NOTE: I don't own Twilight characters!! OOC, AU, AH-- Fast and Furious meets Twilight. This is just an introductory chapter and the next chapter is on the way so please read and review. The set up of this story is going to be a combination of past and present entries that explain the plot. Get ready for Bella the Badass!

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Sunday September 14, 2008

"I've got a surprise for you, Bells. It's not much, but I figure we could fix it up. Jacob offered to help. Do you remember him? Probably not, he's a few years younger than you." I had never heard my father say so many words at one time. I tried to feign interest, but the gray tinge of Forks, Washington was already depressing me as we inched towards a house that I hadn't visited in four years.

"Cool, dad, but I really don't need anything," I told him.

"Well, I've already bought it for you, and it's the least I can do." I grimaced. If Charlie knew the true reason for my sudden interest in the Pacific Northwest, he would probably lock me in my room and feed me with scraps of bread. It took some convincing, but Renee had finally agreed to keep my indiscretions a secret from my state trooper father.

We pulled into the gravel coated driveway. The only thing that had changed was the encroaching wilderness and the presences of an ancient behemoth of a truck. Was Charlie interested in antique car collecting now?

"So, what do you think?" he asked hopefully, probably praying that I didn't change my mind and board a plane back to Arizona. Sadly, I was in no position to move back to Phoenix.

"It's like I'm twelve again." My reply had a negative connotation, as I had hated my preteen years with a passion, but Charlie beamed with happiness, not understanding my double meaning.

"Well, I'm glad you're back. But I was talking about the truck." He gesticulated towards the hulking piece of metal that belonged in a museum. A 1953 Chevy pickup, by the look of it.

"It's…interesting. When did you get it?"

"Last week, from Billy Black. It's your welcome home slash birthday gift." He waited anxiously for my reaction and I couldn't bear to tell him that he got swindled into buying the biggest piece of junk I'd ever seen.

"Really? Oh…awesome. Really cool, dad. Thanks so much!" Charlie didn't hear the strained sincerity in my voice, nor did he recognize the false smile plastered on my face.

"I know it's a bit old, but it'll get you from point A to point B." Yeah, topping out at 40 miles per hour!, I thought.

"And once your arm heals, you can take her for a spin." Charlie pulled his keys for the ignition and jogged around to get the door for me.

"Umm…dad? I broke my left arm, it's no big deal. I'll have no trouble driving, you don't have to baby me or cart me around in the cruiser," I told him seriously as he slung my luggage over his shoulder.

"Yeah, but it's probably safer for you to bum a ride with me until the cast comes off," he argued, but his resilience was waning and I knew that I could easily convince him otherwise

"Char…dad, how many bones have I broken before? I think I've learned to work around the restraints of a cast. Please, I'd be mortified if you had to drive me around in the cruiser!" Police cars brought back bad memories, ones that I was trying to escape, and I didn't want to draw any more attention to myself than was absolutely necessary.

"Are you sure? I don't want you to get hurt. You're only seventeen. You haven't had much driving experience." Oh, if only you knew, Charlie. I could drive circles around you with me eyes closed. That was the problem. I was too good at driving, and too stubborn and independent for my own well-being.

"I'm perfectly capable of driving a truck to school and back."

"Fine, but if you feel you can't handle it, call me and I'll drive you home." I nodded enthusiastically, stunned that I would be back behind the wheel so soon. Granted, this was probably the shittiest truck in existence, but it was still something.

Charlie hobbled down the walkway, shifting the weight of my duffle bag to his other shoulder as I followed behind. "You really have to be more careful and watch where you step, Bells. You could have impaled yourself on that metal rod. Thank God it only went through your arm rather than your head. Phil should really clean out that garage of his!"

"Hmm…" I wordlessly answer. So that was the cover story? At least my less than adequate equilibrium came in handy for something. Charlie didn't have to know that my stepfather, Phil, was an utter neat freak and we didn't actually have a garage. He didn't have to know the truth. Not now, not ever.

Friday September 5, 2008

"Swan. Playing with the big boys now?" jeered James as I climbed out of my sleek street racer. These poor schmucks didn't stand a chance, yet they felt the need to pull the male supremacy card.

"Usually I like a bit more competition, but it was either a TV dinner with Renee or this," I retorted. James snickered and grabbed my waist, spinning me around so that I was inches away from his chest.

"Made a few adjustments to the Supra? Where'd you get the money? I swear you're robbing banks behind my back. I'll drive the getaway car if you want." I rolled my eyes as his hands crept beneath the band of my underwear.

"Yeah, you'd stall on a hill right in front of the police station. My way's easier. Grandma Swan's inheritance is good for a T-66 turbo engine and a NOS upgrade," I answered him, subtly trying to pull away from his suffocating grip.

"Or you're working for Aro," the fierce, angry tone in his voice startled me. I would never fall into the messy web that Aro, Marcus and Caius spun. The drivers they sponsored were always the dirtiest, their equipment supplied by way of money laundering and theft.

"Fuck you, James. I'm an honest driver," I spat and wrenched my body away from his vice-like hold.

"If you wanted honesty you should've stuck to the kiddy tracks at the speedway. Illegal street racing isn't exactly squeaky clean, Swan. So stop acting like a little bitch. I'm the reason you got this far. When I met you, you couldn't even ride a bike!" he howled, drawing the attention of a few girls looking to hook up with the winner.

I recognized one of them as Victoria, James' frequent lover. I didn't particularly care. We weren't that kind of couple, though we had been dating since I was fourteen. He was fickle and I knew it. But that was just the way we were. He would cheat, I would smack him and wop his ass in the next drag race. Then he would apologize, his big cow eyes brimming with false sincerity and I'd take him back. Why? Because he was the reason I was where I was today.

"Do you seriously think I'm that stupid, James? Racing for the Volturi would be like getting in bed with a black widow spider!" I hissed spinning back towards my leather clad boyfriend.

"I wouldn't be surprised, you little whore. You like power and speed, why not bed the enemy and get both." At that, I pulled my arm back and delivered a powerful right hook to his jaw. He was making no sense and wounding my pride, something that I would never stand for.

"You bitch!" he roared.

"James, shut the fuck up or I'll castrate your unfaithful dick. Don't you dare accuse me of sleeping around when I've caught you fucking Heidi, Liz, and Victoria multiple times. And those are only the ones I know about!" Now we were truly drawing a crowd. Drivers and groupies alike circled around us, most of them cheering me on. James wasn't exactly popular among the underground scene. He was volatile and prone to cheating and disloyalty.

"Do you think that you can make it out here, Bella? You think that you're good enough? Well you're mistaking, you little slut! You can't handle any car fast enough to win. You'll crash and burn! And I'll have to pick up the pieces." His eyes darted around the crowd as he tried to assert his dominance.

I huffed and glowered at him. "See you across the finish line, dickhead. That is, if you make it that far!"

I turned on my heels and stalked towards my car, but James had other plans. He yanked my leather jacket with such force that I went spinning into the dirt with a thud. His heavy, hulking body crushed down on top of me, pinning me to the ground. He lowered his head to my ear and his warm breath made me cringe as he whispered, "Nobody makes a fool out of me! Not even the great Bella Swan!"

With that he crushed his mouth against mine, forcing my lips open and jabbing his tongue down my throat. One of his hands groped my breast roughly while the other one viciously plunged into my hair and wrenched my head backward.

I struggled against his strength, thrashing my legs in hopes of dismounting him. But that only caused him to push his growing boner harder against my core.

He shifted his torso and unknowingly freed my arms from the restraints of his bulging muscles and in that moment of weakness, I shoved my fingers into his beady eyes. A massive object propelled into the air and plowed into the howling James, tossing him off of my stomach. I scurried to my feet, shaking with anger.

Another driver rushed over and positioned himself in between me and James, who was now being held back by the same man that had tackled him to the ground. Both of my saviors were members of the Volturi.

"It seems we have a lot to learn about proper etiquette, James. Assaulting a woman is by no means alright," a gruff voice said from behind me. "Come, my dear Bella. Please, let's get you patched up." I wheeled around as a pair of fragile hands lightly gripped my forearm. They belonged to Aro.

"I'm fine," I tersely responded.

"Nonsense, you're bleeding. Though many people would appreciate it if you leveled the playing field with an injury, it would not be fair to you. Please, Miss Swan, follow me," his sweet voice was uncannily deceptive and I wasn't sure what to make of it. I raised my hand to my forehead and felt warm, thick goo ooze from a fairly deep cut. The metallic smell of blood hit me seconds later, and I swooned embarrassingly into the breakable arms of Aro, who gently led me to the Volturi lounge located in the parking garage where the race was supposed to originate from.

"Gianna, do you mind grabbing a gauze and bandage for our friend? She seems to have fallen." A kind looking girl not much older than me nodded and disappeared down a curtained hall.

Aro turned towards me, his cataract-ridden eyes gazing in my direction. "I must comment on your car, Miss Swan. It looks like you put a lot of time and money into her, at least $80,000 under the hood, if I'm not mistaken. And it's working for you. I'm impressed by your stats. You've won seven of the last twelve races, but this isn't a quarter mile drag, my dear, this is the Volterra Cannonball. Can you handle it?"

I narrowed my eyes at his insinuating tone. "I think I'll manage just fine."

"Yes, I do, too. That's why I have an offer to make you. The Volturi run the underground street scene, Bella. We can offer you protection. These racers play dirty and the Volutri look out for one another on the road. And then there's the matter of police. We have quite a few inside men; none of our racers have ever so much as been pulled over for a faulty brake light."

"Sorry, Aro, but I'm not interested," I retorted. These were the people who gave street racing its bad name and I refused to be a part of it.

"Car tune ups and upgrades are rather costly, but you wouldn't have to worry about any of that with us. We pay for everything you need, including entry fees. Of course, you could always drop eight grand per drag in the name of pride. Would you reconsider? Grandmothers can only die once." He, like every other driver in this circuit, knew about my financial difficulties and had hit a nerve with his somewhat insensitive comment.

I cocked my head and bit my lip. "I'll think about it." Perhaps, once I blew away the competition and won the one hundred grand prize money, I wouldn't feel so monetarily helpless.

Aro's lips turned up over his yellow teeth in a sinister grin that gave me the chills. "That's all I ask, Bella. Ah, Gianna…" he beckoned towards the young, Italian girl who reentered with a first aid kit. She unlatched the white box and began to clean the laceration above my right eyebrow.

"Thank you," I told her after she was finished. She smiled and wished me luck before disappearing into the back room once more.

"Please, think about my offer," Aro called after me as I jogged towards the door. I waved my hand dismissively.

The cars roared to live as I slipped behind the wheel of my Toyota Supra. I turned the key in the ignition, opened the Nos valves, and powered up my GPS and police radar systems.

There was no excuse for failure. I would not settle for second place loser.

A/N:

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