This is a o/s from my story, Fold Your Wings in Edward's PoV. You don't need to read it to understand FYW, but you'd need FYW to understand this. Link to the story is on my profile! If it feels vague in spots, it's intentional. The story is a WIP and I wouldn't wanna give too much away ;)

Here, we get a peek into Edward's head in Chapter 8, when he demands that Isabella meet him at his place at 3 a.m. one morning.

Thanx to my team of Roughie Handlers...RoseArcadia, KlrTwiLuver and stickybuns!

WARNING: Graphic sexual situation below. If it's not your thing, bounce.

Song I rocked to write:

'Sweet Dreams' by Emily Browning


I watch the sun rise.


In the living room...slumped down in a chair, facing the floor to ceiling windows.

Watch it peek out over the horizon and slowly dismiss the black that had settled over the surface of the city.

Watch it burn light across the stiil water of the Puget Sound.

Watch it illuminate the walls of the room until it's so fucking bright that I tilt my head back and close my eyes.

For the first time in hours.

I look to the clock on the wall.

6:46 a.m.

Four hours. Four fucking hours I've sat here and just...stared.

Watching the city...the lights...the sun...and not seeing any of it.

I push the heels of my hands into my eyes...hard.

Until it hurts.

Until there's only bright white behind my eyes.

Until I can't hear her...see her...smell her hair...feel her little hands.


I wrench my hands from my eyes and bury them in my hair, leaning forward, elbows on my knees.

Breathe, Edward. Fucking breathe. Get your shit together.

But memories are a bitch.


And so is the rest of the goddamned world. Today is booked solid, which means it'll be one, long insufferable test of my patience. Meetings, proposals, and another groundbreaking. Incompetent slackers and ignorant half-assers.

I scrub my hands over my face as I think of what a pain in the ass today is going to be. Especially running on only two hours of sleep.

They're getting worse...more frequent.

I stand up and head to the shower, reaching into my pocket for what I know is there.

For what is always there.

And only when I feel the links, warmed from my body heat, do I breathe just a bit easier.



Too far.

I'm running as fast as I can.

My throat and chest burn from the exertion.

But she's too far away.

So fucking far.

I can't reach her.

I fight and push and thrash my arms and legs until I can't anymore.

Until the burn is too much. Until I feel like I might die.

I collapse on my hands and knees...head bowed...panting and wheezing and gasping for breath.

The hurts so fucking bad. It stabs and digs and gouges at me.




I look up...and there she is...bright and soft and beautiful.

My baby girl.

"Daddy's right here. Daddy's coming..."

I reach my hand out to her, but she's still too far from me. I try to rise and only manage to get up on my knees.

"S'okay, Daddy. No cry."

I hadn't even felt the tears, trailing down my face and over my lips.

I reach up and swipe them away, hating that she already saw it. Never wanting her to see me this way.

"I'm okay. It's okay. Come here, baby. Come and see Daddy."

My voice breaks at the end as I stare at her.

The little waves of blonde hair...her wide blue eyes and pouty pink lips.

A sob rips from me, before I can stifle it.

Oh, God.

Please, please let it be real.

Her face falls then.

"I gots to go now, Daddy."

My panic is instant and severe...slicing me right down the middle as I cry out.


Blackness slowly curls in from every direction, billowing and swirling like smoke around the two of us.

Faster and faster it twists and circles us.

I struggle and fight against whatever immobilizes me, keeping me from rising to my feet.

Suddenly, the tempest of black stills in place.

The only sound is my heavy breathing...until I hear her little voice again.

"Carry you, Daddy?"

Her arms are lifted up, reaching for me.

Before I can react, the blackness resumes its tirade. It wraps itself around my baby girl and faster than I can blink...she's gone, just empty air where she once was.


The pain that overtakes me is so fierce, that I collapse to the ground, crippled from the weight of it. It's then that I realize that I've regained my mobility. But it's too late to matter. I roll onto my back and clutch at my chest, writhing and crying out.

"No, God please. NOOOOOOOOOO"

My back shoots off of the bed and I'm sitting upright before I'm even fully awake.

My bare chest heaves and my skin is drenched in sweat.

When my eyes finally focus on the bedroom...

I fall apart...

Clutching the sheets at my sides and screaming out into the strangled voice echoing in the empty room.

Hating the fresh wave of pain that ripples through me each and every time I wake up.

As if it isn't bad enough in the waking hours.

As if I don't suffer every mother fucking day and night.

Every time I think it can't hurt anymore...

Every time I think that it's all that I can take...


It was just a dream...again. They're getting worse. And more frequent.

Every night now.

Every fucking night, it's the same thing.

A different place, a different time, different words spoken...but the same torture.

Over and over and over.

Some are worse than others.

At least tonight, I didn't have to feel her.

I didn't have to hold her in my arms and have her ripped from me.

When I wake, the anger is always heightened.

The constant rage I feel is worse...nothing short of brutal just after I wake.

I stand on shaky legs and walk down the hall and into the kitchen, taking a glass from the cupboard and filling it with ice-cold water.

It burns going down.

I'm pretty sure it's from the screaming.

It's not like I have any way to confirm it, but I know.

I can tell by the raw, scratchy way my throat feels.

I lean against the counter and turn my face when a tiny glint catches my eye.

Fucking wedding invitation. I don't think so.

I make a mental note to have Jacob take care of it.

I have no desire to go there.

To see them.

Thinking of their faces triggers a fresh round of unwanted memories.

Thoughts of a time I want more than anything to forget, but that won't set me free.

Anger and exhaustion merge together and boil through my veins as I pull my arm back, launching my empty glass and watching it shatter against the of the column in the dining room.

I pull at my hair in frustration and stomp back down the hallway in search of my cell, not giving a second thought to the mess. It's what the fuck I pay the maid for.

I need a distraction.

I find it on the nightstand and type a message out to Isabella.

She answers immediately.

Of course she does.

But when I see the words, I grit my teeth and dial her number.

"H-hello?" The pathetic way she answers the phone incenses me.

"Isabella." I don't bother hiding my ire. No fucking point.

"Yes." Her voice is quiet. Weak. I roll my eyes and get to the point.

"I can't is not an acceptable answer. As a matter of fact, I don't recall asking you a question."

I'm pacing the floor at the foot of my bed now, completely wired.

"I...I have to be at work-"

I cut her off, beyond aggravated as she stumbles over her words.

"What time do you get off?"

"Two in the morning"

"My place. Three o', Isabella."

I hit the end button and toss the phone onto the bed.

She'll be here. Of course she will. Five hundred dollars guarantees it.

Greedy fucking whore.


It was harder this time.

The dream.

I could hear her...but I couldn't see her.

I couldn't see anything.

Complete darkness surrounded me, standing between us.

And the crying...

Her little tears...the muffled sniffles.

The one and only thing I did see, was that bitch's smug face just before I came to.

I was a fucking basket case when I finally woke up. It'd felt like I was stuck there for days.

The alarm clock read 2:49 a.m.

A whole fucking three hours of sleep.

I blindly reach across to the nightstand and grab what I know is there.

What is always there as I sleep.

The links are cool now, as they always are when I wake. They feel good...soothing against my heated palm as I hold it, twirling it and slinking it between my fingers.

I startle when I hear a knock at the door, sitting up and stowing my talisman safely inside the nightstand drawer.

I pull out a condom before I close it back, and head for the door.

She's waiting there outside the door, looking flushed and out of breath. Her eyes are scanning me, head to toe.

So fucking typical.

No use in wasting any time.

I pull her in by her arm and slam the door behind her and making my way to the bedroom.

When I push her face down onto the bed, she doesn't even protest.

Just falls in line like always.

The same as when I spread her legs with my knees and hoist her ass up into the air by the panties that I specifically told her not to wear.

She's either deaf or fucking stupid. I couldn't have been any clearer about what a waste of time they are.

I fist them as hard as I can to get my point across to her.

Like a bitch in heat, she juts her ass out and shifts her hips in the air.

She fucking gets off on this shit.

She stays silent when I speak to her, just the way I like it. I have no interest in hearing anything that comes from her mouth.

You heard one lie, you heard 'em all.

Her panties are dripping fucking wet when I shove them in her mouth.

Let's see her forget about them now.

I slap her tight little ass, knowing she'll take it. Knowing I could do just about anything I want to her as long as that little white envelope is there on the table by the front door.

Surprise, surprise. She turned out to be just like all the rest.

"What am I going to do with you, Isabella? Fucking whore that you are. I wonder how many poor bastards have dipped into this. Were you as bad of a listener for them as you are for me, huh?"

I slap my palm against her pussy and shove three fingers inside her, tired of waiting. Ready to get off and get her ass out of my sight. Disgusted at the thought of how many times she's probably done this. Girls like her don't end up where she is on accident.

Bent over, ass up about to be fucked into oblivion for the sake of money.

She fucking bucks back against me and moans, driving my point home.

A different face flashes behind my eyes and I clench them shut, forcing her out of my mind. Hating how the thought of her sneaks up on me, even still.

A surge of anger races through me and I act on it, pulling my fingers out and slapping her soaked little pussy.

One...two...three...four times.

"Even gagged, you can't keep that mouth closed, can you?"

I roll the condom on and climb up and over the top of her, straddling her thighs from behind.

"Maybe I should try it on both ends, huh?"

When she stretches her body out and grips the edge of my mattress, I'm struck with the urge to laugh at her.

She'd done her little song and dance at first. Played the part of a woman whose delicate fucking sensibilities were offended, but here and now...this is what she really is.




Completely void of any goddamned self respect.

Well, she was going to earn every penny.

She so wet, I'll have to change my fucking sheets when she leaves.

I tease her with my cock...sliding it up and down the crack of her ass.

Making her wait.

Making her suffer.

Serves her right.

I slap her ass and talk all the shit I want to her, knowing she won't fight back.

It's fucking pathetic.

She's so worked up I can smell her.

"Greedy...cock hungry...inconsiderate...little...whore."

I slam into her and waste no time setting my pace.



Fucking her without mercy.

I pull back on her hair and drive into her harder and harder.

Wanting to feel something...anything else.

Wanting this to be over...wanting her out of my goddamned sight.

Willing away all of the thoughts that plague me.

Day in and day out.

I close my eyes and concentrate on this. On the burn. On the sensation deep in my abdomen...focusing on it to keep everything-

My concentration is broken when I feel her clamp down on my cock.

She's fucking coming.

I lose my train of thought and the shit storm washes back over me, dominating my head and overpowering my composure.


I fuck her even harder...even faster.

Barely feeling a thing this time.

Just wanting to end this.

To get her the fuck out of here...before I break.

I can feel my composure slipping away.

It's starting.

Fuck, not now.

Not yet.

Just before I come, I snatch her ass up into the air and penetrate her even last ditch effort to wrap this shit up.

I drop her back to the bed and pull out, ripping the condom off and shoving my cock back in between her ass cheeks. I push them together around myself and come down her back and ass.

I back away from her and the bed, careful in my breathing until I'm behind the bathroom door.

I close and lock it, sinking to the floor and pressing my back against the cold tile of the wall behind it.

My chest is tight and my hands begin to sweat.

I try to concentrate on my slow it down.

My fucking heart is pounding in my chest so hard, I can hear it in my ears.

Pulling my knees to my chest, I press my forehead to them and pray that this time, it passes faster.


Hope you enjoyed this little peek into Roughie's head. Was it what you were expecting? Not at all? Do you want to feed Roughie his balls? Toss Isabella an ice pack? Hold on tight for me...answers are a-comin!