Please Note: This chapter changed the rating from "T" to "M" for a reason. It is not for the faint of heart

I have died everyday waiting for you

Chapter 4:

I stared at the spot where the unnaturally big man had just exited. Everything looked bigger from the floor view, including the distance to the door. It seemed like I would only get out of here when a lifetime had passed. My eyes stung and my nose stuffed itself up.

Dr. Owens and a woman I hadn't cared to learn the name of lifted me off the floor. I squirmed, not liking the feeling of their hands on me. Dr. Owens scolded me with a hard pinch to my upper arm. "Control yourself." He hissed at me. I coughed as his rancid breath filtered through my nose. The smell of old cigarettes and tuna made my eyes water.

The woman left me alone with him after they finished depositing me onto his patients couch in his office. I missed the waiting room. I squeezed my eyes shut and pretended I was back there.

I pretended I couldn't smell Dr. Owens' cologne and nasty breath as it clogged my nose. He was close to me now- much too close. I did nothing to stop the panic I felt.

I pretended that his cold hands didn't swarm my body, first softly, then growing rougher and rougher. I didn't shudder away from his touch because I was not there. I was back in the waiting room.

I pretended that I didn't hear his zipper pull down.

I pretended that he didn't grab my arms and position me how he pleased on the couch. I pretended his weight didn't suffocate me as he climbed on top of me, trapping me, and I pretended that he didn't move my hands to his thighs. I pretended I didn't hear his urging noises.

He took my hands and shoved them downward, moaning pitifully. I was in the waiting room. He captured both hands and held them against his bare crotch. I was in the waiting room. Dr. Owens leaned down and pressed his wet lips to my face, wiping them all over. I was in the waiting room. The grunts got louder as he moved my hands faster. I was in the waiting room.

I squeezed my eyes shut and stopped breathing. My body betrayed me a minute later and I gasped for air. The ceiling had three tiles that were darker than the others. Dr. Owens was sweating and grunting and panting. It was almost over. My jeans chaffed on my stomach and I focused on that slight pain. I was in the waiting room I was in the waiting room.

He bent forward and pawed at my chest. I was in the waiting room I was in the waiting room I was in the waiting room I wasin thewaiting room Iwasinthe waiting room Iwasinthewaitingroom Iwasinthewaitingroom Iwasinthewaitingroom . One final tug and he collapsed on top of me.

Dr. Owens did not run his hands down my arms and he did not pat the side of my head condescendingly. His filthy hands did not touch me and he did not thank me for being a good girl.

What he did do, was step off the couch, pull up his pants, and straighten his tie.

I was still on the couch, trembling. My eyes bore holes into the back of his shirt. My body did not feel like my own.

He turned and smirked at me. "Keep giving me looks like that and I'll suggest you need to go back to Cloverville." I looked away. "That's what I thought."

Dr. Owens wiped at the sweat on his neck with a discolored tissue and sat down behind his desk with a satisfied look. He glanced at the clock hanging on the wall behind the couch and grinned widely. "We've made excellent time, Holly. We still have about an hour of time left together." He clasped his hands in front of him on the desk and crooked his head. "Now, is there anything you would like to talk about?"

I wished Presley was here.

XOXO
ಠ_ʘ
XOXO

After I threw up the second time, Miriam started to insist I should go to the doctor. I lay on the bathroom floor next to the toilet and hummed a short upbeat tune. The bits of hair that covered my eyes swirled around in my vision and I asked them nicely to go away.

My mother left after I said that. I immediately missed her company. I didn't feel like being alone. I coughed a little and rolled over onto my side. I positioned my hands so that they were both behind me. My right shoulder popped.

My stomach churned but I knew that I wouldn't throw up again. After I took the new handful of medication, I barely remembered why I was throwing up in the first place.

I narrowed my eyes as a sudden thought struck me. "Food poisoning!" I gasped out. "Miriam!" I screamed. I screamed and I screamed and I screamed and my feet were kicking but I wasn't the one moving them. My body thrashed around like a marionette and I screamed some more. My throat cracked and the voice echoed around in the bathroom, bouncing back to my skull.

A rush of footsteps came charging up the stairs. "Holly? What!" I imagined my mother flying into the bathroom on a broomstick. That was the only explanation for how she'd gotten up the stairs so quickly.

A second voice joined hers. "You freak Holly, why did you start yelling? I was on the phone! They probably heard your lose your shit!"

"Sorry," I mumbled out to Presley. She scoffed and stormed away. Miriam was leaning down over my face now and was brushing the hair out of my eyes. I blinked and looked at her. Her eyes were brown. I sat up quickly and my head swirled.

"Holly, Holly! What is it, what? Oh god. Answer me right this sec-!"

I clamped a hand down over her mouth. My mother's nose wrinkled and she pried my hand away. Belatedly I realized that I forgot to wash my hands after throwing up. They probably smelled.

"I'm trying to remember…" I trailed off. Why did I need her here? Oh! Right…"You poisoned me!" I yelled, pointing a finger at her. "I threw up because you gave me rotten toast!"

Miriam looked taken aback. She did something funny with her face because her forehead wrinkled itself up. I couldn't hold in the laugh that spurted out of me. My laughter only made her face more wrinkled, which in turn, made me laugh even harder.

Miriam wrapped her arms around me and held me close. The laughter was dying down now, but still came in tiny gasps. My mother squeezed me tightly and whispered against my hair, "I love you, baby girl."

I didn't say anything back but I squeezed her just as hard as she held me.

"Can we go out for food?" I asked her. My mother looked down at me and before she could answer, I tacked on, "just the two of us?"

"I think we could swing that. There's a new place that opened by Dr. Owens' office. Do you remember me telling you about it last week? It's supposed to be really..."

I stopped listening to her speech. I detangled myself from her body and walked into my room. I shivered slightly at the change in temperature. I saw that my window was open. I wasn't sure if I was the one who opened it or not.

I grabbed my sweatshirt from the floor and pulled it around my body. "Ready!" I shouted.

"Ready for what?" Presley walked into my room and sat on the edge of my bed.

"Miriam," Presley rolled her eyes at the name, "and I are attending dinner together."

"Why can't you just call her mom?"

I sat down on the bed next to her. Presley told me to turn around and I did. Her fingers weaved themselves through my hair, braiding it. A minute later her fingers stilled and I felt the slight tug of a hair band.

"Thank you, Presley." I mumbled.

"Have fun at dinner without me, Holly. I'll just eat something here. Not like I'll starve or anything. Not like we basically have no food or anything."

I stood up quickly. "Don't eat the toast." I said seriously, and then walked out of the room, leaving my twin sister behind.

I faintly heard her mocking me, "Don't eat the toast says my fuckin' crazy sister."

I tuned myself out as I walked down the stairs because she had cursed and Dr. Owens says I don't have to listen to anyone who curses at me.

XOXO
ಠ_ʘ
XOXO

I stared down at my empty plate, wondering where all the food had gone. I let out a particularly loud belch and patted my unsatisfied stomach.

"Embry, you burp again at the table and it'll be the last thing you do."

"Sorry, Ma." Grinned at her sheepishly and ran a hand through my longish hair. I mentally reminded myself to ask Emily if she would shave it down again. It never used to grow this fast. Goddamned wolf genes.

Mom gave me a reproachful look and started to clear away the dishes, walking them over to the sink. I got up quickly and took the empty lasagna plate out from the middle of the table. I dumped it into the sink and hosed it down with soapy water while my mom puttered around the dining room, shifting back and forth nervously. I heard her heartbeat speed up.

"Just spit it out, Embry. What's going on?" Her breathing hitched.

I paused washing the dish. "How do you know something's going on?" I asked her.

"My son, in the kitchen, cleaning dishes? The last time you helped me around the house you stayed out until six in the morning and came back filthy."

I winced slightly, remembering that night. Jasper Cullen had crossed the treaty line hunting a deer and Sam had been pissed. Japser said it was purely accidental, but I wasn't buying it. We ran the La Push perimeter for hours on end when Sam, Jake, and the leeches talked it over. In the end it was worked out, but our treaty was very nearly broken. The bloodsuckers coming onto our land was unacceptable. As far as I was concerned, if it happened again, the treaty was off for good.

"So? What is it?" My mom had her hands on her hips now, glaring at me. Her eyes though…the look there was like a kick to the spleen. I didn't want to lie to her, but she could never know the truth. If being in the dark was supposedly going to keep her safer, then so be it.

"I'm going out with Paul later. School stuff." I shrugged.

My mom sighed. "Embry, stay in tonight." She pleaded.

The honk of a horn from outside penetrated through our house. Leave it to Paul to have terrible timing.

"Ma-"

She raised a hand in defeat. "What I say clearly doesn't hold any stock with you because it sounds like your friend just arrived. You were planning on going, regardless of what my answer was."

I held her gaze steadily. Two quick honks, one after the other, cut through the silence. My mother shook her head sadly. I knew I had disappointed her.

I left the soapy dish in the sink and walked out of the house. I didn't apologize. I had said sorry so many times already, and I couldn't bring myself to tell her those empty words anymore.

The air inside Paul's beat up van was bitter with impatience.

"The fuck took so long?" He snarled at me.

"Dude, just drive, alright?" I snapped back. "I'm not in the mood." The van made a sharp stop and I flung forward into the windshield.

"I'm not your goddamned chauffer. You get in the mood. I'm only driving to Forks because it was this or listening to Kristy bitch at me again. Plus, not gonna lie, the thought of you punching out a psychiatrist is hilarious."

Paul resumed driving. I frowned, digesting his speech. "I'm not going to 'punch out' anyone. I'm going to talk to the therapist about the prices these shitty sessions are costing me."

"How much he'd try to take you for?"

"Two fifty per session." I thanked my lucky stars I was able to intercept the phone call from the office when they called after my appointment. The thought of going into that building for a second time today was leaving a bad taste in my mouth, but the thought of my mom actually paying the hack that amount of money left me with a bad taste all over.

Paul whistled appreciatively. "Guy's got balls."

"I'm going to try and haggle him down to seventy-five. Then all I have to do is make a speedy recovery and I'll be outta there by the end of the month. I'll say a few words, squeeze out a tear, and thank him for nothing." I clapped my hands together. "Foolproof."

Paul's van wheezed through a yellow light.

"Hey, Asshat." Paul growled dangerously and I pointed a thumb over my shoulder. "You missed the turn."

The way Paul swung the truck around was definitely not legal. Guessing by the number of angry honks and middle fingers we received, I think it's safe to say the general population of Forks agreed with me.

By the time Paul managed to park crookedly in the building's parking lot, my hands had a slight tremor to them. I fisted my hands, making sure he didn't see them. Paul would never let me live it down that his careless driving had broken my hard earned control.

He gave me an eat shit grin and hopped out of the truck. Belatedly, I realized that he may be enjoying himself too much.

"Which way?" He asked me. I started to point when he raised a hand to cut me off. "No, wait, I'll just sniff the air like some tracking dog or whatever and follow the scent of douche bag."

I slugged him in the shoulder not lightly and lowered my voice threateningly. "We're just here to talk to him. Cut the shit."

I barged ahead of him and to my pleasure, Paul followed me willingly. We walked silently into the lobby and took the elevator up to Dr. Owens' office. I swallowed my worry of this not working- I wasn't prepared to take no for an answer.

The elevator popped open and we were dumped a little ways down from the door to his waiting room. Paul cracked his knuckles loudly behind me. The hallway smelled of latex. I pulled the door open and we walked in.

"May I help you?" The bored voice of a receptionist I didn't recognize called out to us almost immediately. I sauntered over to her desk. She looked to be about fifteen.

"I'm here to see Dr. Owens."

The blonde girl's face scrunched up. "Sorry, I have no idea who that is. This is Mrs. Freesher's office?"

I paused for a moment then said clearly, "I was here earlier today. This is Dr. Owens' office." Paul shifted his weight from where he stood behind me. I could feel his annoyance.

"Ooooh, is he a therapist?" I gave her a blank look.

Paul was done waiting- he nudged me out of the way and leaned onto the desk, taking up most of it. "Hey." His voice rolled out smoothly. "You see my friend right here?" He pointed to me and the girl nodded, blushing slightly. I felt my face get hot. "He's having a crisis. He needs Dr. Owens right about now." Paul leaned down to whisper something supposedly private in her ear. He knew I could hear him, but she didn't.

"His girlfriend just dumped him, right?" He held out his two index fingers a few inches apart. "His junk is about this big. Poor girl was so unsatisfied she left him right after. This kid's a hot mes-"

I grabbed Paul's shoulder and hauled him back, my face completely red now. I wasn't sure whether to laugh at the girl's sympathetic face or punch myself for letting it go on that long. Maybe I'd just punch Paul later.

"I just need to see Dr. Owens." I spoke harshly through my clenched teeth.

The girl flipped her hair. "This is Mrs. Freesher's office now. She's a speech therapist. Dr. Owens probably ended his schedule for today, because Mrs. Freesher only comes in once he's done."

I bit back a growl of frustration. "Fine. He'll be back tomorrow, right?"

The girl looked at me blankly. "I don't know?"

"Do you know anything?" I asked her rudely.

She gave me a nasty smile. "You'll be leaving now," she announced to me. "And I wish you the best with your small issue…or should I say microscopic."

Paul doubled over with laughter right at the desk and the girl looked proud of herself. I scowled at the both of them and walked out, shutting the door loudly behind me. I was halfway to the elevator, fuming, when Paul caught up.

"Not cool." I told him. We rode the elevator down in silence.

We were almost back to his van when he muttered, "Sorry."

I nodded to show that I heard him and didn't do anything else but get into the crappy van. Paul wasn't a big one to admit he was wrong and I knew the shitty apology was probably the only one I'd ever get.

Paul's stomach roared loudly and he glared down at me defensively. "What? I ran patrol today and haven't eaten for hours. I'm starving here."

I knew my own stomach was displeased with me. The normal sized portion of lasagna I had tonight wasn't going to cut it for much longer. "Think Emily's cooking tonight?" I asked him hopefully

"Yeah…" Paul looked crestfallen. "I'm banned for a little, though. Sam cooked this dinner for Emily. It was expensive ham or some meaty shit. It was delicious, seriously. He seasoned it or something. How was I supposed to know it was for Emily! He alpha ordered me to fuck off for a few days."

Paul pulled out of the lot and only a block or two later I spotted a newish looking diner. We were stopped at the traffic light just outside and the smells wafted in through the window. Our stomachs growled in tandem.

"I don't have any money," I began.

Paul finished my thoughts exactly. "Dine and Dash?"

"Dine and Dash." I confirmed.

As soon as the light changed, Paul pulled the van into the lot. He hit a curb and, for the second time that day, I was nearly flung out of my seat. I toyed with the idea of wearing seat belts for about half a second, then decided against it. It just seemed like a hassle.

I had only Dine and Dashed once before, with Quil. It's not something I'm particularly proud of, but I figured if I'm running double patrols, ruining my already strained relationship with my mom, and transforming into a wolf beast everyday to protect these unknowing people from vampires, the least I could get is a free meal.

I had no second guessing once we were both seated comfortably in a booth close to the door. I was completely comfortable in what I was about to do.

The waiter, a slightly overweight older man, slowly ambled his way over. "What can I get for yous?"

Paul cut in front of me. "Two steaks- the big ones, with all the sides."

The man blinked lazily. "And for you?"

"I'll have the same."

The waiter shuffled away and I bounced my feet underneath the table. A moment later the waiter shuffled back bringing with him two tall glasses of water and steak knives. As soon as he left, Paul grabbed a steak knife and carelessly started to bend the blade in half.

"Dude, seriously?" I asked him. I lowered my voice, "It's bad enough we're not paying for this shit. You don't have to ruin the crap here, too."

He just looked at me and continued bending the knife back and forth, twisting the blade, silently daring me to say something again.

It wasn't worth the strain. I sighed quietly and looked out the window. It was starting to get darker.

A small car pulled into the lot and I watched two women get out of the car and walk with purpose towards the diner entrance. One of them, the shorter woman wearing a thick sweatshirt with the hood pulled over her head, slowed down almost to a stop right on the steps. The taller one turned around. It looked like they were arguing.

I lost interest and turned back to Paul, who had started ruining my knife now. I grabbed it from his hands but quickly pulled back when Paul shoved the knife forward into my grasp, letting the blade puncture my skin. "Asshole." I muttered.

I dropped my hand to my side below the table. A few seconds later I felt the slight pain stop. I scanned the table looking for any blood and when I didn't find any, I shot Paul the bird with my now uninjured hand.

He snickered. The door bell chimed and a second later a delicious scent filled my nose. I breathed in deeply, feeling my stomach rumble, letting the smell of juicy steak wash over me. It was everything I could do to stop the drooling.

Paul shifted in his seat, obviously smelling the steak, too. The older waiter walked steadily towards our booth, accompanied by a young waitress. Her name tag read "trainee." They were each holding two plates of steak. I think Paul actually did start to drool when the four steaks were set down on the table, still sizzling from being on the grill.

"Be right back with your sides." The trainee spoke nervously and I didn't bother to pay any attention to her. All my focus was on one thing right now: food.

The first bite was indescribable. So much juice, so many flavors, so, so good. If I moaned, I didn't care.

"This is better than sex." Paul declared around a mouth of half digested meat.

I'm not ashamed to say I agree with him.

We were both done with our first steaks when our side orders came. The trainee was gone now, and only our usual waiter stood in front of us. I reached out to lift the green beans and mashed potatoes off his trembling arms as Paul attacked the gravy boa, roasted onions, and stuffing with zeal.

The next several minutes neither of us spoke. Our only concerns were stuffing as much food as possible into our bodies, and then getting the hell out of here. I had just finished off the last bit of stuffing when Paul shifted again in his seat. He had done it a few times during the meal and now I was wondering if it was more than just impatience.

"What's up, man?" I burped loudly and patted my stomach leaning back against the seat.

"Feel funny." He grunted.

I shrugged. It was hardly the crisis I was imagining, namely, him sensing there was a leech nearby. "Probably gas."

Paul rolled his eyes.

A sudden crash, the kind associated with breaking dishes- a lot of dishes, came from the other side of the diner.

The two women I saw park in the lot were now both standing up, looking at the pile of broken glass on the floor. Or rather, the taller one was looking. The shorter one was fisting and un-fisting her hands so quickly it seemed almost like a blur.

Paul whistled low under his breath and turned back around to his bit of roasted onion he still hadn't manage to polish off. "Hate to have to clean that shit up."

"Yeah…" I agreed with him, but couldn't look away from the scene in front of me.

"Kinda perfect, actually." Paul continued, unaware I wasn't giving him my full attention. "Good distraction for when we leave in a few."

The shorter woman sat herself down on the floor now and was rocking back and forth humming loudly. A small suspicion rose in my gut and I quashed it down swiftly. It wasn't her.

"Holly!" My insides clenched at the name. The taller brunette woman leaned down and whispered harshly in her face, "Get off the floor!"

I leaned forward in my seat, thankful for my wolf genes. I wanted to hear her reply. It wasn't necessary, because when Holly replied back, she screamed, quick, loud, and very high pitched. "YOU CAN'T FALL OFF THE FLOOR, MIRIAM!"

Paul whipped his head around and muttered, "Jesus, what drugs is this bitch on?" At the same time I cursed, "Fuck, it's her."

Paul's snapped his head back to me. "You know her?"

"Yeah, she was in Dr. Owens' office with me earlier today. She did the same shit before, too." I squeaked my voice up high, imitating her. "You can't fall off the floor!"

Paul sniggered and stood up abruptly. "Let's get out of here."

I got up in front of Paul and opened the door as nondescript as possible. I gestured for him to go in front of me first and I jumped about a mile high when that girl, Holly, started cackling. I looked down at her, horrified, as she swayed back and forth, the same heartless, dead, empty laughter shooting out of her mouth.

"Let's get out of here, Paul." I said quietly, and walked outside. The door slammed shut behind me. I winced and groaned loudly. "You fuck! Now they all know we're-" I did a full circle around me, searching for my pack mate. "Paul?"

I looked back into the diner and saw Paul standing there, still staring down at the girl. A mixture of complete disgust and absolute admiration lined his face. I followed his eyes back to Holly, whose screeches of laughter had mellowed down. The older woman, Miriam, was hunched over her, running her fingers through her hair.

I froze, not understanding.

I looked back at Paul and then searched the diner. He had to be looking at someone else. Fuck, maybe he was admiring the art on the walls. He did not- no. I wasn't even going to say it.

I'll admit, my thoughts were not kind. What kind of personal hell would I go through now that this insane girl had somehow caught Paul's attention? Would I have to deal with this shit every day now? Was it even possible to imprint on the mentally insane? Surely fate wouldn't be that cruel…

I watched the woman, Miriam, shoot daggers at Paul. She crowded herself in front of Holly, effectively blocking most of Paul's view.

Seizing my chance, I barged into the diner, fisted my hand, and punched Paul as hard as I could right into the side of his face. His body, not expecting the blow, twisted around violently and he fell to the floor.

He looked up at me, his mouth gaping like a fishes. I hauled him up off the floor and shoved him out of the door first.

"Where? Wha-."

I gave him a particularly hard shove towards the van passenger door. In his dazed state it was easy to manipulate him into the seat. I didn't trust him to be able to drive away from her. I slammed the door in his face and made it into the van's driver seat just in time for Paul to regain himself.

He frantically squirmed in the seat and tried to open the door. My fist prevented him from being successful.

"Fuck! Stop punching me, you prick!" A trickle of blood ran down from his nose.

"Paul!" I roared, my hands shaking. "Did you imprint?" He looked at me, mouth open, eyes wild. "Did you imprint?" I demanded again.

He shakily nodded his head and I beat the wheel with my fists. "Shit. Alright, we're leaving."

"N-"

I cut him off with a loud growl. "You're not thinking clearly, Paul. We both just saw that girl lose her shit all over the place in there and-"

"Don't talk about her like that!" Paul spat at me. His entire body was trembling.

I went on like he hadn't interrupted. "She's in no condition to get a goddamned soul mate today."

Paul wasn't listening. His fist went for my left cheek and I deflected it easily. The fact that my face wasn't bleeding was a show of just how much this had shaken him.

"I know her!" I yelled at him. "You stupid idiot! When we leave, which we are, we'll be able to find her. You need to calm down." I tried to put force behind the command like Sam does. I'm not sure if it made a difference, or if sense was entering his mind again. "Calm." I repeated.

He took a deep breath in and held it for a moment. When he blew the air out, I saw his frame relax slightly. The trembling was less, too. His human shape looked more solid.

It was then that I struck. I balled up both my fists and aimed three hard punches to the back of his skull. I felt a crack in my right knuckle and ignored it to deliver one more blow, directly to Paul's temple.

He slumped forward in the passenger seat and I threw the car into reverse and pulled out of the lot like a madman. My hits wouldn't keep him out forever- hopefully just long enough to get him to Sam.

As I rushed back towards La Push, I couldn't help but notice how much darker the sky was looking.

Author's Note: Sorry for the later upload, I lost internet for a few days! Good? Bad? Too graphic? I really tried not to be. Let me know, please.