Contest entry for the May to December Romance Contest

Title: Run, Rabbit, Run

Rating: M

Summary: I'd travelled 3000 miles, using the distance as a safety blanket. 3000 miles. 50 hours. Turns out, it wasn't far enough.

Disclaimer: The author does not own any publicly recognizable characters herein. No copyright infringement is intended.

Run, Rabbit, Run

The heat welcomed me home with open arms. It pounded against my skin and drained every drop of moisture from my body. It took my tears and made it difficult to think about anything else. Hot air poured through my open window, full of baking asphalt and the sickly sweet smell of orange blossom. The radio blared over the noise of passing trucks, discounts on hardware at Kenny's, live music down at the Low Moon. Names that dug up memories of long summers spent with my parents before the divorce.

I slowed as I passed Dad's garage tucked away between towering maples. Busy at work under hoods, no one saw me drive by, but I saw his beat-up truck with the gilded lettering peeling from its side: Charlie's Motors. I thought about stopping but decided to get myself settled before I had to face a barrage of questions I didn't know the answers to.

The car rumbled down the gravel drive up to the wooden lodge my dad called home and the silver-still lake of his backyard. I dumped my bag on the porch and made my way around the decking, shielding my eyes at the view. It was beautiful and quiet. But the cool breeze lifting off the water brought with it memories that made my knees weak, and it was only when Charlie tapped my shoulder that I realized I was sitting alone in the dark.

Dad pushed open the small window, letting in the scent of the forest and the sound of lapping water. "I hope this is okay. I changed the covers, and there's a closet over there for your things." He pointed to a small wooden door.

"It's great, Dad. Thanks."

I tested the bed, still unable to look him in the eye. His worry felt like a third person had joined us on the tour of his home.

"I'll let you unpack. Then, maybe we can have a talk?"

"Yeah … okay."

"Right." He knocked his knuckles on the doorframe, like he was thinking about saying something else, before leaving me to it.

An old sports bag and a couple of boxes were taking up most of the closet space, so I put my things in a pine dresser. I took my time, hoping he'd fall into routine and be asleep before I made it downstairs. But he hadn't conformed to his normal patterns and was waiting at the table with a cup of coffee.

"You all sorted?"

"Yeah, thanks. You've got a nice place here."

"It suits me. Small and near to the garage. Plus, the lake." He tilted his head to the black expanse outside the windows.

"You never could do enough fishing," I joked, my voice wavering. Seeing Charlie after all these years—the silver creeping through his black hair, the new lines creasing his face—the five-year-old in me wanted to climb into his lap and ask him to take my troubles away. The grown-up in me never wanted him to know what had brought me back to his doorstep.

"It was a selling point of the place." His kind smile stung my eyes, preempting his next question. "So, Bella. I spoke to your mom."

I nodded, ready for his concern and perhaps anger.

"She said you were having a hard time, and … needed a break. She sounded worried about you."

Relief that my mother had kept her promise escaped me in a puff of air. "Yeah, a little. I really appreciate you letting me stay on such short notice."

He rubbed the back of his neck. "Is everything okay? You know you can talk to me, right, kid?"

I felt the tears pushing behind my eyes. I didn't want to cry in front of him. I wanted to forget I had any reason to. "I promise I'm okay. It's nothing, honestly. I just needed a change of scene. College and … stuff." I twisted the conversation around to hide how close he was getting to unravelling me. "And I don't have to stay here. I can get a job, find my own place."

He watched me for a minute, but he didn't press me further. Draining the last bit of coffee, he stood and pressed a kiss onto my head. "Don't be ridiculous, Bella. You're always welcome here." A tear dripped onto the tabletop, expanding and growing across the wood. I covered it with my hand.

"All right, I'm gonna hit the sack. Your old man is getting old. We'll sort everything else out in the morning."

"Night, Dad. And thanks again."

"Stop thanking me. I have a pile of jobs waiting for you at the garage, so you might change your mind by then."

"Sounds good." And it did. The last thing I wanted was to spend time alone, because that's when the demons were at their loudest.

"Oh, I forgot to mention. The boxes in your room, Edward's going to be picking them up tomorrow so you'll have more space."

I was left in the kitchen with the name Edward ringing a bell I couldn't quite hear.

It was around 4 a.m. when I caved in and turned my phone on. Just to see. To reassure myself I was doing the right thing. It was full of the messages and missed calls I'd received on the long drive here, but no new ones. I texted Mom to tell her I'd arrived, and she responded immediately, telling me she loved me, telling me to go to sleep. I promised her I would and told her to go to bed, too. I'd inherited my night-owl tendencies from her. I only found sleep when the sunset tinted the room pink, but it was deep and dreamless.

I woke to laughter and the smell of bacon. Pulling on an old hoodie over my pyjamas, I headed to the kitchen.

I don't know what I expected to find, but the man leaning against the worktop, dressed in garage overalls, did not match the Edward I'd imagined in my head. He was a flash of green eyes under unruly hair, and though laughter had left creases around his eyes, he was younger than I'd expected.

My surprise came out as an "Oh" as Charlie introduced him. He didn't seem to notice my lack of manners.

"Hey." He jerked his chin a little and slid his hands into his pockets. "It's nice to finally meet you. Charlie's told me a lot about you."

I reached for the obvious comeback. "All good, I hope."

"Of course." His smile was hidden as he ducked his head, the gesture almost shy, though he didn't strike me as a wallflower. He was comfortable being here with my dad. I wondered how long he'd been staying. He looked like he belonged. I wondered if he knew I didn't.

He straightened and raked his fingers through his damp hair, revealing his full height. "Do you mind if I grab my stuff from upstairs?"

"Um … sure." I stepped aside and let him pass. He left me with another smile and the scent of his shower gel.

Charlie filled Edward's absence with his plans for the day. My plans, too. He talked as if I had always been around, like he knew me inside out, and for a second, it made me feel like he did. When Edward returned with his boxes, he didn't interrupt, but I was aware of his attention on me as I chatted. It wasn't intrusive, more inquisitive, but I still felt the need to leave the kitchen, so I made my excuses and left.

Showered and dressed an hour later, I was standing outside the garage, waiting for my dad and watching Edward pull apart an old Corvette. He was older than me—nowhere near my parents' age, but he had the look of someone who had been there and got the T-shirt. His movements were controlled, like clockwork. His skin—only tinted with sunshine this morning—was now darkened with a mechanic's badge of oil and grease.

Dad popped his head out of a small office, tucked away at the side of the workshop. "In here, Bells."

Edward looked up at the sound of Charlie's voice and caught me watching him. He tipped his head to the side and raised his brows. "Hey, again."

I muttered out a greeting and headed over to Dad. He was buried under a pile of paperwork. "You're kidding me," I said, eyeing the mountain of boxes.

"Nope. I'm halfway through archiving last year." He threw a pile of unopened letters into an overflowing trash can. "And when I say halfway through, I'm up to March."

I shook my head, flipping through a stack of invoices. "You never were good at math."

"And that's why I need you." He patted my shoulder on the way out. "Shout for me if you need a hand."

By lunch, I'd made it to May. An old PC stood on one of the desks, drawing my attention every so often. My college had been understanding and agreed to transfer or delay my credits, whichever I chose. I'd already contacted a potential college and was planning to drive up to talk to admissions in the next couple of weeks.

Figuring Charlie needed to update his system, I sat down in front of the old machine. I doubted whether it had internet, but a blinking icon assured me it did. Connecting to it was another matter entirely.

I went out into the garage to see if Dad could help. Instead I found Edward, sitting outside and eating his lunch. "Hey, is my dad around?"

Edward looked up, his gaze raking over me while he finished chewing. "No, he's headed into town for a breakdown. You okay?"

I blushed under his attention. "Yeah, just trying to get the computer started. Do you have Wi-Fi here?"

He chuckled and brushed crumbs off his lap. "No, but we do have internet. Problem is, it only works on the second Sunday of every month and no days that include the letter Y."

"Right. That's good, then." I found myself laughing with him, and it felt good after so long without any reason to.

"Come on, let me see if I can get it working." I followed him into the office where he tried and failed to fit his long legs behind the desk. He resorted to half leaning over the boxes, his fingers deftly moving across the keys.

He started to talk while we waited for something to happen. "So, you happy to be back?"

"Yeah. It's good to see my dad. I don't really remember living here, though. Only visiting."

"I like it here." The keys clacked again while he entered passcodes.

"You lived here all your life?"

I almost missed the frown that curved his lips. "No. Only the past five years or so. Since Charlie took me on." But then his smile was back, crooked and charming.

"Took you on?"

It teetered and fell. "Oh, he didn't tell you?"

"We haven't really had much chance to talk yet …" I shrugged, trying to brush it off.

"Hmm." He busied himself with the computer again even though I could see it was working, leaving the unfinished conversation hanging.

I didn't ask the question sitting in the back of my mind, but he easily read it. "I got into some trouble when I was younger. Your dad helped me get back on the straight and narrow."

"He did?"

Edward looked surprised I'd even asked this, opening up my guilt again. "Yeah, he's been running a program for ex-offenders for years. Takes kids in when they've been released or are out on probation. Helps them get a skill and job experience."

I wasn't surprised to hear that, but jealously colored my thoughts when I thought of all the time with my father I'd missed out on. Again, Edward filled in the blanks. "I used to steal cars and other dumb stuff. Stupid shit when I was a kid. I guess it took me a while to grow out of it. Or it took me a while to get caught." His expression held a glint of the delinquent he was describing, but he shook his head, chasing it away. "I've always been good with cars, so I jumped at the chance to join the program and work with your dad. Plus, I needed to get away from everything. It was a fresh start."

He was watching me closely for a reaction, but my face was a blank sheet compared to my mind, which was crammed full of my own reasons for needing to get away. Edward read my lack of response as shock, and began to close down, messing around with the keyboard again. "Shit, I shouldn't have told you that. Charlie would have had his reasons for not telling you about me. It's probably why you never knew about the program, either. I guess he'd want to keep people like me from his kid."

His comments stung more than I should have let them. "It's okay, I'm sure he would have told me eventually … but I won't mention you said anything. Also … I'm not a kid anymore."

His brow furrowed, and he turned his attention from the screen on to me. "I didn't say you were."

The words floated between us as if they were incomplete, waiting for something else to make them clearer, but Edward switched the conversation back to small talk while he showed me how to log on. I found myself wondering what he saw when he looked at me. For months I'd wanted to be invisible, but in his presence, I considered what it would be like to step back into the light.

My email had become a battlefield.

A place where a war was waged and I had no choice but to become a casualty. I'd tried to fight, numerous times, but I didn't have the right weapons. No matter how many barriers I put in the way, Ben found a way to get through.

I drafted an email to the admissions department, all the while trying to ignore the pings or new messages that felt like arrows piercing my composure. I explained that I would call them with new contact details. Then I deleted the account.

It took a few deep breaths before I could go back to sorting through the paperwork. And when it was all tidied away, I allowed myself to feel anger. Anger that he'd already edged his way into my new start, but also that he'd edged the moment with Edward out, too.

It took me a week to get through the archiving. A week of hiding in the office. A week of watching Edward working on cars. I didn't pluck up the courage to speak to him again. Fear slipped under my skin at the idea of opening myself up to another man. It was stronger than any attraction could be.

Charlie and some of the boys, including Edward, were working late, trying to finish an urgent job for a cab firm, so I walked home, jumped in the shower, and shoved on one of dad's old T-shirts before passing out on my bed.

The sharp ring of the house phone snapped me out of sleep, sending my pulse thumping through my veins. Its sound cut off after one ring, but I couldn't control my heartbeat until I knew who'd called. So I crept past Charlie's room, his snores drifting out onto the landing, and went downstairs.

I felt my way through to the front room, unsure of where the light switch was; I focused on the blinking of the answering machine for direction. A rustling noise froze me in place while I searched the dark shadows for its source. I told myself I was imagining things when a shadow loomed next to the couch. Fear hammered a scream out of my chest.

"Shhh, Bella. It's me." A warm hand grabbed on to my arm, but I snatched it back, stepping away and knocking into a table, sending something crashing to the floor. "Hey, hey. It's me, Edward."

He leaned over and picked up the small lamp that had fallen, switching it on. Its glow grew until it revealed him, his hands raising in surrender. "Shit. I didn't mean to scare you.'

When I still didn't respond, he stepped forward and gently took hold of me. His whisper slipped across my cheek. "Hey, are you okay? It's just me." I couldn't concentrate due to the blood pounding in my ears.

Once my eyes had adjusted to the light and to Edward, I instinctively wanted to step further into his arms and the comfort they could offer. But as my senses returned, so did my embarrassment. We were both in a state of undress that would have been totally inappropriate if Charlie had stumbled downstairs, woken by all the noise.

I stepped away and pulled at the hem of my T-shirt as Edward's eyes fell to my bare legs. He realized what he was doing and quickly turned and grabbed his jeans, pulling them over his boxers while I averted my eyes.

"You scared the shit out of me What are you doing here?" I sat down on the couch, tugging the T-shirt lower. He didn't rush to put on a shirt, so I avoided looking at him altogether. Though, as always, he didn't stop looking at me. My legs looked ghastly white, the opposite to his tanned chest, so I curled them under me. "Can you turn that light off?"

He flicked it off and walked over to the window, pushing the curtains back. The moon flooded in, illuminating the hard lines of his body as he joined me on the couch. Its light did little to reduce the uncomfortable situation. It only served to make me more aware of every inch of him so close to me.

"I didn't mean to scare you like that. Charlie said I could crash on the couch." He kept his voice low, a rasping whisper that was hard to hear without leaning into him. "I can't move into my new place until the weekend. I was staying with friends, but their plans changed so …"

"No, it's fine, I just wasn't expecting to see you here, that's all. I heard the phone ring, and I wanted to check that it wasn't my mom," I lied.

"It was a wrong number. Someone asking for John somebody. I didn't want it to wake you."

Relief coursed through me, and I sunk further into the couch, turning to face him. The slight movement brushed my bare leg against his fingers. He moved his hand, but it was still close enough that I felt his heat seeping into my skin.

The whispering and darkness added their sparks to the electricity that hummed in the small space between us. I could smell the familiar rust and oil that would be ingrained in his skin, layered with something more unique that reminded me of rainstorms back home.

"I can leave if you want. Go stay at a motel." He twisted his fingers through his hair, a habit I'd watched him do over and over when he was struggling to fix something.

"No … I want you to stay." It was easy to look him in the eye without the bright lights. I should've turned away when he didn't, but there was something about Edward Cullen that drew me in.

Edward pulled back, muttering something under his breath. The accelerated rise and fall of his chest matched mine, but then he spoke, and his words scattered any potential we might have had back out into the dark. "You should go back to bed."

I didn't say another word as I stood and walked away. Edward was gone by breakfast.

Over the next few days, he worked late and woke early, and I spent nights thinking about him while sleep toyed with me like a cat that only came when you gave up trying to coax it.

I spent the next couple of weeks getting to know the ins and outs of Charlie and the garage. Edward kept his distance, which stung a little, but I was looking for a simple life, and he had complex written all over him. Charlie was driving into the city to visit a supplier and had offered to take me to my admissions appointment on the way. He was on the phone when I came downstairs, and he mouthed he'd be two minutes.

I went outside and sat on the deck, flicking through my transcripts again to check I had everything I needed. The rising sun was already melting away the chill left behind by the night, a sign that the day ahead would be sweltering.

A car rumbled down the drive, sending dust scattering across the lake. I shaded my eyes, recognizing Edward's red Chevy. Charlie appeared, locking up the house behind him. "Hey, Bella, something's come up, and I won't be able to take you today. I called Edward, and he's going to drive you. That okay?"

I clambered to my feet and dusted off my skirt, alarmed at the change of plan. "I can drive myself, it's no problem."

He waved my idea away. "Edward's going to the supplier for me, and you can't drive all that way in your car."

I was speeding down the highway beside Edward before I had the chance to argue. Fields stretched out in front of us: green, empty spaces, as quiet as the inside of the car.

"Can I turn the radio on?" I asked, desperate for something to break the silence that was pressing against every inch of me.

"Sure." He reached over and flicked the dial; some old rock song drowned out the purr of the engine. "You can change it to whatever you want."

"This is fine." I slipped off my flats and pulled one of my legs under me to put a little more space between us. His presence was so quiet and yet consuming. I cracked the window a little, too, heat collecting under my dark hair.

"Do you have AC?" I asked.

He accompanied his "Sure" this time with the beginnings of a smile.

I twisted my hair to the side and turned the blowers on me. "Can you turn this up any more? It's giving out hot air."

He shook his head. "It's packing up. I need a new expansion valve. You're probably better off having the windows open." He wound his own down, too, blowing my hair all over the place. I gave up and dug out a tie from my bag to put it up.

"Aren't you supposed to be a mechanic?" Nerves mixed with the heat—plus the brooding company—had put me on edge.

He gave me a look, raising his brows above green eyes that shamed the scenery behind him. "I could've fixed it, but I've been a little busy with work. Plus, I wasn't planning on going on any long trips, so it wasn't at the top of my agenda."

"Oh, right … sorry," I replied, but I'm pretty sure my voice was drowned out by the wind and radio.

The breeze turned its attention to my skirt, fluttering it up my thighs. I held it down to keep a little dignity. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Edward's eyes dart to the movement of the fabric, lingering a second or two before they were back on the road.

I looked back to the blur of countryside, thankful the window was open so he couldn't see the smile that would've reflected back at him.

We continued the rest of the journey in the same vein—with small talk and intensifying tension. Only it'd flipped from agitation to something that would have been mouth-watering if I could have reached out and tasted it.

Mrs. Cope had the look of an aged beauty queen without any of the charm. Her manner was abrupt, as if I was wasting her time, and as I tried to run through my grades and transcripts, her attention was short and fixated on picking lint from her cashmere cardigan or adjusting her pearls.

"Thank you, Miss Swan. We have already received your files."

"So you have everything you need to make a decision?"

"We do." She closed the folder in front of her and collected her hands together. "There is something that has come to our attention since we discussed your transfer on the phone."

The draft from the air conditioning travelled the length of my body, and I held in a shiver, hearing her next words before she spoke them.

"Your grades are very good, as we've seen, but there's something that concerns us with regard to your disciplinary record."

I felt as fragile as a house of cards despite weeks of believing I was rebuilding my life with solid bricks. "Please. allow me to explain."

She held up her hand to quiet me. "I have read everything I need to know. It's not our place to put you through another investigation, but our college is built on years of reputation, and fraternization with teaching staff is prohibited. We take these matters extremely seriously, Miss Swan."

"It was a misunderstanding. I was cleared of the accusations," I replied, but my explanation held as much weight as the piece of paper bearing Ben's lies.

She gave me one final look filled with disapproval. "Thank you for visiting us. I will have to run the final decision past the board, then we will contact you shortly."

I slid into Edward's car, angling my body so he couldn't see the strain in my face.

"Everything okay?"

"Yep, thanks." I limited my words, scared the ones that told my story might slip out, lured by his kindness.

Whether he sensed my mood or had his own reasons for staying quiet, he didn't press me. Perhaps we were both focused on the view—seeing things that weren't really there.

As we drew closer to town, I pulled myself into the present. "Thanks for driving me today. I really appreciate it," I offered.

"It's no big deal." He glanced over at me as he shifted the stick into gear and turned onto the main road to town. "So, did you get accepted?"

I felt the stress retighten the muscles in my neck. "I have to wait on a decision."

"I thought it was in the bag?"

I shrugged, but instead of getting the message I wasn't going to expand on it, he turned to me while we waited at a red light.

"You sure you're okay?"

I couldn't handle the thought of him knowing what had happened, so my barriers snapped up again. "Look, I'm fine. Just tired, that's all."

He ignored my rudeness, searching my face for a clue. They were there for him to find if he looked hard enough. "Bella, I know we haven't exactly been friendly—"

I tried to lighten the moment with a laugh, but it was hollow. "You think?"

"It made sense in my head, but now I guess it's hard to explain why I've been avoiding you. I think … well, it's just not a good idea for you to get to know me."

"And who made you in charge?"

He gritted his teeth, his jaw flexing under a 5 o'clock shadow as the light turned green. "I'm thirty-two. I'm older than you."

"By what, thirteen years? That means nothing."

"It means I need be responsible. I owe it to Charlie to look after you. Staying away is the best I can do."

"You think you're protecting me by doing that?"

"Yes. I do."

"You have no idea what I need protecting from." My words offered him a chance in, but he missed the opening, as he was so blinded by the thought that he was the risk.

"It's not just that. I have a good reputation now, and I've worked hard for it, but there's still some people who see me for what I used to be. You don't need to be involved in their gossip."

I heard a car approaching, but he didn't react. "You think people will judge me for talking to you?"

He didn't answer me straight away, and though the sun had lost its grip on the day, the intention in his eyes was fierce.

"It's not that."

"Then, what?"

He ran his hands down his face and tipped his head back against the seat, ignoring the blare of a horn as an irritated motorist swerved around us. "It's just … I've heard so much about you over all the years. Seen pictures, even … but I never expected you would be like this."

"What do you mean?"

He slapped his hands down on the wheel. "Jesus, Bella, do I have to spell it out for you?"

"Yes."

He turned his intensity on to me, my whole body flatlining as I waited for him to speak.

"You're fucking beautiful."

I panicked.

I panicked because I wanted him.

I panicked because I couldn't have him.

But mostly I panicked because I'd heard those words before.

I was out of the car before he could stop me.

Some people were masters of disguise, and some of us were easily fooled.

It started with those words, whispered into my ear during a snowstorm. His hot breath made me shiver, but I took it as a sign of attraction rather than a warning.

We met at a frat party. Made eyes at each other across the room. His were an icy blue, the edge to his boy-next-door looks, but sometimes they were colorless. It took me a while to realize this meant his kindness had faded away, too.

Music poured out of the old jukebox at the Low Moon—free picks on account of the celebration. Harry Clearwater had turned sixty. I didn't really remember him, but I remembered his bushy beard and his booming voice waking me up at the crack of dawn when he and my dad would go fishing, hiking, or a hundred other activities.

I was perched on a stool at the corner of the bar, twisting the straw from my water and people watching. The festivities were in full swing, with drinks flowing and explosions of laughter accompanying the hum of a good time. Everyone had stopped to say hello—with the exception of Edward. We hadn't talked since I'd run from his car, but I couldn't get his words out of my head. I couldn't keep my eyes off him, either.

He was leaning against a pool table in all black jeans and shirt, beer bottle in hand as he talked to his friends. I was able to pick out his laugh from everyone else's. It was the only one that sent my heart racing, tripping over itself when he'd glance over at me.

I was working my way up to talking to him when a group of women poured into the bar, their loud voices and short skirts drawing the attention of every man there. They didn't take any notice of me, and it wasn't long before their gossip turned to whispers and their attention turned to Edward. The confident redhead broke away from the group and made her way over to him. When his friends spotted her weaving through the crowd toward them, they split, leaving Edward standing on his own.

His face was hard to read, but they exchanged a kiss from which she didn't step back, painting a history between them which my imagination was quick to color. She pressed her body close to him; every tiny movement screamed possession. I shifted in my seat, uncomfortable and filled with unexpected jealousy. He had to duck down to hear her over the music. Their heads remained bowed, her hands too familiar as she whispered in his ear until I couldn't watch any longer.

I thought about hiding out in the restroom, but slipped outside an open back door instead, drawn by the stars and the fresh air.

"Hey! You're Bella Swan, aren't you?" a boy I recognised as Harry's son called over to me. He was sitting around a bench at the forest-edge of the parking lot with a group of friends. We were a similar age, but Seth had grown into his gangly limbs and awkward teeth since the last time I'd seen him.

"Hey, Seth. Long time no see," I said, waving as he introduced the rest of the group. "What you doing out here?"

"Having a little party of our own." He winked and waved a bottle half-hidden in a paper bag at me. "You want some?"

I didn't hesitate, wanting something to take the bitter taste of jealousy away. The straight vodka burned the back of my throat and made my eyes water, but I didn't flinch away from it, as I swallowed another gulp.

He lit up a cigarette, holding out the pack to me. "Wanna smoke?" I shook my head, taking another swig of the liquor and handing it to a blonde girl I think he said was Lucy or maybe Bree.

He shuffled up the bench, making room for me to sit. "So where've you been all my life." He grinned again, his dimples cute enough that he could get away with murder.

"Where to start," I joked and then made up a story that wouldn't dampen our night.

I lost track of time in the bottle of liquor, and when I stood, I realized I'd lost my balance, too.

"You all right there?" Seth reached out to steady me.

"Yeah, I'll be fine, but I better head back in before Dad sends out a search party. Thanks for the drink."

"Anytime," he called out to me as I crossed the lot, narrowly dodging a car which pulled out of the space right across my path. "And don't be a stranger!"

Finally making it to the bathroom, I cringed at my pale face in the mirror. I ran my fingers through my hair and tried to shake off the lingering effects of the vodka. I needed to play sober to tell my dad I was going home.

Composed as much as I could manage, I walked out of the door and straight into Edward, grabbing on to his wrist to steady myself. He didn't laugh at my clumsiness. "Where have you been?"

His sudden interest and attitude pissed me off. "Outside to get some fresh air."

I let go and brushed past him, but he caught my elbow. "Have you been drinking?"

"Why?"

He sighed. "Look, I was worried, that's all. You disappeared."

"I'm surprised you noticed. You seemed a little … occupied."

"You should have let someone know you were leaving." He smoothly switched subjects, but I still had my head buried in the last one.

"Just to keep you up to date, I left the bar over an hour ago, so either you're shit at hide-and-seek, or you only just noticed."

We had to move aside for two women stumbling to the bathrooms. It pushed us uncomfortably close together.

He lowered his voice as more people passed by. "I thought you'd gone to the restroom."

I widened my eyes at him. "Really? For an hour."

"Bella—"

"Edward … it really doesn't matter. I'm back now, and I'm going home, so you can get back to your friends."

"Whatever you're thinking, you're wrong."

The way he stood and looked at me—too close for someone who claimed they wanted to be a stranger—was sending me mixed messages I didn't have the energy to decode. "It doesn't matter what I think. I'm going to find Dad."

I found him hogging the jukebox, and even though he'd selected the whole Rolling Stones' back catalog, he offered to take me home. We were barely out the door when Edward swooped in and said he was leaving and would see me home safely, knowing I couldn't say a word to him in front of my father.

I was torn between the thrill of being alone with him and the frustration with his behavior. It was easier to shut down than let him in.

We drove in silence, and as he followed me to the front door, the only sound was the gravel underfoot and the frustration filling my mind. It spilled over, and I spun around, stalking across the few steps he'd left between us until our faces were inches apart. "What exactly is it that you want?"

He remained mute, shoving his hands in his pockets. I slapped my hands down against my sides and looked up to the dark sky. "You told me to stay away, and then—"

"I didn't say that."

"You said it in enough words."

He took another step closer, making me tilt my chin out stubbornly so I could meet his eyes. "No, I didn't."

"You can't mess around with me like this. It's not fair."

"I know."

"Then you need to make a decision. You want me or you don't."

He took another step, so close I had to take a step back so I wouldn't be pressed against him. His lips began to curve into a smile as he took another and another until I felt the rough wood of the house against my back. I pushed against his chest, but there was little energy in my effort. The warmth from his skin bled through his shirt, bringing with it his heartbeat, thumping against mine. He reached up and thread his fingers through my hair, his thumb tracing the edge of my jaw, settling on my lips.

Edward ducked his head, leaving millimeters between our lips that felt like miles. His breath hit my mouth, but all he did was pull away, the cool night rushing in and taking his place.

He left me beneath the porch light, cheeks flushed and heart falling. "Good night, Bella."

Edward was halfway to his car as I fumbled to get my key in the lock, but as I leaned on the door, it opened.

Fear erased the past few seconds and drew my worst nightmare. I called out to him, cracked and panicked—he was by my side before its echo had disappeared. "What's wrong?''

I shook my head, pointing to the door. "It's open, and I definitely locked it when I left. I'm sure I did."

"Wait here." He gently pushed me to the side, his hand leaving a trace of warmth on my skin that disappeared too soon.

Every second that passed was a step my mind climbed. The lights flared in the house room by room; eventually, the place was ablaze and Edward appeared to lead me through the doorway. He reassured me there was no one inside, and so I began to doubt that I'd locked the door correctly, feeling foolish. He didn't see it that way.

"I'll stay here until your dad gets back." His face was soft and filled with concern. "You can go to bed if you want. You're safe."

I nodded, my eyelids heavy with more than liquor and tiredness. "Thank you." I only made it two steps before I turned, letting go of my stubbornness to better hold on to the small sliver of hope he'd once promised. "You didn't really answer me before … do you …" Embarrassment drowned out the rest of my question.

He walked over to the bottom of the stairs, seeking out my eyes and my hand. When he spoke, there wasn't any mistaking the fierce truth in his face. "I want you, Bella. Never doubt that."

"But you didn't kiss me."

His voice dipped, sinking into my skin. "You've been drinking. I won't take advantage of you like that."

Pressing a kiss to my cheek, he left me and took up his spot on the couch. I climbed the remaining stairs with anticipation bubbling through my veins.

It began to dissolve some of the fear Ben had left behind.

His words had had the power to make me the happiest girl alive.

Until they chipped away at my smile, and it crumbled along with the rest of me.

You're fucking beautiful.

You take my breath away.

I don't want to be without you.

I love you.

Let's do something together. Just us.

Maybe you should wear something else.

I don't feel like going out.

You shouldn't do that anymore.

I don't want to share you.

Do you really think you look good in that?

Nobody will care if you don't turn up.

Where have you been?

Who have you been calling?

She's no good for you.

I don't want you to talk to him.

I don't want you to talk.

Don't be so stupid.

You're nothing without me.

I'm sorry.

Who the fuck is he?

I love you.

You'll regret you ever lied to me.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I love you so much.

You're a fucking whore.

I'm sorry.

You'll regret that.

I love you.

If he comes near you again, I'll kill him.

Edward rolled out from under a car, oil smeared on his face, as I walked to the office. He stood and wiped his hands with a rag. "Hey. Everything okay up at the house?"

"Yeah. It's fine. I think I was overreacting." I shrugged, still feeling kind of embarrassed. "Thanks for staying."

"I wouldn't have left you. You were pretty spooked." He looked like he had a lot more to say, but Charlie called him over to look under a hood, so he promised to speak later and reluctantly walked away.

Around noon, he knocked on the office door, sticking his head in. "Will you be working late tonight?"

"Uh, I wasn't planning to. Why?"

"I was thinking maybe you should. There's a lot we need to catch up on. Ordering parts, paperwork … stuff." The edge of his lips tilted into a smile that lit up his eyes.

I played right back into his hands. "Oh, damn. I was planning on washing my hair. Sorry."

"Technically, I'm your superior, so I think you should try to keep me happy, don't you?" He winked and disappeared into the sunshine.

The end of the day couldn't come quick enough. We exchanged glances and smiles, back and forth. He teased and flirted—comments whispered under his breath every time we passed. When I knew we were the only two left, I busied myself waiting for him, but the minutes ticked by undisturbed. I pulled the blind down and looked across the garage. Most of the bays were darkened, with the exception of one on the far side, still illuminated by the overhead light. I chewed on my lip, debating whether it would appear too keen if I sought him out.

His tools were still out, a sign he hadn't left. "Edward?" I called out again but was met with silence. The walk back to the bright safety of the office suddenly seemed foreboding, but then the phone rang, forcing me to go.

As I passed through the darkest part of garage, something touched my shoulder. I yelped and veered away from it.

"Jesus, Bella." Edward materialized from one of the bays with a wrench in his hand. The call rang off to answering machine.

"You've got to stop scaring the shit out of me." I whacked him across the arm.

He laughed, shaking his head. "I don't mean to. You shouldn't be so jumpy. I told you I would be working late."

"I know, but I was calling you, and there was no answer."

He pointed to the headphones dangling around his neck. "Sorry, I was just about to finish up and come and find you."

"Oh, right. Well I'll go and wait back in the office, then."

"No. Come and keep me company, I won't be long. You can tell me why you're such a scaredy cat."

I tried to laugh as I followed him over to the car, but it was brittle, cracking before he could hear it.

He noticed and turned around with a familiar look, his features creased, like he'd had too much time to think about me, and things weren't adding up. "I'm only kidding, but you know … if there is something …"

I shook my head and forced a smile he would believe.

Edward finished the job quickly and packed away his tools while I perched on the counter that ran the length of the garage. Then he flicked off the light switch, plunging us into darkness.

He drew closer until I felt the heat from his body shielding me from the cold seeping in from outside. "Umm … Edward? I can't see anything."

"I can see perfectly." His hand brushed the side of my face, his fingers tilting my chin to face him. "I've been wanting to do this all day." His words kissed my lips first as his hands ran up the outside of my jeans, coming to rest on my hips.

His kiss was soft, questioning, and I answered by twisting my fingers in the soft cotton of his T-shirt. The longer he kissed me, the harder I gripped, pulling him closer between my legs. His hands found their way in next, sliding under my clothes and over my skin. His kisses going deeper, reaching to pull out moans I gave away freely.

He tasted like nothing I'd ever tasted before and felt like everything I could ever want. The only thing I needed—and I couldn't get enough.

We stayed in the dark for hours, until the phone rang again and then again, until I began to worry it was Charlie. The last thing either of us needed was him to stumble in on us, so we stopped to catch our breaths and straighten our clothes before Edward dropped me home.

That night, I stood in front of my mirror with the memory of Edward glowing under my skin. I found evidence of his kisses everywhere: flushed cheeks, swollen lips, and fingerprints; a thumb at the edge of my smile; my ribs peppered with smudges; more dotted along my throat, my stomach—a path of them along my spine. If we'd committed a crime, there'd be no question who'd stolen my breath.

We thought we were innocent. At least in our eyes.

The catalyst was an English professor. A kind and generous man. A married man. He'd persuaded me to enter my work into a national competition and offered me his expertise.

Every second in his presence was innocent, but they were twisted by jealousy into something much more serious.

I hadn't known what Ben was planning, but I should have seen the signs. The arguments, the invasion into my phone, the emails, the visits out of the blue.

No reassurances could tame the version of us that grew like vines, suffocating his reason.

He set out to destroy. One piece at a time. The professor's wife. His job. His reputation.

It never occurred to him that he was hurting the person he claimed to love the most, ruining my reputation, too.

I became a cheating, family-wrecking whore.

He, the heartbroken lover.

Who would believe a word I said?

No one.

We sneaked around like teenagers. I was about to step out of my teens, but Edward had leaped years past his, and the secrecy was starting to wear on him.

"So … your dad invited me over for a barbeque tonight." He handed me half of his turkey sub.

"Yeah, he mentioned he would."

"Would I be the first boyfriend he's met?"

I dipped my feet into the mirror-still lake, deflecting my answer. "Is that what you are?"

He shook his head and smiled, cracking open a can of pop. "So, am I?"

"What?"

"The first your dad would have met?" He was fishing in dangerous waters.

"Yeah … I wasn't really into boys when I was five," I joked.

"Huh." He ran his hand over the back of his neck, all the way up to his hair. "So … you leave someone special back at home?"

I focused on the water, not daring to look at him. "No. What's with all the questions?"

"Just wondering."

"What about you?"

"Nah, no one special … yet."

We swapped stories of bad dates and failed relationships. He told me how he couldn't get rid of the redhead I'd seen in the bar, an ex from his first year in town, joking she was a stalker. He had no idea.

On the walk back to the garage, Edward slipped into silence. He walked faster, the gap between us was widening until he stopped, waiting for me. His brow furrowed as I caught up. "Bella … I know we're not telling your dad about us tonight, but I … he's done a lot for me. More than my own parents. And if he found out about us before I had the balls to talk to him, he'd be so disappointed in me."

We'd been over this before, and I knew it was the situation with Ben that was stalling me in defining what Edward and I were. I hadn't shaken off the last label yet, and I wanted to tell Charlie everything, but he needed to know about Ben before I told him about Edward. And I wasn't ready for that.

"I know, and we will tell him. Soon. I promise." I lifted onto my tiptoes, distracting him with a kiss.

I left Edward and Dad downstairs and made my way to bed. It had been a night full of good food, laughter, and stolen kisses.

But then I made the mistake of turning on my phone to text Mom. The voicemail icon blinked.

Thinking of the decision from the admissions department, I listened to the message. But it was Ben's voice, and not Mrs. Cope's, that invaded my space. I dropped the phone in shock, horrified he'd gotten my new number. I struggled to catch my breath, scrambling to pick the phone back up and silence the familiar lilt of his voice. I cut off the message before he could finish, but I'd heard enough to knock the air out of me.

A good luck message for my new college application.

I lay on the top of my quilt as a panic attack crashed over me. I'd suffered enough to know how to deal with them, to tell myself I wasn't suffocating, that my heart wouldn't fail. I wasn't dying; though, it felt that way every time. I thought about my mom's voice as she told me to breathe, long and slow. That I was going to be okay. That she loved me.

It stopped after a while, but it was enough to make me realize I couldn't do it anymore. I couldn't carry the weight. It would crush me.

As soon as I heard Charlie turn in for the night, I crept downstairs. Though my legs shook, I managed to reach the couch where Edward was sleeping. The room was lit with the glow of the TV.

I shook him awake gently. "Edward?"

He woke with a smile, but it fell when he saw the tears sliding down my cheeks. Sitting up, he pushed the covers aside and reached out for me. "What happened?"

I shook my head, sobs building in my chest. His eyes raked over me to see if I was hurt, finding nothing. The damage inflicted was invisible. "Bella, you're freaking me out. Is everything okay?"

"I … I need to talk to you." The words were choking me. I'd kept them in for so long they'd grown too big to voice.

He took my hand, and I crawled in next to him as he wrapped us both up. With my face pressed into his chest and his arms circling me like a steel band, I knew he could hold me together if I broke.

"I can't do it anymore."

I pulled back so I could look at him, keeping one hand against his thumping heart. I measured my shuddering breaths against its beat until I could speak again.

"I didn't tell you the truth about why I came to town."

He didn't look surprised.

"I was trying to get away from someone … someone who was making my life hell."

"A boyfriend?"

"Yes. I met him at college, and at first … it was perfect, you know? When you're in the first stages and everything seems like it's meant to be. But then something changed. I don't know if it was something I did or—"

"It wasn't you, Bella."

I shrugged. "No, maybe not, but we went from being so happy, to arguing constantly. It was stupid stuff at first, but then it changed. He had issues with everything I did or said, who I'd been talking to and what I was wearing. I thought at first he was just being jealous. We can all get a little like that when we really like someone. But then it seemed like he was purposely starting fights and trying to hurt me. He was subtle so that when he built it up so much, I began to believe him. I was so stupid."

"No, you weren't. He was controlling you. And sometimes it's hard to tell what's happening when you're in the middle of it." He squeezed my knee to encourage me to carry on.

"I started avoiding my friends and spending all my time with him, even though they told me they were concerned by the change in me and some of his behavior. He was often rude, but then when I confronted him about it, it was always everyone else's fault. I thought I loved him, so I let a lot of things go to keep us happy." I didn't like to admit I loved Ben, especially not to Edward, who my feelings grew for every minute I was with him, but I needed him to understand why I couldn't see clearly.

We stayed in silence for a few minutes, Edward's finger tracing circles on my wrist. He spoke first, and I heard the anger wrapping around his voice. "Did he hurt you?"

"No, he never laid a hand on me."

Relief relaxed his features a little.

"He is very clever, Edward. He'd never hurt me physically. He wouldn't argue with me in public, or even over text. So when I had to go to the police—"

"What the fuck did he do?"

I had to shush Edward before my dad was woken by his rage.

When he'd calmed down, I told him about the professor and the alleged affair. I laid out the things Ben called me, things I'd never even told my mom. Though I could see the disgust and anger building in Edward, he remained calm, and in turn, that kept me talking. I couldn't stop once I'd pierced a hole in the bad memories; they deflated as I shared them with Edward until I felt I could breathe easier.

I let him listen to the voicemail I'd received that night, and see the texts and emails that had clogged up my inbox.

"He's behaving as if you're still together, as if you still love him."

"He's playing a game with me."

"He's fucking crazy, Bella. I swear if he contacts you again—" I leaned up and pressed my lips to his, not being able to stand the thought of Ben and Edward meeting.

"What did the police do?"

"Nothing. They took notes or whatever, and they did listen to me, but I was this untrustworthy person who'd been caught having a fake affair with her professor, so when they interviewed Ben, he gave a sob story. How I was bitter at being caught, trying to get back at him for outing us. I had nothing else to give them. No evidence, no injuries. Just my word against his."

"But surely now he's moved on to stalking, they'll do something. Does he know where you live now?"

Horror shuddered through me. "I don't know?"

"Well, he at least knows about your new school. Did he know about Charlie?"

"He did, but we never visited. He won't have his new address."

"But his old one?"

I pictured my room, my belongings strewn across the floor when he'd heard I was leaving. "He could've found it."

"Then we need to go to the police. At least so they're aware of it. I know some of the boys down there. I can make sure they take you seriously this time."

I climbed into his lap, curling against him until the heat of his body chased away the chills that had filled mine.

The police took Ben's details and put an APB out. I hadn't heard from him in days, but that didn't mean much. It was just another move in his game with me.

Dad was away for the weekend, visiting a trade show, so I was helping Edward paint his apartment. I'd still not broached the subject of Edward with Dad, nor had I spoken to him about Ben. I wasn't sure why I was waiting. He would react as Edward did, giving me another layer of safety, but deep down, I was ashamed with myself for falling for someone like that. I was afraid to show him how weak I had been. I was afraid to tell him how long I'd kept the secret from him. And so time ticked by, and I remained silent, stuck in a vicious cycle.

We finished painting the kitchen a dusky shade of blue and sat on the dust sheets, sharing a pizza. Edward handed me a beer, "Don't tell your Dad."

I laughed, motioning around us. "So, we almost done?"

Edward surveyed the room, still full of boxes he'd been slow to unpack, spending all his time with me. "This room's done, but I might need your services elsewhere."

I raised an eyebrow at him. "I'm available, but I'll charge you."

"How do you accept payment?" He slid the pizza box out of the way.

"What've you got?" I asked, heat beginning to spread through me the closer he came. His eyes took the time to remember the curve of my lips, the color of my eyes, the shy smile and blush I reserved for these moments.

"How about this?" His voice was rusty and it scraped over my skin. He brushed his lips across my cheek, pausing at the corner of my mouth, where I felt the curve of his smile.

"I'm sorry, I don't think the payment went through. Have you got anything else?"

"Try this." His kisses returned, this time longer and deeper until I melted back onto the sheets. He balanced on his elbows above me, a groan escaping as he slowly rested his weight, pushing my legs apart.

"I'm not sure," I said quietly. "Can you do it again?" He dropped his head, and I pressed my face into his neck. The acrid smell of paint was replaced with Edward's salty skin and rainstorms.

Then he rocked his hips and kick-started my pulse. The air shifted as his hands wrapped around my ribs, his tongue leaving a hot trail down my throat, along my collarbone. A whimper was all I had left. I slipped my hand under his shirt, splaying my fingers on his chest, his skin hot against mine.

Edward stilled and lifted his head, his eyes asking questions my body was screaming the answers to. "I don't know if I can stop."

I shook my head, pulling him down to me, my breath ragged. "Don't … please, don't."

As he pulled his shirt over his head, I sat up and pressed my lips to the hard lines of his ribs, the center of his chest, feeling its firm muscles under my fingertips. He helped me remove my tank, laying me back as he slipped down my shorts and panties and then grabbed a condom. Shyness joined me while he removed his jeans.

He was everywhere: the flicker of his eyelashes against my neck, the drag of his stubble against my skin, the grip of his fingers around my ribcage, and the wet warmth of his mouth against my breast. My body arched to his like a magnet, and he never broke eye contact as he pushed inside, so excruciatingly slow, his body shaking with the effort of holding back. "Shit, Bella. I can't … you …"

He lost his words, and I lost my mind. And then he started moving.

Every touch exploded along my nerve endings, each inch of my skin alive with electricity. My heart pounded so loudly I was sure his neighbors could hear.

It was too much and not enough. Hot and slick, our skin sticking and sliding, hands and mouths leaving their marks as he pushed deeper and I rose higher. My nails dug into the back of his neck, trying to hold on, but then he twisted and flipped me over the edge, until my throat was hoarse and my body shuddered with the aftershocks.

The words we whispered were ours. They were new and full of everything we could have together.

For so many years, I'd let words tear holes in me, but Edward's promises filled the jagged scars, and in his arms, I began to heal.

I'd travelled 3000 miles, using the distance as a safety blanket.

3000 miles.

50 hours.

Turns out, it wasn't far enough.

The heat pounded down on my head as I tried to read. After a long week at the garage and late nights spent with Edward, I could feel my eyelids drooping. I gave up and let the sun and the lake lull me to sleep.

I had no idea how long I'd been dozing, when I jolted awake, my heart racing from a dream. Midges were beginning to circle, so I gathered my things and headed back to the house.

As I drew closer, I could see someone sitting on the steps leading up to the back door, shaded by the eaves. I wasn't expecting Dad or Edward, and my worry solidified into fear as the figure rose and took two steps onto the gravel. My throat closed up, panic scrambling to get out. I looked around for an escape, but there was only the water.

I took a step back and Ben smiled.

"Bella." He ambled over to me, calm and collected. "You're looking well."

"What are you doing here?" I clutched tightly on to my book, thinking of my cellphone on the bed upstairs.

"I came to see you," he said, as if I was being stupid. "Aren't you pleased to see me?"

"How did you find me?" My breath was coming in short bursts.

"Come on, don't be like that." His smile made me shiver. He looked different, his blond hair a little longer and more disheveled. Usually clean-shaven, a layer of golden stubble made him look older. To anyone else, he would have been undeniably handsome.

"You should go. My Dad will be home any minute."

"No, he won't."

I began to shake. "What did you do?"

"Now, don't get upset. All I meant is that I saw him. He's at the garage. Told me he's going to be on a late one. We've actually got a lot in common. It's a shame you didn't introduce us earlier."

"You stay the fuck away from him," I spat, my mind reeling and going into freefall when I remembered Edward—the only person who could recognize Ben—was not there. "What do you want?"

He laughed, a sound that set my teeth on edge. "You, of course."

I took an instinctive step back. "Ben, we're over. How could you even think—"

"Is it because of the mechanic?" His face had twisted into disgust.

"What?"

"Edward. Isn't that his name?"

I couldn't find an answer.

"I'm kind of disappointed in you. I thought you had better taste."

"I'm not doing this with you." I went to move past him, but he grabbed my elbow, spinning me around.

"He's no good for you," he warned, his eyes narrowing, their blue slipping away.

"No, you're no good for me." I tried to keep my voice calm, removing anything for him to fight against. "Let me go. Please."

"I can't do that." He reached up and tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear. "I've missed you so much."

I flinched away from his touch. "Don't fucking touch me."

The softness of his expression hardened into ice.

"I hate you, Ben. Are you so stupid that you can't see that? I hate you. I want you to stay the hell away from me and from Edward."

He froze at the mention of Edward.

He let me take a few steps—let me taste the relief of freedom—before his fingers were in my hair. He wrenched me back, the pain burning my scalp as I stumbled and smashed down onto the dirt.

"I've dealt with that criminal. You don't need to concern yourself with him anymore." I struggled to get up, the metalic taste of blood filling my mouth, but he loomed over me, holding me down.

"No … please. Just leave me alone." I scrambled backward, gravel biting into my hands as he reached down, his fingers wrapping around my throat.

"You're mine, Bella. No one else's." His face softened as if he was finally appeased, his hand choking the life out of me as my vision clouded and my lungs felt ready to burst.

I ripped at his hold, refusing to give up, fighting him even as my strength suffocated. I fought to keep my eyes open, but they began to flutter shut, losing their fight.

Shouting and the sickening thud of fists against flesh seemed far away. The shrill wail of sirens grew louder, and there was a voice I clung on to with all my hope.

Edward.

I sat in the reception of the police station, my fingers gripping on to the blue plastic chair until my knuckles turned white. Officers walked past me, some offering a smile, others too busy going about their business.

Edward was being interviewed, and somewhere in the depths of the station, Ben was in a holding cell. I tried to sip the sweet tea one of the female officers had brought me, but my hands were too shaky, and it spilled.

My eyes were drawn to two doors: the one Edward would appear from and the other leading out to the parking lot. Finally, the latter opened and Dad rushed in, his face aged with worry as he looked around for me.

I called him and he raced over, pulling me into a strong embrace. I hugged him back harder, tears darkening the front of his overalls.

He held me at arm's length. "What the hell happened?" His eyes found the red marks circling my neck, the bloody scrapes on my arms and knees.

"I'm so sorry, Dad." I hiccuped out the words.

He shook his head. "Come on. Let's sit down first." He led me back to the bank of chairs, sitting next to me.

When he took my hand in his, I told him everything I should have the moment I arrived here.

He remained tight-lipped all the way through, a grunt here and there, a squeeze to my hand.

"So, you see now, why I'm sorry." I dropped my head, focusing on the cracked linoleum, feeling the shame I'd tried so hard to avoid.

"Bella, I am furious." His voice was grave and I winced. I lifted my head to see my eyes reflected back at me—they were soft and swimming with tears. "I'm furious you didn't think you could talk to me. And I'm furious with myself for not noticing the signs." He ran his hand over his face.

"Dad. It wasn't your fault. I hid it all from you."

"And your mom. She knows?"

"Yes, but I asked her not to tell you."

He looked like he was going to explode, but then his attention turned back to the wound around my neck, and it deflated him. "We can have this talk another day. I'm just glad you're safe. And Edward … is he okay?"

"They're interviewing him now. Dad, he … I don't know what would've happened it he hadn't turned up when he did." The shock of the past few hours was a shiver I couldn't shake, its steel band tightening across my shoulders. I reached up and kneaded the back of my neck as a dull throb began to run under my scalp. I'd hardly had a second to talk to Edward, both of us being treated by EMTs before he'd been taken to the station first. I had seen the cuts to his face, the swollen lip, and the way he'd limped as he walked. Guilt at inflicting pain on the people I cared about was growing like a weed, wrapping around my heart.

"Well, then I owe Edward my gratitude."

I remembered Edward's plea at the lake. "There's something else I need to tell you."

He turned to me, apprehension furrowing his brow. I hoped it wouldn't tip him over the edge.

"It's about Edward … and me." I hesitated, ready for more anger.

I'd never have expected the relief that relaxed his features.

"I wondered when you'd get to that."

"You knew?" I tried to think of a time we'd been too obvious with our feelings.

"I'm not a complete idiot, Bella. I was young once." He tried to smile, but it'd been a long day.

"So, you're okay with it?"

He sighed and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close. "I wish you'd done a lot of things differently since coming to stay with me, but falling for Edward isn't one of them."

Ben had underestimated Edward.

As Edward had gotten behind the wheel of his car, he'd felt the change. His skill as a mechanic meant he could notice the smallest difference. He'd managed to slow the out-of-control car enough, that the impact into a towering maple was as superficial as his injuries.

It could have killed him had he not noticed.

It had taken one look at the partially cut wiring to know it had been tampered with.

It had only taken one breath to know who was responsible.

One second to make the decision to find me.

Ben was charged, the list growing longer as he lost more control.

The offence of stalking would involve many gruelling interviews with me, but for the first time, I had a voice.

A storm was swirling in from the south, its winds whispering through the trees and disturbing the lake. Edward found me in our place, my face turned to the last chink of sunlight, ready to brave any storm.

He sat down beside me, his face fully healed with the exception of one silvery scar that added another dimple to his smile. "Look what came for you."

He handed me an envelope that bore the seal of my new college. A different one, where no one knew anything about my past.

"You're not going to open it?" He covered my hand with his, curling his fingers.

"I will … soon."

"You know Charlie's got a bottle of champagne to celebrate, and some steaks. We should head back."

I thought of the newspaper spread across the table at breakfast, a small story that had made the trauma of reliving my life with Ben worthwhile. I tilted my head up to the sky, feeling the first drops of rain against my skin. I let go of the bad memories and regrets. I let the dark skies take them away, knowing that when the sunshine returned, I had everything I needed right here. The stocic, beautiful man by my side, my family and a future without shadows.

"We're gonna get soaked," Edward laughed, tugging on my hand.

"I know." I took his face in my hands, my heart full, and kissed him as the skies above us opened.

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