A/N: Thanks for the support! I adore you all! This is a little bit of a lighter chapter and we learn more about some of the other characters. I'd appreciate any feedback-sometimes, I tend to put too much detail into my writing so if I start blabbing on and on about something, let me know. This chapter is a little bit longer, too. :)

I have a song rec. for this chapter: "Kiss With a Fist" by Florence and The Machine. It's a kick ass song that is awesome to listen to if you're running. Not that I do that. I don't have time to do that. I'm too busy writing. *shrugs* At least my typing fingers are in shape.

Thank you, Softragoo for your sometimes inappropriately perverted bubbles. I love them.

Disclaimer: Stephanie Meyer is a genius. I am not.

Chapter Nine

I was on a Merry-Go-Round in my dream. There was no one else on it with me; I was a solitary rider. The metal horse I'd chosen was proud and it nickered with his head in the air, frozen as his teeth clashed with some invisible enemy. Even though my horse was frozen in action, it still rose and fell with the motion of the ride. It was fun. I was laughing and I could feel the wind rush through my hair as it went round and round. The sun was out. The birds were singing. I closed my eyes and inhaled the stuffy city air around me.

When I opened them, the motion of the ride quickened. It spun faster and faster, the sound of the motor making a clanking sound as it struggled to keep up with the order. I tried to dismount my proud stallion but my hands were glued to the pole. My thighs were stuck to the cold, metal saddle.

It went faster and I could feel the pull of force as my body wanted to go one way but I wasn't allowed. I couldn't get off but I couldn't stay on. The trees around me became a green blur and the clouds twirled in the sky.

Then I fell. I jerked awake.

There was knocking. I sat up, jackknifed at the hips in an effort to focus on my whereabouts. I blinked away sleep. Adrenaline was pumping through my blood as memories of my dream floated out of my mind until all I could remember was bits and pieces. A metal horse. Stuffy air. Falling.

Had there been knocking?

Yes, I was sure that I had heard knocking. I stiffened at the silence. My living room light was on. My bedroom light was on. The dark took its toll on me and the sleepless nights weren't worth it to save face. All kinds of things could happen in the dark and you wouldn't even see it coming. I was hunted in the dark.

The knocking came again. Fast, hard knocks. Manly knocks that stunk of agitation.

I rose from my bed, wrapped a blanket around me and walked down the hallway. I flipped the bathroom light on as I walked by, just because.

"Yes?" I called out through the door.

"You ready?" Edward asked.

I furrowed my eyebrows. Ready for what? My silence and the delay between his first knock and my response answered his question.

"You didn't remember?" He was irritated.

I blinked rapidly and pressed my lips together in hopes that a mental Post-It note would float out from some part of my brain. It was Sunday morning. I turned around and glanced at the clock. It was 6am. What in the heck was he doing here at 6am on a Sunday morning? I blinked some more and my face scrunched up.

"Can you open the door so I can refresh your memory?" he asked. "I'm not mad, in case you're wondering."

"Are you annoyed?"

"Oh yes, but I'm always a little annoyed about something. This morning, the object of my annoyance just happens to be you. Feel special?"

I grinned in spite of the last few minutes of confusion. As soon as I opened the door and saw Edward in a grey t-shirt and black running pants, I slapped my hand to my forehead.

"I am so sorry," I groaned. "I can't believe I forgot."

He sighed. "Can I at least come in while you get dressed?"

"We can start tomorrow," I told him with a wave of my hand. "It'll take me at least ten minutes to wake up."

"Oh no," he said, "we're starting today whether you're awake or not. I've been looking forward to this."

"Really?"

He tipped his head toward the hallway. "Go get dressed. I'm going to whip you up something to drink."

With a tired sigh, I dragged back to the bedroom, the blanket I'd grabbed lulling behind me like a caboose. When I got to my room, I shut the door. After some thought I locked it, and then unlocked it, then locked it again. I apologized to my bed with a look and thought about for a moment how good the mattress would feel if I were able to lay down on it. It wasn't much—just a twin size that sat on the floor and the pillow was flat but it would have felt so good to go back to it.

My pink sweatpants weren't stylish, with their elastic ankles and worn drawstrings, but I didn't care. They were a buck at the thrift store. I'd gotten a few t-shirts, too. As I pulled on the clothes, I thought about the agreement that we'd made a few nights ago. Edward was going to teach me to defend myself. He'd whip me into shape so that I wouldn't have to run if James discovered my location. We had agreed to start today, Sunday, at 6am—we were going to go for a run.

Rose's part of the challenge—which thrilled her to no end—was to work on my self-discovery. She was going to help me rediscover my identity and in her words, we were going to "have fun doing it." I cringed when she said it because in all honesty, it scared me. I reluctantly agreed, in hopes that her methods of therapy didn't include dancing in clubs or stripping me naked and picking apart my body.

As I opened my door and headed to the bathroom, the thought struck me that I was the equivalent to an adult science experiment. My reflection told me that I was indeed some form of experiment. My bangs, the biggest hair mistake of my life, sat like curled horns on my head. I really needed a straightener…or something. I watered them down, flattened them but they were resilient. Was this what Edward went through every morning? Resilient and stubborn hair? I suddenly felt a pang of pity for him, if my bangs equaled his entire scalp of hair. Impossible.

I settled on pinning it back with a few of Emily's tiny metal barrettes. They were pink and had tiny little kittens on them. Perfect. I pulled the rest of it up in a ponytail, thankful that my bangs hadn't talked the bulk of it into rebelling. Bastard bangs. Bastard barrettes. I needed coffee.

"Well," Edward said with raised eyebrows, "you look…pretty."

I frowned at him.

"Here's your water." He handed me a bottle of water from my fridge.

"I need coffee."

"No, you need water. We're going to go run and coffee will dehydrate you," He advised.

"Did you have coffee?"

He glared at me.

"You did. You had coffee. If you have coffee, I should get coffee. It's 6am, for God's sake. Why can't we do this at, like, 10am or a time after the sun has come up?"

"It's August," he said, calmly. "It's going to be ninety degrees at 10am."

I changed my strategy and tried to look sad.

He cursed and sighed, "Okay, how about we stop somewhere mid-way and we get you a coffee. How's that?"

"Okay, deal."

"I haven't run long distance since high school. This isn't going to be pretty," I muttered as we hit the bottom step outside our apartment. My eyes scanned the streets and surrounding houses. The sky was beginning to lighten with the impending threat of the sun but the shadows between the buildings and under the trees still loomed.

"How can it not be pretty when you're fashioned with Hello Kitty accessories," he teased.

With my fingertips, I traced one of the barrettes. "Trust me, it's better that they stay in."

He pulled his foot behind him, stretching his quad and pointed down for me to mimic him. I did.

"I know. They were missing when you opened the door this morning. My vote is definitely with the Hello Kitty."

I snorted. "Like your hair is any better."

He moved into a hamstring stretch and I followed.

"At least I didn't strive for my hair. You actually went out and paid someone to cut it like that."

"How do you know?"

"Well, the first day I met you, your hair was longer and it didn't stick up like that. Why do women do that? Pay someone to try and look better when they look fine in the first place? Move onto your arms, now. I mean, fake hair, fake nails, fake skin…it's insane. Why?"

I obeyed him and pulled my arm over my head, my hand grasping my elbow in a nice slow pull. "I don't know why other women do it but I did it because I thought I could cut off my past with some quick swipes of scissors. I used to be so, I don't know, content with myself…comfortable so that I didn't think about why I put on make-up or why I cut my hair. I just did it because it made me feel good."

"So, it makes you feel good to get all dolled up?"

I laughed and did some calf raises. "I used to enjoy it; on occasion."

"Did you hop from bar to bar on campus and have a new guy begging for your attention every weekend?" He asked.

Slightly insulted, I snapped, "No, I studied my ass off and graduated with honors."

He smiled. "That's pretty amazing."

I was quiet for a while as we started to run. As uncooperative and seemingly inconsiderate as Edward was, I enjoyed his company. It was possible that I was starving for attention but I would almost say the bickering he thrived on was calming. It made me feel welcome. Like a friend.

"I'm still kind of stuck on the part where you remember my hair from the first day we met," I said with a smile. My breath was already running short in my lungs and my feet felt heavy.

He groaned. "I have a good memory."

"And I just learned recently that you have a car," I added.

"So?"

"So, you walked me to work that first day because…"

He was quiet, probably trying to formulate a good excuse. "My car was broken down."

I grinned. "Bullshit."

"Okay," he sighed, "so, I walked you to work because I wanted to make sure you got there okay. Is that all right with you?"

"I guess," I said. "It's a little stalkerish but, you know, you did save my life and all."

"I suppose it's a positive sign that you can still talk while you're running. It means that you're not as out of shape as you thought you were," he said then added, "I can push you harder."

His grin was wicked.

I groaned, "Oh great."

The wickedness of his grin matched his workout. We ran for three miles before he let me stop for coffee. I milked it, sipping and slurping instead of gulping like I wanted to do. He shifted on his feet impatiently as the sun rose higher into the blue cloudless sky.

"Are you sure you don't want anything? This is really good," I told him.

"No, aren't you done yet?"

I shook my head and sipped again.

"So, tell me about yourself, Edward," I said.

He avoided my eyes and said, "There's not much to tell."

"Oh come on," I prodded. "You know way more about me than I'm comfortable with so let's make it even." When that didn't work, I added, "I'll take bigger sips if the information is juicy."

The corner of his mouth twitched. "Hmmm…let's see, I like my steak medium rare. I don't drink alcohol. My favorite color is blue and I've always wanted a Golden Retriever. I'd name him Bert."

I stared at him. He waved his hand in a motion for me to drink.

"That's not very juicy."

He let out a Rose flavored sigh; it dripped with drama. "What do you want to know?"

"Well, let's see…" I had tons of questions burning on the end of my tongue but I didn't want to put him in a mood. There were lots of things about my life that I didn't want to go into detail about. I decided to test him without being obvious. "How did you meet Rose?"

"I met Emmett first and then I met Rose through him," he replied.

"How did you meet Emmett?"

His knuckles grazed the stubble on his jaw which was his sign for being uncomfortable. From my own assumptions, I was pretty certain how he met Emmett but I wanted him to tell me.

"I met him in prison," he answered, looking at my half-drunk cup of coffee. I took a big slurp and raised my eyebrows in a now-that's-juicy sort of way. "I met him when I was twenty and we became friends at Pekin. We made a deal before I got out that I'd watch over Rose and Emily so I moved to Chicago."

I took another long slurp.

"That's all," he said then frowned.

"What was the deal?" I asked.

He sighed. "I'll tell you if you finish that damn coffee so we can start running again."

"Do we have to do another three miles?"

Another wicked grin. "Oh, yes."

I drank the remaining caffeine down like it was nothing, crushed the Styrofoam cup in my hand and tossed it in the trash bin. He rolled his eyes at my obvious slacking and nodded his head toward the sidewalk.

"So?" I asked after we'd been running for a few minutes.

"Why is it so important?"

"If you don't want to tell me, that's fine but you're supposed to be teaching me to defend myself. How can I trust you to do that if you can't trust me? I won't judge you."

He cut his eyes to me. "You're telling me that you don't see me differently now that you know I'm an ex-con."

I shook my head the best I could, given the stitch forming in my side. I put my hand on it and pressed. "I think my Appendix is bursting."

He ignored my pain. "What if I told you that I killed someone?"

Now that was enough to take my mind off of the pain, I thought to myself.

"I'd probably poke and prod you with questions about whom this 'someone' was and why you felt it was necessary to kill them." I felt confident in my tone but I could feel the blood easing out of my face. After a silent prayer in hopes that I wouldn't faint, I peeked a glance at him. He was watching me with a curious expression, his eyes unmistakably glaring.

He turned away and picked up his pace. I moaned internally and followed suit. There was no way I could talk at that pace so I kept quiet, hoping that my Appendix wouldn't burst or that my feet didn't catch an uneven piece of pavement.

"When I was convicted I was only twenty, like I said, and I was about half the size that I am now. I was tall but scrawny. Pekin isn't a good place for a tall, scrawny kid with chin acne and absolutely no street smarts. The first day I was there, I got the shit kicked out of me by some Latino gang."

"Oh, my God," I was able to mumble in between pants.

"I was in the infirmary for three days and still in pain when I managed to make it back to my cell. A couple of my ribs were broken. One more good kick and one of them would probably puncture a lung. I was pretty convinced that I wouldn't make it out of there alive."

"That's so sad," I managed.

"Not really," he said. "I deserved to be there. If that was what happened, I was willing to accept it." His pace slowed down and whether he was aware of it or not, he looked sad. "They don't put good people in prison, Bella."

"People make mistakes," I said.

He chewed on that for a moment before continuing his story. "One day, I was laying low and trying not to get killed when Emmett approached me at meal time. Emmett is a huge guy. Nobody messes with Emmett at Pekin. He asked me if he could sit and of course I said 'yes'. I was ready to roll the red carpet out and shine his sneakers if I had to. Then he just started jabbering like I was his best friend." He chuckled and his pace picked up a little. I mentally cursed because now the shin splints had emerged and I was struggling. "For some reason, he said he wanted me to make it out of there. He told me that he didn't like when little guys were picked on and that he'd keep me out of trouble if I promised him something."

"So…that was…the…deal," I struggled to say.

"Yeah," he said, "that was the deal. I hung with Emmett, lifted some weights and learned how to defend myself. When I got out, I moved here to help Rose until Emmett gets out."

I huffed and puffed until we got home, unable to react to his story until I caught my breath. The sight of the apartment building would not have pleased me more than if we'd turned the corner and Mathew McConoughey was sitting on our front porch.

"Put your hands on your head to wind down and keep walking in circles," he told me.

"I used to run cross country in high school, you know," I told him. "It's not like I have no idea how to run."

His eyebrows popped up. "That's surprising."

I narrowed my eyes. "Do you run every day?"

"Not everyday but I run at least thirty a week."

"You run thirty miles a week?" My voice squeaked a little.

He shrugged a shoulder. "Give or take."

I finally caught my breath and sat down on the front concrete steps. Edward sat down beside me and rested his elbows on his knees. The bastard looked like he could run ten more and be fine. The hair was the only thing out of place about him. I wasn't even sure if he was sweating.

"You should get some better fitting clothes for the gym tomorrow," he told me.

I scrunched up my face. "The gym?"

He smiled. "You didn't think that I was going to teach you how to take a two hundred pound man down in my living room, did you?"

"No, I thought you were going to teach me in my living room."

Deep down, I knew that I'd never be able to take a Marine psychopath down on my own, no matter how strong I became but the idea of fighting back was liberating. Even if I could just hold him back long enough to get help, it would be worth all the side cramps and sweat that I would endure while training with Edward.

He chuckled. "Oh, no, Bella," he said, leaning toward me and bumping my shoulder with his bicep. "We're doing this the right way. There's no way you're not going to be prepared the next time you see that dickhead."

I wasn't confident but I'd do as I was told. He was right that I was letting him beat me by living in fear. I was tired of being afraid. If I was going to call my dad and tell him where I was, I'd need to be sure that I could handle whatever was thrown in front of me. James would not keep me from my family.

Slowly but surely, I could feel my old self simmering deep inside. She was jumping for joy at the thought of getting out and enjoying life again. I could do this. I could be normal again.

"Did you really kill someone?" I asked him.

There was some jaw ticking, some awkward shuffling and a knuckle brushing over scruff. "I'll tell you what – when you get to ten miles a day, I'll tell you anything you want to know."

I nodded. "That's fair."

He smirked and cut his eyes to me. "Damn straight, it's fair."

We sat for a little while longer, watching kids go by on bicycles and huddles of people on the corner, smoking cigarettes. It wasn't so bad in the daylight, I thought to myself. I peeked at Edward and he seemed to be thinking the same thing. His hair caught in the slight breeze and a piece in the middle changed sides. I wanted to be Sammy for just a moment and touch it, see what it felt like beneath my fingers. I wondered if he liked his hair being played with. I wondered if a girlfriend had ever done that and made him groan in response.

"I'm not sure if I've told you this yet but…" I started but stopped because the two words on the tip of my tongue didn't do my gratitude justice.

He turned to me. I was sucked in by his stare, his curiosity and his warmth. "What?"

"Thank you," I murmured, "for everything."

His face softened and he smiled softly at me. "You won't be thanking me tomorrow when you try to get out of bed and your butt muscles won't work."

I flushed because the word "butt" coming from his mouth was slightly sensual. Something was wrong with this new feeling toward Edward. Maybe, it was because I saw him as my salvation. The big, tough rescuer. This was wrong.

"Whose butt muscles won't work?" Emily's voice sounded out from behind us and we both snapped our heads to look at her.

"Yours, if you don't mind your own beeswax," Edward said.

She huffed. "When is your meeting, Edward? Mom said that we're leaving after your meeting."

"I'll get back around seven tonight," he said.

"Why can't we go before your meeting?" she whined.

"I have things to do before my meeting."

"But it's going to be so late! All the good stores will close early tonight since it's Sunday! I don't understand why-"

"Emily Grace," Edward hissed. "Stop whining or we're not gonna go."

She stomped her foot and ran back inside to finish out her whining.

"She's at a good age," I teased.

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, she's no longer cute."

I laughed. "No, now she's pretty."

"She's going to be so much trouble in a few years," he grumbled, sounding too much like a father for it to be healthy.

"Where are you guys going?" I asked.

"We have to go shopping so that Emily can get a new dress for start-of-school play. They're doing Wizard of Oz and she's playing The Wicked Witch of The West."

"Ooh, fun! But, shouldn't the school supply the costume?" I asked.

He let out a manly snort. "Do you forget where we are, sometimes? The school barely has enough money to pay its teachers, let alone have an entertainment budget."

I was almost embarrassed of my question. Growing up in Forks, we'd never had tons of money but the high school was small. There were never budget issues or teacher salary disputes. It never entered your mind as a student that the school had to fork out money for costumes or uniforms. It was just expected.

"That sounds like fun, though," I said. "I bet she finds something really cool."

"I'm really looking forward to it." His tone was thick with sarcasm.

"Why are you going?"

"I don't want them going out after dark alone," he explained. "You can go if you want. I meant what I said about you needing some workout clothes that fit. That t-shirt swallows you up. You'll get all twisted in that shit."

A gasp came from behind us. "Mommy! Edward cussed!"

Edward looked over his shoulder and said, "Doesn't matter if the little ears that hear the cuss words are spying."

A few hours later, I was in my room fresh out of shower. A towel was wrapped around my torso and I was trying to find a suitable shopping outfit when the sound of Queen blasted through the walls in my room. Of course, he'd picked the most popular song to play. Bohemian Rhapsody was like a soundtrack to my actions, and I moved ungracefully to the sound of Freddie's voice. A few times, I caught myself belting out the lyrics along with him and the band.

God bless Jake and his craziness.

I dropped the towel, pulled on my underwear and bra and found my hands ghosting down over my lower back. It had been months since I'd looked at the scars on my back: The permanent reminder that I'd never be free of him. I was grateful that he'd chosen the spot for his branding because I didn't have to see it everyday. In fact, most days I forgot that it existed. However, days like this when I remember, I can't help but run my fingers along the scarred flesh and wish it away. Hope that some sort of miraculous healing process will occur and it will vanish overnight. It never happened, of course, so I was stuck with it.

Unable to ignore We Will Rock You, I put the scar out of my mind and pulled my jeans on. After carefully selecting a t-shirt that advertised Hostess Twinkies, I shoved my head into it and then my arms. I argued with my bangs some more and won by forcing a headband over them. I imagined them planning and conspiring against me; they'd gotten a good look at Edward. They had inspiration.

And I was nuts.

I stepped out into the hallway, locking my door and double checking it before heading across the hallway. Queen was still blaring and before I lost the courage, I changed course and found myself knocking on Jake's door instead.

He answered in boxers this time.

"Hey, Bella! You like?" He asked and pointed up as if the music was coming directly from heaven.

"I love it," I said, smiling. "Thank you, Jake. You have to admit, Queen rocks."

He sneered playfully. "I wouldn't go that far but I did find myself tapping my toes a little."

"I just wanted to say thanks for the music," I said.

"Oh, no problem, honey," he said with a grin.

"Jake," a female voice whined from behind him. "Who's at the door?"

Jake looked behind him. "Oh, it's my neighbor," he replied. "She was thanking me for playing her music."

The girl sounded like she was walking with three legs when she flopped to the door. She, of course, was topless but was thankfully wearing panties. Her hair was short and dark, and her complexion matched Jake's. The two looked so much alike, I would have thought they were related if it weren't for their clothing choices.

"Hey! You must be Bella," she said to me then did some sign with her hand, "Queen fucking rocks, right?"

I smiled at her and tried to avoid looking at her boobs. "Yeah, that's what I told him but he doesn't agree."

"No shit, man. I'm the one who brought the fucking CD over!"

"Bella, this is Leah," Jake said, flinging his arm around her shoulders. Damn it, if her boobs didn't wiggle which caught my attention. "We have sex together."

After a short and awkward—on my part, anyway—conversation with Jake and Leah, I knocked on Rose's door. She swung it open and she narrowed her eyes at me.

"What?" I asked, stepping past her as she held the door open wider for me.

"I thought you were Edward. He's late and if I have to tell Emily to shut up one more time, I'm going to have to relinquish my 'Mother of the Year' award."

"Edward doesn't knock," I pointed out.

I followed her into the kitchen where she grabbed a beer from the back of the fridge and handed to me. Turning it down, I shook my head at the drink offer.

"Are you sure? Having alcohol in your system on this little shopping trip may save your sanity."

"It won't be that bad," I told her.

She made some disbelieving noise with her lips that was a mixture of a raspberry and a snort. "Emily only gets to go shopping once or twice a year. She turns into some kind of monster. Last time, we hit up the new Walmart and I thought I was going to have to restrain her from stuffing shit in her pants. It was like shoe shopping with Gollum."

"She's only ten," I said, smiling. "I didn't think it got bad until they were in their teens."

Rose shrugged. "I guess I just got lucky."

With a sigh, Rose tore off the cap to the beer with her fingers and took a long, healthy glug from the bottle. She let out a breath and closed her eyes. She looked tired.

"Where's your family?" I asked.

Her eyes snapped open. "What family?"

"Mom? Dad? Anybody who could help you out."

She sputtered out a humorless laugh. "I don't have any family that gives a damn. My mom drinks too much and my dad, well, I wouldn't put Emily around him for a million dollars. I have a sister but I heard she got married and moved out west somewhere after she graduated high school. Good for her."

"You don't have anyone?"

She didn't look too stressed out by that fact. "I have Emmett and Edward and now, I have you," she said with a smile, then added, "I guess I can count the kids too."

I laughed. The feeling of belonging was so thick through my chest that I thought I might burst. Rose considered me part of her life and I wasn't sure why it suddenly hit me. She'd done everything to make me feel welcome. Her mere presence made me forget things that I once thought would be impossible to forget. She had been right about how lucky I was that I blindly chose Chicago that day at the bus station. The ad that I'd found on the billboard for this apartment building. Arthur Livingston, my landlord, being a sleazy and desperate bastard who was willing to break the law to get a few extra grand in his pocket.

Growing up, I'd gone to church every week. Sunday mornings were the same from as far as I could remember until my mom left my dad. We got up, ate breakfast and went to the small Baptist church in Forks where I'd sing hymns, impress the elderly congregation with my grade point average, and figure out what I would make for the next bake sale. It was a part of my extended family, at times.

Then Renee left and we stopped going. I was thirteen at the time so I could have decided to keep the tradition going by dragging my own teenage self there every week but I didn't. My dad was going through a rough time and it would almost feel like a betrayal to just go about my life as if nothing had changed. Plus, I was angry with her and all I'd get at church would be sad, remorseful expressions from wrinkled, flabby faces.

"I'm sorry, Bells, but I just need more. The world is a big place and I feel, I don't know, stuck here in this tiny corner of it. I'm missing so much." Her smile was sad and her tears were genuine but it didn't make me less angry with her. The church she'd drug me to my whole life didn't give her the faith that she needed to stay with us. Why in the heck would I go back to it?

As if reading my mind, or perhaps my pained expressions, Rose asked about her. "What about you? I know you feel like you can't call your dad but what about your mom? The dick isn't living with her, right?"

"Well, the dick in question isn't living with her but that doesn't mean she's not living with one," I told her.

She quirked and eyebrow and asked, "A figurative dick or a literal dick?"

"Well, I guess it would be both. He's a man—whom I assume has a penis—and is also an asshole. His name is Phil and she married him a couple of years ago, right before I graduated high school. I think he's a baseball player or something."

"Do you think she's worried about you?" she asked.

It was a good question. According to James, during one of his cheery moods, he told me that she had been invited to the wedding. I hadn't spoken to her since my college graduation but I couldn't imagine her missing her little girl getting hitched. She had to know that I wasn't in Oklahoma anymore.

"I'm sure she is aware of the situation," I answered.

"Do you think that you could call her and give her a message to tell Charlie what is going on without James finding out?"

I snorted. "My mom isn't the most dependable person. Telling her to do that would be like asking a dog to drive a car: She might be able to get in the seat but when it comes to shifting gears, there's just no thought process on how to get it done."

"She's an idiot?" She blurted.

"Honestly, I'm not real sure what she is but dependable is definitely something she's not and when my life is at risk…"

She nodded. "Understandable."

"Moooom," Emily whined down the hallway. When she got to the kitchen she stopped short when she saw me. "Hey, Bella! I organized my room! Wanna see it?"

"Of course, I do!"

"You don't have to if you don't want to," Rose whispered.

The funny thing was that I kind of did want to.

The mall was my least favorite place in the world. Not just that particular mall. Any mall has the ability to make my molars press together and my stomach to hurt. Typically, it was the high priced crap and the gaggles of teenagers that hung in the food court that got under my skin. However, that particular trip it was everything. Sundays were not ideal for mall shopping, especially when you only had an hour before closing. The crowd had my skin crawling and my eyes kept seeing James' face peeking out from behind corners. Patches of blond, cropped hair stuck out in store windows. My nerves had the hair on the back of my neck puffed out like a threatened bird.

We took turns with Sammy: First Edward, then Rose and lastly, me. The stroller wasn't acceptable for the mall, Rose had told me. It took too much time and we would get caught behind elderly mall walkers. Emily led us through the mall to one of the cheaper stores that was filled with gaudy clothing and plastic leather purses.

I wanted to wait outside with Edward and Sammy but I felt like I was sending a friend into a mine field by watching Rose follow Emily in. Rose had told me that Emily would trust my opinion over hers because apparently moms don't know shit about anything when you're ten. So, I took my role as the buffer for Rose and support system for Emily. It took my mind off of the imagined blond crew cuts and crowds of people.

Emily picked out an outfit fairly quickly and we were on our way out with thirty minutes to spare before the mall closed. Edward was shifting Sammy from arm to arm as Sam scrambled to tug at Edward's hair.

"At least it's entertaining," I quipped.

He turned to me. "What?"

"Your hair."

His eyes drifted upwards as if he was marveling at the entertainment value then focused them back on me, narrowed. "I'll have you know that it took years for me to perfect this."

I raised my eyebrows. "Years? Wow, that's…something."

"Hey, guys, do you mind if I…" Rose pointed to a lingerie shop near the exit of the mall.

Edward grimaced. "You can't take the kids in there, Rose."

She gave him a no-shit-Sherlock look and told Emily to stay here with Edward. Before I knew it, I was surrounded by mannequins dressed in barely there underwear, including one that held a whip in one hand.

Rose saw me looking at it. "You can borrow mine if you want."

"What? Oh, I was just…I thought that…"

She rolled her eyes. "I was just kidding." Her fingertips trailed down a gem covered bra cup and she sighed. "I'm really nervous, you know."

"About what?"

"Emmett will be released in the next few months and…well, I don't exactly look like I did when I was seventeen." She swallowed and looked down at herself with a disgusted look on her face.

"Rose, you're beautiful." I wasn't lying. Rose was beautiful and now that I knew her, she was absolutely gorgeous. Her hips wouldn't fit into a size six, her breasts wouldn't pass the pencil test if her life depended on it, and her hair was more frizzy than controlled but there were times when I caught myself watching her and wishing that I looked more like her. She always seemed in control and she carried herself with grace. Emmett was a lucky man to be coming home to a woman like Rose.

"Plus, he just saw you a couple of weeks ago. It's not like you're going to be one big surprise to him."

She picked up a couple of thongs and wadded them in her hand. "He can't see the cellulite on the back of my thighs through my clothes. My ass is very good at disguising its mass quantities with a good pair of jeans. He hasn't been with anyone else but me, Bella. What if he gets out and takes one good look at me and wants to vomit?"

God bless her, she actually had tears in her eyes. Rose spent three nights a week getting drunken praise in the form of cat calls and drooling, horny men at the strip club. I thought that, if anything, that would give her some confidence with her body. But those men weren't Emmett and she didn't give a crap what they thought. The man she loved was the only one that mattered.

"Oh, Rose," I soothed. "He's incredibly lucky to have you to look forward to; in the bedroom and out of it."

She snorted. "That's easy for you to say. You've got a bubbly ass and two perky boobs, in spite of the fact that you only weigh about a hundred pounds."

"Yeah, and I don't have a man who has spent a decade of his life in prison for me, coming to home to them." Thank heavens for that. "Emmett loves you, right? Do you doubt that?"

"No, but men have needs…hell, I have needs, damn it!"

The demand took me by surprise. I knew that from reading my romance novels that fictional sex was always mind blowing. It sent waves of heat through bodies and awakened parts of people that they never knew existed. It was the reason I liked books. Because it was fiction. I wasn't stupid enough to think that what James had done to me in Oklahoma was normal. However, I didn't think that sex was anything remarkable, either. It was irrelevant. It didn't matter because I couldn't imagine anyone ever looking at me naked again without seeing the ruins of those nine months. Sex would never play a part in my life again and I was better than okay with that.

The clerk took this moment to wander over and give us a fake smile. "Can I help you find something? We have full figured apparel in the corner over there."

I cut my eyes at her and spat, "Thanks a bunch, we can read."

She cleared her throat daintily and her smile twitched. "Okay then. My name is Trish and I'll just be over here if you need me."

Rose whimpered. "I never intended to get fat. This wasn't my plan."

I sighed and gave Trish an evil look just to make myself feel better. "You're not fat, Rose. You've had two children and you work really freaking hard to—"

"Pffft!" She grabbed a couple inches of her belly with the fingers of both hands and pulled on it. "I'm two doughnuts and a spoonful of Mac and Cheese away from a roll! My ass is like…"-she put her hands on her rear and by the look on her face, I assumed she squeezed. "It's like six…no, eight handfuls!" She held up her arm, pointing her elbow at me and shook it, poking at the wiggling flesh under her bicep. "This isn't supposed to move! I used to make fun of my Grandmother for that!"

"You know, I was just told that I'm strong and that I need to have faith in myself," I told her. "So, in order for me to be persuaded that I'm this independent, strong girl, I have these amazing people helping me take a good look at myself. You are such an amazing woman, Rose. If Emmett doesn't see that, then to hell with him."

She swiped tears off her cheeks and smiled sadly at me. "I feel like I've been waiting for him to come home my whole life and now that it's here, I'm dreading it."

I wrapped my arms around her and hugged her, hoping that it felt just as good to her as it had for me. Her arms held me back and I closed my eyes at the feel of just being the one comforting instead of the other way around. Even in Forks, I'd never had someone I really connected with as a friend. There were girls I'd hang with and people I'd sit with at lunch but there was never anyone that I could just call up and bitch to. I didn't have a friend whose shoulder I could use as a Kleenex, no questions asked. It hit me that Rose was that type of friend for me. I could say anything and she'd accept it. She was genuine and kind and amazingly strong.

"Why don't you come running with me and Edward?" I asked.

"I have two kids, remember? I don't have time for that shit."

"Excuses, Rose. Emily started back at school, right?" She sniffed and nodded. "Well, we'll get you one of those fancy jogging strollers and you can come with us a few days a week. I usually don't have to be at work until 9am so we'll have an hour or so after Emily catches the bus. It'll be fun! Sam would love it!"

She grinned brightly. "Edward would hate it."

My smile matched hers. "If that's not reason enough…"

When we walked out of the store, a couple of thongs heavier, Edward took one look at Rose's face and stiffened.

"What happened?"

She waved him off. "Nothing. I'm fine."

"Why are you crying?"

"Bella invited me to run with you guys and I'm just really touched, is all." The tone in her voice hinted at mischief.

Edward glanced at me incredulously but didn't say anything.

As we loaded up Edward's car, he whispered, "Rose is coming with us now?"

I shrugged. "Is that a problem?"

A noise of disbelief and puzzlement pressed through his lips. "If you ever want to get in shape to kick ass, it is."

"We'll work around it," I offered.

He closed the trunk and turned to me. "You didn't get any workout clothes."

I smiled. "No, but I got something a hell of a lot better than that."

A/N: Who's your favorite character so far? Does anyone have any theories on why Edward was in prison? I'd LOVE to hear them. Next chapter will post on Thursday. :) Thanks for reading! Reviews are better than Edward in running shorts. :)