A/N: Here is chapter 3 for you guys! :)

Please, enjoy! Feedback is always appreciated!

For the last couple of days, I've avoided the house across the street. I've still taken the occasional peek out of the window during the workouts, but my days of obsessive spying are over. Then, Saturday night Heather Monroe is murdered, and things slowly begin to change.

My dad I are watching the eleven o'clock news, waiting for the sports recap, when the girl's tragic story comes up. I don't know Heather Monroe from Novi, and, sadly, I'm not shocked to hear a story about a girl who has been found raped, beaten, and stabbed twenty-seven times—I do live in the greater Detroit area. But when her picture flashes up on the screen, I find myself staring at a fifteen-year-old tall, skinny, brunette, brown-eyed girl.

Something about the image is haunting, and not just because I'm a fifteen-year-old, tall, skinny, brunette, brown-eyed girl. It's more than that. Heather Monroe could be my twin sister. I know I'm not the only one thinking that either, because my dad immediately turns off the television, kisses the top of my head, and tells me how much he loves me, and then leaves the room.

That night, I dream of Edward for the first time. I'm standing in his garage, and the entire wall behind me is painted like a giant bullseye. I feel afraid. I need to escape, but my legs just won't move.

Edward is here, and when he looks at me with those green, green eyes, I get lost in them. "Bella," he calls to me, whispering my name almost reverently.

Then he begins throwing knives at me. I can't move. The only thing I can do is pinch my eyes shut and wait for the pain, but the pain doesn't come. I open my eyes again, and the knives land in my clothes, pinning my arms and legs to the bullseye behind me. I'm trapped.

He walks up to me, admiring his aim. My breath gets shallower with every step he takes in my direction. "Bella," he whispers again as he brings the tip of a knife to the side of my face. "Relax."

He drags the blade down my cheek and then down the side of my neck so lightly that it could be his fingers caressing me, instead. Then he drops the knife to the ground. I flinch at the sound, and that's when he kisses me. He kisses me, and kisses me, and kisses me until I think that my body will melt from the wall into a small puddle on the floor.

Someone begins pounding on the garage door, yelling my name. I know I should call out for help, but I can't make myself do it. Not when his kisses make me feel so good. The knocking gets louder and louder, until eventually my mom walks into my room and shakes me. I wake up with a gasp, and my mom is immediately concerned.

"It was just a dream, Mom," I tell her, trying not to blush, because I can still practically feel Edward's lips on mine. "A nightmare, I think."

She smiles understandingly, and then pushes my bangs back to look at my stitches. "How's your head this morning?"

I think about it for a second. "A lot better. The headache is gone."

"I've felt bad for having to leave you every day," Mom says with a sigh. "I should have taken a few days off work, but with the cruise coming up, I haven't really had any time..."

"Don't worry about it," I say quickly, not wanting her to feel guilty.

She and Dad are going on a cruise to the Caribbean later this summer for their twentieth anniversary. They've never been on a real vacation before, without Alex or me tagging along, and I don't think I've ever seen either of them more excited about anything in their lives. They've been the easiest parents ever since they booked this trip. They didn't even ground me when I got suspended the last month of school for wailing on Gabby Reese after she called me a lesbian. No need to kill their moods over one dumb accident.

"I've just slept most of the time, anyways," I assure her. "And I really am feeling a lot better today. I could probably even go for a skate later. I'm dying to get outta the house for a little while."

Mom frowns at that, but then sighs. "Just be careful, and remember—"

"—to always take the skates off before the helmet," I finish for her, nodding my understanding.

Mom's concern melts into a smile. "I've gotta go to the supermarket now; do you want anything?"

"Rocky road and mint-chip?"

Mom snorts. "I guess you really are feeling better." She stands up from my bed, kisses me on the forehead, and heads for the door. "Take it easy today, Gretzky."

"I did take it easy!" I yell, before my mom can say anything when I roll into the house later the same day, all covered in blood. I lean over the kitchen sink and begin to wash the dried blood off my hands and face. "It was just a small pick-up game in the park, and I didn't even hit back!"

"What happened, Bells?" Dad asks from somewhere in the family room.

"I took an elbow to the nose. Don't worry; I'm sure it isn't broken. Can somebody hand me a freakin' towel?"

I suddenly get what I ask for. More than I ask for, actually. I'm pulled against a body, and my head gently tilts back until it's resting on someone's shoulder. Then, the dish towel I've requested is pressed lightly to my throbbing nose. I instinctively scream and try to escape my surprise captor, but the arm around my waist is a vice.

"There are easier ways of getting my attention than continually bloodying yourself, Bella," the object of my nightmare coos. His lips brush my ear, breath as warm as it was in my dream.

For a single instant, I think I've been knocked out during the game and am having another nightmare. I wrestle free of the embrace to find Edward looking wickedly amused.

"What the hell is the matter with you?" I seethe.

Edward holds up from the bloody towel with a perfect mask of innocence. "I'm only trying to help."

I snatch the towel from his hands angrily, and take a safe step away from him as I attempt to stop the nosebleed on my own. "What are you doing here?"

Alex traipses into the kitchen then, pulling something from the fridge. "Bella, is that any way to greet a guest? This is Edward," she informs me. "Aren't you excited to finally meet your knight in shining armor?"

"It's nice to finally meet you," Edward agrees. The knowing smile he flashes me sends two different kinds of chills through me.

"Yeah," I say sarcastically. "Finally."

I'm glad when Alex breaks the awkward silence, and even more glad when she weaves her arm through Edward's. "Dinner's all ready," she says, pulling him in the direction of the dining room. "You can sit next to me." It's a relief to have that killer smile of his pointed at someone besides me this time.

I retreat to the safety of my room and take a deep breath when the door shuts securely behind me. As I change out of my blood-soaked shirt, I think about the person downstairs waiting to have dinner with my family. So, he likes to throw knives at mannequins and has no sense of personal space. That isn't really a reason to fear him; I mean, Vince Kowalski had no problem invading my personal space as he was bashing my face this afternoon, and I didn't fear him. In fact, the next time I'm in the game with Vince, he's going to be really sorry.

But still, there's something very unsettling about Edward, and it really irks me.

I get back downstairs in record time, determined not to let this guy intimidate me. After all, no guy ever has before.

"Here she is!" Dad exclaims proudly when I enter the dining room, which is just off to the left of the stairs. "This is our youngest daughter, Bella."

My dad gestures to me and then sweeps his hand toward the woman I saw driving the BMW. She's even more striking up close and seems oddly out of place at our dingy old dinner table. Mom would beg to differ and refer to it as an "antique," but I digress.

"Bells," Dad addresses me, "this is our new neighbor, Esme Platt, and, of course, you've already met her nephew, Edward Masen."

I try to brace myself as I look in the direction my father is now pointing, but it doesn't do me any good. I meet Edward's eyes, and instantly all of my resolve flies out of the window. My heart speeds up, my adrenaline spikes, and judging by the way Edward is watching me—a predator stalking his prey—I'm beginning to think he can smell my fear too.

"Bella, where are your manners?" Mom chides, something she does a lot with me.

I look up at them, but at least now I'm annoyed instead of intimidated. Edward grins at me, and I try to keep the edge out of my voice as I say, "Thanks for helping me."

"Helping you?" Alex repeats incredulously. "Bella, he rescued you." She turns to Edward then, glowing with admiration. "You saved her life."

Edward flashed me another smile. "It was my pleasure."

Alex quickly tries to regain his attention. "I don't know how you stayed so calm," she said. "There was so much blood. You must be really brave."

"Or maybe he just likes blood," I grumble under my breath, sinking lower in my chair.

"Actually," Edward's aunt speaks up, startling me. For a moment, I wonder if she heard me, but she's smiling. "Edward is great in emergency situations. He's certified in both CPR and First Aid, and has had self-defense training."

"Is expert knife slinging considered self-defense?" I want to ask.

"Really?" Alex coos, resting her hand on his arm. "That's so great!"

"Yes, I have high hopes that he will be a great doctor one day," Esme continues to brag.

"A doctor!" Alex gasps. "Yeah, after seeing you in action, I'm sure you'd make a great doctor."

"Maybe I would," Edward says lightly. "Seems to me you could use one on staff in this house for Bella alone."

Jerk.

Everyone laughs at his remark, except me, of course. To my horror, all I can do is blush. It's my mom who finally throws me a bone and gets the attention off of me. "Is that what you're going to study, then?" she asks Edward. "I assume you'll be starting college in the fall."

"No, I'm just barely seventeen. I'll be a senior this fall. Which is a good thing, because I have no idea what I want to do. I need the time to think about it."

My mom smiles sympathetically. "Transferring high schools before your senior year? That's got to be rough."

Esme sighs. "I did feel bad about having to move, but he's been very mature about it."

I catch my dad glancing at Alex with a smirk on his face, and I can't hold back my smile, either. Alex is going to be a senior, too, and if my dad transferred us this year, she would have started World War III. Dad winks at me, and then we turn our attention back to the conversation.

"It won't be so bad," Edward is saying as he grins at me again. "The neighborhood is already turning out to be much more exciting than I expected." Everyone chuckles again, with more glances in my direction. "Plus, now I'll at least have a couple of friends to keep me company through the summer."

"Oh, more than just a couple!" Alex is practically bubbling over with excitement. "I can introduce you to a ton of people this summer. In fact, there's a big beach party this Friday. I know it's not exactly the kind of beach you're used to in California, but it's still really fun. My friend, Rachel, has a lake house with a boat and Jet Skis. Half the senior class is going."

"I don't know about this party, Alexandra," Mom interrupts in a wary voice, using Alex's full name to emphasize her concern.

"Oh, don't worry, Mom. Rachel's parents will totally be there. It's a barbecue, not a rave."

"It's not that, honey; I trust Rachel's parents. But, after what happened to those other girls? I just don't know if it's a good idea to be out so late on the weekends right now."

"What girls?" Alex, Edward, and I all ask in unison while simultaneously leaning forward.

"Do you mean the two stabbing victims?" Esme asks, and my mom nods.

"Remember the girl we saw on the news last week, Bells?" Dad asks me suddenly. "The one who..." His voice trails off, and I shiver.

"Heather Monroe," I murmur.

"She wasn't the only one. There was another girl the weekend before. Stabbed to death in Farmington Hills. She fit the same profile."

I shudder again. I can tell by the look on Dad's face that by "the same profile" he means a carbon copy of me. A moment passes between us, which Alex interrupts by blurting out, "Are you saying there's a serial killer on the loose right now?"

My face blanches, and my dad quickly assures us that there isn't. "You don't look too convinced," I tell him, because he doesn't.

"The murders may be connected," Edward says out of nowhere, "but they can't be considered serial killings unless there's three or more."

Esme must see the look I'm giving her nephew, because she says, "No, he's right. I was watching a special report about it the other night. The police are actually pretty sure that the two deaths are coincidence."

"They're sure?" Mom asks.

Esme shrugs. "They seem pretty confident."

Mom looks back at Alex. "When is this party?"

"Friday."

"And Rachel's parents will be there?"

Alex nods. "Plus some of their friends, too."

Mom peers at Dad, and then back at Alex. Finally, she sighs. "Fine, you can go. Only on one condition—you can't go alone."

"There," Alex says, turning to Edward. "You have to come with me now, because I can't go by myself."

Edward frowns in confusion. "Won't Bella be going, too?"

Alex snorts, which makes Edward even more confused, until he sees the look of disgust on my face.

"I'd rather take my chances with the serial killer."

"Isabella Marie!" Mom exclaims. Again with the chiding.

For a moment, everyone remembers that there is food on the table. I'm glad for the silence, but I can feel Edward's eyes on me. I brave a glance and then wish I didn't, because he's watching me with that same intense-yet-amused look I've seen on him so many times already. It also reminds me of my dream.

When the phone blares to life in the kitchen, it feels like one of life's small miracles. Alex jumps up, but before she can get two steps, my mom is hollering, "Sit back down, Alex!"

"But, Mom—"

"But nothing! We are in the middle of a nice dinner with company."

"But, you took my phone! I don't even have voicemail right now."

"We have an answering machine."

"But—"

"Alexandra Clare!" Mom finally silences Alex's protests with a look, and I laugh.

Alex is addicted to her cell phone, but last month she accrued like two-hundred dollars in overages, and my parents flipped. She's grounded from the thing for the whole summer. I don't have one either, but that's just because I've never needed one. I only ever talk to The J's, and they just come over. Most of the time they don't even bother to knock. Still, when my parents offered to let me use Alex's phone for the summer after she got grounded, I took it just to piss her off. It's buried somewhere in the mess that is my closet.

Alex catches me laughing at her, and then gives me a dirty look. I start to stick my tongue out at her in retaliation, but then the answering machine picks up the call in the kitchen. When I hear three very obnoxious voices call out, "Swaaaaaaaan!" I forget about antagonizing my sister, and shoot out of my chair.

"Bella!" my mom calls in a warning tone.

"Mom! The J's are at camp! I can't just call them back."

My dad, bless him, reasons with my mom and I take off, hoping to catch my best friends before they hand up. "What's up, losers?" I say breathlessly.

For a minute all I can hear is chaos, and then someone obviously punches someone else. Apparently, Jared wins the scuffle for control over the phone, because he said, "You're never gonna guess!"

The excitement in his voice makes me forget about everyone in the other room. "What?"

"We got to scrimmage with the Wings!"

"The Detroit Red Wings? You actually played with them?"

"Franzen, Zetterberg, Howard...," Josh promises, and Jake yells in the background, "All of them!"

"NO FREAKIN' WAY! YOU GUYS SUCK!"

"Isabella Marie!" Mom shouts from the dining room, her tone shrill. "Language, missy!"

I glance in her direction and immediately see Edward studying me. Something about the look on his face pisses me off. "Sorry!" I call to Mom. "I'll just take it in the office."

"We still have company," she calls back, slightly annoyed.

"I just need five minutes! Promise!"

I take the cordless phone past the downstairs bathroom and plop down into my dad's desk chair as The J's take turns snagging the phone from each other in order to tell me all about the amazing summer they're having without me.

It was Jared who finally said, "So, you were in the hospital for a head injury? What's up with that? Can't hold your own on the court without us?"

"Please." I snort. "I had to resort to playing at the park today, and I killed those guys, despite Vince Kowalski busting up my face."

"Kowalski mashed your face?" Jake says in the background—they must have me on speaker. "Sweet! I've always wanted a reason to pound that dickhead."

"Sorry, Jake. He'll be dead long before you get back."

"Knock one of his teeth out for me!"

"With pleasure," I promised.

"So, seriously, Swan," Jared says. "Why were you in the hospital?"

"It was so stupid, guys. My first concussion, and it wasn't even in a game! Winston got out of the Haskins's yard. Jumped me without my helmet on. I almost bled to death on the driveway. There's a huge stain there now."

"Awesome!"

"Yean, I'm gonna have a pretty nasty scar, too," I say, absently fingering my stitches.

"So, who was the tool?" Josh wants to know.

"What tool?'

"We called last week, and some guy answered. Said you couldn't talk because you just got back from the hospital and were asleep."

"He answered the phone?" I nearly yell. For some reason, the thought of Edward talking to The J's is horrifying.

"Who is he?"

"Just this guy... He and and his aunt moved into dead lady Cromwell's house across the street."

"He got any game?"

I laugh. "Not any game that would be beneficial to you, unless you're thinking of switching to the other team—if you catch my drift."

"The dude's gay?" Jared gasps. I hear a lot of snickering in the background.

"He's sure pretty enough to be gay," I say. "He's like a male version of Alex. Dresses like a J. Crew model, styles his hair, probably has legions of zombie girls at his beck and call. Alex has been salivating over him since he showed up."

"Sounds like a bad horror film," Jake says at the same time that Alex appears in the doorway of the office.

Bad horror film is exactly the right description for my sister. Specifically, Carrie comes to mind—at the end when she goes psycho and wastes everyone at prom. "Bella!" she hisses. "Edward is in the bathroom! He can probably hear every word you're saying!"

"Well, it's not like it isn't obvious," I snap, annoyed that she's been listening to my conversation. In my best helpless airhead voice, I say, "Oh, Edward, you're so brave! I'd play doctor with you anytime!" I veer my eyes into a roll, switching back to my normal voice. "I think some of your drool actually fell onto his plate."

The guys can't even see us, but they are howling with laughter through the phone. Alex is turning a scary shade of red, enraged beyond anything I've ever seen her before, and Edward chooses that exact moment to wander into the office. I think Alex's knees want to give out, but somehow she manages to storm out of the room.

Edward watches her go for a second, but quickly turns his attention back to me. "We miss you at the dinner table," he says with a grin. "Your mom sent me to drag you back." When I don't respond, he adds, "I'm willing to use excessive force, if necessary."

With The J's on the phone, it feels as if they're standing right here with me. I draw a little courage from them, finally able to respond to Edward appropriately, instead of melting into a big puddle of wuss. I roll my eyes at him and sigh into the phone. "I gotta go, guys. My mom is having a cow 'cause we're eating dinner right now. You guys suck. You better, at least, have gotten me some autographs."

I say good-bye, and when I end the call, Edward is still standing there. He's leaning against the doorway now, watching me, his arms folded across his chest.

"What?" I snap, almost defensively.

"You're very interesting when you're in your comfort zone," he says thoughtfully, shrugging.

"Is that supposed to be a compliment?"

"More so, I'm sure, than being 'pretty enough to be gay.'"

My stomach lurches. So... He did hear what I said. I steel myself, refusing to let him intimidate me again. "If you didn't like what you heard, don't eavesdrop next time."

I try to walk past him out of the office, but his hand shoots out, blocking my exit. "I liked some of it," he murmurs, his voice dangerously low. "I liked the part where you said you wanted to play doctor with me."

I'm not sure how your stomach can cave in on itself and your heart flip in your chest all at the same time, but the end result when it happens to me right then is that it causes my foot to stomp down on Edward's as hard as its capable. He stumbles back in surprise, and I quickly make my escape.

When I sit back down, Alex is glaring at me from across the table. Who knew I'd actually find her presence reassuring?

"Where's Edward?" Esme suddenly asks.

I peer up through my lashes, realizing he hasn't followed me. Good, I think. I shrug, and stuff my mouth with enchiladas.

"Isabella, don't be so rude," Mom chides, her mouth pulling down into a disapproving frown.

"What? I don't know where he went. He told me to come back in here, so I did."

"Isabella?" Esme asks. "That's a pretty name. Alexandra, too."

"They were named after their grandmothers," Mom says, forgetting my attitude. She always gets excited when someone shows interest in mine or Alex's name. Probably because it so rarely happens. "Bella even shares a birthday with one of them. She's turning her Sweet Sixteen in a few weeks. Fourth of July, to be exact."

"Oh! Happy Birthday! Having your birthday on July fourth must be kind of fun."

"Oh, yeah, it's a real blast." I try not to be too sarcastic with Esme, but I don't think it works out very well. "It's in the middle of summer, and it's a holiday, so none of your friends are ever around."

Mom, whose sitting next to me, very subtly pinches me beneath the table. "Sorry," I grumble, then I really try to be sincere. I don't what's wrong with me; I'm usually not so grouchy. "I do like having fireworks on my birthday," I tell Esme.

Edward comes back then, smiling pleasantly at everyone. "What did I miss?"

Esme is more than happy to fill Edward in. "Bella was born on Independence Day. She's about to turn—"

"Sixteen," Edward finishes for her. He looks at me then, as if nothing happened between us earlier. As if I didn't just make fun of him to my friends and stomped his foot when he made a pass at me. "Are you doing anything special? Party? Big date with your boyfriend?"

I know he's just giving me a hard time—he already knows I don't have a boyfriend—but Alex laughs so hard she chokes on her food and develops a coughing fit. Edward, I notice, doesn't seem to be in any hurry to come to her rescue.

"I'm buying a car," I say, indirectly answering Edwards questions, because, in fact, I have exactly zero plans for my birthday this year. "Been saving up. My dad is going out with my this Saturday to pick one out."

"Oh, Bells, about that...," Dad clears his throat and glances at my regretfully. "Didn't I tell you? I can't go this weekend. Last-minute trade show in Des Moines."

"But, Dad! You promised!"

"I know, kiddo, but I have to go. We'll go as soon as I get back, though. It won't kill you to wait a week after your birthday, will it?"

My heart sinks. Dad is one of the few people in this city who doesn't work for Ford, Chevy, or GM. He's the Midwestern sales manager for a company that makes medical equipment, like MRI machines and stuff. He always has to be off for a day or two here and there. Especially on weekends.

I can't help sinking back in my chair and sulking. It's official: this is the worst summer of my life. Some Sweet Sixteen.

"If you'd like," Edward says after a minute, "I can take Bella for you this Saturday, Mr. Swan."

I look up, startled, but Edward is looking to my dad. Unfortunately, Dad seems to like his suggestion. "Do you know a lot about cars, son?" he asks Edward.

"I know enough. But I'm really good with salesmen."

"It's true," Esme says, laughing while taking a dainty sip of her wine. "That boy can haggle even the best down to pennies on the dollar."

I groan inwardly. Is there anything that this guy can't do?

Having been a salesman the majority of is life, Dad suddenly has found a kindred spirit in Edward. "That so?" he asks, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed. He looks at my mom questioningly, and she nods enthusiastically.

"I don't see the harm in it," Mom says. "Bella has been so excited about this. She'd probably prefer to go with someone closer to her own age, anyways." She looks to me then. "What do you think, Bella? Can Edward fill your father's shoes this time?"

"I'll make it up to you, Bells," Dad adds. He really does look as if he feels bad about abandoning me.

I sigh. If I say 'no' right now, I'll hurt Dad's feelings and Mom will get mad. Knowing her, I'll get my car when Alex gets her phone back.

"Sure." And then, just because I know my mom is waiting for it, I mumble, "Thanks," to Edward. I don't look up to see whatever smirk is on his face.