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Monster

Summary:
I'm nothing but a monster burning in a hell that only exists in my head. There's no hope left until one harmless glance chances logic and binds two eternal enemies together in a twist of fate. Can the escape from this hell be found in an infuriating dimpled grin? Or is this another dark, dirty trick of my own mind? A forbidden passion, heat, and intense anger—this is no fairytale.


Notes:
[Disclaimer: Monster is an originally plotted fic. The ideas within this fic are not to be copied in any way, shape, or form—I have not given my consent to any manner of copying. All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the intellectual property of their respective owners. All canon concepts and characters are the property of the Twilight Saga's author, Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended. Similarities are for the sole use of fan fiction, and no profit has been or will be benefited from the posting of this fic.] Emerging Swan Award 2012, nominated into Fandom Choice Awards.


35. Something About You

Rating 0/5   Word Count 4749   Review this Chapter

"I'm not out for us to fly or be set free
So what, so what?
I'd show you, you'd show me, so much, so much." - Imagine Dragons.

Chapter Thirty Five

Something About You

Tires screech against the rain-slick road, crying out as they're forced to come to an abrupt halt. The muffled scream of the driver is audible, even through the tinted glass of the windshield. The car is a large obstacle in the road before me, but it is no threat. Nearly nothing can harm me now. I hold no fear as I shoot out onto the road, right in front of the moving vehicle.

My eyes make out every little detail of the car, from its sunken tires to its muddy windshield. I even catch a glimpse of the horrified expression of the driver. She's a woman, young, and pale in the face. She can't be anybody from the reservation—she isn't anybody I need to worry about. I'm moving at an impossible speed, one long leg pushing me off the ground and onto the front of the battered car. My opposite leg follows through, reaching for the roof of the car before pushing off. Just a moment after I have landed, I am gone again, disappearing into the dense green brush of the forest.

There aren't many wolves who choose to run like this. Human, exposed, and out in the open for any curious eye to see. I can't stop now, though. If I am to phase, the pack will tie me down, dragging me back. I have been free, and I will be free, bound to earth by nothing.

Except for the lone thing that's keeping me here, in this hell: Emmett.

Cullen lands aren't very far out from the road. I take only minutes to breeze through a mile, and then a minute more to silently cross through the black water of the river. The wall of clouds above my head lock in the light, trapping me in, securing me into the shadows. My presence is invisible.

I move onto the bank in a single stride, planting my feet above the liquid mud. Water runs over every inch of my body, dripping onto the ground. The soft splash of their impact is the only sound in the heavy silence. Even my breathing is gentle. I appear to be at ease while my senses are on high, scanning out over the area around me.

The forest is empty.

Finding no threats, I press forward. Moving into the Cullen lands is like passing through a bubble—the calm atmosphere of the Quileute lands bursts, and another expands out over me, swirling with the sickly sweet stench of leeches and the tension of their uneasy climate. I am a wolf now, my mind in complete focus. I can smell their fear.

A couple paces forward lead me in near distance of the leech den. My body slips behind a tree, unexposed and sheltered by its thick protection. I release a heated breath through my lips. I've come this far, now I only need to follow through. I turn my head around the rounded edge of my barrier, assessing what's in front of me.

The first thing I notice is the night—darkness coats the outside of the Cullen house. I haven't realized how long I've been out. Time is so insignificant now, passing by like breaths of the wind. But, to their kind, night is a time to be wide-awake and on guard. I have to keep my thoughts straight.

My critical gaze scans across the white walls, narrowed with suspicion. All is hushed, with the exception of the lights that burn on the porch. Insects flock around the yellow glows, darting around inside of them. The rain has lightened to a lazy drizzle, quieting. Humidity hangs low over my shoulders, while the buzz and hum of natural forest life tugs at my attention. My stare remains still, because the second he comes into view, my attention is undivided.

A large figure ducks out the back door, stepping onto the porch. The door is shut lightly with a gentle bump of a fist. The figure smiles to himself before he turns. The instant he does, he's bathed in the light, in full view. The grin on his face seems to be even brighter than the glow of the bulbs as his gaze darts in my direction.

"Hey there. How'd it go?" His eyes skim over the dark forest. He frowns, leaning to the side as if to peek around me. "Bring me back any ass to kick?"

I position myself so my weight is balanced, hovering over the tree. The wind brushes over my exposed skin, sending a rush of heat down my spine. I grimace, shaking my head. "Great, but nothing's here."

"Disappointing, but I'll live," he reasons with a grin.

My grimace fades into a slight smile at the joking in his tone. "A little too late to say that."

Emmett snickers in agreement. He starts to say something else, but cuts off with a pause, tilting his head. "Why are you staying out there? If my jokes really were that bad—"

"It's not the jokes," I mutter.

"Oh." He flashes a huge smile, seeming relieved. "You're not getting a little shy, are you?"

"No, not at all. But I am a little naked."

There's another pause. I peek around the tree again, only to see him blinking in confusion. A breath leaves my mouth in a sharp gust. I start to speak, but he answers before the words leave my mouth.

He wolf-whistles, then grins and claps a hand over his eyes. "Oh damn, you're really making this hard on me now. I think I might have to drop this 'gentleman' thing for a little while."

I press myself closer to the tree, feeling the rough bark scrape my skin. "Don't you think it'd be easier if I could have some clothes?"

"Right, didn't think of that." Emmett chuckles to himself before dropping his hand and pulling his shirt over his head.

Let's just say that doesn't make things any easier on my part. My eyes instantly are drawn to the shape of his body, and my heart takes flight. I swallow back my comments.

Emmett balls up the shirt and tosses it toward the tree. The flex of his bicep instantly makes my stomach tighten, but once more I hold myself in. My eyes follow the path of the shirt, watching it stretch out in the breeze, before I snatch it out of the air.

I duck back behind the tree, straightening out his shirt before sliding it over my head. His scent floods my nostrils, blocking out everything else. The fabric of his shirt is smooth against my skin, hanging loose over my shoulders. I let out a big breath and feel a smile spread across my face. For the first time in a very, very long time, I start to relax.

Even though I'm still half-naked, which is probably not a good thing to be when he and his family are just on the other side of the tree.

"Fits nice."

I tense instantly once more, my shoulders locking in place. My gaze finds the source of the voice, landing on Emmett, who is now perched in the tree above me. He drops down as he catches my stare, landing in front of me. His eyes trail across my figure—quickly, just for a second—before he extends a hand, offering me a wrapped package.

"They didn't want to come out here, after last time. You know, just because of the tension. No hard feelings," he says, answering my silent question.

The package is small, folded and made of what looks like a paper bag of some sort. I study it for a moment, but it doesn't look like it can be anything dangerous. I release a breath, gently taking the package from beneath his fingers.

"Good," Emmett says with an approving nod. He glances at me, and then waves his hand behind him. "I'll be . . . away."

He heads off toward the river, leaving me be. My eyes trace his movements, following him all the way to the river. He doesn't look back once.

With a sharp exhale, I tear through the package. The pieces float down to the ground, revealing a pair of long, tight-fitted jeans and a shirt that looks like it's been designed for a fancier event. I shake my head at them, turning the clothing over in my hands, searching for anything that could be used against me. The pockets are flat and the shirt is limp.

I feel sick at the mere thought of putting these clothes on. But, standing out here half-naked isn't the best way to leave a good impression. Muttering to myself, I slide Emmett's shirt back over my head. A flick of my wrist sends it draped over the branch of a tree. I hold out the clothes in front of me. My mind instantly rushes to find another way to get out of this without leaving, and my eyes dart in Emmett's direction for a moment.

Emmett swings one muscled arm, releasing a rock into the river. It skips across the surface before it is swallowed by the current. He doesn't seem to be paying much attention, and his family is nowhere in sight. Having no excuse to stall, I reluctantly slide the clothes over my body, silently gagging at the scent. It's god-awful. Even the Makah jails have a better scent than the leech stench that has soaked into the fibers of the clothing.

A throaty chuckle sounds out over the river, echoing my muted gagging. My gaze flickers in Emmett's direction. His broad back is turned, facing the river, his head bent toward the water. He appears to be very focused on something that has caught his attention. I take only a second to put the pieces together

I snort at the realization and clear my throat. "Lovely view from that river."

The chuckling sound is repeated, only this time, it's louder. He still doesn't move. I secure the button on the jeans and give the shirt a sharp tug, dragging it down over my figure. "Done yet?"

He tilts his head to the side, humming low in his throat before he turns to face me with a large grin. "No worries, you're not the first I've seen. But, I can say I wouldn't mind if that was last exposed woman's body these eyes ever get to see."

I turn to face him, opening my mouth to reply, but I don't get the chance. Emmett sweeps me forward, guiding me back up to the neatly-cut porch stairs of the house. He settles me down in a sitting position before brushing past me.

"You just need to give me a little time, and I'll make sure the feeling is mutual." He laughs once, shaking his head as if he's amusing himself. "Give me a sec here. . ."

With that, he disappears inside the Cullen home before I can even say a word. It's smart of him, leaving me no choice. Smartass is actually sort of attractive on him. On the bright side.

On a sour note, here I sit. In a leeches house. In leech clothes. Waiting for a leech. Fantastic.

()()()

A quarter-sized object whistles through the air, aimed straight at the center of my face. My eyes trace the direction it's headed in, my body angling to block the path of the object. I part my lips just in time, intercepting the sweet little oval in my teeth. A smirk curls on my lips. I turn to face Emmett, jokingly showing off the captured grape before I push it through my teeth and down my throat.

"Ta-da," I finish.

Emmett continues to grin, his teeth gleaming in the dulled light. The same expression has been plastered on his face for the past hour as we play his game, seated on the stairs of the Cullen house. Only our knees are touching now. Our hands and mouths seem to have been temporarily satisfied, although the desire to touch hasn't faded the slightest bit.

"Color," Emmett says. He leans forward, staring intently as he awaits an answer. His lips twitch.

I smile slightly, humming to myself. My gaze travels over him before I decide. "Green. Or maybe blue."

Emmett's shoulders slump, his eyes slanting. "Damn it."

A laugh rises above the deep sound of Emmett's voice. The sound of it is soft, amused, and completely foreign. I cut off suddenly, my head snapping up as I scan the forest with narrowed eyes.

"Who's there?" I demand sharply.

The dark forest sways with the wind. Snaps and cracks of stiff branches echo out over the ground, while the night sky stretches endlessly over the treetops. It's quiet, but nothing unusual. My eyes still stay locked on the shadows, challenging whoever is out there to show themselves.

Nothing moves, other than Emmett's body, which shakes with muffled laughter. His mouth moves, but my focused mind rejects the words. After a long moment for silence, I reluctantly tear my gaze away from the forest, allowing it to rest on Emmett. "What?"

"You laughed, Jordan," Emmett says, his tone thickly amused.

Laugh? I pause for a moment, mulling over the word. It takes me a minute to process what it means—or to remember what laughing even is—before I wrap my head around the idea. "Oh."

Emmett's elbow prods my side gently, his eyes not moving away from mine. "That's just my effect." He wiggles his brow as he speaks.

"I'm sure," I muse, absentmindedly glancing around one final time. "So, green or blue?"

"Yeah, yeah," Emmett grumbles. His lower lip pushes out slightly in a pout, taking another grape from the bag. His expression brightens with amusement as he tosses at me, his eyes resting on my mouth expectantly.

I reach out to pat his knee before ducking my head to catch the grape. I swallow, focusing once more. My expression turns thoughtful for a moment. "Addiction?"

Emmett's dark brows raise away from his bright eyes. His gaze travels over my face. I raise one eyebrow, then the other as I wait, earning a big smile from him. He leans back against the slick railing of the porch, his shoulder brushing mine.

"Grapes?"

"Once, it was alcohol," I answer with a smug smile.

Emmett snaps his fingers in disappointment. "Shit, that was my second guess." He nods and rubs the back of his neck. He appears to be deep in thought, until a wide grin stretches across his face. "Turn on."

"Nakedness?"

"Well," Emmett sighs as he tears the bag to bits, "Better be glad you're not addicted to grapes, 'cause we're out. Game over."

"Oh? Is that so?"

Suddenly interested in the forest, Emmett turns his head away from me. I laugh silently, leaning around his body to look at his expression. "And what does that mean?"

"You . . . won," he admits grudgingly.

I smirk at him. "Hell yeah I did! It's good for you to admit it, even if it crushes your confidence."

Emmett huffs, appearing to be deep in thought. He is silent for a long moment before he looks back at me, grinning again. "New rule—you have to win two rounds, in a row, to win."

"That would be a great idea," I reason. "Except for the fact that we're out of grapes."

"Nope, no grapes." He shakes his head. "Just the pride of winning."

"And the pouting when you lose."

"What was that?" Emmett cups a hand over his ear, leaning closer to me. "Has this pretty lady dared to challenge Emmett Cullen?"

"I hear men love a challenge," I answer with a brief smile.

"That we do." Emmett laughs loudly, raking a hand through his hair. "You, Miss Jordan Uley, are about to be beaten down."

"We'll just have to see about that, Mr. Emmett Cullen."

"You're on!" Emmett grins eagerly, clapping his hands together. "Alright, here we go. . . Activity?"

My eyes instantly lock on the rounded muscles bulging out from the sleeves of his shirt. "A work out."

Emmett debates for a few seconds, grimacing. "Close enough."

"Secret?" I fire the question off automatically, my fingers flexing with anticipation.

"You. . . killed someone."

Of course, out of all the questions I've asked, that's the one he gets right. I feel my muscles tense, my eyes starting to blank out. I'm being dragged back out of the moment, into the past. The world around me grows fuzzy, slowly disappearing from my grasp. An instinctive growl presses through my lips, my teeth clenching. I curl my fingers into my fists and reel myself back in, nodding my head. It takes a moment for me to remember how to speak.

"Yeah. One of many."

I don't get a response. It's unusual, because everything has always been so instant and upbeat this whole time, fueled by Emmett's good attitude. But this time, instead of responding, his eyes drop down to my fists.

"You have a lot of secrets, don't you?"

For a moment, my body seizes up again, threatening to lock down. Nobody has ever been so open about things with me. It's always been hinting, or prodding and pressing me. My instinct is to shut off and attack, ending what might be a threat. But I can't do that with Emmett—I can't hurt him.

My hand slides through my hair. I clear my throat, gathering myself before I answer. "Maybe they are secrets, because nobody else knows about them. But maybe they aren't, because nobody else has ever wanted to hear about them."

Silence hovers between us. Emmett still smiles, as if it's impossible for him to wear any other expression. He takes a few heartbeats before his golden stare connects with mine again.

"I'll listen."

"You might." I push back the flicker of heat from deep inside of me, meeting his stare. "But it'd be more interesting to hear why you're doing this."

He nods slowly. "Doing what?"

"This." I glance down toward our knees. They still touch, although it seems as our conversation passed, we've come closer. Our thighs are touching now, pressed against each other without a sliver of space between them. It's almost as if they have gravitated closer on their own.

Emmett's eyes study my own before his torso falls back, weighing down on the porch. He draws in an unnecessarily deep breath. "Why I'm doing this?"

I nod, watching him reposition himself. "Yeah, that."

"This is different than it was with Rose," he begins in a steady tone. "She was the one that brought me to be changed. When I woke up, she was the first thing I saw. She was beautiful." Emmett leans further back against the stairs, his golden gaze roaming over my expression. "But it always seemed like it was about looks. Looks were important to her, so they had to have been something she looked for. My face was initially what had led her to save me, when she saw me. Not that I blame her." He chuckles. I smile slightly to myself, but don't comment. The effortless flow of his words has me in a trance—I listen intently to each and every sentence, taking it all in.

"It always might have been physical," he continues. "I mean, think about it. It started with looks, and then went on to be all physical for the first . . . hell, I don't even know how long, but it was a good while. Sure, she would keep me reined in and out of trouble, and sure, I could make her smile, but it didn't seem different from anything else. When I was human, I had a few girls . . . okay, okay. It was more like a few dozen. The thing is, they were all physical relationships—it was never nothing more than 'the one from the bar with the big brown eyes' or 'the owner of the mine's daughter with the nice ass.'" Emmett smirks, searching my smooth expression for a moment.

"I've forgotten all of their names and faces, because it wasn't really something equal. We got pleasure, and that was that. Pleasure, and nothing else. It wasn't balanced. My girl might have wanted to marry me, but I would trade her in an instant for someone with a better body. It was like that with all of them, and sometimes, with Rose, it felt just like that. I knew how willing she was to give everything—including me—up, just to be human again. She would have, if she was given the chance." He grimaces. There's a moment of silence before he continues on. "But, with you, there's just . . . something about you. I can't explain it. At least I know you're not just here for an invite to my bed."

My mind swims with all of the new information. I hold onto the deep hum of his tone, replaying his words over in my head a few times. My senses pull in as I drop my heavy focus. I swallow, nodding my head again. "You were like a duck."

Emmett raises his eyebrows. "When I said looks, I meant good looks."

"Not like that. Your looks are . . . not duck-like." I smile a little to myself at the sound of the words. "You were instantly gone with the first thing you saw in the world. It was the first thing you knew, and so you went with it."

He considers it for a moment before an amused smile breaks his serious expression. "Yeah, makes sense. So. You ever gotten down and dirty?"

I laugh once at his blunt question. My muscles tighten at the sound, but I am quick to loosen them, willing myself to relax. "I'm just as much of a virgin as you seem to be."

"Ooh. That's suspicious." Emmett winks, echoing my laugh. "That's gotta mean you've been in love before."

"I don't believe in love." My reply is instant, nearly fired.

He keeps up easily. "You don't believe in this?"

The speed of things rush my thoughts, picking up the speed. I feel control start to slide from my grasp, but this time, I catch it before it can slip away. I channel my focus into my control, shaking my head. It takes a few minutes, but even then I am at loss for words. My eyes meet Emmett's own again, searching for an escape.

Emmett's lips are still twisted, paused in the middle of a smile. He raises one hand, resting the tips of his fingers against my cheek before they slide through my hair. Chills run down my spine at the sensation of his hand brushing through my smooth locks. Emmett laughs, his deep boom of amusement, the sound full of a light, easy tone. There's something in his laughter and expression that's so contagious, I find myself laughing along with him.

He's happy. His happiness echoes inside of me, shooting through me. It's a spark, shot straight through my heart. I know, deep in the pits of my locked heart, that this really does mean something. That I really do believe in him. In one instant, I know this is final. This will be forever.

In the middle of our joined laughter, Emmett swoops down and presses his lips against mine. Our laughter fades, but it doesn't die as I return his kiss. Seconds pass, and the kiss continues on, and so does our laughter. We kiss and laugh, until I'm at the point where I only know I'm laughing and he's laughing but neither of us know why we're laughing. The sound of my own laughter shakes with a broken note, but the kiss still doesn't stop, even as I run short of air.

It's there again. The heat. The heat that even I have never felt before, a hot sensation that no other man has given me. It's a heat that's pulling me into him, drawing me in closer, begging me to let him claim me. Burning just to be his. The heat wraps around us, crackling in the air as our lips refuse to part.

"This is a game," a small voice hisses in my ear. "He is a threat. Trick him, but don't let him win."

Instinct swells from deep within me. I find my hands knotting in his hair as I position my body over his. His kiss slows with surprise, but I still don't stop. My long, slender legs shift over the porch as I move to straddle him. I lean my body over his, hovering just inches above his muscled form.

Emmett's response is immediate, his eyes darkening. His hands close around my waist and he crushes my body against his, his arms becoming iron restraints around me. I growl into our heated kiss and tug at his hair. He rumbles, the sound just a low mutter in his chest. I pause, pulling out of the kiss for just a moment. I inhale the chill of his breath, breathing fire through his parted lips.

In that moment, the world stops.

Suddenly, the need to overpower him evaporates. This moment is so beautiful, so sensitive, yet I am just about to destroy it. I remain still for a moment, focusing on Emmett, channeling all my attention on him. It's almost as if nothing else matters. Almost, but not completely because of course, everything else does matter, and everything that matters is against the two of us. This is just something that will crumple and end, just like everything else in my life.

And of course, we won't ever have enough time to make sure that it doesn't happen.

The door creaks open. A tinkle of laughter trails through the door as two people slide through. The second laugh, one much more masculine, echoes the first but abruptly is cut off. A sharp intake of breath causes Emmett to turn his head. I look over his shoulder, only to see Hen—or Esme, whatever the hell its name is—place her hand over her heart. The man looks somewhat surprised, but there is a sort of fascination in his gaze.

"Oh dear!" Esme exclaims. She sounds embarrassed, at the least.

The man, Carlisle, looks between the two of us as we pull away from each other. His gaze rests on Emmett. "Our apologies, Emmett. We didn't realize—"

"It's fine." I cut the leader off. There isn't time to sit here and have them stutter through apologies. They're going to shoo me off soon enough, regardless. I slide completely off of Emmett's lap, standing on the bottom of the stairs. "I was just leaving."

Emmett is on his feet a moment later. "Hey now, hang on a sec."

"Honey, if she needs to go. . ."

I ignore Esme's wary words, focusing my gaze on Emmett. I stare at him, waiting for him to tell me he needs me to stay. The tug of the imprint is already reeling me back to him, persuading me to stay here, forgetting about Sam and the pack. Emmett grins at me before he speaks.

"You can't expect to be leaving so quick after that. I'm not gonna let you run off," he jokes. There isn't a single trace of misunderstanding in his tone, even as he continues on. "How about another date tomorrow? Just you and me, nothing fancy at all."

Carlisle and Esme exchange an amused look, but once again, I don't pay any mind to it. Instead, I flash a smile up at him. "The usual place?"

"It's a date," Emmett concludes with a huge grin.

Wasting no time at all, he pivots back around and leads his parents into the house, already starting some sort of light-hearted conversation. I shake my head, a smile spreading across my face in pure amusement. The whole atmosphere around him is lightened just due to his presence. It's not only enchanting; it's something else about him that's drawing me in.

I still don't know what the hell I'm doing, but I do know for a fact that if he's still trying for me, he has to be just as crazy as I am. And crazy plus crazy has to equal something right, doesn't it?