DISCLAIMER: I don't own the characters. Stephenie Meyer does. The storyline's mine :)

Again, EdwardsFirstKiss, thank you for being a badass at editing ;)

I realized that jumping from the past to the present and vice versa might seem confusing. So, here's a little RECAP: Bella teaches second graders, she has some underlying issues with her past; in May she had had a panic attack when a guy she slept with reminded her of someone she had known, which made her depression slowly return. Now, she has a relationship with James; she loves him... (or so she thinks, but don't tell her just yet).

Enjoy. R.

8. Fifth Harmony – I'm In Love With a Monster

CHAPTER 7

This Was Confusing

"Wrap me in leather before you wrap me in lace
We breaking rules like we changing the game
He's trying it on, and he's ticking me off
Say what you want but I won't ever be told
I'm in love with a monster."

Friday, November 2, 2012

"Marcus, stop pulling Jane's hair!" I said for what must have been the tenth time. This kid was simply horrendous at times. But I blamed his father, Aro who got his ass kissed by everyone in the school because he had become a patron last year. Stupid prick. The poor kid didn't know otherwise but to demand attention by being naughty. If a kid was struggling for a longer period of time without any progress even after consultation with parents, I knew they were to blame. Parents were always the ones who fucked up their kids. I should know.

I was grateful that this was our last lesson. This day seemed to have lasted forever. And I couldn't wait to go home and get ready for the weekend with James. We were finally going to spend a weekend together and even though he came over on Wednesday night, the week felt like it was never-ending.

"Jane is stealing my pencils!" whined Marcus. I didn't like situations like this. My kids, in general, were very good and polite. But Jane who happened to be James' daughter had light fingers from time to time. She looked like an angel, and she was, in fact, a very clever and bright kid. But underneath that sweet demeanor, she was vicious. So, even though Marcus was telling the truth, and I knew Jane was to blame, his reaction to what she was doing didn't make the situation any easier.

"Jane, Marcus, stop it right now!" I said in a voice I hated to use. It was a voice of a mother and a teacher, requiring respect and obedience. I always preferred my classes to be fluid, organic, full of energy, cooperation, and mutual discussion. I knew that kids prospered the best in a creative and curiosity-igniting environment, rather than the one where grades and good behavior points were the only categories defining a child's academic ability. But there were times where it was necessary to use a more traditional approach and show that with Miss Swan, the school might have been fun, but she was still a teacher that they needed to respect and listen to.

The class silenced. I looked at Jane and Marcus. "I want to talk to both of you when the class is finished," I said, my voice stern and non-compromising. "Jane, return the pencils to Marcus and apologize. Marcus, apologize to Jane for pulling her hair."

"But she stole my pencils!" protested Marcus.

I narrowed my eyes. "Marcus, it wasn't a question."

He rolled his eyes. Jane - an innocent look on her face - pulled out the pencils from her pocket, acting like it wasn't her who'd put them in there. "Sorry, Marcus," she said gullibly, and I almost rolled my eyes at her act.

Marcus never bothered to be someone he was not. He simply growled – which was kind of funny – and took his pencils from her. "Sorry, Jane," he spat.

The rest of the lesson was relatively uneventful, Jane and Marcus not even looking at each other. When the bell finally announced the end of the school day, I couldn't be more relieved.

"Come here, you two," I said to Jane and Marcus who approached my table after class. I turned to Jane first. "Jane, do you want to explain why you took Marcus' pencils?"

Jane looked up and blinked her eyes so fiercely I expected the air to wind up and blow me away. She pouted her lips, and I knew exactly what was coming. She was simply too much like her father. "Miss Swan, I just borrowed Marcus' pencils and forgot about it. So, I must have slipped them into my pocket accidentally," she said confidently, but naively. She even used the word accidentally. She was way too smart and cunning and if I didn't know her better, I would believe her every word.

"Oh, Jane, you are such a liar!" reacted Marcus, frowning. "Miss Swan, you know she is lying. She always does!"

"Calm down, Marcus, please," I said to him. I know he must have been angry because of the injustice he often witnessed when it came to Jane. She was simply too smart for him. I always knew she was to blame, but she always managed to make Marcus take responsibility. And even though I knew it was her doing, Marcus always became somehow more violently involved, simply because of his attention-seeking nature. So, it was always both of them to blame, but in reality, it was always Marcus who I had to talk to.

"Jane, I really wish to believe you didn't intend to take Marcus' pencils, but it's not the first time your classmates have said that you took their things," I said, trying to keep my voice calm and steady, not wanting to add fuel to the fire. This animosity between them had to stop. "Is there any particular reason why you're doing that?"

Jane's brows furrowed when I spoke, as she realized I didn't accept her explanation. She didn't answer.

I continued. "You see, Jane, I will have to talk to your parents about it," I said, grinning devilishly inside.

I would definitely talk to your dad tonight and make him scream my name in ecstasy, sucking his dick until he can't see straight.

"And you, Marcus," I turned my attention to him. "Whenever something is going on, it is not right to get back at anyone who might have done you wrong. We need to talk about things to make them better. In life, you are going to have a lot of arguments with people, but you have to be able to talk when you are angry, and not throw punches," I said metaphorically. And literally. I knew he would understand. "Being violent and angry has never helped anyone solve anything. And that's what you want, right? To solve a problem - for Jane to stop. All of us in this class, including me, have to communicate if we want to get along and have fun."

"But no one ever listens to me," he whined, and I saw tears welling in his eyes. Of course, he had that feeling. No one ever listened to him at home until he did something forbidden. It was his way of communicating.

Fucking parents.

"I do listen to you, Marcus," I said, caressing his shoulder. "Whenever there is anything you want to talk about, if there is anyone bothering you or you just want to talk to someone, you can talk to me, okay, buddy?"

He looked up and the corner of his mouth popped up. "Okay. But I am not the one who always tells things about other people."

"Well, fighting your way out of it is not the way either."

Marcus sighed. I felt so sorry for him. If there wasn't any change, the kid might grow up as an awful and arrogant man who would enjoy revenge and getting back at people behind their backs. We didn't need people like that. He just needed someone who would listen to him and appreciate his efforts. Why couldn't we be more caring and attentive towards our kids?

Jane, on the other hand, was by nature a cunning fox. At seven years old, she already knew her way around people and all I could do was to try to keep her as honest as possible. But her mother was the same. She didn't have much direction at home. Anything I attempted to do at school was futile as long as she did whatever she wanted at home. James, however, never talked about his daughters much and I was glad. I could at least pretend that my professional and private lives didn't overlap.

"Jane?" a repugnant voice asked, the one I very well recognized. All three of us turned towards the door, and saw Jane's mother, Victoria, impatiently waiting for her. "Come, we need to get home."

"Mrs. Maillard? May I talk to you for a second?" Maillard. Fucking French name, I never knew how to pronounce it. James' father was French and his mother was English, but he was born somewhere in Pennsylvania. Or so I thought. We had never really gotten into any details. Not that we really had time…

"Yes, Miss Swan?" she asked as if she were reluctant to even acknowledge my existence. Bitch. Little did she know I fucked her husband.

"I want to talk to you about Jane. She has been problematic for last few weeks. A couple of the students have been complaining that she has stolen their things – pencils, crayons, and coloring books. Don't get me wrong, Jane is one of the brightest kids in the class, but her behavior is disrupting the learning process and causes quarrels amongst the kids. I have talked to her about it and, naturally, she denies any kind of wrongdoing. Could you, please talk to her about her behavior?" I asked, trying to be professional and calm. There were still kids in the class and they were all that mattered to me at this moment. Besides, the fact that I was sleeping with her husband gave me a secret superpower.

See who's on top?

"Are you trying to tell me that my daughter is a pick-pocket?" she asked incredulously.

"Well, I tried not to put it like that, but… yes."

"Excuse me?"

Oh, for god's sakes! "Mrs. Maillard, trust me, if I was less than sure it was her I would never-"

"Do you have proof?" she asked, her piercing green eyes trying to fire a hole in my face.

"And what do you expect me to have? CCTV?" I retorted. "Of course, I don't. But Jane knows very well what she has done. She had Marcus' pencils in her pocket."

"Well, Miss Swan, but she doesn't have them now, does she?" she asked Jane. Jane shook her "You see? You don't have any proof I am afraid we have nothing to talk about," she said conceitedly, dismissing me. She turned her back to me and walked away with Jane.

How dare she? One infuriating bitch!

"What is a bitch, Miss Swan?" I heard a little voice ask, and I looked down, puzzled. Makenna was staring at me with those large brown eyes of hers and only then did I realize that I must have said that out loud.

I kneeled down and looked into her innocent face. "Oh, sweetie, I… um…"

"Makenna, a bitch is a dog's wife," deadpanned Charles, and I almost lost it. Makenna was the shiest kid I had in the class, always a little behind. Charles was the boy with a huge heart and he always felt very protective of his friends; especially, of tiny Makenna.

"Is it true, Miss Swan?" she asked, looking at me as if she didn't believe Charles' words.

"Yes," I agreed. "Charles is right, it is a female name for a dog. But it is not very polite to use it in public, remember that, okay? Some people may be offended when they are called that."

"When they are called a dog's wife? I wouldn't be, I like dogs," said Makenna, lost in thought.

Was it really that bad that I wanted to laugh?

"I can call you a bitch," offered Charles and in that moment, I didn't know if I should laugh or cry.

"NO!" I said immediately, putting my hand over his mouth. "No, you can't! It is very impolite. Charles, please take your things and don't mention the word anymore, okay?"

He nodded, taken aback a little by my terrified expression.

"Why can't he use it, Miss Swan?" asked Makenna and even though she was always adorable with her never-ending list of questions, I wished she would not ask any now.

"Because, as I said, Makenna, it is impolite, and we shouldn't use it in public, at school or at home," I added quickly.

She shrugged, no change in her expression whatsoever. "Okay." And she left.

This day had been long. Very, very long. And the only thing I could think about was James.

When the classroom emptied, I grabbed all my things and hurried home. I didn't live that much far away from the school, so I always walked. But now I couldn't seem to get home fast enough.

Just when I was crossing the street, my phone rang.

"Hello?" I asked as I hadn't checked the caller ID.

"Bella, where are you?" Alice.

"On my way home. Why?"

She whined. "I wanted to say goodbye. And to warn you."

I rolled my eyes. "Come on, Alice. I'll be alright."

"Where exactly are you going? So, I know where to look for you when you don't return."

"Alice, stop being ridiculous. I thought it was his honesty that bothered you, not his criminal record."

"It still does, but I don't like him. What if he is a murderer or something?" she asked, her voice completely serious. I wish I could see her face.

"We're going to Langley on Whidbey Island," I said, ignoring her. It was a little island, less than a two-hour drive from Seattle.

"Oh, luckily, that's not too far away," she sighed.

"Alice," I said, but this time it was me who whined. I didn't want to admit to the fact that Alice's bitterness towards my relationship with James hurt. She had never really cared about my sex or romantic life for that matter, she never judged me and didn't ask questions about me or my past. And that's why I always felt comfortable around her. But since I'd started sleeping with James, her obvious disapproval and loud declarations of her opinion were making me uncomfortable.

"Alice, tell me, why do you hate him so much?" I dared to ask.

"Because he is a fucking douchebag, Bella, don't you see that? I have never had anything against you or how you lead your life. But… with James, I have a strange feeling. A hunch or something."

"A hunch?" I snorted.

"Don't laugh. I feel something coming. Something big. He is going to hurt you, Bella, and I don't like that. After what happened six months ago when we found you… I am worried about you. I don't want you to feel… down again."

I felt uncomfortable at the mention of my little… episode. But it made me feel good when she said that she was worried about me. However, I knew she wasn't worried for real, she had just said it to make me forget about James. "Look, Alice, I am doing good, okay? James makes it good. He makes me forget, I don't feel… down when I am with him. I feel better because of him."

Alice sighed. "I bet he's not gonna show up tonight."

"What?"

"I mean, it wouldn't surprise me if he has suddenly changed his mind," she said, her voice dipped in poisonous sarcasm.

Did she seriously mean it? I couldn't believe my ears.

"Bella?" she asked when I didn't respond.

Why was she doing this to me? "Alice, I didn't want your opinion and you're not making this any better. If you are going to act like a fucking psychic, don't call me anymore! Just fuck off!" I said, furious, and hung up. I didn't need her. I needed James. And he was going to show up.

I arrived home with a bittersweet feeling in my chest. I liked Alice, but she had crossed the line. I knew everything had gone wrong the moment they had found me in the bed, drunk and depressed. Now they didn't want to let it go. What had happened then was just a little misstep. A little reminder of the past. It wasn't me anymore. I was okay now. I truly was. James made me feel better. I loved him. I needed him.

To reset my mind and focus on forgetting Alice, I put some Kanye on and took a quick shower. I shaved, moisturized and exfoliated my skin and blew-dry my hair. It'd been some time since I had last cut it and it was extremely long, falling past my waist. Furthermore, it was very thick and heavy, so it took me almost an hour until it was properly dried. I had packed my bag yesterday, so I only had to add the last few things that I needed to take with me.

I looked at my watch. It was ten past six and James was supposed to pick me up at six-thirty. I had twenty more minutes until he would be here. I checked my mail and cleaned up a little, but Alice came to my mind again. I have a hunch… Something big is coming… I couldn't get her words out of my mind. Such bullshit. I mean, the only big thing I saw coming was James' dick.

God, was I horny.

At 6:45 I started to get nervous. Not that James was a very punctual person but the day itself had been too long for me to wait even longer to see him. I grabbed my bag and left my apartment, diving into a cold November evening, moving towards the parking lot behind the apartment block where I lived. I squeezed my eyes in an attempt to spot his black Audi, thinking that I might as well have waited for him here, so he didn't have to come up.

An icy gust of air enveloped me, and I dropped the bag on the ground, crossing my arms in front of me to keep myself protected from the wind. I never liked winter or cold, but I especially didn't like November. There was something about that month, about that empty transition from autumn to Christmas when everything seemed darker, gloomier and very sad in general. More so in Washington. In times like this, I wished I lived in Phoenix.

I looked at my phone and when I saw that it was a quarter past seven, I groaned out loud. Cars were pulling in, filling the lot, and the more I waited the slower the time seemed to pass. I thought about calling him, but I didn't want to intrude. What if he had an important meeting and he needed to be there? I knew he would come. Yes, we would arrive to Langley a bit late, but honestly? I didn't care.

At 7:44, when my fingers and toes were numb from the chilliness encompassing them, my phone rang. Without skipping a beat, I picked it up. "Yeah?"

"Bella?" James. Finally.

"Yeah?" I repeated like a totally dumb person. My voice was trembling; my teeth clicking together.

He seemed a little distracted. "Oh, hey, honey, I can't make it tonight. Something has come up."

When I heard the words, it was like a wrecking ball had hit me directly in the chest, making me lose my footing and falling onto the ground. FIguratively speaking, of course. I heard him saying something, but in fact, I didn't hear anything.

He is not going to come after all.

"Bella?" I heard him repeat for the second time.

"Yeah?"

He chuckled. "You there? I was saying that I am sorry, but that we'll go next weekend, I promise. Victoria has gone crazy tonight. You alright with that?"

I still felt a bit dumbstruck. "I guess so."

"Good, I knew you would be okay with it. You are always a very, very good girl," he said suggestively in a low voice.

I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat.

"Look, I have to go now, but I'll call you. Maybe I'll stop by at some point during the week, okay, Bella?"

I nodded and then realized he couldn't see me. "Yes, of course. I mean… it's alright, I know you're busy. Don't worry about that, you can come whenever you want."

"Great. Again, I am sorry, but I promise I'll make it up to you next weekend," he said playfully.

I smiled sadly. "Yeah, I know you will."

"I really need to hang up now. Bye, Bella."

"Bye," I breathed to the silent phone.

It only took five minutes until I was back home and burst into tears, my piece of heaven evaporating in the dark space, leaving me unsupported, making me fall down fast and hard. I felt uncomfortable and desolate; the contrast between what I had felt for the last few days and how I felt now was just too painful. Confusion and uncertainty possessed me once again and the moment I felt them coming, a new wave of tears fell from my eyes. I threw the bag in the corner of my room, and fell onto the bed, burying my face in the pillow.

I knew that what I had gotten myself into was dangerous. I was in love with a married man, for god's sakes. The father of three kids. But, in all honesty, I didn't really give a fuck; especially not about Victoria.

But he made me feel so good. I had met him shortly after that unfortunate incident in May when the girls found me in the bed, drunk and depressed. I had been feeling more miserable than usual, feeling the sadness and desperation more intensely then intensely than ever. It had been as if that guy I had slept with, the one who had reminded me of Jacob and made me scream and cry, had been a catalyst, making me relive everything I had been through, making me feel depressed again. I remembered how scared I had been when I thought it had been him lying in my bed. How scared, and then furious. A few weeks after that, I had met James in the school parking lot, where he was blocking me in with his huge black monster of a car. I usually didn't drive to work, but I had that day and I didn't believe it was a coincidence. Charming as he was, when he had noticed me, impatient and quite pissed off behind him, he had gotten out of the car and approached me. I had known him from school; I had seen him several times in the hallway during the school year. He was tall and muscular, with icy blue eyes and a ponytail, and always dressed very casually. I had always felt my insides turn when I saw him. A bad boy, I had read in his eyes. He was sexy as hell and the thought of luring him into my bed had been very inviting.

When he came over to my car, he smiled lopsidedly, looking apologetic. "I am very sorry, miss, for blocking you like that. I am waiting for my wife and daughter to come out, they shouldn't be long."

The mention of his wife and daughter stunned me, but only momentarily. I gave him my brightest smile. "It's alright, I believe you. Though, you might owe me for being stuck behind you. I am in a bit of a hurry," I said flirtatiously, lifting one brow in suggestion.

He didn't disappoint, of course. "Then, I am afraid, I do owe you. Besides, feel free to block me anytime if you want. It would only be only fair," he replied, a cocky grin playing on his lips.

We had talked a bit then, and a few days later I bumped into him in the hallway. He was with Jane and I was trying to do my best not to slide into flirty Bella mode. We had chatted and when he'd winked at me when he said goodbye, I felt incredibly aroused. There had always been something animalistic between me and him, something strongly instinctive. And I bet he felt it, too.

It didn't take us long to transfer our flirtatious encounters in the hallways to bed. At first, I just wanted his cock inside of me. I wanted to finally quench my desire for him. But after the first time he had fucked me in my car, I'd known we would see each other again. And we had. Initially, what had been purely about sex, had transformed into something I had enjoyed maybe a little too much. I loved how rough and dominant he was with me. I loved the pain he inflicted; I loved my body being simultaneously in pain and on the verge of climax. Only a few of my occasional lovers or hook-ups could satisfy my needs and James was everything I wanted, and more. He made me forget the pain I was starting to feel again. He hushed it. He made it go away. And I loved that.

Before I knew it, I was entirely exclusive with him. I knew he fucked his wife, I wasn't stupid. But I tried to ignore it. What we had, was crazy, and I loved it. Before I knew it, I loved him, too.

The first time that realization had come, I dismissed it immediately. I didn't need him. It was just sex. But the way he made me feel. I needed it. I craved it. The confusion and uncertainty of that new-old feeling made me think of the possibility that he loved me too. And I knew that he must love me. There was every indication that he did, even if he hadn't said it out loud.

"He is going to hurt you, Bella." Alice's words hit me again, and I laughed bitterly. I was hurting myself. With loving him. He couldn't hurt me. It was James. I knew I had to respect his space. He was the one who was married, had kids and had an important job. I had to accommodate him. And despite the fact that I knew all of that I felt sad and disappointed, the thought of him not loving me was permeating my thoughts again.

Oh, Bella, of course, he loves you. You're going to spend the weekend together. Just not this one. Do you know how difficult it must be for him to handle his family and you too? Don't be a burden. Just Don't. Be. A. Burden.

Inhale. Exhale.

We were going to be good. We were going to be just fine.

XOXOXOXOXOX

We hadn't seen each other the whole week, nor had we spoken. Every time I had a phone in my hand, I thought about calling him or, at least, writing him a text. But I rejected the thought as soon as it appeared. I knew he was busy, and I didn't want to look like an impatient teenage girl, so hooked on the guy that she could not stop thinking about him. I wasn't.

But the seed of doubt he had implanted in my mind when he hadn't shown up last Friday, was growing and making me uncomfortable.

"What's wrong with you, hon?" asked Rosalie on Wednesday in my class, when I told her I was not going to have lunch today for the third day in a row. To see Alice – who was right in her suspicion – was the last thing I wanted to do. We hadn't talked to each other since Friday. Besides, I had been terribly distracted this week, barely talking to anyone; my thoughts were constantly occupied by James as I was trying to justify his behavior and why he hadn't called yet.

"Nothing."

She narrowed her beautifully shaped brows. "Bella."

I looked at her. "What?"

"What happened? Alice says you had a fight. She looks upset, too, but doesn't want to talk about it. Would you like to explain it to me?"

It looked like Alice hadn't said anything to Rosalie about our last conversation, and I was surprised by that. She wasn't known to keep anything to herself. "I don't want to talk about it either."

Rosalie sighed. "Bella, this behavior drives me crazy. One week I think you might be high, so happy all the time, and the second you are so distracted and unfocused I think you have gotten lost in your own head. Did something happen with James last weekend?" she asked. I didn't confess that James had stood me up and I certainly wasn't going to. It would just prove Alice right and I might lose Rosalie's support in case she found something valid in Alice's theory.

"Of course not," I said as if there was no way something could be wrong.

She seemed to believe me. "Then what? Is it just about Alice? Has she upset you? I know she might be a lot to take at times, especially now that she doesn't approve of James, but, Bella, you know her. She will shut up. Eventually."

"Will she?" I asked, and it came out a bit more harshly than I originally intended.

"Bella. We are your friends, you can tell us anything, you know that," she said.

No, I couldn't. "Just let it go, Rose, I'm fine."

And she did, albeit reluctantly. I thought that he would show up on Wednesday, just like he had for the past two weeks, but no. Nothing. On Thursday I started to panic a little. What if he wasn't going to call me at all? What if he realized he didn't want me anymore? He loved me, didn't he?

Simply said, Thursday was hell on earth for me. In the morning, I bumped into Alice in the hallway. But I turned away the moment I looked into her face, feeling guilty and angry at the same time; guilty because I had broken contact with her and angry because I still remembered her incredibly hostile and sarcastic comments that made me feel like I was incompetent in all things relationship oriented. What did she know?

After classes finished, Marcus' dad showed up, and I thought I was going to jump out of my skin.

"Oh, hello Miss Swan. So lovely to see you again," he said, flashing me a fake smile. I almost saw sarcasm dripping from his lips. Fucker. We both remembered our last encounter. Not a pleasant memory.

I didn't smile. "Is everything to your liking, Mr. Volturi?" I asked, knowing he was in school only to check with the authorities on school-related matters. He would never pick up his son just because he was his son. Please. Why would he do such a thing?

"As usual, yes. Is everything to your liking, Miss Swan?" he asked.

Of course not, you fucking motherfucker! "Why yes, it is. We had no problems today, Marcus, did we?" I asked more gently, looking at the little boy who stood beside his father. Of course, we always had problems, the two of us, but I had no desire to fight his father today over Marcus' need for his parents' attention. Marcus didn't move an inch and his large dark eyes were on my face, shaking his head slightly.

"Very good, Miss Swan. Very good," he said approvingly, a clear warning in his voice, and in that moment, I thought about putting my fist in his face.

I didn't respond. Instead, I smiled at Marcus and ruffled his hair playfully. Poor baby.

So, quite pissed off and anxious I returned home only to find a delivery guy loudly knocking on my door.

Geez, calm down.

"Hello. Are you Miss Isabella Swan?" he asked when he noticed me shooting daggers at him.

"Yes," I responded and spotted a large rectangular parcel resting against the door.

"I have a parcel for you. Would you sign this, please?" he asked, handing me a clipboard with some papers.

"I didn't order anything."

"Well, miss, you didn't have to. Someone might have sent you something," he said, a little impatiently.

I signed the papers and the moment I returned the clipboard, he left. I looked at the parcel and wondered what the hell it was. I lifted it up – it was quite heavy and thick – and opened the door, walking into the kitchen. When I looked at the return address, my breath hitched, and I swallowed hard. It was my father's address. Fucking Forks.

Crap. Shit. Fuck.

For a few seconds I thought about throwing the parcel away, and not even opening it. Why would he contact me now? I hadn't seen him in years. What is inside? Maybe some of the things I'd left there. But why would he send them now? I'd told him to get rid of everything. Damn it!

My curiosity, however, was bigger than the anger I felt and despite the wave of unpleasant memories that I had always managed to suppress, I opened the parcel. I didn't know exactly what I had expected, but it certainly wasn't that. It'd been seven years since I had last seen them. But even that amount of time couldn't erase the longing and pain when I touched them, when I felt the texture of the paper, soft strokes of the brushes and smelled a faint scent of dehydrated oil paints. Some of the paintings were cracked, covered in networks of straight or barely curved lines breaking the painting in parts. God knows where they had been stored. The Watercolor paintings were not in such a bad condition, but they were too dry upon touch. Some of the paintings were on canvases, but the majority of them were on the hard papers I'd used when I didn't have a canvas to paint on. Underneath the paintings, I even found my old, thick sketchbook, dirty and with yellowed pages. When I slowly opened it, I stopped breathing.

I knew very well what I was going to find, but I didn't expect the intensity of the emotions that spread inside of me when I saw - at first - uncertain and confused sketches I knew I had drawn when Mom was still alive. Page after page, however, the sketches grew darker and more aggressive, representing the dreams I started to have after Mom's death. Black voiceless spirals and dragons, scaring the shit out of me every night.

I didn't even realize I was crying, only when the drops of water fell on one of the sketches. I put the sketchbook down before I completely fell apart, feeling the familiar lump in my throat.

Why now?

With anger I reached for the box, wanting to put all of the things back into the parcel, but on the very bottom I saw a note.

Hey Bella.

Sue wanted to throw these away, but I figured you might want them.

I hope you're well. Leah says she misses you.

I miss you, too.

Seth.

Whatever sadness I felt was gone. Now I was furious. How dare she miss me? Fucking bitch. I had nothing to say to her. Absolutely nothing.

But Seth… I missed Seth, too. I didn't think about him much, but when I did, it was always in the best way possible. That kid had been my only true friend. I knew that now and even though I avoided him because being with him was just too painful for me, there was nothing bad I could say about Seth Clearwater; even though his aunt and sister were the queens of all bitches in the world.

The last time I had seen him must have been around two years ago. It was a Sunday, and I had been late for lunch with Alice. I was in such a hurry that I was less careful than usual and tripped over my own feet, falling directly onto my face. I remember swearing like a sailor and feeling a sharp pain in my knees.

"Bella? Is that you?" asked a familiar voice.

Still placated on the ground, I looked up. "Seth?"

"You alright? Come, give me your hand," he acted immediately, helping me to stand up. I looked down at my knees and swore again. Fuck.

Seth laughed. "I see you haven't changed."

I shook my head. "This is never going to change. What are you doing here?" I asked, still a bit surprised to see him in Seattle. After we had graduated, he had traveled quite a bit.

"I live here," he responded, still smiling widely. Then he motioned to the shop behind his back. "And this is my shop."

It was a store with musical instruments. Of course. Music was an integral part of Seth.

"Wow, it looks fantastic, Seth!" I said, genuinely impressed.

"Thanks, Bella. I really want to make a music lounge bar out of it, you know; a shop during the days and a music venue at night. I want to have my own place to play."

I raised my brows. "Do you still play?"

"'Of course I do," he smiled. "But what do you do?"

I frowned. First dagger. "I teach."

"Do you? I thought you were going to go to Chicago after graduation. I knew you had wanted to try to get into the Art Institute again."

Second dagger. "Um, no. I stayed here." Shut the fuck up, Seth. Just shut up.

He frowned as well and probably guessed I didn't want to talk about it. "Well, I am happy to see you, anyway. You want to go for a coffee sometime? I'd like to know how you've been."

The truth was, as much as I loved seeing him; I had no desire to relive old memories. He had been a huge support to me in college, but that was it. I moved on and I didn't want to go back to what had been.

So, even though I had politely declined his offer, he gave me his phone number and store address had I ever want to see him or call him. Always so nice. But only seeing him for a few minutes had let the skeletons run out of the closet, making me think of things I had put behind me. Seth was a part of that past, and I didn't want to visit it again.

Yeah, I hadn't seen him since then. Either he had returned to Forks or was visiting his aunt when he had sent the parcel.

Taking in a deep breath, letting go of Seth, Leah, and everything Forks-related, I put the paintings and sketchbook into the box and into my closet. Feeling shaky and out of breath I put on my PJs and curled up in bed. Thinking of Mom and being alone, I eventually cried myself to sleep.

XOXOXOXOXOX

I woke up to an annoying sound coming from my phone. I looked around and it was already dark. Recognizing the tune, I knew that it wasn't an alarm but someone calling me. Absent-mindedly, I reached for the phone and picked it up. "Yeah?"

I heard a laugh. "Can't believe you're sleeping, Bella."

My eyes shot open. "James?!"

"Who else would it be?"

I got almost angry at him. "I don't know. Anyone but you. Why haven't you called?"

"Sorry. I've been busy. Just calling to make sure we're still on for tomorrow."

Oh, yes. Right. I almost said no. Almost. "Yeah, of course, we are."

"Nice. I'll pick you up at six, okay?"

"Sure."

"Okay. See you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow," I replied, but the phone was already silent. I guess I should've been more elated, but I was too confused and sleepy to react properly. Besides, today had been one giant mess.

I looked at the time. It was 8:41 pm. Ignoring the fact that I felt relatively rested, I reached for my headphones on the bedside table and listened to Kanye until I was sound asleep again.

XOXOXOXOXOX

"Agrhhhh," I groaned in both pain and arousal when I felt the leather whip land on my ass again. "Seven," I breathed. His fingers slipped between my legs and I almost lost it.

"How wet you are," I heard him ask in a suggestive voice.

I smiled drunkenly. He was teasing me today in a way he never had before. Another whip came out of nowhere and involuntary tears streaked out of my eyes. "Eight."

"Good girl," he said.

Another whip. "Nine," I said through clenched teeth. This one was vicious.

And again. I squeaked. "Ten," I breathed and was partly glad it was over. He was unusually rough today. Not that I complained, mind you. After Thursday's shitty day, the new wave of pain and sex was more than welcome.

"On your knees," he ordered. I was lying on my belly; my legs were restricted, tied to the corners of the bed with ropes. My hands were cuffed above my head. I moved down, my body already feeling terribly sore, lifting my ass up in the air, moving onto the knees. I was about to straighten myself up when he pushed my head downward, so my face was on the bed, but I was still on my knees, my butt up in the air.

"Wanna come?" he growled, and I moaned in impatience. He grabbed my hips tightly from behind, shoving his dick violently inside me. His thrusts were ferocious and fast, leaving me breathless. My body was moving up and down, my face rubbing the sheets as my hands were above my head. I felt my insides turn and spasm around him and that was when his hand landed on my ass.

"Don't come," he hissed, and I knew better than to not listen to him. But, fuck, was it hard! I was convulsing, and I could hardly do anything to stop it at this point.

"Fuck, Bella! I told you not to come!" And that was when I felt his body bend over mine, reaching for my hair, pulling it tightly. "How dare you…"

And I came. Hard. He pushed my face to the mattress and then straightened up; thrusting into me so wildly that it was almost uncomfortable. Very soon he groaned in a climax as well.

He collapsed onto my back with his full weight, and it took a second until I caught my breath. Crap. That was something. I bet I had a hole in my ass by now.

We had arrived at Langley on Friday, shortly before eight. The hotel was beautiful, spacious and luxurious, as well as our room. He told me he had made a reservation at the same hotel we were supposed to go to last weekend. Any hard feelings I had towards James subsided when I saw him in his black car, waiting for me in the parking lot on Friday evening. He did come. He did love me. But I felt a little nervous and uncomfortable to be alone with him, to be honest. We had never been together for a long period of time. At first, I thought we could spend some time hiking or something, have a bit of an adventure, but James didn't want to do any of that shit. It hurt a little, but it was James, and I had to accept it.

Now, it was Saturday, and we were going back tomorrow morning. We had been fucking since last night and, and god, was I tired. But it was amazing to spend so much time alone with him. We had had a lot of sex and delicious food, but sleep wasn't something we wanted to waste time on. It was my long-awaited weekend with James. I intended to enjoy every minute of it.

He lifted himself up and turned onto his back. I was lying on my belly, still tied up. Finally, after a few minutes, he untied me and reached for the keys, and uncuffed me as well.

"Thanks," I breathed.

´He didn't respond. I stretched my limbs and turned on my back, snuggling into his side, sighing in contentment. This was pure heaven. He was here, with me. Again. And so far, we had had a weekend full of mind-blowing sex.

I turned my head to look into his face. I saw his profile glistening slightly covered in a thin layer of sweat, lit only by the dim light of the bedside lamp. I had always liked it, though its sharp edges and creases were sometimes hard to connect with his gentler facial expressions. His cheekbones were high and protruding, his jaw hard and sharp, ending in a thin and pointed chin. His nose was long and its tip maybe a bit too jagged. Cold blue irises were hidden deep under his thick dark brows, making my heart jump every time they found mine.

Tentatively, I reached my finger out and slid it from his temple to his lips. When I realized what I was going to say, my heart started to beat crazily, and I was sure he heard it. "James?"

"Hm? He asked; he didn't look at me.

I swallowed hard. "I-I think I love you."

I felt his whole body stiffen underneath me and as a reaction, mine stiffened as well. He exhaled and slowly turned his head to me. His face was unreadable, his jaw clenched.

Oh, god, why did I say anything?

He was looking into my face for what felt like an eternity. At last, he moved, but not in the way I wanted him to. Without a second look, he pushed me away and stood up, putting his clothes on. Speechless, I watched him move towards the door.

"James?" I piped.

He turned to me, shrugging his shoulder dismissively. "I'm gonna have a smoke." The door closed.

Then I just sat there, beaten and naked, feeling my insides open and bleeding.

A/N The next chapter is going to be the last from Bella's past and after that, we'll finish the first part of the story.

If you have any questions, please, ask. It's a lot to take, I know.

If you find it interesting, I always like to read a review or two ;)

Hugs and kisses, R.