Entry for "A Love Like Fire 2011"

Title: Hate me? Love you more.

Author: SamieJamesbait

Beta: Savannah-Vee

Pairing: Edward/Bella

Rating: M

Prompt: Eminem – Love you more

Disclaimer: I am not Stephenie Meyer. I don't think she listened to Eminem whilst writing and I highly doubt her Edward ever used the language mine uses. All rights to Twilight are hers alone. I just enjoy giving them issues.

Summary: Theirs is a love more akin to poison than pleasure. Two people aching inside, trying to destroy each other, all in the name of love. And penance. AH E/B


Bella's POV

I'm on my way - Edward

Shit. What the fuck am I going to do? I peek out of my bedroom curtain for the millionth time, and check the street outside for his car. Ever since he texted me a few hours ago, I've done nothing but sit by my window and wait. My nails are chewed down to the skin, my stomachs turning. My mum and his dad are out for the night so I'll be alone when he arrives.

Edward's pissed off. Understandable, but unnecessary. What's done is done. It was a mistake, I know that now, but how could he expect me to wait? How long did he want me to hang on to the hope that one-day we would move back to the old house, closer to him? I couldn't just leave my life on hold.

I read the text message again.

He's on his way. He'll be almost here by now. Angry, manic... nobody here to tell him to calm down. No-one but me, and I've never been able to calm him down. Not since we gave our baby up for adoption. He blames me. I know he does, he doesn't even try and hide that fact from me anymore. It's okay though, I blame him too. It is his fault. It was Edward that refused to wear a condom, Edward that didn't believe in abortion and Edward that pushed foradoption. I agreed with him about the adoption, or course. How the hell could we raise a child? We could barely look after ourselves. We were still kids at the time. Hell, we are still kids now. I was fifteen when I had the baby – almost two years ago. We receive monthly updates on her progress and so far everything points to her being a healthy, happy and well balanced twenty month old. She is happy now. Me and Edward are the ones with the problems.

We don't communicate anymore. Instead we are caught up in this twisted game of hurting one another. I love him, and I know he loves me, but that doesn't stop us. We're hell bent on destroying each other.

I hear the car before I see the headlights.

Deep breaths fail to calm me. I don't move from my seat by the window. Edward knows where the spare key is anyway. He's out of his car and running up the stairs before I can manage to get a grip on my anxiety. I knew he wouldn't react well to the last text I sent him. He was never going to be calm and rational about the fact that I have met someone else.

Someone who isn't him.

The door handle on the inside of my bedroom door hits into the wall with such an impact that some of the plaster comes loose, leaving a hole that my mum will no doubt be pissed off about. I turn from the window and look at him. He's so beautiful when he's angry.

His jaw is tense, emphasising his bone structure. The hollow in which his cheek meets the joint of his jaw seems to be ticking. Pulling in and out like a clock – or a bomb. Tense, and ready to explode.

His hands are on either side of the door frame, fingers clenched under his palms in fists. The grey jumper he is wearing rides up his stomach because his arms are raised. I see skin. His skin. A familiar longing grips my stomach – eradicating any fear of him that I had. Fuck I want him. I'll always want him.

"Missed me?" I ask, not really knowing how the fuck to start this conversation.

"You only miss what you don't have, and I still have you."

"No you don't, Edward. Not anymore." He needs to realise that it's over. We can't continue a relationship where we hate more than love each other.

His fists clench harder, his knuckles becoming white. He closes his eyes, and I know he is trying to calm himself. Before he does something bad. Something that will not help this situation.

"Who is he?"

"Does it matter?"

His eyes snap back open. "Who the fuck is he, Bella?"

"He's nice. He's calm. He likes me. He doesn't fucking hate me, Edward." I pause, "He's not you."

"I don't hate you." He steps into the room, leaving the door open.

"Yes you do. We both know you do."

"I love you."

I pause, my body reacting to having him close by. It's been weeks since I last saw him, I've missed him more than I realised. "I know you do, I love you too."

He steps even closer, my room is only small. If he reached out his hand he could touch me. He doesn't.

"I love you more," he says, dropping to his knees.

He rests his head in my lap, I push my fingers through his hair. It's something I used to do when we were younger and he was hurt or upset.

I can't breathe when I realise that he is hurting now, and that I'm the reason why.

I'm wearing an old t-shirt of Edward's and my boy short underwear. His face is resting on my bare skin. It takes only minutes before the contact leaves both of us hot. I can feel the heat where our skin meets.

When Edward begins kissing my thighs, I'm not surprised. I can't even muster the strength to tell him to stop. I don't want him to stop. My body is his by rights, I belong to him, just as he belongs to me.

"Tell me you love me," he asks in between kisses.

"I love you. Always."

His hands are palm flat against the top of my thighs, holding my legs a slight distance apart so that he can fit between and tease the flesh with his lips.

"Tell me you belong to me. Tell me you're mine."

As he asks, his kisses become higher, and he is just below where I want him to be. He pulls my legs further apart, hitching them over his shoulders.

"Edward...I..."

"Tell me!" he demands, biting into the inside of my thigh.

Fuck that hurts. It feels so damn good. I tug him by his hair, so that he is facing me.

"I'm yours, Edward. Only yours."

A crooked smile erupts on his beautiful face, and he snakes up between my legs, pushing my back against the window and crushing his lips to mine. My legs are still above his shoulders, and the stretch in the back of my thighs causes me to groan into his open mouth. I feel his smile as he gives me one last kiss, before snaking his way back down between my legs.

He continues his teasing of my thighs but I become impatient. Tugging his face closer to where I want him by his hair.

"Hmm," he teases. "What shall we do about these?" He slides a finger down my panties to indicate what he is talking about.

I move my hands to the waist band of the plain white cotton that is barricading the way for Edward.

"Stop," he commands.

I remove my hands, bracing them on the window pane either side of me.

He smiles again, his self assured half smile. Arrogant prick.

"Fuck...If you're not up to it, Edward, just say so."

"Bella, baby. Please, don't be so fucking stupid." He slips one hand under my underwear, and uses his other side to pull the material from the top. With one powerful tug, he rips them in half, effectively giving himself unrestricted access.

I'm about to make a snarky remark to him, something along the lines of about fucking time, but just as soon as the thought enters my mind, he's kissing me again. Right there.

Leaving one palm flat against the window pain, I bring the other back to his hair; pulling the strands tight through my fingers, guiding him deeper and faster when I want to.

My back arches as he steps up his technique. Whatever it is he does down there with his tongue, it's fucking magical.

The world around me fades, nothing else exists aside from the fire building in my stomach. Shame and humility fly out of the window as I thrust myself forward, into Edward's face. I'm gripping his hair tight and I know it must hurt him. He's so fucking prissy about his hair.

My orgasm rips through me ferociously, just like they always do when brought on by Edward. Even his fucking orgasms have attitude.

Laying in my bed half an hour later, with enough space between us that we are no longer touching, Edward feels the need for one last douche comment before we fall asleep.

"Like you could ever leave me. Nobody could ever make you come like I can."

He's right, of course.

The arrogant fucking prick.


Waking up the next morning is torture, namely because Edward decided, at some point in the night, to take the duvet and wrap it around himself, leaving me fucking freezing cold.

Using my feet, and arms I push with all the strength I can muster in the morning, until he rolls off the bed.

"What the fuck!" he yells, from his new position on the floor.

Laughing, I crawl over to his side of the bed, poking my head over the edge. "Whoops."

"Whoops! I'll give you whoops you cheeky fucking bitch!" He yells, but I've already jumped over him and I'm out of the room before he is even off the floor.

That'll teach him to rob my blanket.


School time. Kill me now.

Last night I'd been too caught up in Edward to think of what today would bring. Now I'm here and I have to face it. I have to break up with my new boyfriend, who just happens to have some incriminating photos of me on his phone. How am I going to wing this one so that we break up amicably and he deletes the photos?

Stupid fucking Edward, this is all his damn fault.

Why couldn't he just stay back home? Why did he have to drive down here? Why did he have to claim me again? Dumb fuck should just let me go. We're no good for each other. Our 'love' is more akin to poison than pleasure.

I see Paul standing by his car and make my way over. He smiles when he notices me, and I remember how easy it is with him. We don't need to insult each other so we can kiss, we don't need to fight with each other so we can fuck. Paul is simple. He's good for me.

"Hey," he greets, leaning down to kiss me.

I kiss him back, relaxing easily into his embrace. No hatred, no pain. Just Paul. It would all be so easy...so simple... if I stayed with him.

"Hey, yourself."

He spins me around so that he is standing behind me, his arms around my shoulders and hooked together on my chest. His chin rests on the top of my head, such a familiar gesture.

He continues talking to his friends: Seth, Garrett and Angela. These are now my friends, my new start. Their humour isn't sarcastic, their motives aren't selfish... they're just normal fucking kids. I don't want to leave them.

The bell rings, and Paul spins me around to give me a kiss. It's something we do every morning as we won't see each other again until lunch. It's so normal I don't even hesitate to kiss him back as he tilts my chin.

His kiss is soft, tender...everything Edward's isn't.

Even so, I know Paul will never be enough. I'm just as fucked as Edward. Maybe even more so.

I'm pulling away from Paul - from his kiss - just as something knocks into us from the side. The force knocks me off my feet, as it does Paul. After the few seconds it takes for me to get my bearings back I find myself looking at Paul lying on the floor – with Edward sat over him. He's punching him in the face...once...twice...three times.

"Stop!" I yell, but he ignores me.

Four...five...six. Blood covers Paul's face...it's everywhere. On his face, his shirt, Edwards fist, Edwards shirt.

Seth and Garrett are frozen... too shocked to move. This type of thing just doesn't happen here – random strangers don't just attack students.

"Stop!" I yell more forcefully, scrambling from the floor. My action seems to spark Garret and Seth back to attention and they move quickly to pull Edward off Paul. Once they pull him off they push him back, and finally I am face to face with him.

His eyes are wide, his nostrils flared. The adrenalin has sent blood rushing to his face... for the first time in a long time he looks ugly to me. He has just shattered my new start. Any chance I had at moving away, and making myself a better person are ruined now. Just like Edward's knuckles.

"You selfish fucking prick!" I shout, launching myself at him. My fist connects with his jaw, but it doesn't give me the satisfaction it normally would. This isn't part of one of our games. He's completely fucked up this time.

I've barely righted myself before Edward's retaliation comes. He grips me by my hair, one hand each side of my head, and shoves me to the ground with a forceful push.

"Me? I'm selfish?" he shouts, but I'm not listening. My hands are grazed and small pieces of gravel are imprinted in my skin. It stings.

My eyes flicker to Paul, and I see Garrett wiping his face with his shirt. Seth and Angela have disappeared, no doubt to grab a teacher. They're just not the violent type, that's why I had befriended them in the first place. They were so different from what I was used to.

Looking back to Edward, I see he's still stood staring at me. His anger is just as intense, and I know he still feels wronged.

"Why did you have to come here, Edward?" I ask as I clamber back to my feet. My voice is calmer now. I'm just naturally more familiar around violence... it's like my comfort zone. You can blame my mother and Edward's father for that. Their fights are more legendary than mine and Edward's.

"Are you fucking kidding me? I came here to take you home, you fucking slut! What a waste of my fucking time!" His screaming is a sign that he can't be reasoned with right now. His red mist has set in, and everybody in the world will now be the bad guy, whilst Edward himself remains the wronged one.

"I told you to wait at the house." I don't finish by saying I was about to break up with Paul because I don't think he needs to hear that right now in his state.

Wiping my hands on my jeans to get rid of some of the dirt and gravel, I don't notice the teachers approaching with Seth.

"Great. Here comes the pussy patrol. Get your fucking shit, Bella. I haven't got time for this."

"You have got to be kidding me? I'm not coming back with you. Not now, not ever. It's over, Edward."

"It's not over until I say it's over, sweet cheeks. Now get your fucking shit together and let's go. I haven't got time for your bullshit dramatics right now."

I cross my arms across my chest in defiance. I watch Edward eyes hover from me to the approaching teachers, and struggle to contain my anxiety as he tries to decide what to do.

The teachers are about a hundred yards away, and some of them are pretty big guys.

"Go," I tell him, and for once in his life he does as he is told.


That night I have a violent dream, one that I have had many times. Me, Edward and our daughter are in the hospital room, and in the dream we have decided to keep her. Just as we are about to leave, and take our child home, Edward erupts into a massive rage, and we get into a huge fight. It always ends with us tugging the baby between us as we bring her into one of our twisted mind games.

I wake, reminded for the millionth time that we did the right thing in giving her up for adoption. It might have intensified mine and Edward's 50/50 love and hatred balance of each other, but it only benefits our beautiful daughter.

With her Bronze hair and green eyes, she was all Edward. Hopefully her personality will be nothing like ours. She deserved the best in life, and with her father's good looks and her adoptive parents guidance I truly hope she gets that.

Washing the dried tears from my face, I get dressed and make my way to school. As soon as I arrive I'm taken into a meeting. Turns out Paul and Garret had been listening to mine and Edward's conversation and I was being blamed for bringing the violent strange guy onto school property.

My mother is called in but she sends her boyfriend, Edward's dad, instead.

Once my appropriate guardian is here they break the news to me that I am to be expelled immediately and I'm kindly asked to leave the school property. Edward's dad doesn't try and defend my case, he doesn't blame his son's behaviour on himself. Instead he thanks the school for their time and we leave.

Just like that I'm out of school, and within a month Edward's dad decides we should move back to our old town. The one where Edward lives with his mum.

Just my fucking luck.


The following month we arrive back in our old town. By some twisted batch of fate we end up living in our old house, which is still empty. Guess nobody else wants the dump I'd had the misfortune of growing up in. I don't blame them. The whole house stinks of damp, and it has the pure fucking bullshit luck of being right across the road from Edward's house.

The first day I arrive back he is waiting in the garden. I'd specifically asked his dad not to tell him that we were moving back. Throwing him a thanks for nothing glare as he helps my mum into the house with our stuff, I approach Edward.

"Thought you were never coming back here?" There is a distinct look of satisfaction on his face. I immediately want to slap him then kiss him, but I don't. I promised myself that I would not fall back into our old pattern. I'm not going to give into the pull I get from Edward. I want better for myself. I want better for Edward. I want better for our daughter. One day she will want to meet us, and I don't want to be doing the same old bullshit with Edward then. When she comes back into my life I want to be a good decent person for her.

That means no me and Edward. I'm determined not to cave.

"It's not like I'm here by choice."

He doesn't reply. Instead he pulls a pack of cigarettes from his jeans pocket, putting two into his mouth. He lights them both then hands one out to me.

"No thanks, I've quit," I say. Truth is I'm trying to quit, and the smell of the smoke so enticingly close is too much for me. Without another word I walk away from him and into my old house. Or new house, depending on which way you looked at it. Personally I view it as my old house, I think a house deserves that title once you have fucked in every room.


Going back to my old school was never going to be fun. Trying to change my bad habits is a hard task when surrounded by my old friends. I'm there all of ten minutes before Alice informs me that Edward has been sleeping around. I'm immediately pissed off. Admittedly I haven't been celibate since I moved, but I only slept with one guy, and Edward wasn't friends with him. Now I am not only the returning girl, but I'm the laughing stock of the damn school. Everyone knows me and Edward are a thing. We've had too many fights for them to forget that he is off limits. Just because I can't have him anymore doesn't mean they can. Stupid bitches need reminding that Edward belongs to me, regardless of whether or not I want him.

Lessons are the regular monotony of which I am used to. Nobody even stares as they are all so used to me – one kid even asks me about something that happened last week. It's nice to know some people didn't even notice I had left. It's great for the ego.

I walk into the cafeteria and immediately scan the room for Edward. He's at the table where our group of friends have always sat. Beside him is Jessica, and I can see as I approach that he is stroking the back of her neck.

I'd always liked Jessica, she was a sweet, mostly quiet girl. However, things apparently change. The bitch is sat in my seat.

Some girls would storm right over there and make a fucking turnip of themselves, but I'm not a bell-end. Instead, I saunter over, swinging my hips in a way I know will gather more than just Edward's attention. I don't look at him again as I sit at the table, right beside James. Edward has never really warmed to James, they have that type of keep your enemies closer type of friendship. I'm about to show Edward just how fucking close James can be kept.

"Missed me?" I ask James.

"I've missed your tits," he replies, immediately looking to check that I'd brought them back with me.

"Well they're back."

"I've noticed." He smiles. "Maybe you'll let me take them out some time?"

"I don't know if you can handle them." I know everyone is listening, including Edward. I can feel his eyes at the back of my head. My skin is buzzing at his proximity, and if I'm honest with myself, it's buzzing at the thrill of this new game.

"Only one way to find out, Swan."

I raise my eyebrows at him and half-smile. "I'll keep that in mind, shall I?"

He bites his lip and wags his eyebrows. "You do that."

"Ouch! Edward, you pinched my neck," I hear Jessica complain. It's hard to suppress my smile, but I just about manage it.

"Never was much good with his hands, were you, Edward?" I tease. "Always just a little bit impatient. A little sloppy."

"No need to not be sloppy when dealing with a whore, is there?" he replies.

I look at Jessica. "Didn't know you were a whore, Jess? Maybe Edward knows something I don't." She looks hurt, I couldn't give a shit.

"I was talking about you."

"Really? Could have sworn it's Jessica you're being sloppy with right now."

Everyone at the table laughs. James the loudest.

I turn my attention to Emmett and Rosalie. They've been dating longer than me and Edward were, and are renowned for their house parties.

"So, when is my welcome home party?"

Emmett smiles, "Tonight, of course. Thankfully your genius parents timed it so you arrived back on a Friday. The party can last all weekend."

"Parent," I correct him.

"You know what I meant."

"So it's party time tonight, hell fucking yeah," James chimes in.

James has the right attitude. Maybe I'll let him get to know my tits tonight. I should tape it and send it to Edward. He can show it to Jessica, show her how real girls fuck.

"Tonight it is then."


I know before I even look in my wardrobe what I'm going to wear tonight. It's an outfit I've worn only once before, and Edward had ripped it off me and dragged me back upstairs before I could even leave the house. We'd had angry sex in my bedroom for hours because of this dress. I know instantly that it's perfect. With its noodle straps, love heart neckline and skin hugging material – I know it's guaranteed to enrage him. It stops mid thigh, and the memory of Edward's hand gripping my thigh as he used his other hand to pull my dress up floods my brain. This dress led to some of the best sex of my life. I hope tonight it can cause the same effect. Just not with Edward. I want him pissed off enough to do nothing but sit and sulk, and James turned on enough to fuck Edward out of my system. I'll never have the mental space to get better if I'm constantly consumed with bitter thoughts of Edward and his latest skank.

Tonight is the last time I will play one of these games with him.


I arrive at the party an hour late. It's a rule I learnt last time I lived here – these things take a little while to pick up. This time it's at Rosalie's house, and I'm thankful for that. Her mother, the raging alcoholic that she is, has a fully stocked bar. I make a bee-line for it straight away, saying hello to people as I go.

Ben is the resident DJ for the night, and I smile, realising that they remembered that I prefer his music to Mike's. I've missed living here, I just didn't realise how much until I came back.

James is by the home made bar, and he pours my drink without having to ask. I've always been a Jack Daniels with a dash of coke kinda girl. He also pours us a couple of shots, which we do whilst exchanging flirtatious banter.

"You look almost as good as your tits tonight, Swan."

I take another shot, before I smile at him.

"You're such a charmer."

"Only for you," he replies, immediately pouring us both more shots.

The burn in the back of my throat is pleasant, I haven't really drank since I moved. Paul was a teetotaller and I've never really warmed to the idea of drinking alone. I'd managed to convince Angela to get drunk with me once, but it was a complete disaster.

Taking another shot with James, then two...three, I immediately need a cigarette. It's too hard to quit when you're drinking.

"I'll be back in a minute," I tell James. "I'm just going out back for a smoke."

He shakes his head. "You need to quit that shit. I can't have the mother of my future children being a smoker."

An ache hits my chest and for a moment I can't breathe. Flashes of my little girl run through my brain instantly and I feel as though I'm choking.

James, realising his mistake, calls my name as I rush away from him. I need to get outside where there is air. I can't fucking breath.

I'm out the back door and running to the end of the garden before James can catch me. It's quiet out here, and I'm left alone with my painful memories. Luckily for my, Rosalie's garden is concrete, otherwise my heels would have caught in the grass and I would have fallen on my arse. Fumbling in my bag I find my cigarettes and light one, inhaling the smoke deep into my lungs. It calms me, but not completely. I hold the smoke in for a little longer than is comfortable, resulting in a deep burn in my chest. It's better than the aching pain.

I'm half way through my cig before I realise I'm not alone outside. I hear the soft tones of a girl's voice before I hear the unmistakable voice of Edward. I'm not in the mood to deal with his fucking bullshit at the moment, not with the memory of our daughter so clear in my brain. I'm about to go back in when I hear Edward mention the one thing that would command my attention. The one thing he should never be speaking about with someone other than me.

I walk on my tiptoes closer to the gazebo where he and Jessica are sat. They don't hear me, probably because of the many empty beer bottles I see littered on the table before them.

"I just... It hurts too much... She was so beautiful... too fucking good for us... My beautiful baby girl."

There it is again. The one thing he shouldn't be talking about. Our beautiful baby girl. How fucking dare he speak about her with a skank like Jessica.

A fury like none I've ever known fills me. My first instinct is to storm over there, but I know that will result in angry sex. This time I don't want Edward. I don't want him anywhere near me.

Instead, I turn back to the house and find James. Without words I grasp his hand and lead him up the stairs. Leading him into Rosalie's parent's room, I kiss him with an intensity born of fury, not passion. He won't know the difference. When I take his shirt off, and pull my own dress up over my head, it's not desire driving me, it's revenge.

"Take off your pants," I tell him. I hear none of my usual seduction in my voice, but James must. He removes his pants and boxers at the same time.

"Fuck, I hope your tits look even better in the flesh," he says, leaning over me on the bed, and putting his face in-between my cleavage. My bra unhooks at the front, and within seconds James has it removed in expert fashion.

I pull his head towards me and kiss him as he slips a hand down my panties.

I spend the next twenty minutes trying to rid Edward from my mind. I fuck James harder and faster than I've fucked any but Edward before. He falls asleep afterwards immediately, no doubt exhausted. I leave him there, slipping my dress back on but not bothering with underwear. I'm going straight home anyway.

I leave the party with the knowledge that James will make sure everyone knows what happened between us.


Monday at lunch, I don't bother to look for James. My eyes search out Edward, seemingly of their own accord, and I find him looking at me. No doubt he was watching the entrance, waiting for my arrival.

My usual seat, beside Edward is empty, but I sit next to James.

Fuck you Edward, I'm thinking. I know what you did.

"And how are you this morning, Swan?" James asks.

"Perky," I reply.

"I didn't ask how your tits were, I asked how you were," he jokes.

"Still hung up on my tits?"

"I'll never get over them. Not now they've been under me."

It's like the whole world goes silent for a few seconds. Then, chaos. There is a slam on the table, a screech of a chair, then my hair is being yanked and I'm being dragged from my seat. James begins to protest, and receives a punch to the face for his troubles. Our friends are used to mine and Edward's antics by now, but I guess James decided I'm fair game now we have fucked. I guess I am.

No one else says anything as Edward drags me out the back exit, throwing me into the side of someone's car.

He says nothing for a minute as I rub my sore scalp.

"You fuc-"

"Don't you dare, Edward," I interrupt him.

"I beg your fucking pardon? Don't I dare? Are you kidding me, you slut? You fucked James!"

Disgust for Edward contorts my face, and I'm sure I look as ugly in this moment as he looked to me when he beat up Paul.

"You don't dictate to me who I can and can't fuck. You're fucking Jessica you hypocrite!"

"You fucked that other guy. It was only fair."

"Are you fucking kidding me? This isn't a game of tit-for-tat! I didn't screw James to screw you over, Edward. Not in the way you're thinking, anyway."

"What the fuck does that mean?"

I don't answer, I just laugh. It's a bitter, angry sound.

Hitting the car by my side, he repeats his question.

"I heard your little conversation with skank of the week, Jessica. I heard every fucking word, you prick. I heard you speak to her about our little girl. Our beautiful little girl, you dirty fucking bastard!"

He stares blank faced, obviously shocked that I had heard him. He knows now how deeply he has fucked up.

"Yeah, bet that shocks you doesn't it? You heartless fucking prick. How dare you, Edward! You don't fucking talk about my fucking daughter with one of your skanks, you complete tool!" I'm in-front of him now, forcing him to back away towards the outside benches. People that had eaten lunch there have left their rubbish on the table and I pick up one of their drink bottles.

"You."

I throw the bottle.

"Dirty."

I pick up something else and throw it at him.

"Disgusting."

I throw half an apple.

"Prick!"

Another drink bottle.

"You weren't supposed to hear that," he says, like that makes it okay.

I fling myself at him, pulling his hair and slapping his face.

He shouts his protests, but I ignore him. All that is running through my mind is his words to Jessica. I cannot believe he would speak of our pure, innocent daughter with his latest fuck. It's so insulting to our child that I keep hitting him. Scratching his face, pulling his hair... nothing is calming me.

He tries to control me by gripping my arms and pushing me back on the table. With ease he lifts me onto the top surface, even though I'm still trying to hit him.

I wrap my legs around him and kick at the back of his legs with my heels, as he has control of my hands. Normally this position would lead to one thing and one thing only, regardless of where we are. For once, though, I don't automatically start ripping at his clothes.

"How could you?" I ask, my voice sounding pathetic even to my own ears. For the first time in a long time I start to cry. My body shakes with my violent sobs, but I can't stop. I feel Edward's hands wrap around me, pulling me into his torso to hold me.

I fight him, but my arms are tired and I eventually give in. I let him hold me as I cry. He strokes my hair and apologises, kissing the top of my head for good measure.

"I was just drunk, it was a mistake. I just fucking miss her, like you miss her."

"You should have spoken to me. You shouldn't have gone to her."

"I know. I know. I'm sorry, sweet cheeks. It'll never happen again, I promise. I just feel so guilty about it, and I know you do to. I don't want to burden you with my pain."

I pull my head back so that I can look him in the eyes. "It's my pain too."

His eyes are glossy with unshed tears as he leans down to kiss me. I kiss him back, fisting his shirt. Only Edward can fill the ache in my chest that memories of our daughter brings.


Moments of tenderness between us do not last. As soon as we are back from school he re-starts the argument over James. Fighting soon turns into us tearing each other's clothes off.

Oh fuck, it's been too long since I felt his skin on my skin. Naked we lay, entwined together. He uses one hand to form a vice around both my wrists, holding them above my head. He has the other wrapped around my throat, not enough to cut off any air supply, just enough to show possession. Dominance. His lips are at my ear, whispering obscenities as he thrusts deeper. Slowly, painfully slowly, he moves. It's torturous as much as it is blissful. It's never been like this. If it wasn't for the things he is whispering to me we would almost be making love.

He places some kisses over my neck. His breath is hot as he breathes onto my skin, moving back to my ear.

"You fucking whore."

Slowly out, deeply in.

"I fucking love you."

Slowly out, deeply in.

"You're mine."

Slower, deeper.

"Always fucking mine."

We lay together afterwards, sweaty from our passion – our rage momentarily sated. I roll onto my side to look at Edward – the love of my life, the father of my child. I love and loathe him in equal measure. He inspires such deep hatred in me it is shocking. I've never really felt anything as deep and rooted as my dislike of Edward except my love for him. It's fucked up. We're fucked up.

"I don't think I can live with the guilt, Edward."

"I know, me too."

"I feel like I don't deserve anything good, like I don't deserve to be happy without her here."

He is facing the ceiling, making it easier for us to discuss our feelings.

"I'll find a way to fix it."

"How?"

"Just leave it with me, sweet cheeks."


"What the fuck, Edward?" He's just dragged me out of the shower. Fully naked, with soap in my hair I stand before him in my bedroom. It's two weeks since my welcome home party. We'd continued in our usual fashion of arguments and insults followed by hot sex over this time.

"I've found a way to fix it. I told you I would."

"How?" I ask, desperate to end this endless pain. The not knowing. The guilt.

Reaching into the black bag he is carrying he pulls out two guns.

"We are going to test our guilt on karma."

"Karma?"

"Yep. It's so fucking simple, sweet cheeks. Ever heard of Russian Roulette?"

I nod, staring at the sleek, silver revolvers in his hands.

"Well, we're going to play." He places a single bullet in each gun, spinning the barrel.

I pull my dressing gown from my bed, wrapping it around myself. Somehow I don't think I should be naked in the presence of guns.

Strangely I am not terrified by the knowledge that I could be dead within the next few minutes. Instead I feel a kind of release, but mostly hope. If I don't die, then I could be free of all my guilt. If I die, then I'll be gone...cease...I'll no longer exist.

He hands me one of the revolvers, keeping the other firmly clutched in his hand.

"If we do this, and we live, we will be free. We can put the guilt behind us. We'll know, once and for all if we are the fucking monsters we think we are for giving up our kid."

He sounds so sincere, I whole heartedly believe this is a good idea. The only pure thing we both have is how contrite we are over not being good enough for our daughter.

"Okay," I reply.

He smiles, and strokes my cheek softly. It's a rare moment of comfort between us. "Think about it, sweet cheeks, if the bullet is going to condemn us, then we will be dead before we have a chance to realise it. If the bullet is going to redeem us than we can put all this behind us. All or nothing, right?"

"Right."

I reach my hand out to hold his, as we look each other in the eye. Simultaneously we raise our own gun to our head.

"For our baby girl," I say, and he repeats me.

"One." He counts, then, "Two."

I squeeze his hand. All or nothing. Redemption or condemnation.

"Three." I keep my eyes open and locked on his as I squeeze the trigger.


A/N: Make sure you check out all the amazing entries and thank you for reading.

p.s: The final sex scene was inspired by a picture I was linked to on tumblr. It was a hot picture. ;)