Sitting at the stand is probably the most terrifying experience ever. Every question the lawyers asked me felt like a stab. Each one reminded me of what Phil did to me. And each time they asked me a question, I answered with a lie. Yeah, the bible I just swore on five minutes ago? I don't give a shit. I've never been a frequent flier for church. I'm more spiritual than religious. So the only problem I have with lying on the stand now is that it will probably kill me (psychologically) in the very near future.

"Is it ture that he has threatened your mother's life?" My lawyer asked me (I know her name is Angela. She's a sweet girl. Phil's I found out, is Jessica). I looked at my mother straight in the eye to maybe give her a better feeling of security. I stared straight at her and lied.

"No, that is absolutely not true. Phil loves my mother, and would never, under any crcumstances threaten her life." I didn't dare look at Jake. I could imagine the mixed expressions of horror and fury. I couldn't look at anyone. I stared into space, not making contact with anyone. When I was little, Charlie always called me his open book; that my eyes were like windows to the world: my world.

Angela looked at me skeptically. "If all these speculations, aren't true, then tell me why you are here, Miss Swan." She looked to the audience. "Tell me why your friends are willing to bring all this to the press for no reason." Whipping back to me she tried catching my gaze, failing. "Tell me why you're sitting up in that stand today going against everything your friends have told us and arguing against evidence. Why?"

I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream the truth at the top of my lungs and put that jack ass smiling smugly at me behind bars so I could help rid the world of another rapist. I wanted to go back to New York and really give all of myself to Edward without a moment's hesitation. I wanted to tell the truth and thank Jake and all my friends for finally getting my cowardly ass up to the stand. I wanted to go back and live with Charlie once all of the drama was over. I wanted to ride horses and play music with Edward at my side all the time.

But Renee was more important than me.

What would Renee do if Phil went to prison? She doesn't have any friends because everyone thinks she's a real bitch (which she is, I'm not arguing that). She can't live with a boyfriend because all she has are little one night stands for her own pleasure. She won't go back to Washington even if her life depended on it. She would have nowhere to go. And it would be my fault. I could not live with myself having that on my conscience.

Slowing my heartbeat and respiration rate, I said softly, "I was very young when I met jack and everyone. I missed my dad, Charlie, and I wasn't very fond of Phil. Living in a completely new environment did not help. I was so used to it raining almost every day, forests of trees, a small town of people who knew me," I looked at Charlie for the first time, trying to convey a message as I said, "It's always been my home."

Charlie is not a man of many words, and doesn't show emotions often, very cautious of what he puts on his sleeve. But his expression was enough to make me happy, but the single tear that escaped his eyes made me feel terrible, like by lying, I was slowly killing him also.

"I might've said things to them during that time that could've given them the wrong idea," I said, trying to sound like the guilty party. "Now, looking back, I don't know why I said those things. I don't know why I lied to everyone. I guess the recent incident involving the pool of my blood at the bottom of the staircase ." Mumbles filled the room. "It was nothing more than a case of me being clumsy and tripping down the stairs."

"And why were you there in the first place, Miss Swan? You were supposed to be in New York at a very prestigious boarding school. What would cause you to abruptly return to Texas in the midst of your semester?" Her snappy questions irritated me, and I could tell that the feeling was mutual. I wasn't exactly being the most cooperative client.

"I was getting to that part," I mumbled. The entire room hushed, but I heard one chuckle.

"Please, Mr. Dwyer, contain yourself," the judge chastised. Phil held up both hands in surrender with a smug grin plastered on his rather sinister face. He was thoroughly enjoying the fact that he still held control over me, and was gloating over his remaining ability to torture and manipulate me. I continued as if the slip didn't happen.

I still didn't know what I was going to say. I kept a calm face, but inside I panicked for a good bullshit answer to her question. "Jake was my first friend here, despite how long I was here, prior, and we've established a means of communication," I started, still frantically hunting down the right words. Telling a partial truth felt less painful to say. "He didn't return any of my phone calls or text. He'd never once ignored my calls. He said that if I needed to atlk to him that he'd always be there to listen. When he wasn't, I panicked and came back. He wasn't home, and I couldn't find him, so I went back to Phil's where I accidentally tripped down the stairs." I put emphasis on the word, 'accidentally'.

"And, pray tell, what happened after that?" She inquired. I looked around the room at Angela's sharp eyes, the attentive expressions of the press, the frustrated wrinkles across Jake's forehead, and my mother's shell-shock blank face. I didn't know what to do, so I told them the truth…er, what used to be the truth.

"I don't remember," I said blatantly. Angela rolled her eyes and the rest of the room (those in favor of my side) groaned at the rather conspiritably convenient statement. "I woke up in the care of Dr. Cullen back in New York," I continued to explain. "I'm an amnesiac."

Angela just sat back down at her table, pinched the bridge of her nose, looking frustrated and utterly defeated. She massaged her temples and reluctantly continued, "And could this 'Dr. Cullen' character account for your return? Could anyone tell you how you ended up in his care?" She couldn't even look at me anymore.

I shook my head. "He asked me that same question." I swear, by the look on her face, she was two seconds away from banging her head against the table. That is, until the judge saw her expression.

"Please, take a seat in the pews, Miss Swan. We are done with your question," he said gently and tentatively. I stood up and returned to my seat next to my dad. He just wrapped his arm around my shoulders and squeezed tightly, not saying a word. He kissed my head. I leaned into his touch and rested my head on his shoulder, enjoying his company while I could. "The next person I will call to the stand is Mr. Jacob Black." I stiffened like a deer in headlights…a pale-faced dumb brown haired deer.

I could hear his footsteps as he marched up to the stand with determined strides. I could hear him sit down eagerly in the chair at the stand. I could hear conviction in his voice as he swore on the bible to tell nothing but the truth. Before anyone could question him or put in a word, he asked the room, "Okay, how many people in this room really believe the bullshit she just fed to us?" I just leaned forward, burying my face in my hands and hoping no one noticed my despair. I didn't dare to look up to see how many people would raise their hands.

He continued, "Thank you for being honest. It's nice to know that some people in this courtroom are." I could feel his eyes stabbing me with daggers. My dad continued to comfort me by rubbing my back in little circles. This day could not possibly get any worse…well, maybe if Stephan Christian from Anberlin died. I was eating my own mental words after the questioning began.

"So would you like to replace any of the answers that Miss Swan gave us?" Phil's whorishly hot lawyer asked. I sat back up, regaining just a bit of my feeble composure. Jake did not bother composing himself and glared at Jessica.

"Oh," he chuckled darkly, making clear eye-contact with me. "There's a lot I'd like to change about those answers, but the last few I'd like to focus on." His attention turned back to Jessica. "First off, she wasn't lying about what she told me. I talked to Phil myself, and everything she explained was true. Second, the reason she came back in such a hurry is because Phil threatened her mother's life again , explaining explicitly that she would never see her mother again if she didn't come and see him. So I think I've corrected at least three invalid statements."

"And where were you on the night of her assumed, 'trip'?" My lawyer asked this.

Jake looked a little perplexed as he thought about his answer. He spoke slowly, choosing his words carefully. "Well…the people who first found her…" --he jumped ship. "Oh, fuck this. Her friend from New York was the one that got to her in time. He called me as soon as the situation was defused and I came over and called the cops. The reason her blood was on the floor was because Phil slapped her so hard she fell over, passed out, and cracked her head on the first step, resulting in a concussion."

Oh. God

Shit.

Holy shit.

Fuck my life.

No one had to be a rocket scientist to know what question came next. I prayed, for the first time in my life I prayed that God would seal Jake's abnormally large motor-operated mouth for the first time in his life.

"Who are her friends?" Both lawyers said at the same time. Angela asked with hope. Jessica asked with venom and pissed-off worry.

Breath had escaped me. Jake's words incapacitated my lungs. Bastard.

Jake shook his head. "I don't know, and at this point, I don't care. They got her to safety, they made her happy. The messages she left me following the accident confirmed that she was happy. And for that, I will forever be grateful." Yeah, until he finds out I'm dating the guy. For now, I felt satisfied and relieved that he didn't disclose any names.

"And you're positive you don't know any of the names?" Angela demanded, but Jake knew what she was really asking: "Is there a way to get their asses down here?"

Jake shut down her hopes with a small shake of his head. "No, I don't know any of their names."

They had no further questions, and the judge ordered that the trial be temporarily paused until the evidence was further investigated.

Charlie, being the overprotective chief of police, escorted me to the car with Jake tagging along. I hugged the rest of the gang good-bye and we rode out of town.

Renee had arranged for us to stay at the Embassy Suites hotel in Frisco, twenty minutes from the courthouse. She figured it was far enough away from the drama back at the house she shared with Phil, but the truth was that there was no place far enough away from him that would make me feel safe.

As a tense silence filled the air in the town car, I awaited my verbal beat-down.

So I was pleasantly surprised when it didn't come.

Jake just gazed outside the window at the passing cars, looking thoughtful instead of frustrated. I wanted to ask him what was on his mind, but part of me didn't want to know. I wanted to ask what Dad what he thought of me now, but I was terrified of what he would say.

I felt as if I was going through the motions of life, as if time was moving ten times faster than me. Time was too fast for me to keep up. The photographers didn't bother me; I barely even noticed them anymore I was in such a state of despair. I hardly felt my dad pulling me by the arm to get me to walk through the hordes of people asking for the inside scoop, hardly felt the ground moving beneath my feet, hardly noticing the concerned glances that Jake cast my way.

My body felt unresponsive to the world around me. After watching 'I Am Legend,' I'd wondered what it would be like to become a zombie. I wondered if I'd make that ridiculous "UGGGGHHH" noise, if I'd stumble around with stiff legs and my arms sticking out limp in front of me like a blind drunk.

No. Being a zombie felt like nothing. You just didn't feel anything. If someone pinched me with acrylic nails I wouldn't have felt it. If a horn went off in my ear I wouldn't flinch. You just walk around. Not thinking, not feeling, not seeing, not hearing. The world is mute, and the only thing occupying your small bubble of a world is the occasional word of Conscience saying, 'Why bother?'

I don't know how I ended up there, but a voice called me out of my bubble and I noticed the bedroom around me. The hotel room, I guessed.

The voice calling me was Jake's. "Bells?" He said softly, concerned lines between his brows. I just stared, remaining unresponsive. "Bells, we are going to see what we can do about the press. We'll be downstairs, most likely. Both of our phones are always on if you need anything. I stopped looking at him, turning my gaze to the terribly patterned carpet. I didn't know if I'd really heard him or not, and frankly, neither did he. "Do you need anything, Bella?" He placed his hands on my shoulders, hoping to gain my attention and failing. He gave up, leaving the room and shutting the door behind him. I heard his voice outside say, "yeah, she's just mess. She can't talk. She is physically fine, but she's gone. I'm willing to try anything at this point."

Curling up into a ball, I crawled under the comforter, hiding my face in the weird, hotel-scented pillows, blocking out any and all sounds, sights, and feelings.

I thought about Jakes question.

What did I need?

Edward. I needed Edward.

I needed him to wrap his arms completely around me like he does when I cut or when I'm down or when I'm happy. In his arms, I feel safe, I feel secure, and I feel loved. I feel like the rest of the world can't touch me or do me harm. When I wanted to cut, Edward held me so tight, so tight that there was no way I could bring harm to myself. He just held me tight, kissed my head, rocked me comfortingly, and whispered all the different ways to say 'I love you.' I needed Edward to do just that: wrap his arms around me and say that everything will be okay…that I will be okay, even when life made it feel like nothing would be okay. It all seemed possible and believable in Edward's arms.

Finally, I felt something.

The most horrible, unbelievably excruciating pain. My chest ached in a way that I never thought possible. My body contorted into the smallest ball possible in response to the sudden smack of pain.

At first it sounded like a long squeal--the squeal that means you are holding in the tears with all your might-- but really, it was just the beginning. The long squeal turned into the most earth-shattering sobs.

I wanted to die. I wanted to watch blood seep from my wrists and feel reality slip away for eternity. I wanted to feel the nightmarish pain secede from my body and never feel anything again. I wanted to find my razors, but my traumatized body couldn't move. I felt completely disconnected.

My heart hurt. I could feel my body exerting too much energy, and I could feel it start to weaken.

As quick as it came, the pain stopped.

The world wasn't being turned upside down by my violent sobs.

I felt calm.

And like magic, I felt the secure embrace that had comforted me so many times before. Softly twisting my head around, I found the most pain-stricken topaz eyes I'd ever seen.

Not caring how he got in the bed or why, I turned my body around and curled into his embrace. He held me tighter than he ever had, but it wasn't discomforting. I'd never felt more secure. He let me cry into his nice sweater, and dipped his face so his lips would rest on top of my head. I wished with all my might that I could hold him tighter, and my arms shook with effort.

After I'd calmed down, and mentally came to terms with Edward's presence, I said, "Jasper's here."

"Yes," he said softly.

"Is he gone now?" I asked.

"Yes."

I didn't feel the world coming to an end like I had mere moments ago. Everything fell to place, and the world was at peace, even if only for a little while. At least I had Edward.

His hold didn't cease or relent at all.

So much had gone wrong in the past twenty-four hours. I couldn't imagine being anywhere but in Edward's arms. Any place else would be a living hell. With his free hand gently running through my hair and his other arm wrapped firmly around me, I felt blissful, calm, content.

Every moment without him felt like having my lungs ripped from my body. Breathing felt impossible. God himself couldn't put air into my body. But then he held me, and life would be restored to my empty shell of a body. The horrid pain I'd felt would've driven me to my death had it continued any longer. Without him, the pain would've raged on like a relentless forest fire, burning and killing any life in it's path. All I needed was him.

"Sleep, Bella. You need it," Edward whispered. I had no problem being compliant.

But somewhere in my sleep, I could hear everything going on around me.

"She will continue to lie for the sake of Renee, which is the only thing I know for sure. She will bear this on her shoulders for the rest of her life if she won't even admit it in open court." Jake's frustrated tone made my chest tighten a bit. Edward's chest beneath me rumbled a bit.

"She claims that Renee will make her life a living hell if she puts Phil into prison, which is, I'm sorry to say, probably true." Edward quickly added, "She has nowhere to go. She doesn't have any friends, she doesn't have a job or any money; just Phil and his American Express card. What would happen to her if Phil and his fortune got locked up?" At least someone close to me has common sense and half a brain.

"She could find a job. She has a teaching degree, why not use it?" Jake sounded pissed. "She did just fine with Bella when she was single, and now that she's without her, she will have much more than she did." I heard the rustle of paper and Jake sigh. "You know her better than I do at the moment, I hate to say. She is dead set on making sure that she is miserable and her mother is hanging with the mile-high club. Do you think you can convince her to say otherwise in front of a court?"

My best friend in the entire world was trying to conspire against me. Fantastic.

"I will stand by Bella in whatever she wants to do. She knows what's best for her, and if she believes that keeping her mother happy is what's best, then let her do it. But you know that I can't put my family at risk by going to court." I heard pen being put to paper for just a moment, wondering if Jake was signing papers.

"Fine," I heard Jake mutter, "but I will do my damnedest to make sure he's put behind bars after all of this." The door slammed as he walked out of the room.

After a few minutes, I finally decided to say something.

"Thank you," I whispered.

"For what?" he asked softly. His hand brushed through my hair once more and every part of me relaxed.

"For sticking up for me," I told him. "Ever since I left New York, I've felt so vulnerable, and I've never felt so alone. Despite being surrounded by my friends and my dad, I felt like they were conspiring against me; doing everything in their power to make sure I don't succeed. It really sucks meatballs when you have no fucking clue who to trust." A tear leaked out and I quickly wiped it away.

"Meatballs?" Edward inquired with a bit of humor.

"Yeah, meatballs. It'd sound a little inappropriate if I just said 'balls'. I don't want you to get all excited over a little sexual connotation." He chuckled.

"Since when did you care?"

"I don't. But meatballs is more fun to say anyway."

"You know, Bella," Edward started to say, "you can always trust me. I may not agree with everything you do, in fact, right now I think what you're doing is downright stupid," I winced at his words, but conceded. "But I love you, and even if you do succeed, I will make sure that all the measures are taken to ensure your safety against Phil. I will never let him hurt you ever again." He may have kept going, but I stopped listening after 'I love you.'

I sat up and turned to face him, feeling a bit perplexed. "Sorry, I think I zoned out for a second. Could you repeat that?"

Then he looked a little confused. "I said I will do everything--"

"You said that? No, wait, I'm talking about the part where I stopped listening."

He looked amused. "When did you stop listening to me?"

"After the 'I love you part'."

He just nodded his head. "Right. That part. Well after that I said--"

"I don't care what you said after that!" I groaned. "What I'm trying to ask is, did you really mean it when you said you loved me?"

"Of course I meant it!" he said incredulously. "Do you need to hear it again? I love--"

It's not that I liked cutting off his sentences, it's just that I'm too impatient to let him finish them at the moment. I grabbed his face and pulled his lips to mine, which he responded rather nicely, wrapping his hands gently behind my head, pressing just a bit closer.

He said he loved me. And he meant it. Besides Charlie, I'd never really heard those words directed towards me. All my life I've just wanted people to care. It seemed like too much to ask for back then. Now I have so many people who can sit down and enjoy my company and vice-versa. Edward and I had established a permanent connection, however strange. Despite him being a vampire and me being of the homo-sapien breed, it felt like a minor fact that could be overlooked.

Love isn't something I have to ask for anymore.

I took comfort in his arms around me and his lips moving with mine. Just a few happy tears rolled down my cheeks. For a brief moment, I wondered how this insanely beautiful, intelligent, caring, funny, tasteful, horse-loving and sometimes overbearingly protective person came to love me. I decided not to jinx it by dwelling on the subject. I felt too happy to care anyway.

"I love you, too," I whispered against his lips. He smiled, and I returned the gesture.

His thumb smoothed away the tears on my cheeks and cupped my face with his hands. "You are so beautiful," he said, almost to himself. "I don't understand how anyone could ever hurt you."

The world is a sick place. And in this sick world, there are very sick people; Phil being one of them. There are also very few things in this world that can make me cry. Phil's abuse, my mother's verbal abuse, Edward's absence, and when my trust is betrayed.

"I'm just an easy target," I said mildly. "And in a lot of ways, I think I deserve what I got."

Maybe if I treated my mother and Phil with a little more respect when I was younger, none of this would've happened. Maybe if I'd actually gone to school instead of ditching all the time my mother wouldn't have sent me so far away. I've lied so many times that I've become good at it. I don't take advice, I am stubborn, and now all of it has come full circle, biting me in the ass.

"You don't deserve anything but the best, Bella," Edward told me seriously, with scarily narrowed eyes. "Never doubt that."

I turned away, kicking my legs over the side of the bed and glancing at the clock on the nightstand.

"It doesn't matter what I get. So whatever happens over the course of the next twenty-four hours, it doesn't effect anything. Things will go on as normal." I turned around and gave him the biggest fake smile I had. "It's two in the morning. What do you want to do?"

Edward just frowned. Well, I couldn't please everyone. "I think you need some intense therapy," he murmured, shaking his head.

I brushed off his comment. "So I hear. But you love me either way, right?"

He smiled just a bit, "Yeah. I love you--crazy or not."

"Do you consider breaking into the pool at two A.M crazy?" I asked.

A little light lit his face, and I saw a grin grow on his lips. I took it as a 'yes'.