“I let him in the house, don’t I?” Charlie said.

…She’s lucky I don’t shoot him and bury him the woods for leaving her the way he did out there, all alone…

I automatically frowned as Charlie remembered the image of Bella leaving the woods with assistance. I unsuccessfully struggled to push it away, but the image hit me despite my attempt to shut it down. It felt no stronger than my current version from Jacob's mind, but it was different. It was clouded with feelings of anger. Anger for me…

Then, suddenly, something snapped. Somehow, I’d missed a detail before…

In the vision from Charlie, a minute smudge of dirt was caked above her right cheek as she stumbled from the woods. I couldn’t believe I’d missed that before. What had she done then to get that smudge in such an unlikely position? She looked so cold, so white, and so broken. I shuddered again, trying to block him out of defense. I was partially successful then as my attentions diverted to the sound of Bella’s voice.

“You do, for brief periods. Of course, you might let me out of the house for brief periods now and then, too. I’ve been pretty good lately,” she said.

Little liar. I chortled and quickly remembered our fiasco from just last night. The sensational memory of our touching and breathing was soaked into my mind. She’d laid against my chest as I’d cradled her warmth towards me. My hands were relentlessly tangled into her thick hair as she’d rested. She was fighting sleep at first, but she began to lose the battle as soon as I’d began to hum her lullaby.

And then, I'd heard Charlie’s thoughts. In a split second, he’d decided to check on Bella.

Before he’d turned the handle to her door, I had found myself hidden in her closet. I'd stifled my breath and she pretended to sleep, throwing in a light toss and turn for the effect. We’d waited carefully until Charlie was satisfied enough to shut the door and trudge off to his room. In three swift steps, I'd been snuggled up against her again. I had noticed then that her cheeks were a beautiful high color. Eventually, she’d admitted she’d been scared and we'd quietly laughed together until I’d resumed the humming of her lullaby and she drifted off to sleep…