Author's Note: I know you guys will really love the coming chapters. ;D

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.


CHAPTER FOUR


I've been told at least a thousand times
It's not worth the struggle, the hurt or the trouble

Miley Cyrus, My Heart Beats For Love


Renesmee followed Jacob into the house. She would have liked to say her feet moved with reluctance, but she walked behind him willingly, her eyes wandering over the mahogany paneling in the foyer with admiration.

"If you want to get cleaned up a bit, there are three bathrooms down here. The one through that door is the main one. The other ones adjoin to the bedrooms. Through this door here is the kitchen. Margie keeps it well stocked with non-perishable items, but I'll give her a call later and I'm sure she'll bring by some other stuff." He smiled, leading her through the large interior of the den. "She'll even whip it up into something edible, since I don't think you'd survive my cooking."

"Not much of a chef, huh?"

Jacob laughed. "I have other talents," he murmured, pointing upstairs with a smirk. "There are five bedrooms, three upstairs and two downstairs. The whole layout is pretty basic, so I don't think you'll have any problem getting around."

Renesmee shook her head. "I'm not going to familiarize myself with your house."

"Jared actually owns it, but over the years it's become a retreat for the entire family."

"I'm not family, though, am I?" she grumbled. "You and I both know why we are here, and it's not for rest and relaxation."

"Give it a break, will you?" he sighed. "If I only wanted to fuck you, we could have stayed in that parking lot."

Renesmee opened her eyes wide at his crude words, before she blinked back the sudden welling of tears. "Yes. That's my point exactly. You didn't have to bring me here. The whole friggin' world is at your fingertips. What do you want with me?"

"You still have a lot of things to learn, Nessie, if you can't figure that out for yourself."

"I know what it is. I'm your new novelty. Some little toy for you to play with."

"You cheapen yourself by saying that."

"How dare you," she gasped, taking a step closer, wanting to slap his arrogant face.

Jacob shook his head, his eyes narrowing as he took a step toward her. "How dare me? For more than a month now, I've let you lead me around in circles. I've let you play the tune because I wanted to give you time . . . space." He took another haunting step forward, his gaze frightening. "I don't know whose mistakes I'm paying for, but the cost will be settled, Nessie. I will not play these games with you any longer."

He turned stalking away, though before he reached the stairs he called over his shoulder, "Don't even think of leaving either. I will come after you, and I can guarantee that I won't be as nice as I am now."

With that, Jacob finally left the room, marching up the steps, leaving Renesmee all alone with her thoughts. For a moment, she debated about taking the keys lying on the small coffee table. She could drive herself home. It would take a while, but she'd get there. The only thing stopping her was that she seriously believed Jacob's threat. He would come after her. There wasn't a shadow of doubt in her mind. Truly, he was a man of his word. No matter how hard she tried to avoid him, she'd have to face him eventually.

Still pondering the consequences of such an action, she made her way to the bathroom Jacob had mentioned so she could wash up. She would have loved to take a shower, but since she didn't have any clothes to change into. She'd have to settle for a quick birdbath.

Finishing up, a groan of hunger rumbled through her stomach. Turning the bottom of her wrist upward so she could look at her watch, she realized that the last time she'd eaten had been hours ago. Starvation, even if a part of her did want to go on a hunger strike, wasn't acceptable.

She made her way through the swinging doors on her right, remembering Jacob said it led to the kitchen. Renesmee took a moment to admire the layout, complete with an island countertop stove, top-of-the-line appliances, and numerous mahogany cabinets. The kitchen matched the test of the house's modern rustic, homey interior, and as she searched through the refrigerator, she frowned over the numerous bottles of water. She hoped the freezer would have more to offer, but was disappointed as she stared at trays of ice cubes.

The house was beautiful, but barren didn't begin to describe the inside of the refrigerator.

Crossing her fingers, Renesmee moved on to the cabinets.

When she opened them it was as though as band of angels' sang a full-bodied chorus in her head. Before her was an array of freshly canned, homemade goods.

She grabbed the nearest one, reading aloud the hand-printed label, complete with an expiration date. "Minestrone." Pulling down jar after jar, she continued, "Beef and Vegetables. Chicken n' Dumplings. Harvest Stew." Renesmee moved on to the next cabinet. "Apples. Peaches. Cherries." There was a whole range of goods. Everything that could be canned was up in these cabinets. "She was sure of it."

The question of her hunger solved, she moved around the kitchen to find some bowls and cutlery. She decided on the chicken and heated it in the microwave. For a desert, Renesmee settled on the canned peaches.

Minutes later, full and pleasantly sated, she rinsed out the dishes before wandering through the rest of the downstairs area. She had no idea where Jacob had disappeared to upstairs, but she had no plans to go and find out either. She needed to find a phone so she could call the club and Kim, but as she searched through the numerous rooms downstairs, she couldn't locate one. Settling on the sofa, she figured she'd call from her cell when she had another quiet, Jacob-free moment.

"I see you made yourself comfortable."

Jacob's deep voice startled Renesmee, and she jumped up from her seat, her hand pressed to her chest. "Jeez. You scared me."

"Sorry, that wasn't my intention."

He sounded sincere. She almost believed him. "That's why you crept down the stairs without making any noise, right?"

"You looked so involved. I didn't want to disturb you."

Reluctantly Renesmee's gaze wandered over his masculine frame. She took in his untucked, white buttoned shirt, black jeans pants and slicked-back damp hair.

He looked like a werewolf.

"Well, you scared me," she murmured, glancing away from him. "So, now that you've gotten me here. What are you going to do with me?"

A slow grin spread across his face. "That sounds like an open invitation."

"It's not," she denied, even though her body heated from the inside out.

"Good. I don't think I could hang in any case. I just drove for six hours straight. The only thing I want is some food and some sleep."

Renesmee frowned. She wasn't supposed to be disappointed because he didn't want to have sex. What in the hell was wrong with her?

"You have enough canned goods in the kitchen to feed a small army. I don't think food is going to be a problem."

"Margaret Neri, a woman from town, comes by periodically and cleans. She also keeps the place well stocked for unexpected visits, but I need something a little more substantial than soup. There's a diner in town that serves breakfast all day," he suggested, wiggling his eyebrows at the doubtful look she gave him.

"I already ate."

"Well, there's no law that says you can't watch me eat. Plus, we need to get you some clothes."

Renesmee pinched her lips tight. "I'll make do with what I have," she grumbled, looking down at her worn sweats. A few extra items wouldn't hurt and she definitely needed some, but she'd crawl across hot coals before she indebted herself to him.

"Did you hear me giving you a choice? We are going to get something to eat and buy some clothes," Jacob paused, punctuating his command, with a casual shrug, "and that's it. So, grab your purse and let's go."

Renesmee wanted to argue, but she knew it would be futile.

Moments later, she seated next to him in his luxurious SUV, Renesmee marveled at his stamina. "Aren't you tired?"

"Yes, but now's not the time to sleep."

"So, you're forcing yourself to stay awake?"

"I'm doing what needs to be done."

Jacob's words struck her as odd. Most people didn't do what they needed. They responded to situations through habit and instinct. Choices would present themselves, but oftentimes folks traveled the easiest path, ignoring what needed to be done.

Renesmee had seen enough of that in her life to know it was true.

Jake's quick acceptance of responsibility figured highly in his statement and Renesmee filed the information away for later investigation.

She wanted to take a moment to glimpse her surroundings, but the drive to the diner was quick, taking no more than ten minutes. Jacob was so fast parking the car in a spot near the entrance she barely had a moment to notice the other vehicles. There seemed to be quite a few for so early in a morning.

Not wanting to take her purse, she reached inside, grabbed her small, pocket size wallet, and stuffed the soft leather handbag under her seat. Most of her personal identification, as well as her money and credit cards were located inside the small compacted leather. If she needed to leave quickly, she could do so comfortably, leaving behind everything else.

"How did you find this place?" she asked, opening the door to step onto the loose gravel.

"I own it."

Not at all surprised, Renesmee shook her head. "I didn't mean the diner. I meant how did you . . . or your brother find this place . . . as in to live?"

"It was a fluke really. Jared came up here to look over a resort he was thinking of buying."

Renesmee shifted her gaze to the traditional styled buildings across the street, glimpsing a lot of gourmet food stores and specialty shops. Obviously, this was one of the main thoroughfares of the town.

Even though it was early morning, patrons were already bustling and moving to and fro. Most of them looked to be tourists or California weekend travelers. A few stood near a large fountain located near a brick lined structure that resembled a court house she'd once seen pictures in an architecture magazine detailing America during the turn of the century.

The city had obviously spent a great deal of money restoring the quaint charm to this town, and Renesmee only needed one guess as to why.

"So what, you and your brother rode in here like the great white hope and saved the dying town from bankruptcy?" She didn't mean to sound so condescending, but once the words had erupted, she couldn't hold back.

Jacob slanted his eyes. "Yeah, something like that."

"I'm sure the grateful citizens threw you and your brother a ticker tape parade. Bet that made you real happy."

"Not really," he paused, "but my mom enjoyed it."

Stopping in her tracks, Renesmee sighed in exasperation. "Don't you ever get sick of controlling people? It can't be a lot of fun."

"I don't know about that . . . Having someone who will do whatever you want, whenever you want." His long fingers, cooled by the breezy wind trailed along her jaw. "It's pretty intoxicating."

A strong sense of awareness raised the delicate hairs on her arm as rampant desire tingled through her flesh. She wanted to deny it, reject the helpless feeling if she could, but as she stared into Jacob's heavy lidded eyes, the feelings were too powerful to ignore.

She took a deep breath, the fragrant fauna of her surroundings cascading through her nostrils, bringing life, death, and every other inherent offering of nature to the fore. She felt like a fly caught in an unyielding web.

"Why do you want this from me, Jacob? You know I'm not capable of giving you what you want."

"You're the only one for me, Nessie, the only soul that matches mine. Do you think I'd let that go?" As if waiting for an answer, he tilted her chin upward, holding her gaze steady. "Nothing you do, will ever make me forget that . . . nothing."

"But I can't be that person, Jacob. You already know this."

"You will," he reiterated. "You will."

A helpless entreaty caught upon her lips.

What could she say?

The man was like an earthquake determined to shake her loose.

"Jake, you want more than I can offer, more than I could possibly hope to give. Please . . . let me go."

His gaze became flinty, hard like titanium. "No," he answered implacably, opening the clean, glass doors of the diner and ushering her inside.

Renesmee wanted to say more, but the hand against her back kept pushing her forward.

Delicious smells assaulted her, freshly brewed coffee, baked bread and sweet, spicy cinnamon. Even though she wasn't hungry, her stomach responded to the thought of good food.

Renesmee spied the checkered top tables and booths decorated with numerous faux flowers. A long, brown counter stained from long years of use, ran from the entrance to the opposite wall, with four old-fashioned cake dishes spaced evenly on top, housing what looked to be homemade coffee cake.

In spite of herself, Renesmee smiled. Right before she'd left Oklahoma, she'd dined in a restaurant just like this, one filled with goodness and warmth. It was probably the only tactile, happy moment she'd ever had in the OK state. She could still remember the waitress who had served her a platter of eggs and bacon for free before she boarded the bus headed toward Los Angeles because she said that Renesmee looked like she needed it.

"Jake! What are you doing here?" A loud, feminine voice called out.

Startled, Renesmee turned and watched as a petite, gray haired woman of about fifty rushed from behind the counter, a floral print hand towel flapping from her shoulder.

Jacob stepped forward, a wide smile on his face in greeting. "Margie, you know I can't resist your cooking for long."

"Naughty boy. You'd say anything to appease an old woman."

Renesmee hoped they would continue to ignore her, but as she took a step back, attempting to blend in with the décor, Margie's piercing green stare halted her mid-stride.

She took another step back, hoping to become invisible, but . . .

"And who is this?"

Jacob moved his hand without turning his head and grabbed a hold of her waist, like he had radar in his fingertips. He pulled her forward, "Margie, this is Renesmee Cullen." Jacob inclined his head forward. "Nessie this is Margaret Neri."

Gingerly shaking the proffered hand, Renesmee vaguely noted that Margie had soft, smooth skin, almost like the combination of butter and flour.

"How do you do?" she asked, helplessly drawn to the woman's buoyant charm.

"Oh, I could be doing better, but for the time being I'm doing fine, though I have to say seeing Jake here has really brightened my day."

"You say that every time you see me, Margie. I'm starting to think it's not true," Jacob teased.

"How can you say that?" Margie threatened him with the snap of her towel. "I'm always glad when you stop by. It means you've taken a break from the hustle and bustle. Is Jared with you?"

"No, he's in Washington with his fiancée."

Her loud, excited shriek caused the other diners to turn and stare at them. "What? Jared's getting married? To who? When? Oh, my gosh!"

Renesmee flexed her fist. The thought of Kim's impending marriage brought a flood of feeling she'd rather forget about, and she pushed them to the back of her mind.

Margie kept talking a mile a minute, and somehow in between fielding endless questions, Jacob finally found a way to steer them toward an empty booth in the corner.

"Goodness. Where are my manners? Here I am jabbering away and I bet you two are hungry. Hold on and let me get you both some food."

The talkative woman bounded away before Renesmee could tell her she wasn't hungry. Sighing, she tried to scoot to the other side of the 'U' shaped booth, valiantly trying to put more than an inch between her and Jacob.

"You know, you don't have to sit so close."

"Yes, I do."

"Why?"

"Because I'm tired and might fall over. I need you to prop me up."

Renesmee snorted. "I haven't even seen you yawn."

Jacob smirked, flashing his pearly white teeth in a dashing smile. "What can I say, baby. You invigorate me."

Margie returned with two large glasses of OJ, a plate of buttered toast and a small bowl of jam.

"Jerome is already preparing you pancakes, sweetie, but I know how much you like my marmalade."

"Thanks, Margie."

"And you, dear, what can I get for you?"

Renesmee shook her head. "I'm not really hungry. I had something to eat earlier." She smiled at Margie's crestfallen expression. "One of your homemade soups actually. It was really good."

"For breakfast? No-no, that won't do. Why don't I get you a nice helping of my potato pie with some bacon and eggs?" Margie frowned. "You're not on one of those low-carb diets, are you?"

"No," Renesmee assured her.

"Good, I can't understand that myself. It's not healthy to stuff yourself full of meat."

"But I'm really not hungry."

"Nonsense. I'll go put your order in," Margie said, completely oblivious to any denials.

Renesmee felt as though she was being sucked down a drain, like someone had pulled the plug on her life. Glancing under her lashes at Jacob, sitting to her right, she knew immediately who that someone was.


Sneak-preview of the next chapter:


Jacob was like a marauder, taking whatever he wished — whenever he wished.

Renesmee jumped slightly when he slipped one long digit into her aching pussy, her restless cunt clamped around him, sucking his finger deeper inside.

Sweat beaded her brow, and she bit her lip to keep from groaning, desperately looking around the diner.

"Shush, relax. No one is watching," Jacob whispered.