Okay, new story. This one is based off Edward. You may not like this Edward. He's a jerk. Asshole. Complete dick. But he'll change. Hopefully ;-)
Things I own: An iPhone, burgundy Honda Pilot, a little yippie dog.
Things I don't own: Twilight and all characters associated with it. They belong to the esteemed Stephenie Meyers.
Edward Cullen: A Work in Progress
I was walking back from the bar. I had a nice buzz going on. I love me some Jack Daniels. Tasty. However, drugs would have been preferred. You remembered what happen with that, asshole. Shut it, inner voice. I'm over you.
I had finally finished my apprenticeship as a tattoo artist with Bitchella, erm, Bella. God, she was incredibly hot but so crabby. Maybe it's because she hold you accountable for you actions, Cullen. Fuck you. We had all gone out to drink at Pepper's, a bar close to the tattoo parlor, Dreamstyle Ink.
I pulled out a cigarette and lit it. I took a long draw of the cancer stick as I sauntered down the sidewalk. I was nearly back to Dreamstyle to pick up my car when I heard a scuffle. I shrugged it off and pulled out my car keys to my Volvo. It's a piece of crap, but it's mine. Hell, it was my home for sometime there.
"James! Stop it! Get your hands off me!" someone screamed. I heard a muffled thud and the tearing of fabric. This is not good. I walked toward the sounds, clenching my hands into fists, preparing myself for the inevitable fight. I heard a loud smack and snarling. I turned the corner and found James Pattinson, one of the former tattoo artists, pounding into a prone woman in the alley behind Dreamstyle.
"Hey, fucker. Leave her alone," I growled. James whirled around and he pulled up his pants, running down the opposite end of the alley. I took off after him but he had too much of head start. I whipped out my cell phone and ran back to the woman in the alley. I got closer and lightly brushed her hair from her face. Bella. I traced my fingers along the curve of her jaw and grimaced. Her cheek was sliced with a knife. Her nose was broken and she had a split lip.
Her shirt was in tatters and her breasts were exposed. I removed my leather jacket to cover her body. As I laid it on her, I noticed the damage done to her lower half of her body. She was torn to shreds. "Fuck."
"911, what's your emergency?" a female voice called.
"I need an ambulance," I said quietly, biting back vomit. God, how can he do this to her? "I'm located in the alley behind Dreamstyle Ink Tattoo Parlor."
"What's the nature of the emergency?"
"My friend. She's been raped," I said.