leon

It's a rookie mistake, and a profoundly stupid one.

It's been a shitty couple of weeks since I yelled at Jasper; the Cullens had left me alone in that they hadn't approached me after work, but someone was always watching when I left work and trailing me as I walked home. It was frustrating because I didn't understand how or when it would end - the bitter part of me was convinced that they'd end up getting bored and just leave again without a word. And that I shouldn't get used to having invisible bodyguards following me around.

I'd ended up picking up extra shifts to try and save some money; I was perpetually exhausted and starving since I hadn't done any grocery shopping in weeks. Instead, I'd been living off my perpetual stockpile of peanut butter, the heinous cold brew from the convenience store on my way to work, and snacks in the break room. I would have sold some of my organs for a burger or, like, a homecooked lasanga.

So when one of my co-workers, Madi, needed some extra bodies for a party with some businessmen, I had agreed. There had been a dozen of us in the private room in the main part of the club, with drinks flowing, hot food (I had smuggled two hot slices of pizza into the bathroom and eaten them like a rabid wolf), and when Madi had brought out the baggie of coke…

Well, I should have said no. I didn't do drugs beyond weed a couple of times with the guys in the apartment opposite on my days off (until they found out I was under twenty-one, then the invitations dried up). But I was tired, I was still mad at Jasper and the Cullens, I had a couple of cocktails clouding my judgement, and I was high on my first hot meal in two weeks. Giggling with some of the other girls, it seemed like a harmless idea. Like maybe it was a milestone I had missed out on, not going to college straight out of high school. Or like maybe it would fix everything - or fix me.

Everything was kind of a blur for a while. I was happy and giggling and dancing. I didn't care that one of the clients wouldn't keep his hands to himself, or that I couldn't have told you which way the door was, let alone gotten home safely. I had definitely had too much to drink.

Sometimes, I am not a smart girl. It didn't fix anything.

Which is how I found myself sitting on the curb with a migraine pressing at my temples, a roll of cash tucked into my hoodie pocket, and a nose bleed that wouldn't fucking stop. Oh, and I couldn't stop crying - I'd shut myself in the bathroom for the last half an hour of the party before one of the other girls had helped smuggle me out.

"Oh, Alice."

It's Esme tonight and she looked at me like I was a dying puppy. She gingerly sits next to me on the curb in her pristine coat and designer heels. For a second, I am resentful that she's acting like sitting next to me is so revolting, but then I remember that my nose is still bleeding and my right sleeve is soaked in my fresh blood. I was surprised - I assumed I was anemic.

"What happened, sweetheart?"

For a moment, I just want to word vomit everywhere. To spill every hope and fear and secret I have tucked up. To admit to Esme that I was broken long before I met the Cullens, and any hope of a happy ending - even with goddamn vampires - had been gutted and destroyed the second they left without a word. They were another scar on a miserable fucking life. That for a second, I thought I might have had a family of sorts. A soft, safe place to be. I had talked about it with Jasper so many times; that they didn't need to care for me, I was capable of working and I got free college tuiton through the state because I had been in the system. I just needed them to give me that chance. Jasper had sworn over and over again that of course the Cullens would pay my tuition for any subject I wanted, that I should only work if I wanted to, that they would love me.

And instead, I was sitting in the gutter wearing a hoodie and sweatpants with blood running down my face, trying to earn enough money to survive in college - to study for a career I didn't want but would make sure I was never cold or scared or hungry again.

But I don't. Because my days of spilling my heart out for people are over.

"Bad night," I sniffle, holding my sleeve up to my face. I am so thirsty.

//

I'm home late from my Wednesday shift, and Jasper is clearly antsy as I walk in.

This new arrangement is strange as hell; it feels surreal and like I'm a part of a play most of the time. I don't admit it, but it's nice to come home to someone. The apartment is warmer with his presence; he's taken over the sleeping loft with his books and laptop since I never used it and had given up arguing about getting a proper bed up there. My futon was fine, and honestly felt safe when we were playing house like this. I didn't want to fall into the strange roles the Cullens seemed to relish in, but especially not husband-and-wife when I was only twenty. It felt Biblical, and not in a good way.

If the abandonment had done one kind thing for me, it had strengthened my boundaries. I wouldn't do a damn thing until I was ready. And that included sleeping arrangements, especially when Jasper didn't sleep and we wouldn't be having sex. Somehow, sleeping beside him felt intimate in a way that still left me cold. Hell, it had taken weeks for me to get used to sleeping with him in the apartment; having people around me when I slept brought back terrible memories.

I knew Jasper was surprised about how slow we were taking things, but I had warned him. Multiple times. It did make me curious about what my emotions felt like, but I hadn't asked him. I just wanted time.

Still, it was nice to have him here. Especially when he always made sure there was food waiting - hot, fresh food that he'd order in or go and pick up. That was still a novelty and delight. And laundry just being done.

"How was work?" Jasper's question is calm and warm, but I watch as his shoulders relax. I know it takes everything in him not to meet me every single night and walk me through the streets. But I had insisted. I refused to let him make me feel that vulnerable. I had walked home dozens of nights alone, I had my taser and my pepper spray. It wasn't even a long walk.

"Boring," I said, slinging my bag onto the bench next to the chair - something Jasper had bought me from a thrift shop, and helped me paint on the building roof some weeks ago. "Which I love."

"Good." He's already unpacking my food for me with the precision of a surgeon. "Go shower, I'll fix your plate."

It's still strange. It's like an echo of the sitcoms I'd watch as a child; coming home from work to dinner; no yelling or mess or worries. But it's still a shitty loft apartment that I work a shitty job to pay for, and try to set aside enough to one day get a college degree that I'm not excited about, so I can rent a less shitty apartment. It's like a big bunch of bright coloured flowers but most of them are falling to pieces or the petals have gone brown.

As I peel off my clothing and step into my shower, the traitorous little voice in my head reminds me that it would be so easy to have the real sitcom life in a nice apartment, wearing nice clothing, going to college to study whatever I want. Jasper has already told me that; any degree, any college, any city. I wouldn't have to work. We could even have our own place, just the two of us. He'd put it in my name, so that I always had a home.

I'd refused. I didn't trust any of it. He said that he understood, but the offer was always on the table. And then he'd offered to get me a nicer place in Seattle, no questions asked.

That had felt too big and scary as well. Like a commitment I wasn't ready to make when I still didn't entirely trust that he wasn't going to leave me again.

"So, I need to talk to you about something," Jasper said. His voice is warm but there's something there - sadness or worry, I think. I'm too busy inhaling my dinner to really analyze it.

"If it's the building manager, I paid the rent on my way upstairs tonight," I said. I swear, Jasper always knew exactly where the find the good take-out, even if he didn't eat. This burrito bowl was the food of the gods. "He's such a dick, I've texted him about the washer-dryer three times this month, and he ghosted me but less than twenty four hours after the rent is due, and he's acting like that…"

"No, he doesn't talk to me." I snorted with laughter; of course he didn't. The manager was one of those shitstains that liked to intimidate and harass. Jasper would scare the shit out of him. "And… I had Emmett come around to look at the washer. It's working again."

I paused, fork mid-way to my mouth. "Emmett?" I repeated. I still hadn't forgiven Emmett or Rosalie for hacking into my CPS files. Or Carlisle for wanting to see my medical history. Honestly at this point, the only one who hadn't pissed me off, broken my trust, or treated me like total garbage was Bella; she was pretty much the only one I was still talking to when I ventured towards the Cullen residence - which was rare since Jasper had essentially moved in.

"You needed it fixed and Emmett is surprisingly good with appliances. It was a quick fix, and I asked him," Jasper said, looking apologetic.

I nodded, frowning, but resumed eating. On the grand scale of things, Emmett repairing my shitty washer-dryer was the least he could do. And I needed it working again; we were headed into fall, and dragging my shit to the laundromat in the rain had to be on my list of horrible tasks.

"Emmett mentioned they all wanted to fix things," Jasper continued. "And I had no idea they were planning this. To tell you the truth, I'm wondering if they lost their collective minds. They wanted to surprise you with it."

"Good surprise or bad surprise?" I asked, pushing my empty plate away.

"The worst fucking surprise I can think of," Jasper said honestly, and I laughed. "I would honestly rather be back in Texas that having to tell you what they did."

"Oh, it can't be that bad. A bedroom in their place? A family vacation?" I asked flippantly. "Oh god, did Carlisle buy the club? That would be so fucked up, Jas. I do not have it in me to find another club that lets me set my own rules, and pays me that much. I do not want to have to find a new job because Carlisle closed down my place of employment or turned it into some culty community outreach center for unemployed sex workers."

Jasper snorted. "No, that would be less invasive," he said, taking my hand and pulling me with him to lie on the futon. Fresh, clean bedding was already folded on it; Jasper had done my laundry and little gestures like that… well, maybe I wasn't as cold as I feared I was.

"Okay, now I'm nervous," I wiggled into a comfortable position. "Tell me, what wanton act of apology have they committed?"

Jasper grimaced. "They did not tell me any of this until today," he began. "They went back through your file and thought they would… help.

"They found your mother, Alice."