Disclaimer / : First off, it would be wise for you to read LPAG before these. These aren't continuations; they just go more in depth with the characters' past lives, current issues, and scenes from LPAG that didn't make it into the story. These one-shots are rated M for anyone 16 and older for language, violence, and mild drug use. If you're a twelve year old fangirl that still isn't allowed to watch classic Wes Craven movies, please find a more age appropriate story of your liking. Thanks! Enjoy (;
Let the Games Begin
A series of one-shots from LPAG
- - When Push Comes To Shove - -
Rosalie Lillian Hale ; December 26, 2007. 8:25 PM
The air that whipped around me was bitter and piercing. But I guess that was typical for a New York City winter. The light coat of snow on the ground blew around me from the harsh wind when I stepped down around it. I tightened my grip around my torso and ducked my head down so my face didn't get assaulted by the coldness.
My hat flitted up off of my head and I reached up with my gloved hand to keep it in place.
Fifth Avenue was my absolute most favorite place to visit. When I wasn't fighting with my parents, I would be sitting at home in SoHo, or probably shopping down the strip. But when I would be in a quarrel with them – which if four out of seven days a week – I would have my driver drive me up to the Upper East Side – my home. I grew up in this neighborhood, and this is where I belong. Sure, SoHo is where I live now and it is nice for shopping, but Fifth Avenue is where my heart desires. It's where I'm destined to be and to live.
But only if life was as lovely as Holly Golightly's was. What I would do to find something like that.
I stopped in front of Tiffany & Co. and just looked in the window. People bumped into me at my sudden stop and threw me dirty looks. But one look at my face and they scurried off onto their normal business.
In the back of my mind, I was somehow thinking that if I would reenact Breakfast at Tiffany's, I would find that man of my dreams and I would skip off into the sunlight and all of that other cliché Hollywood nonsense. But, of course, this isn't Hollywood. And I am certainly not Holly Golightly. Not one bit.
There was a screech of tires as I heard a car make a stop on the street behind my back. I simply sighed and shook my head, trying to get out of my farfetched castle in the sky. I turned back around to keep walking north up Fifth Avenue. But four words made me stop before I could even take two steps.
"Get in the car."
My body froze on the sidewalk. I didn't dare turn around to face him. "How did you find me?" I asked to the vacant space in front of me. I felt a sudden surge of fury course through my veins. How dare this man follow me? Didn't he have enough common sense to leave me be when I deliberately kicked him where his most cherished possessions were?
"You're incredibly predictable, sweetheart," he sneered through his open window. I whipped my head around to glower at the man hanging out of his sedan. He merely simpered. "Anything gets complex in your life, you run away from them. Classic Rosalie."
My eyes narrowed on their own accord. "Do not talk to me like that, Royce. If that is how I am, then so be it."
I continued sauntering up the street with my head held high, attempting to not notice the man inspecting my every move. But my endeavor was futile. I could hear him curse under his breath and get out of his car, slamming the door forcefully. Tension built up inside of me as I felt him get closer and closer. It kept building up until I felt it. His hand clutched onto my upper arm tightly. So tight that I halted my steps and stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. Numerous bystanders gave us strange looks, but never stopped.
Memories of what had just transpired not even two hours ago began popping up in my mind. I closed my eyes as I felt a tiny whimper escape my mouth. I immediately pursed my lips, annoyed at myself for showing a sign of weakness.
"You weren't very polite back there, Ro," Royce murmured condescendingly into my ear. I felt a cold shiver circuit down my spine and through my body, and it wasn't because of the fourteen degree chill. My eyes squeezed shut. "Do you remember last time you disobeyed?" When I didn't answer, he squeezed tighter. "Do you?"
"Yes," I hissed through my clenched teeth. When I opened my eyes, I turned my head so that I was looking over my shoulder and into his hollow eyes. "I remember all of the disgusting, vile, atrocious things you did to me. I remember to way you looked at me like I was piece of trash. I remember you touching me in ways I didn't want to be touched. I remember every single bit of harm you have caused me." Royce's eyes sparked with a mixture of rage and narcissism. He looked to be ready to say something back to me, but I was not done with my tirade.
"But I also remember the way you fell to the ground when I kicked you under the belt. I remember how it felt for me to do that – the unadulterated exhilaration that coursed through my body when I watched you writhe on the ground, the adrenaline that rushed through my blood when I destroyed every single photograph of us. I remember how it felt when the vase I had in my hand slipped and smacked against your head. I remember the sick satisfaction that went through my head when I watched your eyes close as you fell back against the couch." I trailed off as I watched different emotions flash in his eyes. I approached him slowly, cautiously. When I was directly in front of him, I stood up on my tiptoes and put my mouth to his ear. "Do you remember, Royce?"
I didn't have enough time to step away from him when I felt his large, bony hand wrap around my throat. My eyes snapped open in surprise and my hand flew up to his, trying to pry it off of me. My mouth hung open as I struggled to breathe. I felt him begin to walk, shoving me roughly backwards. I watched his face as he pushed me somewhere – somewhere I couldn't see. My ankles kept twisting, due to the heels on my feet, but Royce managed to keep me up. By my throat.
"St—p," I gasped out, clawing at his hand. His mouth twisted into an awful sneer. "Ro—yce, ple—"
And then I was let go. He threw me onto the ground, causing me to land on a pile of plastic crates that was stacked up on the side of the alley. I looked up at his dark, looming figure standing over me as I tried to get my breathing regulated. He crouched down in front of me and cocked his head to the side.
"Oh, I do recall," he chuckled menacingly. I clenched my hands into fists, feeling my fake, acrylic nails dig into my palms. He looked me up and down appraisingly. With a lick of his lips, he raised both of his eyebrows. "And if I do say so myself, you being riled up only makes you sexier."
I grimaced at his nauseating face. "Fuck you."
"See?" he grinned disdainfully and brushed the hair that fell out around my hat away from my face. "You're getting the idea already. Are you finally coming around, Ro?"
I pushed myself by my legs so that I could get farther away from him. But, of course, there was a fucking brick wall behind me. I stilled my movements as I watched Royce started to unbutton his coat. He wasn't serious right now, is he?
"I don't like losing my belongings, Rosalie. You of all people should know that."
I glared at him with as much hate as I could muster. "I belong to no one."
He walked on his knees closer to me. He stopped when his legs were touching my legs that were curled up in front of me. He reached down and tugged at my hair carefully. As he inspected it, his mouth barely opened as he began speaking to me. "Quite honestly, Rosalie," he paused and played with my hair in between his index finger and thumb, "you pissed me off back at my house," he finished and looked up into my eyes. "You ran away from me, after you demolished all of our precious memories. What kind of fiancé would do that?"
I jerked my head away from his touch and recoiled against the brick wall. "I'm not your fiancé. I only dated you to satisfy my parents. But once they find out what you do to me every night—"
A sharp slap to the face quickly shut me up. I gasped as I felt a stinging sensation produce across my cheek. I raised my hand to my face and stroked it soothingly. Royce's eyes were burning with pure rage.
"Who are you kidding? Your parents don't love you," he scoffed hatefully and yanked on my chin, forcing me to look at his face. "And you don't love them. You have no one in this world except for me. And when you go back to the parents that don't even care where their daughter is right now, you'll realize what huge mistake you made by leaving me. They'll never believe what you'd tell them. They wouldn't want to believe it. It would ruin their image. So go ahead, let's see how that situation plays out."
I pulled my face away from his grasp, trying not to let him see the tears forming in my eyes. He hit the weak spot. He knew how to hurt me. Just by bringing my parents' fighting up, he knew that I would deteriorate in his hands and crawl back to him. He's a smart man. But I couldn't let that crack me. Not again. Never again.
"I am never going to come back to you ever again. You disgust me. I never want to see you again."
I could tell he was shocked that I didn't immediately break down and fall into his arms. So shocked that he actually didn't notice me begin to stand up. Just as I thought I was a safe distance away from him, I could hear him roar. It was almost animalistic. And I sent shivers down my spine. Until I was grabbed roughly from the back.
I started to scream, but he clamped a hand over my mouth to prevent anyone of hearing anything. I thrashed around in his arms, but he was so much stronger than me.
"You fucking bitch," Royce snarled viciously and shoved me violently against the brick wall surrounding the alleyway. I let out a cry when I felt my back slam against the building. He stepped closer to me so that I felt every inch of his body against mine. I was now full out sobbing. Royce hasn't ever been this angry before. This was a different side of the douche bag I knew. "You're never leaving my side. You will marry me. You will do what I say."
I managed to stop myself from crying hysterically so I could say the one thing that came to my mind: "Over my dead body." And then my leg kicked up for a second meeting with his pathetic dick.
He groaned and let go of me. Once his hand was completely off of my mouth, I let out the loudest scream that I could produce. Royce was already starting to stand up by the time I stepped over him. He grabbed onto my leg from the ground, causing me to crash onto my stomach. I scrambled up onto my feet clumsily because of my heels and turned around. Royce was on his feet and he was charging at me.
My mind went blank when I saw his angered face running towards me, and all I saw was red. I didn't think about anything else. I didn't move to run away. The only thing I did was pounce on him.
As we both fell to the cement, Royce got the impact off the fall. His head bounced against the ground and he let out a loud grumble. My fist was already in the air before he could open his eyes. And before he could even push me off of him, I let my clenched hand collide with his face.
I punched everything that I could reach. His nose, his eye, his mouth, his chest, his stomach. Everything. I could hear sirens in the background, and I knew they were coming to help me. But I didn't cease my punches. Royce wasn't moving underneath me anymore. I don't even think he was still conscious.
I suddenly felt someone grab onto my arms and pull me off of him. My fists fell to the side as I stared down at what I had just done to the man that had attacked me continuously for three years. And I didn't feel any regret.
The cop behind me pulled my arms behind my back and then I felt something very cold wrap around my wrists. My hair fell over my eyes as I watched another cop run over to Royce and check his vitals. I felt a smile creep onto my face as the cop spoke into his walkie-talkie that they needed an ambulance.
The cop that restrained me started pulling me backwards out of the alleyway. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to speak to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed to you. Do you understand these rights as they have been read to you?"
The cop pushed me inside the back of his car and stared down at me, expectant for an answer. I smirked and looked up at the man standing in front of me. The badge he was wearing shined from the lights of Fifth Avenue. Lieutenant Swan.
"Yes," I nodded as I glanced back at Royce behind placed onto a stretcher. "I understand."
Consider this a repayment for not updating chapter eighteen of Let's Play A Game. And I'm extremely sorry for that. Truly, I am. Hopefully you'll like these one-shots I have lined up for the story.
How was this one? Do people get Rosalie more now? Let's hope so.
Tell me what you think!