Caught in the Flames

Chapter Thirty-One

Okay, so I'm starting something new. I'm one of those writers that I have to have a ton on my plate or I get bored. I doplan on finishing all of my WIPs, but I wanted to try something different. Anyhow, this will be a drabble-ish fic. My chapters will be a thousand words or less, unless the chapters lend themselves to something longer (i.e., a lemon...). We're also going to be switching back and forth, every five chapters between our two favorite characters, Edward and Bella...

As always, none of this is mine. I'm just the perv who want to make our beloved Twilight characters swear, drink, and go at it like horny rabbits. This story will be a combination of love, suspense, some violence and steamy, sweaty sex.

On with it!

Chapter Thirty-One

I sat anxiously at a table at the Whispers Café. I had spent all morning dealing with the police and answering questions regarding who could have set fire to my garage. I knew it was James. It was a given. He was number one on my list of possible suspects. After the cops left, I took a shower and had my SUV towed, sold for scrap metal. I also contacted the contractor who had upgraded my brownstone, asking him to rebuild my garage. He assessed the damage, working with my home owner's insurance rep, cutting a deal to fix it. I tried to take a nap, but it was fruitless.

I was more anxious about seeing Edward. When I saw him pull up in the fire truck, my heart stammered against my chest. The same feeling of protection and warmth washed over me. I knew he was pissed. He had every right to be. But, after that night at Clear Waters, I knew that I needed help. The bullshit excuses I was giving them were reverberating in my brain. I dialed Jasper,finding his name on the roster of Northwestern Memorial. I asked him for a name but wanted it kept quiet. He said that he couldn't say anything even if he wanted to. I dialed the number, getting into to see someone on the Tuesday following that disastrous night at Clear Waters.

I spoke with my therapist, Pam, about everything and anything. I saw her three times a week. During that second week, I finally told her my story. We'd been working on my grief, my inability to trust and my anxiety ever since. I'm not cured by any stretchof the imagination, but I'm finally working through the hell that I lived through for the three and half years I was with James. I'm coming to terms that my mother is a selfish, self-serving bitch who doesn't care about me.

I'm living for today and focusing on the future.

All throughout the month that I was incommunicado with Edward, I did stay in touch with Alice. We got together for lunch a few times. I told her that I was seeking professional help. She asked why I hadn't called Edward. My response was that I didn't want to rely on him. She was confused by that.

I needed to tell Edward why I ignored him before I spilled the beans to his sister. She'd been great, even coming to a few sessions with me with Pam. I was slowly opening myself up to Alice. She was becoming one of my closest friends. I could tell that she was also fiercely loyal. I could trust her. I wanted to trust her. After living most of my life, not trusting people, it was aweird feeling. The only person I trusted was Grams. Not my mom. Definitely not James or Phil. I didn't have much a relationship with my father to trust him.

"Is this seat taken?" asked a velvety voice.

"By you," I said, gesturing to it. Edward gracefully sat down. He had cleaned up significantly since I saw him this morning. His hair was shorter, but disheveled. His face was clean shaven and he still wore his wayfarers. "I got you some coffee. I didn't know what you liked..."

"Plain black," he said, taking the cup from me. He took a sip. "This is definitely better than the mud they try to pass off as coffee at the house."

"I like it. I come here to work when the weather's nice," I said. Blowing out a breath, I leaned forward. "First off, I want to apologize..."

"You have nothing to apologize for," he said.

"No, I do. I have two mental breakdowns in the course of three days. That wasn't normal," I sighed. "I wasn't normal. Despite what I told you that night, I needed help. I called Jasper the next day, asking for the name of a therapist. I've been seeing Pam three days a week since that day."

"Has it helped?" Edward asked.

"Somewhat. Will I ever be normal? Probably not, but I'm trying," I quipped sadly. "For most of my life, I've taken care of people and I do not trust anyone. At all. My mom was a mess, relying on me to manage everything in our shithole apartment. Grams tried to help us, but whatever money she gave my mom, Renee gambled away so she just stopped sending money. I'd visit Grams as much as I could, but the responsible adult in me couldn't abandon my mother. Then, couple that with my toxic relationship with James? I'm a fucking mess."

"I wouldn't go that far," Edward smirked.

"Oh, I would. I was fucked up. I'm still fucked up," I shrugged. "Then, you walked in."

"Me?"

"Yeah," I sighed. "When I was with you, I felt normal. I felt happy. I felt like I did before I went through this nightmare. You knowthe butterflies?" He nodded, smiling crookedly. "They erupted in my belly around you. That terrified me. You made me feel something that I wasn't expecting. Ever."

"What's that?"

"You made me feel safe, protected, secure, as weird as it sounds, loved," I snorted. "I didn't want to rely on it. I didn't want to use you as a crutch."

"That's why you pushed me away?" he asked.

"Pushed is putting it lightly," I deadpanned. "I kicked your ass out the door and I hated myself for it. The one person to make me feel whole again and I locked you out of my life." I looked up at him. He was staring at me, his glasses off his face and his verdant eyes piercing through mine. "I can understand if you don't want anything to do with me. I just...I wanted to get better before we continued whatever it was we were starting."

"A friendship..."

"Edward, do you look at Emmett the way you're looking at me?" I asked, arching a brow. He blushed, shaking his head no. "You and I both know that what we're both feeling is a lot more than friendship."

"You feel the same way?" he asked.

"Yeah, and that's what scares me."

A/N: More of this conversation is coming up next chapter. Pictures of Whispers Café are up on my blog. Please don't hate Bella. Please? Pretty please? With an Edward on top?

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