Hi! Thank you for reading. I apologize for taking so long.

Huge thanks to lovelybrutal for betaing this for me so quickly and fixing my commas.

Ipsita and RTP4ME preread for me and I sooo appreciate it.

Thank you ladies!

All things Twilight belong to SM. No copyright infringement intended.

Shelter My Heart Chapter 2

With one last kiss, we say goodnight and I walk up my front steps. It's like stepping out of a dream, back into reality. I feel like a different person. In a single day so much has changed and the home I've never felt myself in, feels even more foreign.

I wave to mom in the living room as I walk in and she yells out that dinner is in the fridge. She slurs her words, and like a shark that smells a drop of blood my focus shifts to her and I hate it. Choosing to ignore her, I go to my room and start my homework for the night. I have a book to finish reading, calculus, chemistry, and history to work on. I should've taken Bella up on her offer to study together but I was afraid I'd be too distracted by her and I have to keep my grades up if I'm ever going to get out of this house. A scholarship is my ticket back to the north east and out of here.

Shoving my door into my back, Emmett says through the tiny opening, "Let me in. Why do you still sit against your door? We aren't little kids anymore."

"No, but everyone still barges in here without knocking so I still try to keep some privacy," I grumble as I move my books out of the way so I can stand up and let him in.

"Oh! Sorry dude, were you jerkin' it? We can talk later," he says as he backs away. I open the door and he brushes past me into my room.

"What's up?" I ask as he sits bouncing on my bed. He usually just yells through my door. It's rare that he comes to talk to me unless he needs something.

"So you and Bella, huh?" He asks with a toothy grin and I can't tell if this is the calm before he pounds me into the ground or if he's genuinely happy.

I nod, push my glasses up, and try to swallow the lump in my throat. "I was going to talk to you, but it happened so fast, and she explained that you two were just good friends and…"

"Hey. Calm down. I ain't mad." His smile fades and he says seriously, "I'm happy for you both. She's a sweetheart and you two will be great together."

"Really?" I ask. I can't believe my ears.

He chuckles at me. "Yeah, man. She's way too fuckin' smart for me but you're into that stuff." He rubs his neck and looks around my room. "I'm not so sure you'll ever get much, um... action though. She kept her legs together tighter than Fort Knox."

My brother came to warn me that she isn't easy. I'm so tempted to tell him they were wide open when my face was between them an hour ago, but I don't. Instead, I stand up and start pacing, blush furiously and stutter. I can't think of a single thing to say to make this situation any better. I guess I can appreciate his concern, but it's disgusting and I have an overwhelming urge to throat punch him.

He starts to laugh like Jack Nicholson when he played The Joker and doubles over. Through his guffawing he says, "Nevermind. Clearly it isn't a problem for you if the mention of sex gets you that flustered." Wiping the tears from his eyes, he looks up at me and I take my shot.

I punch him right in his smug mouth with all I have. Unlike on television, there's no slow motion action shot of his tooth flying, only both of us screaming in pain as he grabs his jaw and I grab my hand.

"What the hell was that for?" He spits out as he slugs me in the gut, nearly making me puke.

Cradling my hand, I kick him in the shin as hard as I can. "Fuck off, Emmett. You don't know shit."

With a growl he uses during games, he charges at me. The air is slammed out of my lungs when my back hits the floor and I look up at him while gasping for breath. I knee him as hard as I can between the legs and he rolls off of me in the fetal position.

The sound of mom's stumbling footsteps coming up the stairs makes me want to scream. My family has managed to ruin the best day of my life in minutes.

"Is this about that slutty girl?" Mom asks, the smell of alcohol strong on her breath as she walks into my room, swaying and holding onto the door to stay standing. "I'll ground you both...before I let some chick..."

"Shut. Up." I pack my books up in my backpack with my good hand, and block out her drunken rambling about being my mother and how I have to respect her.

"Enough, ma! It's not like that. Bella and I were just friends. She's really special to Edward, alright? Drop it." Emmett says through his moaning and groaning as he tries to stand up.

"I'll be damned if some whore..." she slurs, not listening to what either of us has to say.

With a deep breath, I stand up and throw my bag on my shoulder. "Thanks, Em. Sorry for reacting like I did."

Patting me on the back he says gently, "Get Dad to look at your hand and tell Bella I said hi."

Mom tries to grab my arm as I walk past her, but thankfully I'm stronger and easily pull away.

I hear her crying to Emmett as I walk down stairs. "Why does he hate me, Emmy? He'll always love that fucking dog more than he ever loves me, won't he? That stupid mutt!"

"Go lay down, Mom." Is Emmett's practiced reply.

He waves to me from the top of the stairs and we share a look. The look of knowing this is our last year stuck in the same house as her. He has football and Rosie. I have the shelter and now Bella. Dad has the hospital. One way or another, we'll all get through this.

We used to beg Dad to leave her, but he said it would kill her. He told us when he married her it was for better or worse, and that he would never divorce her for struggling with alcohol. It wasn't just her struggle though. When she hit a car while driving drunk and killed a teenager, it became our burden as well. She got off without doing jail time because the teen driver was found to be partially at fault for driving at excessive speeds. I don't care what the court says, she should have been locked up. She should have been forced into rehab instead of just going to AA meetings, where Dad had to go with her or she'd sneak off to a bar.

Even when she could no longer drive to get booze she drank mouthwash and vanilla extract until she discovered mail order wineries and hasn't had a day sober since. Dad would take away all the credit cards, or I would pour it all down the drain, but through all our determination, she'd find a way.

She chose her path in life.

It simply wasn't her family.

The town we lived in hated her and thereby us, so Dad took a job across the country, where nobody knew our history. Where patients at the small town hospital couldn't refuse to be seen by him. The house had to be sold, and we lived in a roadside motel while everything was arranged. Our dog, Murphy, couldn't be with us. Mom swore up and down she'd find him a good home to stay at until we could pick him up, but I overheard her on the phone laughing about how gullible I was. He was dropped off at the shelter and she had no intention of going back for him. It was too much of a hassle, she had said. The little bit of respect and love I had left for her died that day. I set my heart on helping animals suffering because of people like her and getting out on my own.

I text Bella with my left hand. Please com pic me up. I'll explsin.

To which she quickly replies. I know it was amazing but we can't do it constantly.

I smile and almost cry. I know. I ned help.

Within seconds, she calls and demands through a panicky rushed voice to know what's wrong and tells me her dad can be here in minutes if I need him.

I can start walking down our long driveway and hope she gets here before mom or dad come to find me, or her dad can be here in a minute.

My frustration and humiliation for for needing help refuses to be held back, and as I start to cry, I ask her to send her dad.

"Don't hang up. I'm calling him on the house phone right now," she explains and then asks if I'm hurt.

"Um...I hurt my hand but I'm not bleeding or anything."

I listen as she gives her dad directions and tells him to trust her.

"He'll be there in five minutes, Edward. What can I do? Tell me how to help you," she pleads, sounding so nervous and unsure.

I take a couple deep breaths and try to stop crying. My breath catches and shakes, making me even more embarrassed. I can't let her dad or even worse, Bella, see me like this. I shouldn't have called her. I should've locked myself in my room and blared music to drown out the sound of my mother and sucked it up like I always have.

I cough, clear my throat, and wipe my face. "I'm sorry for calling. I didn't mean to make you worry about me. I'll be fine."

I stand up from the rock at the end of my driveway where I've been waiting and start walking back to the house.

"Stop that right now. I want to be here for you. I want to be the person you call. Please let me help you, Edward. Please." She sounds desperate, as though this is life or death and I feel even more guilty for involving her. There are people with real problems who need someone like her. I'm just a kid with a drunk mom who can't seem to get over it.

"I'll be fine," I say and try to sound reassuring so she'll drop it. I turn back towards the road at the sound of a car approaching and realize I'm too late. Chief Swan just pulled into my driveway.

"You said you needed help and asked me to send my dad. Please come here and tell me what's going on, okay?" She sounds scared, like if she pushes too hard I'll walk away from her altogether and it kills me.

"Alright, he just pulled in. Thank you, Bella." I hang up and open the passenger door after debating if I should get in the back or not.

"Thank you, Chief Swan. I'm really, terribly sorry."

He waves his hand to stop my rambling. "Get in. Anything I need to know as an officer going on? Are you in any danger?"

"No, sir." I say as I place my bag on the floor and sit down. I buckle my seat belt and wince as I use my right hand.

"Let's get some ice on that and if it doesn't look good we'll get you to a doctor." I notice he doesn't say my dad which would make the most sense since he works at the only ER around. I don't ask though, I simply nod instead.

"Is your father or mother responsible for the injury?"

He's doing his job to make sure I'm not getting abused at home and I'm grateful that he cares, but feel so guilty for making him worry.. "No, sir. I am."

"Oh. So I should be asking if the other guy is okay and if they are pressing charges?" He turns to ask me as he stops at a stop sign. He's completely serious and nothing like the man I saw earlier playing with Blue.

"The other guy is my brother. He's fine and we worked things out," I tell him honestly.

He nods and says, "Good. Good to hear it."

He stays quiet for a couple moments, only tapping his fingers on the steering wheel to the beat of the oldies music he has playing.

"It was about my daughter, wasn't it?" He asks, impatience clear in his voice as though it was the first thing he wanted to ask when he picked me up.

"Yes, sir. But it won't happen again. I promise." I can't tell him what we actually fought about. I can't. There's no way to tell him I slugged my brother for saying his daughter wasn't easy. No way.

"I believe you. I also know there are things you aren't telling me, but that's okay. Family can be tricky." He purses his lips and grabs onto the wheel with both hands. "You're always welcome at our home, Edward."

He must have looked up my parents. He knows about my mom and isn't telling me to get lost.

I bite the inside of my lip to keep from crying. I can't think of a time anyone was so kind to me. "Thank you very much, Chief Swan. I really appreciate it."

"Call me Charlie," he says and reaches over to pat my shoulder. "And I only have two rules," he says as we pull into his driveway.

"No funny business when I'm home and for God's sake use protection." His body shudders as though he's disgusted by the thought and he gets out of the car without another word.

I'm too shocked to reply and can't believe he didn't tell me to keep my hands off his daughter like I envision most fathers would.

I look up to see Bella kiss him on the cheek and start running toward the car. She opens my door and picks up my backpack. "Come on. Let's get in the house. Dad said I need to get ice for your hand."

Nodding, I follow her in without hesitation. She drops my bag next to the couch along side her own and directs me into the kitchen. She gets me an ice pack out of the freezer and wraps it in a tea towel before handing it to me. Her old fifties style metal chair scrapes against the linoleum floor as she drags it over to sit beside me.

"Can you move your fingers?" she asks, watching my face as I try to make a fist. With pursed lips, she brushes the hair out of my face and studies me.

"You had me so scared. I'm really glad you let my dad pick you up."

Keeping my head down, I adjust the ice on my hand and apologize. "I'm sorry for worrying you and inconveniencing your dad. You're both busy enough, with the new dog and everything."

"You mean, Blue, who ran through the house smelling everything, raced through the backyard and had been sleeping on his dog bed until you got here?" she says with a laugh. "He already fits in pretty well. Dad just took him out for a walk and for a ride to the station probably."

Knowing he is feeling at home already makes me smile. I couldn't have hoped for anything better.

Bella playfully bumps my knee with hers, forcing me back to reality. I awkwardly run my left hand through my hair and fix my glasses before turning to face her. "You want answers."

She nods but keeps her expression 's no anger or demand in her eyes, her shoulders aren't squared, she simply looks worried. "Maybe start with your hand," she gently suggests and places her hands on my forearm.

"Um. Well...I punched Emmett." I bounce my foot nervously and her mouth pops open. "He says 'hi' by the way. He misses hanging out with you."

"And so you hit him? That doesn't make any sense."

Looking around to make sure Charlie isn't listening, I take her hand with my free one. "Uh...thing is he's happy we're together actually, but wanted to warn me you don't...um…"

"Just spit it out, Edward," she says impatiently.

I squeeze my eyes shut tight. "Put out. He wanted to warn me you aren't easy and I lost it."

"Would you rather him call me a whore? What the fuck?" She asks and pulls her hand back from mine as though it hurt her to touch me.

"No! Of course not!" I turn to make sure she's looking at me. "You are so much more to me than that. You're smart, and kind, and funny, and to hear him talk about you like nothing more than someone to sleep with…" I exhale deeply, clenching my fist to feel the pain from hitting him. "I wanted to kill him."

"Oh," she says and looks at my purple, swollen hand.

"We both got a couple good shots in before my mother intervened, but we were fine when I left."

"Are you in trouble?" She asks and mumbles low, almost to herself, "She must hate me."

"If I am she won't remember by tomorrow anyway and her opinion means nothing. Less than nothing actually. Is there a word for that?" I ask as the anger I've been holding in creeps back to the forefront of my thoughts.

"What?" she asks.

"Is there a word for less than nothing? Not negative like in math, but in literature. There must be some adjective I can't think of."

"Obliterate or nonexistent, maybe. But that's not what I meant. Why won't she remember and why doesn't her opinion matter?"

She looks so confused and annoyed. Her parents are divorced but she has a great relationship with both of them and I guess she can't grasp the concept of not respecting your parents.

"Because she's a drunk to put it bluntly. She won't remember anything by tomorrow morning, she was too far gone when it happened."

"What do you mean?" She asks with a far off look in her eyes, like she's trying to remember every time she had seen my mother. I have no doubt that Bella never saw her without a drink in her hand.

"She usually hides it pretty well. Not from my family, but to everyone else it isn't as obvious that she is always drinking." I explain, remembering why I don't talk to my extended family who is always eager to take her side. Happy to make me out to be the attention seeker making up lies about his mother, all the while refusing to accept the truth.

"Do you want to talk about it?" She asks carefully. "I'm here to listen but if you'd rather go sit and get some homework done, it's fine with me." She brushes my hair back again and leans her cheek on my shoulder - not pushing, but patiently waiting.

"Thank you for being so gracious. I'll explain more but right now homework sounds pretty good," I tell her with a weak smile.

With a quick kiss to my cheek, she stands up and moves her chair back to the other side of the table and takes my uninjured hand in hers to lead me over to the couch. We sit side by side for a while as I finish reading Wuthering Heights and try to not think about what we did last time I was on this couch, the way her leggings are so tight I can almost see through them, or how she's twirling her hair between her fingers. How a book about such miserable, awful people is required reading will never make sense to me. I'm able to hold a pencil without too much pain, thankfully, and finish the book and the packet on it for class.

Bella is curled up in the corner of the couch reading Stephen King as I put my book away and pull out my History text. Some teachers are so uncreative. Outlining a chapter of a book every week sounds more like torture than learning.

"How are you done with all your work so fast? Are you a super genius?" I ask, frustrated that she's already done and I have hours left.

"Huh?" She closes her book with her finger inside to mark her place and looks up, glancing around the room like she forgets where she is.

"I asked how you were done already?"

"Right!" She nods as she remembers why she stopped reading in the first place. "I'm not. This is for my book report."

"You're kidding me." I say like I'm asking.

"Nope." She smiles like the smartass she is. "I wasn't going to read all those books so they can tell me exactly what they mean. I also took regular history when I heard they make you outline the book in AP."

I can't help but laugh. "You really are much smarter than me."

With a shrug, she goes back to intently reading Misery and I turn back to my history book. We're not even touching, but simply sitting here with her, I feel better. I'm still thinking about my mom but just barely. She's pushed to the very edge of my thoughts now. Maybe it's because I know Bella cares enough to listen and won't make excuses for my mom, or maybe this is what it feels like to not be alone.

Technically I have Emmett but we don't really talk about how we feel or anything important. I spend the majority of my time at home locked in my room studying. This is all new to me and slightly terrifying. What if I'm not good at being her friend or boyfriend? What if I shouldn't even bother trying?

With a deep breath, I refocus on the book in front of me and start taking notes again. I force myself to finish the chapter through the throbbing in my hand and manage to finish up in time for Charlie to come home.

The door opens, and I turn my head to see Blue come in with Charlie in tow. His shoulders are square and he looks so proud to be in his harness. It's like he's a different dog already. Charlie unhooks the leash and the joyful pit mix bounds over to me and puts his head in my lap for a pat. It's never quite this smooth of a transition for dogs, but he must simply fit in perfectly.

"Hi, Dad. Did Blue do okay?" Bella asks and puts her book down.

"Okay? He did great! I couldn't believe how much he liked the car ride," he says like a proud father.

"Thank you again, Edward. He's amazing," Charlie says as he watches Blue move on from me to sniff at Bella before walking over to his bed and laying down. "I think he'll do quite well here."

"I agree, Sir. He looks like he really loves being with you."

Charlie gives me a half smile and sits on the recliner. "It's nearly ten o'clock you two. I see that you're still working but I think either you need to drive Edward home now, Bells, or you need to call your parents and let them know you're staying here if you don't feel safe going home, Edward."

"I'm so sorry. I didn't realize how late it is. I'll call my dad to come get me," I ramble and try to find my phone in my bag.

"Calm down. No one is in trouble. How is that hand, by the way?" Charlie asks and motions for me to show him. I hold my hand out and make a fist a couple times, while trying not to wince from the pain of moving my stiff, swollen knuckles.

"It's sore, but I don't think anything is broken."

He nods and reaches over to pat Bella on the knee. "Go ahead and drive him home. Remember you aren't in Arizona anymore and you need to watch out for deer this time of year."

"You've been telling me about the deer for a month, dad. I swear it's impossible for me to forget."

"Good." He smiles a big toothy grin at her and she laughs at him. She grabs her coat and phone as I pack up my book bag.

"Thank you again for everything, sir. I truly appreciate it." I tell him and wish he could know how much his kindness means to me.

"This is your last warning. I let it slide once tonight." He looks at me sternly and I'm glad I've never done anything I could get arrested for. "Call me Charlie," he says with a smile and pats my shoulder.

We climb into her truck and I struggle to not drift off daydreaming about what we did earlier in this very place. I clear my throat, wipe the sweat off my palms onto my jeans, and look at Bella. Her cheeks are blushing and she's twirling her hair as though she's nervous.

"Thank you for everything, Bella. Just sitting with you helped me feel a lot better. I, uh, I'm not used to it."

"Not used to what?" she asks as she backs out of the driveway.

"Being around people, I guess. Especially not someone who is so understanding and caring."

She nods but her eyebrows furrow in a look of confusion. "So normally you would have just stayed at home miserable? You don't have friends you could hang out with?"

"Yeah. I would have locked myself in my room." She looks ready to cry as I rush to explain. "My mom doesn't beat me or anything like that. She's a drunk. She's just a drunk." I look out the window, unable to face her as I explain what a loser I am. "And no. I don't have any friends."

"Liar," Bella says flatly. I look over at her, unable to say a word. As she slows down at a stop sign she looks over, smiles, and says, "I'm your friend, Edward. I'd be willing to bet a lot of people at school consider you their friend, too."

Shaking my head and pursing my lips, I look down. She doesn't want to see what I know to be true, and chances are when she does, I'll be alone again.

"So you mentioned about not wanting me to think less of your mom earlier. Is it her being an alcoholic you thought would make me not like her?" she asks softly, as though she doesn't want to pry but can't handle not knowing.

I close my eyes and swallow. "No. That makes it sound like I felt you would be judgmental and I know you are much too kind for that." Adjusting my glasses, I look up and watch her as she drives. Her faces looks tense and unsure and I hate that I made her feel that way.

"Can you pull over at the end of my driveway so I can explain?" I ask, afraid she'll be too distracted to talk about it as she drives.

Once we stop, I find myself telling her everything. She holds my hands and doesn't say a word until I'm done explaining what my mom did and how we came to live here.

"I wish there was something I could say to make it better, Edward. I really do," she says with a crack to her voice like she might cry. Instead, she hugs me tight and doesn't let go. She lets me lean on her and I love having her support almost as much as I despise her pity.

"Having you to talk to is more than enough. Thank you, Bella." I hug her one last time and kiss her cheek as I sit back on my side of the truck.

"Let me drive you up to the house. Would it be okay if I pick you up for school tomorrow?" She asks, sounding so unlike the girl that was in this truck begging me to touch her mere hours ago.

"Of course." I nod. "But please don't look at me like you are now, like I'm someone to pity and feel sorry for. I'm not. I'm fine."

"I didn't mean to. I'm…"

I cut her off before she can continue. "You're sorry. I know. So am I that you had to see me this way." Why did I call her? I should have stayed in my room.

"Kiss me."

"Huh?" I look over at her and am even more confused.

"I'm still me and you're still you. Now I know more about who you are. I'm bound to need you to calm me down the next time I freak out about my mom or dad. I realize it's not the same thing, but we all make mistakes, as do our parents." She grabs my hoodie with both hands and pulls me close to her. "Nothing has changed about how I feel about you. Kiss me goodnight." Her smile is full of mischief and I can't help the way my lips turn up.

I reach forward with my left hand and cup her jaw as I close my eyes and join our lips. The hair on my neck and arms stands up, overwhelmed by her love for me. She isn't being chaste. She's pouring herself into it. Showing me that she's the same girl who straddled my lap and gave me a glimpse of heaven earlier.

I pull away, breathing heavily and needing to adjust myself, to which she smiles and simply says, "Goodnight, Edward. Text if you need me."

I always need you, that's what scares me most. I think to myself but don't give voice to. Instead I nod and make my way up the front steps.

Thank you for reading!

Love,

J