He'll wrap you in his arms

Tell you that you've been a good boy

He'll rekindle all those dreams

It took you a lifetime to destroy

-Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, Red Right Hand

Chapter 2: Again

I ran out into the bright sunlight, cringing when it hit my eyes. I turned slightly – he wasn't behind me anymore. I bent over and braced myself on my knees, struggling to catch my breath. I looked back again – still nothing. And then I heard the voice, the whistling and my name being called, over and over again in a smooth sing-song voice.

I started to run again, the wind whipped through my hair and my eyes watered from the cold, bitter air. The footsteps behind me grew louder. I couldn't see where I was going; my vision blurred from panic. Although at this moment I didn't care, all I wanted was to get away and find help.

The footsteps and heavy breathing behind me faded into silence. I calmed down a bit, my heart rate slowed and I slowly came to a stop. When my vision cleared I saw where I was. My sneakers sunk into the damp leaves and twigs on the ground below me and I leaned against the soggy bark of a leafless tree. I was in the woods, but it looked all too familiar.

Was I in Forks?

The trees seemed to be reaching out for me, calling me. Their branches twisted and curved into an opened a path where I saw a man standing and staring into my eyes, his harsh gaze was furious. The branches grew, one wrapped around my arm and muddy roots climbed my legs. I panicked, flailing and waving my arms, pulling them off me. I dodged their branches and started to run again. My feet screamed for me to stop, my tennis shoes were caked with brown mud, and the soles of the shoes were nearly letting in.

"Bella, Bella, Bella," a voice breathed in my ear. "You can't run outrun me, girl!"

I screamed, terror coursing through my veins and I tripped over my own feet, falling into the muddy ground below me. A hand grabbed my suede jacket and heaved me from the ground, hugging my back to his firm chest, his arms wrapped tightly around my torso.

"Please," I pleaded. "Don't hurt me!"

"Oh, Bella baby," he whispered as he ran his nose along my jaw line. "Don't be afraid,"

I shuddered and felt the tears well in my eyes.

He gripped my shoulders and spun me around, my legs giving out from under me. He held me tightly against his body. His tattooed hand came up to grip my chin, forcing me to look up into his eyes and what I saw there frightened me more than anything else.

I woke up to the shrill ringing of my alarm clock. I slammed my palm down on it, silencing it for the time being. I rolled over and sat up, disoriented from my nightmare. My head spun as I scrubbed my hands down my face, letting out a heavy breath between my fingers.

It'd been two weeks since I'd seen him, so why was his face constantly appearing in my thoughts? He frightened me. He meant nothing to me; I didn't even know his name. But I couldn't deny the attraction I'd felt when I'd been near him. He had a sort of mysteriousness about him that drew me in and left me wanting more. His tattoos gave him an intimidating guise that left people staring and avoiding his path.

I shook my head, attempting to clear the unreasonable thoughts in my head. I had to stop. The chance that I'd see him again was nearly one in a million.

I hurriedly climbed out of my bed, throwing on a pair of blue jeans with holes in the knees and a white v-neck shirt. I pulled my converse on while I was heading out the door, nearly tripping over my welcome mat in the process.

I turned around and locked the door to my apartment, checking to make sure the deadbolt would hold. The apartment building I'd moved into was in all probability the cheapest in all of Brooklyn. If you stood outside the building itself you'd most likely think it was abandoned. The red brick was old and crumbling. The front door was black; the paint was chipped so severely that you could see the color they'd attempted to cover up. The fire escape was brown and rusted and looked as if it were going to crumble to the ground below at any moment.

My old red truck was parked in front of the building, blending in with its surroundings. I fought to get the door open and hopped into the cab. My truck was my solace, my only memory of Forks. My father, Charlie, had scraped what little money he'd had together to buy me this hunk of junk for my sixteenth birthday. I'd been so elated when he'd hopped out of the cab, baseball cap on backwards and his old 'Forks Police Department' shirt on. He'd said, "Happy birthday, kiddo", and walked into the house.

I quickly pushed the memory out of my mind as tears came to my eyes and my throat tightened. Charlie had passed away nearly a year ago, suffering a fatal heart attack and going into cardiac arrest almost immediately. I'd told the man to stop smoking, but he was stuck in his ways. I now knew when I'd gotten my stubbornness from.

Shortly after Charlie's death I moved to Brooklyn. I'd received the best scholarship opportunity from Brooklyn College for a degree in psychology. I acted on the offer as soon as possible, desperate to get out of Forks and away from the memories that hit too close to home.

I had the day off today, no classes and no appointments.

I headed straight to the public library.

This is where I felt the most comfortable and relaxed in Brooklyn. When I entered the doors I quickly headed back to the psychology section. I took my time searching for specific informational books. I picked four and slapped them down onto a table in the back corner, sitting one of the old wooden chairs. I pulled my papers out of my bag and went to work.

Nearly an hour in I noticed a tall figure moving between the bookshelves. I brushed it off quickly at first. Typically, there was no one else in this section. It was hidden in the back corner of the library but I assumed it was another psychology student doing research as well. The person was mostly hidden by the shelves books but I could make out the faint outline of a man in a black T-shirt.

He continuously moved among the shelves, shifting his body weight and clearing his throat. I was becoming increasingly irritated. I was so accustomed to working in silence. I slapped my pen down on my notebook and stared at the ceiling, rubbing my hands over my face.

When my gaze fell from the white paneled ceiling I nearly fell from my chair. The man that'd been pacing the isles was now standing in front of my table, leaning on a black cane, green eyes roaming over me with a small crooked smile on his handsome face.

A/N: Alright so exciting stuff, eh? This next chapter will be a little more interesting. I wanted to give a bit of a hint to Bella's past and her demeanor which will drastically change throughout this story. Oh! And check out my one-shot if you like! I wrote it a while back but it's a bit of fun! More Edward soon to come! ;) Reviews are greatly appreciated! I'll try to make the next few longer.