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Disclaimer: Stephanie Meyer owns all things twilight

Chapter twelve

My eyes popped open at the thought. It was such a simple and obvious thought that should have come to me months ago. I sat up and blinked away the usual fog that came with sleep. Luckily, the idea had waited until morning to hit me. I pictured myself sitting wide eyed in my bed at 3am, waiting for the moment that I could put my idea into action. I felt like clunking myself on the head with my knuckles because the idea had been so apparent. I could call Charlie at work.

I glanced at the clock. It was too early to call. Typically, his day started at eight and ended at five. I'd have to wait until after my run with Edward—who would no doubt be surrounded with fluffy bunnies and daisies—to call him. There were definitely obstacles and challenges with calling him at the station. Whether it was Joe or Sandra who answered the phone, they'd recognize my voice. If he wasn't there, they'd know it was me and tell him I called. In turn, he may voice it to James. They had caller ID at the station and I wasn't sure if the *67 would work when I called there. If someone recognized my voice, got the number and called the house to leave it for Charlie, wouldn't they surely give the number to his daughter's grieving fiancé?

As I thought about it, the idea didn't seem as grand as it originally had. There was some risk. A lot of risk but would it be worth it to get the message about James through to my Dad without exposing myself and him? How would he react? Would James know as soon as my dad showed his face around him? I would have to get him to understand how dangerous James is. Even then, I didn't know if I could tell him where I was without freaking out.

"Can I ask you a question?" My body was quickly getting accustomed to the running but my shins still ached and my breath still caught in my lungs.

"Depends," Edward replied, "Does the question start with 'why' and end in 'asshole'?"

"Not this particular question but it's possible that you're on the right track," I told him.

"Ask away," he told me as we turned a corner and headed in a different direction than we normally did.

"What would you say if I told you that I might have a way of getting in touch with my dad?"

"Without the douche bag finding out about it?"

"Yeah," I replied, "well, hopefully he wouldn't. It's not fool proof but it's all I have."

"What's your idea?"

"I call him at work where James won't be. Hopefully, I'd be able to convince

him where I am. The station has caller ID and I'm not sure I could keep them from finding out my number. Once I called, there's a good chance I'll be found."

"That sounds kind of risky. How much do you trust your Dad?"

"With my life," I told him and I meant it.

"Well, it shouldn't take a lot of convincing to get him to believe what you're telling him, then." His tone sounded cautious and I sensed there was more.

"I sense a 'but' in there somewhere."

"Without a statement from you in person, there's not much they can do to James without proof. Your dad might go a little crazy and wind up in jail, himself. Do you think he could control himself if he knew what happened and wasn't able to lock James up?"

I thought about it as sadness and defeat washed over me. "No, he wouldn't. He'd try to kill him."

"I'm not an expert but it might be better if you're able to wait and face the bastard so that you can file formal charges against him."

"And even then, he might still get away with it," I noted.

"Do you think your dad could at least trust you enough to come here without telling James? You could call him at work and let him know where you are so you could explain things to him. If he's in a completely different state then it would be difficult for him to take his anger out on him before they're able to lock him up."

That was the best idea so far. If I could get my dad here without James knowing I talked to him, it would be downhill from there.

"My biggest fear is that he'll give something away. James is waiting for this opportunity and the first strange look he gets from my dad, he'll know. I think he'll know as soon as he leaves town to come to Chicago. He might follow him here and kill him before he even reaches me."

I shuddered as I imagined my dad pale and bleeding in the streets somewhere at the hand of James. The girl flashed through my mind, the blond curls and the lifeless body that was flung over James' shoulder. He was capable of anything and it was terrifying.

"Things can go wrong with any situation, Bella. Do you have faith in your dad?"

"Of course," I replied, "but I also know how cold blooded and devious James is. All it would take is one off-kilter look and he would know."

"So, you could just stay here until you're ready," he offered. "We'll keep working out, getting you strong enough to face him. When you're ready, we'll call him."

"I can't stand the thought of that son of a bitch staying with my dad, eating his food and sleeping under the same roof. What kind of daughter am I to allow that without warning him? What if James decides to just off him in the middle of the night? No, I have to warn him."

"I thought you just said that you have faith in your dad," Edward noted.

"I do. He's the best man that I know and incredibly smart."

"Well, then, he will probably figure it out for himself, if he hasn't already. He's a grown man, Bella, and a cop to boot. You have to do what's best for you; wouldn't he say the same damn thing?"

"Yeah, he would. He'd want me doing whatever is the safest thing. Funny how the safest thing passed me up a year ago the day I left for Oklahoma. I was such an idiot. Sometimes, I think I should have stayed in Oklahoma; maybe, I deserved it for being such a moron to just up and leave with him like that. God, I even got engaged to him without even really knowing him. How stupid can one person be?"

"You're starting to piss me off," Edward warned.

I ignored him. "I should have fought harder the first day he handcuffed me to the stair banister. I should have killed myself trying to get away. I stopped screaming for help after a few hours—I should have screamed until my voice gave away. There were so many opportunities when I could have taken off but I was too freaking scared. I was weak and stupid. Maybe I deserve—"

Edward took my hand and brought me to a halt. He was furious, that much was obvious, but there was something else there too; something that scared me more than the anger.

"If you tell me that you deserved that one more time, I'm going to shake you so hard that your teeth are going to rattle," he ground out. His hand was still gripping my arm, his fingertips digging into my flesh. "No one deserves that, no matter how stupid they were when making decisions. Stop blaming yourself because it's pissing me off and it's giving me a really big fucking headache."

"Oh, then by all means, if it's inconveniencing you, I'll stop," I spat. "God forbid that Edward gets a headache over my fucked up life!"

He snarled at me and I narrowed my eyes in return.

"If you want to go back there and get…killed because you think you deserve it, then go right ahead. Who am I to stop you? But if you do, then you might as well take your dad with you because he's going to be the one with the guilt. He's going to suffer the rest of his life because he allowed you to get in that situation."

"He didn't allow me…it wasn't his fault," I said, weakly.

He cocked his head. "Who says? The man is a cop, Bella. Don't you think he should have done some sort of research on the guy before you moved hundreds of miles away with him? Did he have any reservations? Did he even realize that you were planning on marrying a man that you didn't love? It was every much his fault as it was yours and it's the reason why you keep making excuses not to call him. You lost your faith in your father the first time James beat the shit out of you."

Something snapped. I slapped him across the cheek, hard enough to turn his face sideways so that I was glaring at his profile. He closed his eyes and bit back several curse words that I knew were on the tip of his tongue.

I pressed my molars together and said, "Fuck you!" before running back from the direction I'd come. I half expected him to follow me but when I glanced over my shoulder to take note of where he was, he was still standing there. His face was angled toward the ground, and his typical strong posture was slumped in defeat.

After I turned the corner, I stopped running and found a place in the grass by the sidewalk. I put my hand over my face and sobbed until my stomach hurt. My lungs gasped for air and my eyes burned with salty tears.

How could I have done that? I hit him. How could I? All those times that I'd been beat down by James. The memories came at me and I felt like I was being smashed in the head with a two by four. Not only had the physical beatings hurt like hell, but it tore me down emotionally and mentally. The thought that I'd just hit someone, let alone someone who cared for me and was trying to help me, made my stomach turn.

A group of people walked by and stared at me on the ground. I kept my eye on the corner, hoping that I'd see Edward coming back from his run. The urgency to apologize was tormenting me from the tips of my toes to the split ends of my hair. When I had been sitting there for close to thirty minutes and there wasn't any sign of him, I stood up and started walking home.

It took me an hour. I'd be late to work and the thought of walking there made me almost laugh out of exhaustion. But I did and I made it there at only ten after.

"Sorry, I'm late," I said to Esme as she tidied up behind the counter. "I had some issues."

She raised her eyebrows in question.

"I got into an argument with Edward, one of my friends."

"What did he do?" she asked.

I smiled in spite of the crappy mood I was in. She had repeated my question, the same one I'd asked when she told me she argued with Carlisle.

"I'm a horrible person," I told her.

She grabbed my hand and pulled me into the back room. We hadn't opened yet so there wouldn't be anyone coming in. Esme was very intuitive. One look from her pale blue eyes and I was sunk. I burst into tears and she pulled me into a hug.

For the next twenty minutes, I repeated the same story that I'd told Rose and Edward. She didn't interrupt with questions nor did she flash me judgmental glares. I wondered if she would mind if I called her "Mom".

"So, this morning I had this brilliant idea to call my dad at work. While I was running, I told Edward about it and he accused me of blaming my dad for everything. He said that my dad should have stopped me from going to Oklahoma in the first place. His opinion is that deep down, I've lost faith in him and that's why I keep making excuses not to call him." I pulled my hair out of the ponytail and started pushing it back. "I'm trying to protect my father from a killer."

"It sounds like Edward is trying to help you but he has issues of his own," Esme pointed out.

"Yeah, he does but…" I took a deep breath and exhaled it through pursed lips. "Would it be horrible if I told you that he might not be far from the truth?"

"No, it wouldn't be horrible, Bella."

"I love my dad and before this happened, I saw him as invincible. A little immature for a college graduate, don't you think?"

"I think it's nice that you thought so highly of him," she told me. "There are lots of women your age that easily dismiss their parents."

"Now, though, now I can see his weaknesses. When I think of James manipulating the situation and my dad playing right into it, I feel…I don't know…" I wiped my eyes and blew my nose into a tissue that Esme had offered to me.

"Angry? Disappointed? Vulnerable?" she asked.

I nodded and a new wave of tears flooded my vision. "Yeah, all those things. Why can't he see through that monster's bullshit? He knows me, Esme. My dad knows me better than I know myself so why couldn't he see it from the very beginning? How do I know I'm safe with him if I choose to go back?"

I put my hands over my face to hide my shame. How could I think such things about the man who'd put his very life on the line for me? Charlie Swan was not perfect and that revelation brought me to my knees. He wasn't the smartest cop, the best judge of character or a flawless father—that was a hard pill to swallow.

"Did you tell him that you didn't love James?" Esme asked.

I peeked at her from between my fingers and shook my head.

"It's reasonable to feel this way, Bella. It really is. Do you know how many times I wish I could go back and analyze every little thing about Sarah's marriage? I used to lie in bed at night and go back through my memories and pick out little things that—if I had been paying attention—pointed to her abuse. If she was in your situation and she was talking to someone who wasn't her mother, do you know what advice I'd pray that she'd get?"

"What?"

"Protect yourself. Nothing, and I mean nothing, is more important than your child. You will do anything to preserve their innocence, educate them about the dangers of the world, and prepare them for what may come their way but they have to make decisions on their own at some point. At some point, parents have to shoo their kids out the nest, no matter how painful it is. That was what Charlie was doing for you—letting you fly."

I wiped some more and blew more snot before responding. "I didn't realize how similar you feel to what my dad would go through if he knew…"

"Parents' guilt never ends no matter how old your child is," she told me. "A very handsome and wonderful man told me that once."

I smiled. "Let me guess: Carlisle."

She grinned. "Yep."

"You don't seem shocked about anything I told you," I said, studying my shoes as I talked. "You knew, didn't you?"

"I told you that you and Sarah remind me a lot of each other. The day you walked in here, I took one look in your eyes and promised myself that I'd do anything I could to help you."

"I guess I looked pretty pathetic."

She shook her head and took my hand. "No, you looked like a survivor."

That night, as I made grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup, a strong storm started blowing in. It was unusual for this part of the year—it was almost September. Thunder roared in the distance and flashes of lightening lit up the twilight sky. The wind was brushing branches against the side of the building and my stomach tied up into a knot. If the power went out, I'd be screwed. I had been out after work, shopping for more workout clothes. If I'd known about the pending storm, I would have sprung for a good flashlight. The thought of being surrounded by complete darkness made my dinner hard to swallow.

When the storm finally hit, I was shaking and pacing back and forth in silent prayer. Making promises to God was easy in scary situations but I didn't find solace in anything else at the moment.

Dear God, if you love me, you'll keep the power on. Please. I'll do anything. I'll go to church every week. I'll get baptized again. I'll donate all my money to charity. Please. Please. Please. Amen

Then I crossed myself just so God knew I was serious. The lights flickered and I took that as a direct sign that God had it out for me. I yelped, ran back to my bedroom and grabbed my pillow. As another wave of thunder rolled through the sky, I snatched up my blanket too.

I peed quickly and brushed my teeth. After grabbing a bottle of water, I hunkered down in my corner where I absurdly felt safest. For good measure, I stopped breathing and stared at the living room light. It was dim but it still burned my eyes to look at it.

The lights blinked off and I yelped again. My heart stopped beating and the darkness surrounded me. Then they came back on.

I sighed out of relief, put my hand toward the heavens and squeaked out a "Thank you, God." Tears formed in my eyes. He really did love…

Then they went out. And they stayed out. My breath snagged in my chest and my stomach squeezed hard on its contents. I swallowed and hugged my knees to my chest. The darkness was different when it was the entire block going black. Electric stopped humming altogether in power outages making every little movement from all my fellow tenants sound like gunshots. I jumped at the footsteps above me and the shout from one of my neighbors at the front door.

"Oh God…" What more could I say to the mighty man upstairs? He obviously knew that all my promises had been laced with shit.

A door squeaked open then closed lightly. Footsteps. I closed my eyes but it made it worse. I opened them, blinking to readjust to the darkness. Someone knocked on my door and I froze. What if he found me? What if he cut the power out to the building and he was using the storm as an excuse to get me? What if…

"Bella?"

I let loose a sob at the sound of Edward's voice. There were only ten feet between me and the door. I could do ten feet.

"Are you okay?" he asked through the wood.

My mouth opened, inviting words to come out but I couldn't manage it. I stood up on shaky legs, clutching my pillow to my chest. He knocked again and I jumped out of my skin.

"Bella! Are you in there?"

I took one look around, gauging where my furniture was and took off. It took me two long seconds to reach the door, another three to fidget with the locks and get it open and one more to swing it wide. Before I knew what was happening, I flung myself at the hard body standing in the hallway and held on for dear life.

"What's wrong? Are you…is everything okay?" he asked, his voice strained from the girdle of arms around his waist.

"Yeah," I squeaked, "fine."

"Okay," he said, slowly. "Rose called and the kids are already in bed so she told me to leave her the fuck alone. I thought I'd come over and make sure that you're alright. Clearly, you're fine." The sarcasm in his voice on the last three words was thick.

"I really, really, really hate the dark," I mumbled.

He shifted on his feet and my body went with him because I wasn't letting go. It would take the Jaws of Life to pry me away. My ear rested on his chest and I could hear the faint beat of his heart through his chest. The warmth and sturdiness to his frame barely registered as the fear took hold of me, but it still registered. I still felt it. I closed my eyes and I felt like it was possible to sleep, to really sleep, for the first time in a year.

He sighed. "Do you want to come over to my apartment?"

"Or you can come to mine. Either way. I'm not picky. Just don't leave me alone."

"I won't leave you," he promised. "You have to let go so I can walk."

"Oh, you can make do. It'll be like dancing."

He snorted. "I don't dance."

"Well, neither do I so this should be pretty entertaining."

He blew out a puff of air and I imagined it filling out his cheeks like it normally does when a situation has mentally exhausted him. "I promise I won't leave you, Bella." He started to pry my hands apart and pull them away from his torso. I whimpered as my arms became empty. "I don't even mind if you watch me piss."

"Why…why do the lights have to go out?"

"It was a storm. It happens pretty frequently in the spring around here and it takes them ages to get it back up; sometimes in the winter, too, because of the ice."

"Oh, God…I have to move," I whined.

He chuckled as he opened his door and pulled me through the doorway by the hand. "Did the lights never go out in Seattle?"

"Oh, they went out but that was before…"

He closed the door and handed me what felt like a flashlight. I found the button and pressed it. The small light it offered was like some sort of miracle. Angels would have sung if they weren't all busy trying to find their own flashlights. A thump registered above us and I jumped.

"Chill out," he advised. "That's just the old man who lives above me. Walks with a cane."

"Humph," I replied.

"You want to do a work out? I was on my way over before the storm hit the lights."

I narrowed my eyes. "You were? It was a little late."

He shrugged. "Late is better than never, right?"

"What did you have in mind?"

"I'll go get my mitts," he said.

I thought about following him but decided that it was crazy but when he didn't come back in ten seconds, I started to panic.

"Edward?"

A muffled "what?" came from the hall way.

"What are you doing?"

There was a pause and I imagined him puffing out his cheeks with air again. "I'm taking a leak!"

"Oh."

He shuffled back out a short while later and gave me a look.

"You told me that I could come with you," I said.

"To the bathroom? I was kidding."

"You shouldn't kid with someone on the verge of a mental breakdown, you know. It'll get you into trouble."

"I'll keep that in mind," he replied. "Stand up."

He took the flash light out of my hands and stood it up on the TV stand so that it pointed at the ceiling. It created a spotlight effect that made me self conscious. I had retired my headband when I brushed my teeth and my bangs were ferocious.

"Here, put these on." He tossed me some gloves that felt thick and had the fingers cut out of them.

I examined them and found the tag still hanging from them. "These are brand new. Did you buy these for me?"

He shrugged in response.

"I'll pay you back," I told him.

"Consider it a gift," he said without looking at me.

I walked over and grabbed his hand. "Thank you for the gloves…for everything."

There was so much more I wanted to say; words on the tip of my tongue that were dying to be expelled. He looked at me and his eyes sparkled in the light from the flashlight. Guilt was a burden, weighing me down, as I remembered the feel of my palm smacking against his warm flesh. A lump knotted itself into my throat and I swallowed it down, barely able to keep from falling to my knees and begging for his forgiveness. I didn't deserve his kindness. I didn't deserve him.

"Now I know what to get you instead of flowers," he teased, sensing my wiry emotions.

I snorted and put on the gloves. When they were secure on my hands, he pulled me by the elbow into the center of the room. There wasn't any furniture except one love seat and a stand with a small, older TV sitting on it. It looked like he'd either just moved in or was on his way out, even though I knew neither of those was correct.

"Okay, so I'm going to teach you to pull some punches. Maybe some kicks, if you're up to it." He smiled, looking almost giddy at the prospect of teaching me to induce violence on the man who—unwittingly—led me to Chicago.

I put my fists up like Sylvester Stallone did in the movie Rocky, and plastered a sneer on my face. I thought about shouting out a loud "Adrian!" but decided, at the last minute, that the joke was tacky. No one likes tacky boxing jokes.

"No, no, no—your stance is all wrong." He moved toward me, setting the mitts down on the floor. "Is it okay for me to move behind you? Tell me if it is. Don't fib."

"I'll tell you if I feel like I might vomit."

"Good enough," he said and moved behind me. I expected panic, especially since the lights were out and the silence was so deafening but I got nothing. Well, not exactly nothing—I got the same feeling I'd gotten the last time Edward was that close to me. Safe. Warmth. Serenity. "Put one foot forward like this…" He nudged my heel with his toe and I stepped forward. "Next, angle your hips…and bend your knees a little." His hands on my hips caused me to lose focus. I forgot all about the bending knees and concentrated on the feel of him touching me, letting the heat of his hold on such an intimate place sink in.

"Bend your knees a little more, Bella." I mentally shook myself and bent my knees. "Good. Now, put this hand like this…" His fingertips grazed my arm as he positioned my stance. Why couldn't I just focus? Fireworks were going off inside me, from toes to brain and sweat started beading on my forehead. "Okay, I think you're ready. You look good, ready to fight like that."

I almost giggled.

He picked up the mitts and held them out, ready for me to start punching away. With dancing eyes, he told me which fist to use to punch at the mitts.

"Those things are hard," I complained. "My hand hurts."

"You're not concentrating," he scolded. "Think about what you're doing and just do it."

"I am and my knuckles are turning blue."

He straightened a little and narrowed his eyes in thought. "Why are you afraid of the dark?"

His question took me by surprise and I straightened.

"I've always been afraid of the dark," I admitted. "Even when I was little."

"When you were in school and the lights went out, you panicked like you did tonight? Because, I can't say I'm too comfortable with you clinging to the first guy you see just because the lights go out. A surefire way to get into your pants would be to simply flip the switch on your fuse box then knock on your door."

I sighed. "First of all, I could handle the fear a lot better back then and second, there wasn't a man at U-Dub that would have gone through that kind of trouble just to get into my pants."

"And here I thought all college boys were smart."

A blush crept up my face and I turned away to make sure it was clear of the light. He was good at flirting, I'd give him that. A smile was threatening to take over my face but I didn't want to give him the satisfaction.

"What happened to make you so terrified of the dark, Bella?" he asked.

"I told you, I've always been—"

"In Oklahoma, did he trap you in the dark while he was gone? Did he leave you in closets? The basement? Tell me so we can get it through to your knuckles how important this is."

My hands clenched into fists. "Let's just keep practicing. I'll be fine if—"

"What was it like being trapped in the dark all day? I can't imagine that it was pleasant. Did he even give you a place to use the bathroom? Did he even give you food?"

My eyes grew wet and I shifted on my feet. If only the lights would come back on and I could run across the hall and trap myself inside my own safe apartment. But I couldn't and he knew it. I was trapped just as I had been in Oklahoma.

"Damn you," I whispered. "Why are you doing this? Why can't I just do my thing and you do yours? Teach me, don't lecture me, Edward. Do you think this is easy to talk about? Because it isn't."

He approached me and I stood my ground. His hands gripped my upper arms gently and he pulled me even closer to him. I thought for a moment that he was going to hug me but he stopped short.

"I can't teach someone who doesn't want to learn," he said. "You need to remember why you are doing this. If a couple of bruised knuckles keep you from wanting to learn then…then we may as well quit."

I stared at him and he stared back. A tear trickled down my cheek and he swiped it away with his thumb. With a sigh, he let me go and turned around, tossing the mitts on the loveseat in a motion of surrender.

"H-he used to hunt me," I said. "He'd cut the power, cock his gun and tell me that I had a fifteen second lead on him."

Edward turned around and stared at me. "The gun; was it loaded?"

I nodded frantically. "Sometimes he'd put one bullet in the cylinder and spin it. When he found me, which he always did, he'd point and pull the trigger. I'd never know if I was going to get blown away or not. Other times, he'd strip me naked and…and used a paintball gun." Edward closed his eyes and shook his head, disgusted. "He loved it if I played well. If it took him a long time to find me, he'd get so freaking excited. If I didn't do well, then he'd either make me do it all over again or punish me. He owned a big house, so sometimes I could avoid him for fifteen, sometimes twenty minutes."

"I'm sorry, Bella," he whispered.

"When I'm in the dark, like I was tonight, all I can see is him moving around, ducking behind furniture in an effort to find me. You were right about being trapped in closets and the basement during the day but that wasn't so bad. Anytime he wasn't home, wasn't so bad compared to when he was."

Edward was five feet away and then he wasn't. In a flurry of motion, he was in front of me and wrapping me in his arms. This time, I didn't hesitate to hug him back and melt into his warmth and hard muscled body.

Oh God, thank you, God…

His voice was full of emotion when he spoke. "I'm so sorry for what I said earlier…about your dad. I didn't mean—"

"You were right."

His muscles tightened. "What?"

"You were right," I repeated. "I think that I'm terrified to go back to my dad because he let me down. He's not as tall as he was before I went to Oklahoma."

"Oh Bella," Edward cooed as he smoothed circles on my back with one of his palms. "I'm sure your dad is a great cop and an amazing father. I don't want something I said to change your mind about him."

I shook my head against his chest. "You didn't; you only helped me realize that he's not perfect and I'm too scared to risk him knowing where I am. Not yet."

With reluctance, I pulled away from him and put my hand on the same cheek I'd hit hours before. "I don't…I'm so sorry that I hit you. I'm so ashamed and I would do anything to take it back."

He looked at me; the fire that was always so transparent in his eyes was almost glowing in the dull light. "It's okay. I probably deserved it."

I shook my head. "No, no, no one ever deserves that."

The corner of his mouth pulled up into a crooked grin. "Oh, I can think of one person who does and if I ever met him, he'd have trouble walking the rest of his life. My boot is a size thirteen and it would feel pretty nasty going up his—"

I couldn't help myself. I shot forward and cut off his speech with a kiss. It wasn't R-rated—our lips remained pressed tightly together and it was awkward, at best, but I hadn't had much practice. Edward was like a statue, his body stiff from the contact. When I pulled away, we shifted awkwardly away from each other. Edward's knuckle grazed the stubble on his jaw and I fiddled with my bangs.

"So, you ready to try this again?" His voice cracked as he picked up his mitts. "Remember the reason you're afraid of the dark. Think about that when you're beating the shit out of this leather."

I nodded and grinned. "Let me at 'em."

For the next hour, I followed his instructions and instead of feeling the pain, I savored it. I drank it in and relished in the fact that I was choosing the pain. It was my choice to feel it and I let it better me, as a person.

"You did good," he said, sitting beside me.

"Thanks," I said, awkwardly, "sorry about, erm, before."

He furrowed his brows. "What?"

"I didn't plan on kissing you. When you talk about doing physical harm to James, I just get all—"

"Horny?"

I sputtered, coughed and snorted all at the same time while my face blushed scarlet. "No!" I squealed.

"I'm teasing," he said with a grin. "Don't worry about it. It wasn't so bad."

I cleared my throat and willed the lights back on. Nothing happened. "Is it terribly horrible of me to ask if I can sleep on your couch?"

"You can sleep in my bed. I'll take the couch," he reached his arms behind him and stretched. "Who knows; maybe, I'll join you in the middle of the night and start talking more physical violence on that douche bag. I'd like to push the envelope on that one."

I rolled my eyes, thankful that he wasn't being a jerk about it.

An hour later, I was tossing and turning in bed. The dark was too dark and the night was too quiet. Edward was only thirty feet away in the living room. I could hear his snores from where I was lying. But still, the sudden noises of the night made me restless.

A floor creaked somewhere and it sounded close. I sat up in bed and listened. It happened again and it sounded like someone was walking down the hallway. I pulled the sheet up to my chin and stopped breathing. Edward's snoring was still echoing off the walls like a chainsaw and still, the floor creaked again. Panic rose in my throat and I prepared to scream as I stared at the door to his room expectantly. No one appeared. Nothing happened.

Had it been my imagination? No, it happened again. The prayer from Forest Gump repeated in my head like some sort of Voodoo charm:

Dear God, make me a bird so I can fly far, far, far away from here...Dear God, make me a bird so I can fly far, far, far away from here…Dear God…

Then it happened again, this time further down the hallway. Someone was going toward the living room, toward Edward.

"Oh, shit!" I hissed.

Then I did the only thing I could think of and I screamed Edward's name as loud and as quiet as I could. It came out as a shriek/hiss.

He came bounding down the hallway, his size thirteen feet pounding away at the worn carpet.

"What?" He looked around the room, blinking and trying to focus. He was in fighting stance, his knees bent and his chest puffed out. "What?"

"I think someone is in your apartment," I hissed.

"What makes you say that?"

"The floor was creaking in the hallway like someone was walking on it."

He rubbed his palms over his face and straightened. "That's the pipes. They run right under my hallway so they get creaky sometimes. Usually, you don't hear it but with the power out, it's pretty quiet so…"

"Oh…oh, I'm sorry that I woke you up," I whispered.

He blinked at me with a frown on his face.

"What?" I asked, tugging at the sheet.

"You haven't fallen asleep yet, have you?" he asked.

I shook my head. "It's too dark."

He sighed. "I can sleep in here if you want."

My eyebrows shot up. "You would?"

"No funny business," he said, pointing a finger at me. "As soon as women know that I'm a size thirteen, they can't wait to get inside my pants."

I snorted but blushed for the hundredth time that night. "I'll try to keep myself from humping you in the middle of the night."

He flopped down beside me and I immediately felt better.

"Just so you know," he said, "I wouldn't blame you if you did."

A/N: Thank you, Mother Nature! Cocky and sweet Edward is the best, right? The whole fight with Edward was tough to write but had to be done. Bella had to learn absolute trust in Edward and come to terms with what she was feeling toward Charlie. Hope it wasn't too hard to read.

How do you think Bella and Edward are going to wake up? Anybody want an extra chapter this weekend? Lemme know... :)