A/N - big love to jkane180 and Mac214 for the beta. Also props to DoUTrustme for the pre-read. Did you know all Canadians are born with horns? It's true. We have them removed at birth.
Facebook Status: Attention Jacob Black - I just mouth-fucked your hometown hero.
"Jesus Christ, Bella. What the fuck am I supposed to tell your mother?" Charlie raged, pounding his fist against the concrete block wall.
"I'm sorry," I managed weakly, sitting on a cold bench in Forks County Jail. Everything smelled like fire - my hair, my clothes, even my skin was covered in ash. I thought fire was supposed to be cleansing. It wasn't. I felt as if the stench of burning metal would never be off of me. Out, out, damn spot! This burn on my wrist was another battle scar I'd earned today. My hands would never be clean.
"How could... I don't understand... what the fuck were you thinking?"
"Jake was with another girl," I answered honestly, because really, what other choice did I have? "He broke my heart, so I destroyed his - an eye for an eye, and all that jazz."
"Well, shit. No wonder he doesn't want to press charges. He was caught with his pants down, was he?"
"What? No! He wasn't fucking her!" My father winced at my use of the expletive.
"So how do you know he was cheating on you?" he asked, removing a heavy key chain off his belt.
"I could tell by the way he was touching her... the way he looked at her. A girl just knows. I mean, how did you know Mom was cheating on you with Phil?"
"I found them fucking in my bed."
"Oh. Ew."
"Yeah," Dad agreed. "Double ew." He unlocked the cell door and sat beside me on the bench. "Did you give the boy a chance to explain himself before you set the yard on fire?"
"I only meant to set the car on fire."
"I know, Bells. Fire spreads though. There's no grass left on the yard now." He rubbed soot and tears off my cheek and pulled a Kleenex out of his pocket so I could blow my nose. I hadn't even realized I'd been crying.
"Well, the lawn shouldn't have gotten in the way," I snuffled petulantly. "So, if Jake's not pressing charges, am I free to leave?"
"Not exactly... there are criminal charges to contend with too. Plus, I'm still waiting to hear from Billy."
"Oh, shit, Dad. I'm sorry. I wasn't even thinking about Billy." He and Dad had been friends forever. What the fuck was I thinking?
Oh, right: revenge. They say the best revenge is living well. That's bullshit. The best revenge is a bullet between the eyes.
"Dad," I said tentatively. "I'm really sorry about this. You're not going to, um..."
He looked at me expectantly when I didn't finish my sentence. "I'm not going to?"
"Send me back?"
"Do you want to go back home?" he asked carefully.
Perspective is an interesting phenomenon. Looking at my life from ten-thousand feet in the air, I knew I'd never go back to being the girl I used to be.
"My home is where you are, Dad."
-({})-
Oh my god, so orange totally wasn't my colour.
I was picking up garbage on the highway in another unseasonable ice storm. Apparently, probation was a dish best served cold. I didn't mind the work so much; it was the humiliation of the other kids knowing about what happened that got to me.
It didn't even take a full two days for the news to spread, pardon the expression, like wildfire throughout the student body of Forks High.
Alice had driven by twice already, snapping pictures of me in my government-issue orange smock and slicker. Why the fuck did we have to wear orange like federal inmates? Jeez, I was only doing a few dozen hours of measly public service. By the way the cars slowed to look at us, you'd think I had "24601" emblazoned across my back.
"Can I have my phone back?" I asked at the end of my shift. The guard on duty was vaguely familiar, but I couldn't remember his name. He nodded, giving me a look I didn't understand, and passed me my cell.
I punched in my passcode and sat on the side of the highway, waiting for my dad to pick me up. My hated truck was on blocks, and my license had been confiscated because setting fire to a car meant I could no longer be trusted by Washington State to drive one. That was stupid logic, if you asked me. But no one was asking me my opinion on much since I torched the Rabbit.
"You okay?" the guard asked, and I nodded distractedly. There were messages on my phone from Jake: five voicemails, two texts, and twelve emails. I deleted them quickly and opened my Tweetdeck to check my mentions.
The Fail Whale could have been a field of crickets for all it mattered. Without Jake, I was essentially tweeting myself. I'd blocked him.
My friends back home had all but forgotten me already. Nice.
I toyed with the idea of texting Edward, but I was far too self-destructive at the moment to trust my fingers. Instead, I pulled a smoke out of my purse and stared at it, trying to remember what I was supposed to do next. I must have misplaced my lighter while committing arson.
"Bella?" The guard knelt down beside me and lit my smoke.
"Yeah?"
"Do you remember me?"
"Sort of... are you a friend of Charlie's?"
"Yeah," he confirmed, lighting a cigarette of his own. "And Billy's. My name's Sam."
"Right. Hey, Sam." I had a vague memory of him from my summers in Forks. Dad and Billy would buy bait from him and some of the other teenagers on the rez. I remembered Jake and his friends pathetically tried to emulate him like little whelps.
"So, Jake is kind of going ballistic," he mentioned absently, taking a drag off his cigarette.
"Shut the fuck up. Jake's an asshole." I watched the paper ignite in a slow burn, becoming randomly entranced by the sparks as they curled into ash. Shit, maybe I was becoming a pyromaniac.
"Bella, you gotta give the guy a chance to explain himself. The kid's torn up over what happened."
"I didn't realize you guys were friends," I said bitterly.
"Yeah, well... I watch out for the younger guys."
"How old are you, Sam?" I asked suddenly, remembering him being so much older than Jake and I when we were kids.
"Twenty-one," he said proudly.
"Can you give me a ride home? I think Charlie forgot about me," I lied, taking a closer look at his body. Something ugly and bitter twisted in my gut as I examined the zipper of his jeans and the way the fly strained at the crotch as he shifted on the curb.
"Well, sure." He offered me his hand, and we both stood up. His truck was parked a few feet away, but as I walked slowly, concocting a most terrible plan, the distance felt like miles.
"So why exactly are you championing him? He cheated on me, and I blew up his car. End of story." Sam unlocked the truck with his remote, and the door separated from the chassis easily when I opened it. Instantly, I was jealous of his non-rusted vehicle. Then again, some of us didn't have any wheels to speak of.
"Bella, despite what you did to his car, he cares about you a lot."
"How do you know?"
"He's been pumping me for information on you ever since I told him you were on my refuse shift," he explained, wrenching the gearshift into reverse.
"Great," I mumbled, feeling hot tears prick at my eyes. I steeled myself against a breakdown, taking deep breaths and counting by twos. It was an exercise Dr. Banner had taught me to distract myself during a panic attack.
"He only wants to talk to you, Bella. You owe him that." I noticed he was getting on the 101 South, and I panicked.
"What the fuck, Sam? Where are you taking me?"
"La Push," he said.
"You're kidnapping me?"
"I'm not!" He had the audacity to look offended. I tried to grab the wheel, but he removed my hand easily and held it in his. "Calm down, okay? Just let him explain himself..."
"Pull over, Sam. I need to tell you something very serious."
"Tell me while I'm driving."
"I can't," I said and promptly burst into tears.
"Aw, shit, Bella. Please don't cry?" He patted my shoulder awkwardly. "We're almost there. Jake's not mad at you. Hell, Billy's not even that pissed off."
"P-Please... it's not about Jake." I hiccupped through my tears and kept pleading until Sam relented. He threw a hurried glance at me, checked his blind spot, and carefully veered off onto the soft shoulder.
When the parking brake was finally up, he turned to me and asked, "What's so serious?"
I wiped the tears out of my eyes and undid my seatbelt. "How long has it been since you got laid?" My voice was no longer shaking as I asked this. "I mean, really fucked, Sam, by a sweet, tight pussy."
"W-What?" he stuttered.
"I'm going to fuck you," I explained, reaching over him to pull the lever adjacent to his seat. The chair reclined back, and he let out a surprised grunt.
"No," he said weakly. "What? No..."
"Why not?" I asked, placing my hand on his firm thigh. His quad flexed automatically under my touch. "Don't you want to fuck me?"
"No," he said quickly.
"Really? Because your dick seems to like me." My hand skittered up his leg and rested on his warm bulge.
"Don't," he said but made no move to push me away.
"Don't? Why not?" I rubbed him through his jeans and leaned forward so I could lift the hem of his shirt with my teeth.
"Oh, fuck," he groaned. I licked the line of his navel, stopping at the button of his fly.
"Should I stop?"
"Yes... no... I don't know."
I took that as an invitation into his pants but asked again, "So, you don't want a blowjob, then?"
"Oh, fuck. Bella, I don't think..."
"Yeah, don't think. Just feel," I encouraged him, but I was talking to myself too. "Can I suck your cock? I think it'll make me feel better." I really, really wanted to, but for the life of me, I didn't understand why.
"How old are you?" he asked, cupping the back of my head in his palm.
"Eighteen," I assured him, even though technically my birthday wasn't for another few days.
"Alright."
"Alright, what?" I breathed against his stomach, watching his abs ripple reflexively.
"Suck my cock... please. I mean, if you want to." There was a strange mix of desperation and indecision in his voice. His eyes were huge, begging me to continue and pleading with me to stop all at once.
Desire won over morality as he urged my head down, holding it in place at his fly as if he wasn't sure what to do next. Instinct took over. In a sudden flurry of activity, I lowered his zipper while he lifted his hips off the seat and shimmied his pants down. His dick strained against his underwear, and there was a wet spot on the material I rubbed my thumb over lightly. I was rewarded with a throaty moan, and I dipped my head down flat against his crotch to kiss his tip as it popped through the slit in his boxers.
"Shit... oh, fuck... please suck me?" he begged, lowering his hand from my head to my breast.
A strangled moan tore through me. I parted my lips and sucked on the head of his cock for a moment before drawing him further over my tongue and tightening my lips. When I felt him at my throat, I drew back up along his shaft, sucking and licking while he throbbed in my mouth. He left one hand on my tit, tangling the other into my hair, urging me back down and up, and down again. It seemed he wanted to set a faster pace than I had initiated.
Eager beaver, I smirked to myself and fisted the base of his cock. He bucked and swore, and I cried out, cupping his balls with my free hand.
"Bella... slow down, sweetheart. I'm gonna come." He tried to hold my head in place, but I ignored him, pumping my hand furiously up his shaft while sucking on his cockhead. His balls became tight under my fingers, and I quickly moved my face away, helping him ride out his ejaculation with my hand.
"Fuck," he wheezed out and squeezed his eyes shut. There was so much jizz. Wow, he must not whack off a lot, I mused, pumping him a few more times.
"All done?" I asked, wiping my hands off on his pants. He nodded in response, and I crawled back into my seat.
We were both silent for several minutes before he finally spoke.
"Do you want me to make you come?" he asked awkwardly. "I could go down on you if you want."
"I don't come," I snapped.
"Oh." He looked ahead and fidgeted, as if uncertain of what to do next.
"I think I'm going to call a friend to pick me up."
"I'll take you home," he said miserably. "I'm so sorry, Bella. I- I took advantage of you."
"Oh my god, shut the fuck up. You didn't." I grabbed my phone and unlocked it. "I took advantage of you."
"You're so hurt by Jake... I shouldn't have let you-"
"You were a goner, Sam, as soon as I figured out who you were."
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"Exacting my pound of flesh."
The car was ashes, but it didn't feel like enough. An eye for an eye was great in theory, but what was I supposed to do when my soul was destroyed. What body part could I take in trade?
"I don't understand."
"Yeah, that's because I'm being cryptic. Thanks for the ride, but this is where I get off." A hot thrill shot through me, as if my misery was brought to orgasm.
"Are you texting your father to pick you up?"
"No," I said smugly. "I'm updating my Facebook status."
A/N - I know, I know. You wanted Sex-Hair and I gave you Sam. Don't blame me; my outline made me do it. Stay with me?
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