Dine&Dash Chap12 (Part 2)

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, quotes, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners and are simply used under 'fair use'. The original characters and plot are the property of the KittyTylz author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement intended. This story is written for the legally recognized adult population. 

Dine and Dash

*~*~* Chapter Twelve - "Echoes of Demons" *~*~*

‘With a fierce action of her hand, as if she sprinkled hatred on the ground, and with it devoted those who were standing there to destruction, she looked up once at the black sky, and strode out into the wild night.’ (Charles Dickens)

My head pounds, my heart aches and my throat constricts with the fear lodged in it.

"Bella." I hear again. It's sharp with concern.

My naked body is pulled away from a hard bare chest. Warm, solid hands cradle my face. I focus hard on them trying to pull myself out of the semi-trance.

"Bella. Look at me." My matted hair is brushed away and some of the harshness has dropped from the masculine voice.

I open my eyes, blinking rapidly. Groggy from sleep, I rub at them with the heels of my palms. Stretching like a feline, I reopen them slowly. A soft smile tugs at my lips as I sit up because there's a perfect, dull ache between my legs that reminds me where I am.

It's really dark out the large windows, telling me it's still ridiculously early. The gold sheets pooled at our feet, tiny traces of blood staining them as evidence of our activities. I lift my eyes further to see him sitting at the side of the bed, watching me, in the florescent light of the room. He's got on a pair of boxers and his hair is fitting. His bronze and copper sex hair is shooting out in all directions in its usual disarray. I can still feel the texture of it in my hands from fisting it earlier this very morning. My thighs clench together. It feels awkward, but the light wetness building there is easing the feeling. The stubble on his face looks inviting suddenly, and my palms ache to feel it scratching at my skin. The lean muscles of his torso and arms are free to my view in his shirtless glory. I rake my eyes upwards and gasp softly when my brown crashes with his depthless oceans of severe green.

His thumb brushes against my cheek. I frown at his expression, not knowing why he was looking at me that way. Subsequently he pulls the pads of his thumbs down and in front of my face. Only then do I feel the tears staining my cheeks to my ears. I feel a slight panic building.

"Who's Renee?" his voice is precise and deep.

Swiftly, I find myself unable to breathe. The question shocks me and brings my dream back into my mind. Apprehension wedges like a blade in my trachea, while an irrational, deep rooted fear injects itself into my spine. I wasn't prepared for the question. Honestly? I was still drunk on sleep. I couldn't even fully remember my dream just yet.

Trying to get a read on myself, I gather my fleeting thoughts and realize with alarm that I have no idea how to answer him. On any other day, I would tell him. It would be so difficult, but I'd do it, because Edward is uncharacteristically honest with me and I owe him it, but today it's too much. This dream has me more mind-fucked than I can ever recall being before. Until I can make sense of it myself, or at least give myself enough time to let it all settle, I can't talk about anything dealing with her.

There are too many feelings running through me as I recall vague pieces of my dream. I've never spoken to anyone about the dreams. I never want to. It's too difficult to keep it together as things stood, I didn't want to bring this up and mess up everyone's lives again. It took a lot of work to get to where we are now. Telling them about the dreams would cause nothing but unnecessary reopening of old wounds. I decided a while ago that I wouldn't let my family, both blood and other, make anymore sacrifices for me.

And Edward was someone I never wanted to burden either. I'd tell him who Renee was but this one simple question would force me to talk about it. He'd need a full answer if I said Renee was my mother. Of course he would because, bloody hell, I was crying in my sleep!

Had I said anything else in my sleep besides her name? I internally groan when I remembered that this isn't the first time he's witnessed the reality effects of my nightmare. The night he kidnapped me, he'd heard me call for him.

Jesus Christ! Fine mess you've got yourself into Bella. What was I supposed to say now? Yeah Edward, so Renee's my mother, whom I conjured up in my head? Talk about me being a head case, right? I have to conjure one up because, well, you see, I don't have one, she left hating us all and wishing we all died. How's yours doing?

Then my mind stops berating myself and slows to a halt… A key factor suddenly crashes to the forefront of my mind like a tidal wave.

I'd seen Renee.

I seriously fucking saw her!

The dream changed! She spoke to me! I heard her voice! Oh God… I- I died.

Great! Just fucking great!

I sit mutely, letting the sad and anxious remnants of confusion from my dream settle in.

The silence stretches and when I edge out my inner musings, I remember too late that I'm not alone. My eyes dart to him like a homing device, I don't need to search for his green orbs, I find them like it's second nature. He's watching me closely. Not saying anything, but reading my face and waiting for me to answer verbally, what he already sees on my face.

I suddenly feel very naked. I snatch one of his strewn shirts and pull it on, even though I know it wasn't the physical nakedness that was the problem. My head pops out the neckline and I peek at him from under my lashes, keeping my head lowered. Its shame I feel. He could see me, the not pleasant parts. Did he finally realize what a mess I was?

I can already tell that today is going to be one of those days. Thanks to the new stuff in my dream, no matter what I do, I'm going to be mind-fucked until tomorrow, at least.

His eyes are intense and his jaw is tight but his gaze coats me in care. The vein in his temple throbs as he clenches his teeth. "Bella, what are you doing?" I keep my head down. I hear him let out a low breath and his fingers curl under my chin. "Look at me."

My gaze lifts reluctantly to his.

He keeps his face in control, letting me hide my body in his t-shirt as he repeats the question while taking in my red rimmed eyes. "Who's Renee?"

My mouth opens but no words come out. He can see the conflict clear as day, looking like he's crawling out his skull trying to figure out what's going on.

I remain unmoving. I'm unable to run because I have no idea where his house is situated and I'm scared to death of staying because I'm suddenly feeling too exposed here.

What he does next shocks me. Completely unexpected, and hidden with understanding undertones, Edward gives me a solemn half-nod and presses his lips my forehead. Whatever he sees makes him not push the topic.

I want to laugh and cry simultaneously. Gratitude and irony bursting from my blood vessels. The simple fact that he knows I need time and is willingly handing it to me makes me want to let the feelings I keep hidden rushing out. It's like what I've always needed for me to let the floodgates open, is to know that Edward was on the other side of it waiting for me.

Leaning against him, I can understand those latent feelings I run from. I feel brave enough to acknowledge them. I feel scared. I feel alone. I want to cry so desperately. Its déjà vu, like I'm locked in the dream again and I'm desperate for someone to save me, tell me it's okay, that I'm not going crazy. Only here with him I  have  that. I don't have to be strong and try to keep it together because I don't want to send everyone into a downward spiral again. With him I can just be a girl. Not a daughter or sister, just me. I didn't have to protect him from Renee like I did everyone else.

It's surreal what an intricate role he plays in my life after such a short space of time, but I feel that pull towards him that brought him to me. I will answer him but I need to figure it out myself first. I couldn't risk blowing this with him because I was a train wreck of issues. It just wasn't worth it. Nothing was worth risking this.

He was different in ways I couldn't put into words. Without realizing it, he kept me breathing, even back when I first met him, when I didn't like him at all. In all the years I'd been haunted by the nightmare, he was the first person to ever worm into my subconscious and save me. Thinking back to the day I mistakenly burned myself while hiding behind the Lovers Tree, even though I was still fighting my attraction to him back then, he was what kept my mind from focusing on Renee. She was the pain I'd used all my life as a focus point when I was surrounded by bullshit, because the pain any memory of her brought was so powerful and all consuming, it drowned out everything else bothering me. She was a twisted dealing mechanism created by a child, one that had worked like a charm when Charlie almost lost the house, when Billy got paralyzed and when we almost hit poverty. But it didn't work when Edward was around because he was more consuming than she was.

He made everything easier without knowing anything about my past. In a warped way, my relationship with him was pure in that sense. He made me smile without trying and he was the first person in my life that did it all without the influence of knowing my past. All he saw was me and for some reason beyond my comprehension what, he saw was enough.

If he wasn't pressing the issue, I wasn't going to ruin our perfectly good Saturday. In any case, I didn't want to give him my bullshit. He deserved better. Truthfully, Charlie, Billy, Sarah and the gang, they all did. But he was the only one I had a choice with. I could spare him the extra bullshit. It wasn't important anyway.

I plastered a smile on my face and pulled back. Sensing the shift in my mood, he let me move away.

"I never want to see you cry, Bella, ever."

The sentiment is honest and sweet in that not-so-sweet way only Edward seems to be able to pull off. But I can see the threat glinting in his serious eyes. I don't doubt for one second the damage he'd do if he found the sources of my tears.

I swallow thickly, then smile at his expression and stick out my tongue. "Trust me, Shadow, I try not to look at me when I cry too." I pull at the bird's nest that is my sex hair.

He sniggers at my lame attempt at humor. Then, all too quickly, something goes drastically wrong that I don't understand.

His eyes momentarily dart to one of my hands and I watch perplexed, as every emotion he's worn since I woke up disappears and his face darkens. His gaze turns fierce, angry even.

I furrow my brow. I can't think of anything that could piss him off right now? Forcing myself to focus on the gorgeous feeling in my body, I push aside my instinctive apprehension of him, thanks to my own gang instincts and drag my t-shirt clad body towards him.

His eyes stalk my every move until I slip onto his lap. He doesn't raise his arms to hold me this time. But he doesn't move away from me either, so I try to swallow the small rejection I feel.

~.~.~D&D chap12 cont~.~.~