Ok, FF being funky again tonight. Typed some really nice author notes here and it refused to save any of them. So let's try again.

Thank you to everyone reading and reviewing. I really do appreciate you sticking with me and continuing to read and review. And, if you like it, tell your friends. Everyone's welcome.

Business: Twilight, it's characters and it's situations are the property of the fertile imagination of Stephenie Meyer. If I had half the imagination and talent she has, do you think I'd be slaving away in corporate accounting?

Please read and enjoy, and as always, please review and let me know what you think!

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Chapter 20: The KKK Took My Baby Away

She sat at the kitchen table, head bowed, hands clutching the half empty cup of coffee that she stared blindly into. Her cell phone sat on the table next to her, plugged in and almost recharged, but the only call she'd gotten in the last twenty four hours had been from Jessica and Angela, asking if she wanted to hit Port Angeles with them on Black Friday. Of course she'd declined. She needed to stay in Forks for her own kind of Black Friday. For when Edward called. And she was certain Edward would call. She just didn't know when.

She heard Charlie clomping down the steps in his heavy work boots and sat up, trying hard not to look like she'd spent most of the night lying in her bed, crying. But who was she even trying to kid? Not herself, and certainly not Charlie. Her red, puffy eyes were a dead give away. And even without that, Charlie, well, he was pretty astute.

"Hey, Bells," Charlie draped his jacket over the back of the kitchen chair. "You're up early."

She tried to smile. "I made coffee," she avoided the comment as she got up and poured a cup for her father.

He stared after her for a moment, hands on his hips.

"Hey, I have an idea," he sat down as she place the cup in front of him. "Why don't I play hooky from work today and we can go into Port Angeles. You know, pick up a tree and decorate and all that ho ho ho kinda crap?"

She shook her head. "I can't leave. Edward's going to call and I need to be here for him, Charlie."

Her father sighed. "Bells, he…it…that call might not come today."

"Still, I need to be close by him when it does come."

Charlie ran his hand through his short cropped black hair. "Listen, why don't we go to the diner then for breakfast?"

"You need to go to work, Charlie Swan," she took a sip of her coffee. "That's what the good people of Forks pay you for."

"I can go in a little late. I am the boss, you know," he grinned at her and she smiled. Just a little bit.

"I'm ok, Charlie. You don't have to do this."

"Of course I do, Bells.

"Really, it's ok."

"No, it's not. You're hurting. And I'm your father. I'm here for you, Bells. I want to be here for you," he reached out and took her hand in his. "Let me buy you breakfast. It won't take that long, and I'll go to work right after so I'm out of your hair for the rest of the day, and you can sit here staring at that phone, willing it to ring, OK?"

She looked up at him, burning eyes brimming with more tears. "But…what if he calls while I'm gone?"

"You'll have your phone with you," he motioned to the phone sitting on the table. "You know he never calls the house phone. And I promise, if we're still at the diner when he calls, we'll leave right then and there and I'll drop you right at the house myself," he grinned at her. "I won't even stop for another sip of coffee. Just up and out!"

She looked at her father with appreciation. He was so loyal. Like a Boy Scout. Or a golden retriever. Good old reliable Charlie Swan. The Pollyanna to end all Pollyanna's.

"The solution to the worlds problems are all in that diner for you, aren't they?"

His moustache twitched as he grinned. "It's a magical place, Bells. Filled with pancakes and Belgian waffles. Sausages the size of your head! And Bacon! Bacon! Bacon!"

She smiled despite herself, rolling her eyes at her father. "Ok, I know meat makes you happy, you cave man, so we'll go to breakfast at your precious diner. Just…just let me go clean up a bit."

"You go do that. I'll sit here and finish my coffee while you do."

"Hey," she stopped in the doorway, turning to look at him. "Charlie?"

"Yeah?" He turned his head toward her.

"Whose coffee is better? Mine or that diner?"

"Yours, of course," he grinned.

"You're not lying, are you?" She looked at him warily.

"Hell no! You brew an awesome pot of joe, my dear," he lifted his mug to his lips, smiling.

"You're not just trying to make me feel better, are you?"

"Nope. I wouldn't say it if it weren't true. We are talking about coffee here, and you know how serious we cops are about our coffee. You brew a mean cup of coffee, Bells."

She smiled at him.

"It's genetic you know. Trait comes from the father's side," he grinned widely at her.

"You…Charlie, what am I going to do with you?" She stood with her hands on her hips for a moment, before shuffling back into the kitchen and, taking him by surprise, throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly. "Worse yet, what would I do without you?"

He hugged her back tightly. "Well, for starters you would have to pay for your own damn breakfast," he smiled. "Now go get ready, because I'm hungry!"

The diner brought relative normalcy to Bella's morning. It bustled with people out and about, busy worrying about the first official day of the Christmas season. So much to do, so little time to do it in. Shopping, decorating, baking and general merriment. For a brief moment while sitting in their little booth, eating their breakfast, she fell into the whole spirit of the season herself. Fell into the Christmas carols playing in the diner. Fell into the sparkling garlands that had gone up overnight in the place. Fell into the thoughts of all she had to do to get ready. For a short time, issues weren't an issue.

Her phone sat on the table next to her as she nibbled on a short stack of banana pancakes. She didn't really think she was very hungry, but as with the night before, she surprised herself at how much she really ate.

"We have to stop coming here," she managed in between bites.

"Why's that?"

"I'm going to get like a heifer," she took a sip of orange juice.

"You're not going to get like a heifer," Charlie laughed. He knew the moment he left her she'd lapse back into her little Edward induced funk, but for now, he was happy to see her enjoying herself.

"I am! Everything here is like, carb based."

"Well, you don't eat meat. What else can you have?"

"Well, vegetables."

"You had vegetables last night."

"Yeah, but on a bed of rice."

"So, who told you to eat all the rice?" he smiled under his moustache.

"My stomach," she sighed, her face pinching in pain just a little bit at the memory of the night before. "I was hungry and it was good."

"Bells, just…eat. It's ok to eat right now. You don't do it all the time."

"Charlie," she looked up at him. "Do you think he'll call?"

Charlie saw her pain, and felt it right along with his only child. "He'll call, Bells. Edward, he…he just needs to sort some things out for himself right now."

"But…but I can help him."

"Bells," once again he reached across the table and took her hand in his. "This is something very personal. If he doesn't call, it just means that Edward needs a little space right now until he gets answers to his questions," he shook his head. "And right now, that kid's probably got a heap of questions."

"I want to be there for him," tears quietly slid down her face. She'd tossed on a pair of black leggings with her Doc Martens and a big Arizona Diamondback's sweatshirt she'd had for centuries. Her hair was pulled back in a pony tail and she wore no makeup. She didn't even care if anyone saw her like this. The only thing she cared about, the only thing important to her right at this moment, was Edward. She had so many unanswered questions for him, and yet, she couldn't fathom how he had to feel, not knowing whether or not Rosalie had been telling the truth or just spinning another outlandish tale.

"You're right where he needs you to be right now," Charlie squeezed her soft, tiny hand with his big, rough one. "When that changes, trust me, he'll let you know."

As if on cue, the Kings of Leon's Sex on Fire started playing from her phone.

Edward's ringtone.

She couldn't get her hand on the phone to flip it open fast enough, and the tension on her face as she lifted the phone to her ear made Charlie wince in pain. He motioned to the waitress for the check and wiped his mouth with his napkin.

"Edward," her relieved voice sighed into the receiver, then she stiffened. "Oh, Dr. Cullen…" her voice trailed off.

Charlie watched the different expressions that crossed his daughters' face as she listened to whatever Carlisle was saying to her. Relief. Confusion. Anger. Frustration. The waitress handed him the check and he held on to it absently.

"But, Dr. Cullen, I want to be with him…no…no…I understand," she cast her eyes downward and closed them slowly, new tears spilling from them. "Thank you, sir," she pulled the phone away from her ear and reached across the table, handing the phone to her father. "He wants to talk to you for a minute."

Surprised, Charlie took the phone from her. "Carlisle, what can I do for you?" Now it was her turn to watch as her father listened to the doctor, nodding here and there as he did. "Well, I'll probably be there in about half an hour, so why don't you meet me there then?" He listened, then nodded again. "Ok, will do," and he flipped the phone shut, handing it back to Bella.

"What did he want," her voice was shaky.

"He just wants to ask me some questions. Probably about Rose and Big Cullen," Charlie slid out of the booth. "I wouldn't worry about it." Charlie tossed a few singles onto the table.

"Did he say anything about Edward to you?" She shivered as she pulled her coat on and buttoned it up. It wouldn't keep her warm. The chill she felt came from deep within her soul. It was the absence of Edward that made her so cold.

Charlie nodded, walking over to the cashier with her close behind him. "He said for you not to worry. He's just in no condition to see you right now."

"But what does that even mean?" Charlie took his changed from the cashier and held the door open for Bella to go out first.

"It means he's not in a good place, Bells. Maybe from the sedation. Maybe he feels ill from it. Maybe he's still really upset with Rosale. Maybe he's upset with his father for not letting him rip her head off when he wanted to."

"Did he say he wasn't in any condition to see me? Or that he wasn't in the mood to see me?" She slid into the passenger's side of the Police cruiser.

"He said he's not in any condition," Charlie slid behind the wheel. "Really, Bells. Stop reading stuff into things. Edward was heavily sedated yesterday. He's not going to be turning cartwheels and skipping through meadows today," he pulled the cruiser out of the parking lot and onto the main drag of now empty downtown Forks. Most everyone had left town, either for the Thanksgiving weekend, or to go shopping in Port Angeles and Seattle.

"He told me that Edward was ok, but couldn't talk to me right now," she looked down at her hands in her lap. "You think he was lying?"

"No, I think he was being honest. Why would he call just to lie to you?"

"I don't know! Charlie, I'm so scared right now!"

"Scared of what?" Charlie's voice was soft and even.

"I'm scared that what Rosalie said was true," she said softly. And, even softer, she said "What if it is and he goes back to her?"

"You can't let 'what ifs' run your life, Bells," Charlie turned into their short driveway, her truck parked at the top. "What ifs are never good. Deal with the facts. And the fact here is that Edward loves you very much."

She opened the door and got out. A light mist was falling, but she didn't bother pulling her hood up.

Charlie leaned over toward the open door. "You want me to come in with you?"

"I'm fine," she closed the door and headed up the front path. She fumbled with her key in the door before opening it and slipping inside, slamming it shut behind her.

She watched him pull out of the driveway and head back into town from the living room window. Once he was out of sight, she ran up to her bedroom, grabbing her bag and her keys, and headed out to her truck. Carlisle would be leaving the house right about now, no doubt, to get to the police station to talk to Charlie. She was sure Esme wouldn't keep her from Edward. Esme was a woman. A mother. Esme would understand. Esme would let her see Edward, regardless of what Dr. Cullen thought.

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Carlisle Cullen walked out the kitchen door and headed toward the garage, feeling the angry glare before he even saw it.

"Edward, you should get inside. It's cold and wet out here," he said as he approached the small porch where Edward sat smoking a cigarette, plaid blanket pulled tightly around him.

"Gee, thanks for the concern, Dad." He lifted a bottle of beer that sat between his feet to his lips and took a long pull from it, oblivious to the fact that the light mist was turning into a heavier, steadier fall of rain.

Carlisle took his son in. He was wearing the striped pajamas that Esme had laid out for him once she finally got him into the shower earlier in the morning, with a plaid flannel shirt over top. The blanket was from his bed, and he wrapped himself in it against the cold. For some odd reason, he'd chosen to put on his black dress shoes to wear out here, sitting in the rain, washing his cigarette down with a beer.

"Edward," Carlisle took a deep breath, but shook his head, unwilling to continue. It had been a hard night for everyone, and harder still for Edward. It had been an even harder morning for them all once the sedation wore off and the questions began. It was hardest on Esme and Carlisle, however, and Carlisle had done his level best to ensure that only he became caught in Edward's cross hairs.

"I need to go into town. I'll be back in a little while," Carlisle headed toward the black Mercedes.

"Another secret you're not sharing with me, Dad?"

He stopped, feeling his back stiffening. He couldn't blame his son, of course. And he deserved this. Deserved Edward's ire. Deserved to lose his trust.

He turned, facing his son. Edward's bronze hair was in wild disarray as his green eyes flashed with anger at him. The dark purple crescents under his eyes that Carlisle knew he was responsible for gave him a sad, pathetic look. And Carlisle's heart went out to his son, in more ways than the boy would ever know.

"I don't know how else to tell you how sorry I am, Edward," his voice was low, sincere.

"I don't know how to make this up to you, but I'm going to try."

"So you say," Edward took a drag on the stub of cigarette between his fingers and held the smoke in for a second, feeling the calm overtake him. He'd missed his cigarettes. "Personally, I think you're just sorry that you got caught in your web of deceit. You don't know how to make it up to me because it was never intended for me to find out in the first place, was it?"

"Edward…"

"This is my life," Edward was shouting now. "How dare you take it away from me! You aren't even my father! You're nothing to me! How dare you," he shook his head, and laughed a little. "But, it's all for my own good, of course. Father knows best."

He snuffed the remains of the cigarette into the sand bucket and put the nearly empty bottle of beer back down on the step between his feet. He sighed heavily and buried his face in his hands.

Carlisle took in the tortured, lifeless creature that was the shell of his son, and swallowed down the lump that formed in his throat. "I can only hope that some day you will understand, Edward. Understand the choices I made, and the reasons I made them. Understand that I did what I did out of love for you."

"I can't," Edward murmured into his hands. "I can't, because you made my decisions for me, without me even knowing," he shook his head, pulling his hands away. He didn't look up at his father, instead staring blindly at his own feet. "I don't think I can ever forgive you for that, Carlisle."

It hurt, so much more than any of the other words Edward had hurled at him all morning. Hurt him more than being torn flesh from bone would hurt, he knew. Edward had never, in all the years he'd lived with them, ever called him Carlisle to his face. Until now.

Not knowing what to say, Carlisle nodded his head and continued into the garage numbly, while Edward sat motionless on his smoking step, jaw slack, mouth slightly open, eyes unseeing. Mind somewhere far off in the past.

Carlisle pulled down the winding driveway quickly, trying to focus on the road ahead of him instead of how deeply he had hurt his beloved Edward.

He deserved it, deserved every harsh word Edward had for him. Deserved the anger that Edward was now directing at him. He'd successfully deflected all of the blame onto him, knowing full well that being rejected by Edward would surely kill his wife, and possibly kill Edward as well. So he'd sat there, insisting that he'd been responsible for it all, taking full on blame for everything and taking every epithet, every curse, every ounce of venom that Edward spewed at him. He absorbed it all, hoping it would assuage his guilt. But, it had not. Edward was right. Every angry word he had said was right. Carlisle was indeed a coward. A son of a bitch. A bastard. Who did he think he was? Well, while he didn't know who he thought he was, he knew damn well who he wasn't. He wasn't Edward's father. At least, he wasn't anymore.

He'd always thought of himself as a good father. A loving father. A caring father. He thought back to that first night that Edward stayed with them. How Esme had sat up all night, holding the frightened child, her frightened child, as he slept. And how Carlisle had spent the night in the rocking chair in the room, keeping watch. How many nights had he spent in that chair, watching his son with wonder as he slept? He'd lost count ages ago. So many of the truly joyous moments of his life revolved around his wife and his children, Edward in particular. Edward was, after all, their first. This beautiful, wild haired, happy, perfect cherub of a child. The child who's emerald eyes would dance with joy every time Carlisle came home from work. The child who'd turned a happy couple into a happy family. The child whose life he had inadvertently ruined by trying to protect him.

He turned onto the narrow country road and gunned the engine of the Mercedes, watching as the trees along the side of the road turned into nothing more than a green and brown blur. The speed was liberating and for a moment, exhilarating. He roared past a loud, rusty vehicle as it plodded along slowly in the opposite direction. Poor bastard would probably never know the thrill of the speed that Carlisle was traveling at. Carlisle floored the gas pedal and let the Mercedes do what came naturally to it.

Bella rang the doorbell twice quickly, then thumped her fist on the pristine white door of the Cullen house. Impatiently, she rang the bell again.

"Come on! I know you're all home!" She pushed the bell again.

The door opened slightly, and she could see Alice's dark wide eye peering out at her.

"This isn't a good time, Bella."

"Alice, let me in!"

"He's not ready to see you. That's why he hasn't called you yet. He's not in a good place, Bella."

"Alice Cullen, if you don't open this fucking door and let me in right now, I'm going to just shove my way in! And don't think I won't do it, because I will!" She felt like the big, bad wolf threatening to huff and puff and blow the little piggie's house right down.

Alice opened the door, but stood between Bella and entrance into the front hall.

"Edward is not in a good place right now," she repeated more firmly.

"Alice, I want to see my boyfriend," Bella was on the verge of frantic.

"Bella, I'm sorry, but this is for your own good. You don't want to see him like this," Alice crossed her arms across her flat chest.

"Is he still sedated?"

"No, he's quite awake. He looks like the morning after the night before, and he's in a foul, horrible mood," she sighed. "You shouldn't see him like this. He shouldn't see you like this."

"Shouldn't we judge that for ourselves, Alice?"

"I'm only trying to do what's best for my brother, Bella. And for you too."

"I love him, Alice. Regardless."

Alice looked down, feeling guilty. She knew that in the same situation, if someone stood between her and a troubled Jasper, she would be acting just like Bella was.

She sighed. "OK, but if he refuses to see you, just remember it's your own fault." She stepped aside and let Bella cross the threshold.

Jasper met her, standing in the middle of the hallway.

"Hello, Bella," he smiled at her. "Why don't you have a seat in the living room? I'll go see if Edward wants some company."

She moved cautiously into the pristine room. There were no signs of the trays of appetizers and makeshift bar today. In fact, it looked like a team of maintenance people had gone through the room vacuuming, dusting, straightening and waxing. She took a seat in the plush chair that Alice and Jasper had been sitting on the day before.

"Edward's outside having a cigarette, Jasper," Esme walked into the room slowly from the kitchen. While she was dressed neatly, in brown slacks and a cream silk blouse, Bella could see the dark circles under her eyes, along with a weariness that didn't come from lack of sleep.

"I'll go let him know that Bella is here," Jasper dutifully exited the room, leaving the women alone.

"Please don't be upset or disappointed if Edward refuses to see you, Bella," Esme's voice was soft. "He's not exactly in a very good frame of mind today," she sank down slowly onto the ottoman of a wide, tufted chair across the coffee table from where Bella sat, Alice propping herself up on the arm of the chair behind her mother defensively.

"I just had to see for myself if he was ok, Mrs. Cullen."

"Very…admirable, Bella," Esme smiled a tight, stressed smile. "I can assure you we are taking very good care of him, dear."

"I don't doubt that you are," Bella returned the smile. "But after yesterday, I need to see him. I need for him to see me. To see that I'm still here for him. Regardless."

"That's very sweet of you, to think of our Edward that way," Esme's smile was forced.

The kitchen door slammed loudly, and both Esme and Alice jumped.

Edward came flying into the room, damp blanket still wrapped tightly around him. He moved swiftly over to where Bella sat stunned and motionless, standing over her as he glared down at her.

"Why are you here? Who called you," he demanded through clenched teeth.

She instinctively cringed away from him. "No one. I came when I didn't hear from you to see how you were doing."

"Bullshit. Carlisle called you and you know it. Stop fucking lying to me!" He stomped over to the sofa and flopped down on the edge. "I swear to God you people will never learn to mind your own fucking business, will you?" Anger flared from his glowing green eyes. "You don't really care how much damage you inflict, who gets hurt or who gets destroyed, do you?" His stubbled jaw was clenched tightly, the muscles in his neck popping.

Esme looked down at the floor, noting to herself that the rug needed to be shampooed. She wanted to think of anything other than how wounded her child was, and by her own hand at that.

"I didn't come here to upset you, Edward, but it looks like that's just what I've done. I'll leave now," Bella began to get up from her chair, but Edward stopped her.

"Well, you're already here, now aren't you," he hissed. "So, the damage is already done," everyone appeared to be a target for him, Bella included, and she could only imagine what had set him off into such an angry frenzy.

"I…I'm sorry, Edward. I didn't mean to do…uh…damage…," she looked down at her hands, nervously twisting them in her lap as her face burned red.

"It's better this way," he sighed, running a long, pale hand through his wild copper hair.

"I just wanted you to know that I…that I'm here for you. Regardless, I'm here," she looked up at him through her lashes. This wasn't her Edward. This was some wild eyed, pale, empty vessel that looked like Edward. A shadow of her Edward.

"Listen, Bella…about that…" his voice trailed off, and he closed his eyes for a moment, clearing his throat, trying to find the right tone. "I…I don't want you to be there for me."

She looked up at him with shocked eyes as the color drained from her face, leaving her paler than before. "What did you say?"

"I said I don't want you to be there for me," he sighed and ran his hand through his hair again. "Truth is, you're no good for me, Bella," he shook his head. "You never were."

"Edward...I…I don't understand," she stammered. "What do you mean that I'm no good for you?" Her jaw hung slack as her stomach clenched into knots that were hell bent on doing flips in their confined little space. She felt a wave of nausea pass over her.

"I mean that, when I'm with you, I think…I think that I'm a good person. And I'm not," his voice had grown cool. "I'm not really the person I pretend to be when I'm with you," he looked down, closing his eyes and swallowing hard. "I'm sorry, Bella, but it's better this way."

"That's not true," she breathed. "Edward, that's just not true!" She slid off the chair, falling to her knees in front of him. "You are a good person, Edward! You're the best person I know!"

"I'm not," he shook his head. "It was all an act. A lie," he shot a look at his mother. "We Cullens are nothing if not good liars, right, Mom?" His mother turned her head, looking away from him.

"No, Edward. That's not true," her throat had gone dry and she could barely squeak out the words.

"On top of that, there's this other issue I'm dealing with right now, and it wouldn't be fair to continue to string you along," he closed his eyes, swallowing hard again.

"You…you don't even know if what Rosalie said is true…" her thin voice trailed off.

"Regardless, it's better this way."

"Edward, you don't mean this. We can get through this. We can get through this together," she shuffled on her knees so that she was leaning right up against his legs, reaching for his hands. She half expected him to recoil from her touch, but he didn't. "We can get through anything as long as we're together." She laced her fingers through his.

Edward held steadfast, ignoring her pleas. "I'll go to see Mrs. Cope in the office on Monday. Try to get my biology class changed," he avoided looking at her, instead staring down at the floor. "If not, I'll explain to Mr. Banner that we're no longer together, and request a different lab partner," he swallowed again, closing his eyes. "A clean break would be best." He untwisted his fingers from hers.

"Edward," her voice was a wispy breath. "Are you…are you breaking up with me?" She couldn't help it. Her words strangled in her dry throat as tears sprang from her eyes.

"Yeah," he looked at her, his voice matching his ice cold green eyes. "I am."

The floor slipped out from beneath her and she was falling. Falling. Falling into oblivion. Her world spiraled out of control while he sat there, regarding her coldly, like one would regard gum on the sole of a new designer shoe.

"You don't mean that," she breathed.

Angry green eyes met hurt chocolate eyes. If he was moved by what he saw playing out in her big brown eyes, she couldn't tell. "Yeah, I do." He didn't even flinch when he whispered it. Instead, he closed his eyes again and turned his head away from her.

She swallowed once, trying to stop her free fall. Trying to right herself. Regain her composure. Her dignity. She wouldn't beg. No. She would never beg.

Instead, she backed away slightly from him, and stood up.

"Ok, fine. If that's what you want," she managed to croak out of her parched throat.

"It is," he kept his eyes downcast, half closed.

"Then, that's what you'll have, Edward."

She turned and walked from the room, head held high. She didn't pause to look at Alice or Esme, but she heard Alice sniffle as she walked past her and she knew she was crying. She knew if she stopped or looked at her, she'd burst into tears, and that was the last thing she wanted. The last thing she wanted was to give him the satisfaction of knowing he'd hurt her as deeply as he had. She knew he was hurting, and he was lashing out, but he'd spoken to her in such a hateful way that what he said had to be true. She wondered how he'd managed to keep his masquerade up as long as he had, hating her so much. No wonder he never wanted me, she cried silently to herself.

She managed to hold it together until she got into her truck, slamming the door hard behind her. That was when her world fell apart. Angry, hurt sobs burst forth from her very soul, wracking her small, numb body. Tears flowed freely, blurring her vision as they mirrored the rain falling on the windshield. Her small hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, as though her very life depended on her holding on tight as possible.

The door of the truck cab pulled open.

"Edward," she cried, turning expectantly toward the open door.

"Slide over, Bella," Alice stood in the light rain, blue oxford blouse wet and stuck to her tiny frame. How long had she been standing there?

"Alice," she sobbed, sliding across to the passenger's seat of the old truck. "W-what are you d-doing?"

"You think I'm going to let you drive home in this condition?" Alice turned the key in the ignition and the old truck roared to life noisily.

"Alice, I-I'm s-sorry," she sobbed. "I'm so, so s-sorry I came here. Pl-please tell him that! Please tell him I didn't mean to. I didn't mean to cause any damage!" It all came out in a rush of words and sobs.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Bella," Alice's voice was soft. Her face was wet from the rain and droplets formed on the tips of her spiky wet bangs, dropping off and dripping down her face like sad, fat tears. "I told you he wasn't in a good place."

"I upset him. I made him mad. I shouldn't have come," her voice was frantic.

"You didn't make him mad, Bella. He was already mad," Alice stared ahead as she shifted the truck into drive and began to turn it around in the driveway.

"N-n-no," she hiccupped. "He was so angry with me!" She curled up against the door, pulling her coat tightly around herself. "He's so, so angry with me for not waiting for his call."

"He's not mad at you, Bella," she repeated, navigating the ancient truck slowly down the narrow country road.

"He broke up with me," she wrapped her arms around her shivering body tightly. "He hates me."

"He doesn't hate you," Alice's voice was so calm that it amazed Bella. How could she do that after what had happened in the Cullen living room?

They drove through the empty center of town. Most of the residents had gone off for the long weekend. Maybe they were off on Thanksgiving skiing trips or had gone into the city to shop or maybe they were just over the river and through the woods. The truck stopped at a red light. No other cars were on the desolate, wet road.

"He hates me. He…he left me," fresh tears stung as they flowed from her already sore eyes.

"He doesn't hate you. He just wants someone else to hurt as much as he does right now. You were an easy target," the light turned green and the truck slowly rolled through the town, turning off onto the street the Swan's lived on. "It was a cheap shot on his part."

Alice pulled into the driveway.

"How are you going to get home, Alice?"

"Jazz should be here any minute to get me," she smiled at her. It was a shy but sincere smile. "We couldn't let you come home alone. I know Charlie's at the station. We can stay with you if you want."

"You…you've done more than I could ask for, Alice," she wiped her wet, red eyes with the backs of her hands. "I don't deserve it."

"Bella," Alice reached across the seat and took her hand. "I know it's probably hard to believe, but I consider you my sister."

Bella snorted. "That's kind of not going to happen," she sniffled.

"Bella, Edward is very, very upset. Very angry," Alice laced her tiny fingers into Bella's. "He…he's not thinking very clearly right now."

"From the sedatives?"

"No, from…from other things."

"What other things?"

Alice shook her head, tiny droplets of water spattering from her hair. "It's not my place to tell you. He has to do that himself."

"Alice, he just dumped me," Bella shook her head, looking down. "He dumped me," her voice was a little whine.

"Bella, I told you," she opened the car door and stepped out into the rain once more. "He's not in his right mind."

Bella got out and followed Alice up the front steps of her house.

"I don't understand what you're talking about, Alice," she unlocked the door, letting the two of them into the dry warmth of the house.

"He's angry. He's upset. He's, well, he's cutting off his own nose to spite his face," Alice shook her head. "It's not for me to tell you. He has to do that. He will do that. In his own time."

"I doubt it. You heard what he said." She took off her wet coat, draping it over the banister to dry. "Alice, look at you. You're soaked."

"I'm ok," she wrapped her arms around herself, feeling the damp chill for the first time.

"Let me at least get you a towel to dry off with," Bella clomped up the stairs, her wet sneakers squeaking on the wood as Jasper knocked on the door.

"It's just Jazz," Alice called up the stairs as she opened the door, letting her love in. "Hey, why are you so dry and I'm drenched?"

"Because I had the good sense to get into the car, instead of standing outside of it for ten minutes," he smirked and planted a kiss on her damp cheek.

"She needed to cry a little bit, Jazz. She needed to cry a little bit alone."

"Think he'll come to his senses soon?" He sat down on the bottom step as Bella stepped around him holding towels for Alice.

"Thanks, Bella," she took the fluffy white towel and began to dry herself off. "And he better come to his senses really soon. I'd hate to have to hit him."

"You…you're really being nice," Bella flopped down next to Jasper. "But, it's ok. If he doesn't want to see me anymore, well, that's his prerogative," she closed her eyes. "No one ever said it was forever."

Across town, Dr. Carlisle Cullen stepped into the office of the Chief of Police and closed the door behind him. His usually boyish face showed his age.

"Carlisle," Charlie Swan stood up, extending his hand.

"Charlie," Carlisle shook firmly.

"Please, sit down."

"Thank you," the refined doctor sat in the chair in front of Charlie's desk, crossing his right leg over his left knee.

"So, you said you needed a favor," Charlie spun a pencil between two fingers as he leaned back in his chair.

"Indeed, I do…"

xxxxxxxxxx

Two snaps up if you can figure out where the description of Edward sitting on his smoking step is from :D

And then we have a bit of a dun...dun...DUN.

I dunno what's going on...do you? :P

Just another bit of business: Real Life is really biting me big time. So, the next chapter might be delayed. Fear not. It's on it's way...it's just taking the local instead of the express.

Once again, a heart felt thanks to everyone who's reading and sticking with my little story. And, again, if you like it, just press that little review button and tell me. Or, if you don't, let me know that too! All feedback is welcome! And, if you like what you're reading, tell a friend or two!