it if you'd just let me have it."

He sighed. "All I want to do is help you, Bella." He took the box from under his arm and held it in his hand. I wasn't fooled. The grip on the box wasn't lessened from the change of location. "I promise that I come strictly as a nurse."

I pictured Edward in a white nursing uniform, skirt and all. I laughed out loud and his eyes widened with…alarm? No, humor. And there was more of that satisfaction.

With shaky fingers, I ran my hand through my hair. I could feel my bangs parting in the middle and straying in opposite directions but I didn't care. "Fine," I said, turning around and sticking the key in the lock. It only took me two tries. I nudged my door open and stepped halfway inside.

"I went through all that trouble and now you don't want it?"

I turned back to him and couldn't resist. With everything I had, all the strength I could muster, I grabbed at the box. My hand, as small as it was, got a good grip on the thing and I pulled it from his hand. In less than a second, I had my door closed and locked. I hunkered and listened for his reaction. There was nothing. No yelling, no banging, no threats of pain. I had argued with him, stolen from him and he had no response but to walk diagonally across the hall to Rose's and walk in the door.

On one hand, I was proud of myself. It went against everything that I had become to fight with someone, to let my anger get the best of me. Especially with a man like Edward who had fire in his eyes and brute, lean strength in his body. He could have leveled my door, then me and he didn't. Even if it was just a stupid first aid kit, I had fought for something I needed for the first time in so long. It was a small jagged piece of what I was at one time. Like that mirror that James had smashed in our bathroom in Oklahoma. It was shattered; pieces of it had fallen into the sink and on the floor. That was me and I'd just dug down deep and found a piece of it.

As I stripped off my clothes, I thought of the other hand—I didn't know Edward. As much as I liked to think that he was decent and trustworthy, he was a man. He had it in him and I didn't know how far he could be stretched before he snapped. I'd seen how he was with Jake, who had done nothing to deserve the cold stare and sarcastic remarks. I couldn't deny the fire in his eyes that made me want to cower or the stiffness of his posture that reminded me of James' bad moods. Maybe his silence after I'd closed my door was the calm before the storm. I'd be there with him after I'd cleaned up my wounds and gotten clean clothes on. Even Rose couldn't stop him if his temper was enraged and he felt that I needed to be taught a lesson in respect.

When I got to the bathroom, I stepped in the shower. I let warm water wash over my palms and over my knees. It burned and I winced as the water washed away the dried blood and particles of dirt that had encrusted on my wounds.

I dried off and as I hung my towels on the towel rack, I caught my naked reflection in the mirror. Who was that? Some homely brunette with a bad hair cut and bones jutting out of her shoulders. She obviously didn't sleep because a new wardrobe would have fit in the bags under her eyes. Pale wasn't even the word to describe how colorless and lifeless her complexion was. The muddy brown glistened in her wide, fearful eyes. She looked like a scared animal.

Was that how the world saw me? A scared animal? Cowering with each unexpected noise and flinching each time someone offered to shake her hand? That was what I was and it was humiliating. No wonder Rose had offered me friendship and Esme had practically thrown a job at me without even knowing my last name.

"I'm like a feral kitten," I murmured as I ran my fingertips over my cheek. "Who could turn their backs on a feral kitten?"

I was disgusted at the thought. Sure, feral kittens were cute—the way they let out tiny little hisses when they felt they were being threatened. And the way they cowered in corners to avoid being seen. They lived on survival instincts alone—which was what I had been doing. That wasn't who I was.

The Bella I had been just a year ago had kneed a stranger in the balls for grabbing her ass in a bar. The Bella that was raised by Charlie and Renee Swan argued her points in debate class until her throat grew sore and she ended up accidentally spitting on her opponent. That girl, that I had grown up to be, was independent, strong willed, and beautiful.

"Are you still in there?" I asked the girl in the mirror. "Can you be found?"

The look in her eyes told me that she desperately hoped so. It was up to me to find a way to bring her back.

XxXxX

The thing about Emily and Sammy was their age difference. Emily was ten and Sammy was two so they never really bickered at each other. But both of them did their own things and each of them wanted me to do it with them. I was torn between the two of them, going from room to room in order to please them. By the time five o'clock rolled around, I was ready for a nap.

Edward was supposed to be there around seven and I was both nervous and excited for his arrival. After my self proclamation in the mirror, I'd finally made my way over to Rose's apartment the night before only to find it Edward-less. He'd eaten a piece of pizza and run, Rose had explained when she caught me craning my neck to look down the hallway or gazing curiously into the kitchen. While I was nervous that he held some resentment in regards to the first aid kit, I was looking forward to actually sitting down.

"Beeeellllaaaaa!" Emily yelled from her bedroom.

I was currently stirring some macaroni and frying some ground hamburger for their cheeseburger Mac. Sam was on his way to the light socket for fiftieth time with his finger jutted out in a curious fashion. The first time I saw him going for it, I'd freaked and apparently when I freak, I get this funny expression on my face that Sam thinks is hilarious.

"Sam! NOOO!" I said, grabbing the giggling toddler away from sure electrocution. "Stop, Samuel! No more!"

"Beeeellllaaaa!" Emily yelled again, this time with more shriek to it.

"Dear God, what was I thinking?" I asked no one in particular.

Water boiled over and it hit the burner with a loud sizzle. I put Sam down and jumped to the stove, turning the heat down and lifting the pan at the same time.

"Uh oh!" Sam exclaimed cheerfully. "It burn! It burn!"

"No, Sam, it's not burning," I explained.

"Beeelllaaaa!" This time it was more of a whine than a yell.

No wonder Rose was always yelling. I took three deep breaths before replying back my reply. "Emily, I'm cooking dinner; what do you need?"

"I thought you were going to paint my toenails!" Another half-whine, half-yell.

Three more deep breaths. "I will after we eat. Can you come in here and talk instead of yelling?"

The sound of her bare feet hitting linoleum sounded out behind me. I was too busy stirring ground beef to turn and look.

"Sam is going for the plug again," she said, calmly but disgruntled.

My heart skipped a beat as I searched for Sam and sure enough he was on his way, finger pointed and giggles erupting in his throat. I'd never wanted to curse so bad in my life.

"Sam! Stop…right…there!" I screamed.

He moved faster, the giggles sounding like a motorcycle starting. I ran and swooped him up, cooking utensil in hand and set him into his highchair. The thing was too small for him and I was barely able to push the tray on but I managed. He frowned at me when he realized he was trapped.

"Bebba bad!" he said.

I raised my eyebrows at him. "No, Sammy bad," I said back.

"Bella?" Emily asked.

"You can't go near that plug, Samuel! That will hurt you!"

"Bella?"

"Just a second, Em!" I said, trying to keep my voice calm.

Samuel's bottom lip protruded as he looked up at me.

"No more plug, Sammy! No more!" This time I used my pointer finger to accentuate my point.

"Bella?" Emily repeated.

"Don't cry, Sam! Please? You can come out of there after we eat. Just, please, don't—"

"Bella!" Emily's voice was full of alarm.

I spun, either to yell obscenities or strap Emily in her own highchair made of rope and duct tape. Then I noticed the smoke.

"Oh…shit!" I said.

Emily put her hand over her mouth, then said, "You said a bad word" from between her fingers.

I moved the pan of frying meat off the burner as the smoke billowed out of it. Luckily, there were no flames but the meat was too ruined to eat. I sighed and then chuckled to myself. If I had ever considered having kids, this experience had made up my mind. All in all, Em and Sammy were good kids but I didn't have what it took to do it. Pulled in two directions, disciplining cute little faces with chubby smiles, painting toenails at the same time I was supposed to be cooking dinner—I just didn't have that motherly instinct. Thank God I found out before it was too late. I would have ruined any offspring that I birthed.

I turned to Emily who was looking up at me with big blue eyes. "How much do you guys like pizza?"

Her face brightened considerably. "We love it!"

An hour later, all three of us were curled on the couch watching another Disney cartoon. If I didn't see animals sing, princesses dance and inanimate objects take on personalities for another ten years, it would be fine by me.

"This is my favorite," Emily said with a piece of cheese dangling from her lips. "I like Lumiere; he's funny."

"Which one is he?"

"The candlestick," she replied.

"Ah. Yes, he's great," I deadpanned, "Fantastic actor."

She giggled. "He's a cartoon, silly!"

After we ate, I managed to bribe Emily to help me with the dishes with promises of a pedicure. Sam made a mess in his high chair with a gob of whipped cream, keeping him busy so he didn't get bored. At least he wasn't in danger of being electrocuted, I told myself as I wiped down the kitchen floor under his chair. He thanked me by wiping his hands on the rag that sat conveniently attached to the top of my head. I sat up and his eyes sparkled at the sight of his babysitter, hair highlighted white with the sugary foam. I laughed because if I didn't, I would cry. Soon, Sammy joined in and then Emily, who'd got it in her head that giving Bella a whipped cream wig would be even funnier. Damned, if she wasn't right because when I went to the bathroom to wash up, I looked in the mirror and couldn't stop laughing.

"What color do you want next?" Emily asked from the floor.

She had insisted that each of my toenails had to be a different color. Who was I to argue with a fashion addict?

"Uh…" I bent down to exam my foot. "What are my choices?"

She held three different bottles up, she replied, "Red, sparkly blue, or black."

I scrunched up my face. "Black? Why would anyone want black toenails?"

"Miley Cyrus wears black fingernail polish," Emily explained so that I knew just how cool black nail polish was.

"Well then, I guess the next toe will be black," I suggested then smiled. "Even though I'm old, that doesn't mean that I can't be cool, right?"

She didn't answer and I assumed it's because she didn't agree. I was only a couple years younger than her mom so I had to be ancient. At her age, I remember thinking that my parents were ancient and they were eighteen when they had me. It was good that I had decided not to have kids; I was already 25 so when I did get around to having them, I'd be considered elderly when they reached ten.

Sammy was building blocks on the floor and he was starting to blink his eyes lazily. Rose had told me to put them to bed around eight and I'd been counting down the hours since four. I only had an hour to go and hell, if I wasn't going to screw it up by letting Sammy doze off.

Luckily, I didn't have to distract them because Edward did that for me. The sound of the lock clicking had all of us snapping our gazes in the direction of the door. Automatically, my heart leaped but I didn't panic or jump when the door opened and Edward strolled in.

"Ewart!" Sammy shouted and hobbled up along the floor to greet him.

"Hey little buddy!" Edward said, setting a bag down on the floor and scooping Sam up into his arms.

"Edward, just so you know, I'm not speaking to you," Emily said, focusing on my big toe. I hadn't had a choice with that one; she chose for me—sparkly blue.

He glanced at me and nodded his head in greeting before responding to Emily. His eyes were fierce, as always but he didn't carry himself as if he were angry about the night before. There was a chance that the kids' presence was protecting me. Suddenly, all that self-affirmation crap that I had told myself flew out the window. It felt stupid to stay but cowardly to go.

"I believe that you just did speak to me," he replied. "Is this about last night?"

Emily huffed. "You…" she looked up at me. "Bella, would you tell Edward that he was supposed to be here last night at eight for my karate lesson and he didn't come. Tell him that I even got dressed in my uniform and slept in it because I was excited about it. Tell him—"

"Emily, I'm right here. I can hear you so why don't you say it to me," Edward said, sitting down on the edge of the couch. Sammy's hands went straight to his hair. "I'm sorry that I wasn't here but I had something else I had to do. Your mom told you that I couldn't make it, right?"

She missed my nail and put a slick, cold layer of polish across the side of my toe. "She told me but…you always showed up before. Where were you?"

He cleared his throat and looked down at his boots. "I was helping out a friend."

She pouted as she capped the lid to the blue polish.

"Come here, Em." He patted the couch beside him in invitation as she reluctantly got off the floor. When she got close, he wrapped his arm around her shoulder and proceeded to whisper something in her ear.

I felt like I was invading a very private moment. They looked so much like a family that I hurt for Edward. One day, Emmett would come home and take his wife and kids back then where would that leave Edward? Hopefully, they wouldn't push him away but then during moments like this, he'd be where I was now, feeling awkward. It almost felt like he was being used, a temporary father-figure to fill in for a missing parent. It was obvious how much he cared for the kids and in return, they adored him. But he wasn't their dad; hell, he wasn't even blood related.

"Did you see Bella's toes?" Emily asked, the past evening forgotten. "Come look!"

My face flushed as Edward scooted closer to examine my feet. They were ugly with the exception of the nail polish that Emily had decorated them with. James had always hated my feet, even from the beginning. He told me that I had Neanderthal toes and a man's instep. It took everything in me to keep from curling them under the couch as Edward examined them.

"They look fabulous!" Edward exclaimed with a big grin on his face.

Emily giggled. Sammy was zoned out with the hair.

"You two need to get ready for bed," Edward announced after the beast had magically turned back into a prince.

"I think he looked better as a beast," I blurted.

Emily looked offended. "Ugh! No he didn't!"

"It's a cartoon," Edward offered.

I shrugged. "People can think cartoons are attractive."

His eyebrows shot up but he didn't respond. Instead, he instructed Emily to go get her PJ's on. She stomped down the hallway, muttering things about life not being fair. "I'll be right back; I'm going to go get Sammy ready for bed."

"I can do that," I said, leaning forward to get off the couch.

He stopped me with a gentle hand to my shoulder. "You're probably exhausted. They'll go to sleep faster for me."

I replied with a weak, "Okay" but what I really wanted to say was "See you later!" or "Gotta go!" Charlie Swan's daughter wasn't a coward. My knees were sore from the fall I'd taken but not too sore to plant one in a man's crotch. Then I'd run like hell.

With a yawn, I found something that wasn't a cartoon. It had been so long since I had a choice in what I wanted to watch for television, I got a weak adrenaline rush just flipping through the channels. I barely stayed on a channel long enough to figure out what it was; my finger just kept on clicking. I grinned, in spite of myself.

"Bella?"

Emily came walking out of the hallway, dressed in pink heart pajamas. "Yeah, Em? What is it?"

Before I knew what was happening, she wrapped me in a strong hug. Her body was so tiny and precious but had hints of girlishness. No wonder Rose wanted to teach her to kick ass because she was growing up fast. It wouldn't be long before she was asked out on dates or whistled at as she walked down the street. The thought made me hug her tightly to me. She didn't know how cruel the world could be, even as she grew up in a low income neighborhood, she still had it pretty good. There was evil in the world and I prayed she never came across it.

"I can't breathe," she squeaked in my ear.

"Oh," I said, releasing her, "Sorry."

She grinned. "It's okay. Good night, Bella, and thank you for watching us tonight. I had a lot of fun."

"Me too," I partly lied. "We'll have to do it again sometime."

I immediately regretted saying it because I had seen what words meant to her when Edward missed their lesson the night before. But as I watched her walk away, I realized that hugs like that were what made people want to be parents. When you received the love of a child, it puts things into perspective.

As I flipped through the channels, waiting for Edward to come back so I could say goodnight, I thought about the night before. He had shown up at Blossom's to walk me home. I'd left around 8:15 and he was supposed to meet Emily at 8pm. It hit me that he had missed her lesson because of me.

"I was helping out a friend," he had said. Did he really consider me a friend? No, he barely knew me and Rose said that he didn't let people into his life. He'd just said that as an excuse, to calm Emily down. I was nothing to him. He was doing Rose a favor because she asked him to watch over me on my walk back home.

"Game show junkie?" Edward's voice broke me from my thoughts.

"Huh?"

He pointed at the TV. "I was asking if you were a game show junkie—you're watching Family Feud."

I turned my attention back to the television. Sure enough, there were reruns of the show flashing across the small glowing appliance. They weren't the real old shows, where people wore bell bottom and plaid suits but they were older. The host was the guy from Home Improvement, Al.

"I was just channel surfing," I mumbled.

He scrunched up his face. "You don't happen to have anything left over from dinner, do you? I'm fucking starved."

"Yeah, there's pizza in the fridge," offered.

"Pizza? From tonight or last night?" he asked.

"Does it matter?"

He stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Rose gets pineapple on every pizza she orders and I hate that shit. If it was leftovers from that, I'd whip up some noodles or something but if you guys ordered pizza tonight…"

I smiled at him. "I noticed that pineapple thing, too. I'm not a big fan of fruit on pizza."

"It just…isn't right," he said then asked, "So, I take it that means there's fruitless pizza in the fridge?"

"With extra meat," I replied.

His eyes rolled back in his head and he let out a thankful grunt that made my cheeks heat up. "Thank God!"

As he moved around in the kitchen, I tried to plan my exit strategy. I should have done it before he went to grab his pizza but the words got caught in my throat somewhere around "extra" and "meat". When he came back in, balancing a paper plate with three slices on it in his hand and gulping from a can of soda, I decided to give it five minutes. Then I'd just yawn, stand up and stretch before announcing my exhaustion.

He sat down beside me, leaving a foot between us, and took a huge bite of pizza. There was a moan, then some chewing and another moan. I tried to make out the question on the game show but I couldn't concentrate.

"A woman!" Edward yelled out between bites.

I turned to him, slightly alarmed. "What?"

He pointed to the T.V. "I was answering the question."

I turned back to the screen and listened closely for the question. As the bearded host read it, my mouth dropped open: "Name something that squeals". I couldn't have taken that comment many ways, and the Bella from two days ago would have assumed that it would be squeals of pain. I was done assuming and thinking the worst.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked.

Edward shrugged as he finished his soda then said, "Any man that can't make a woman squeal isn't worth his salt."

I resisted the blush by sticking to the non-sexual route of the suggestion. "You mean squeal out of anger?"

He laughed then said, "If you say so."

We watched some more of the show in silence as he ate his food. My eyes kept wandering to his face, shamelessly watching his jaw work as he chewed. The man never shaved or if he did, it grew back in a day because there was always stubble along the sharp edge of his face. The crooked set of his nose wasn't as menacing when he was laughing about some stupid answer given by a contestant. His hair was ridiculous. But his eyes, those eyes that held so much power, were always on fire. Glaring at Jake, arguing with me, or watching Family Feud, those eyes spoke volumes. They told me that he had been through hell and that he wasn't going again.

"I brought your first aid kit," I announced.

He grinned to himself, peeling apart his leftover crust. "Did you use it?"

"Yeah, thank you for letting me borrow it." I wasn't sure if it was my imagination but I was pretty sure my voice changed pitch when I said it.

The grin on his face grew and he looked over at me. "I didn't exactly let you borrow it; you stole it."

"Well, you were being unreasonable," I told him. "I didn't mean to…I'm sorry that I took it but I wasn't comfortable with—"

He held out his hand to stop me. "Bella, it's okay. I never intended to go into your apartment."

I frowned at him.

"I was trying to make you mad."

"What?" I asked.

He cleared his throat and leaned back into the couch. The movement caused my own body to shift minutely.

"I was trying to see who you are," he began then hesitated. "You're always so nervous around me and I…I think I know why. I wanted to push your limits so that you'd see that you could stand up for yourself and I wouldn't get mad."

"Why?"

He looked confused by the question. "So that you would be more comfortable around me."

"Why?"

"Why what?" He was getting frustrated and I couldn't really blame him. Perhaps, I had spent way too much time around the kids today because it seemed to be the only question I could blurt out.

"Why do you want me to be comfortable with you?" I asked.

His face twisted with bafflement. "Why wouldn't I want you to be comfortable with me? You're friends with Rose and I'm over here practically everyday. I don't want you trembling with fear every time I step into the apartment."

I blinked at him, still not understanding how my fears affected him.

He sighed when he read my look and continued, "Rose hasn't had a good friend since…well, never. Plus, the kids love you and they need someone good in their lives and I feel like I chase you off every time I've over here. Makes me feel like shit."

The first thing that hit was that he'd called me "good". Little did he know that I wasn't but I wasn't going to pipe in about what a nut case I was or how my brain had envisioned him bashing my skull in with his fist twenty times a day since I'd met him. Good people didn't think like that. Good people saw positive aspects before the negative. I was ruined, mentally and physically.

"I guess I do tremble a little," I said, unsure of what to say. "I don't mean to make you feel bad about that."

"I know you don't, Bella," he said. "It's not a secret that you've…"

"I've what?" I asked, furrowing my brows.

He sighed. "It's obvious that you've been through something traumatizing and I look at you and I feel…this…shit." He ran a hand through his hair and then scraped his knuckles against the stubble on his jaw. "I feel oddly protective of you."

My eyes widened. "You do?"

He groaned, out of annoyance, maybe. "You don't fit in well here."

I swallowed and my chest felt heavy with his words.

"Damn, that wasn't what I meant," he groaned. "What I meant was…there are types of people who live in this sort of neighborhood. I'm not saying that they aren't good people but there are a lot of people who wouldn't have offered to do a stranger's laundry to help them out. Most people wouldn't have offered to babysit two little heathens so that they could go visit their husband in prison. You belong somewhere decent, Bella."

I chewed on his words for a few beats. "They aren't heathens," I replied.

He laughed. "That's what you got from what I just said?"

"I'm sorry but I just don't see what you see," I told him. "I don't think that offering to help Rose makes me a good person. It's human to want to do something for other people."

His laugh was humorless. "You have no idea how wrong you are about that."

A/N: Who wants to jump Edward? *waves hand in air* Anyone else?

In case you haven't figured this out yet, this will be a slooooow burn. Please review. It would make me giddy.