The next day, I'm feeling… well, better. I guess.
Let's just say that when the fucker hits, the fucker hits heavy.
Not as well as my father, but… well, we can't all be Police Chief's, can we?
"How're you feeling?" Edward asks, coming back to lie down next to me.
I moan. "Ugh. Fine, I guess. The bastard can hit, can't he?"
He smiles softly, but there's still anger there. "I could kill him," he says, just as softly.
I smile. "Don't bother… he isn't worth it; besides… I want him gone out of our lives, not you."
He smiles and kisses my nose, making me giggle.
"Time for talk later, missy," he says and I sigh as he lays over me.
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