Preventive • Paul Lahote •

Chapter Twelve

It was a mistake, going to Quil while she was hurting. Maddison knew that she did not have feelings for Quil, but the fact that he was another person ignoring her calls and missing class after their little "incident" did nothing but cause her heart to hurt a bit more. The rejection, no matter if she really didn't have a romantic attraction for Quil, was enough to leave a bitter taste in her mouth as the days went by without seeing him.

She was frustrated. No irritated. No. No, she was irate.

The constant rejection and isolation had her blood fuming in a way that she did not understand. She was used to loss, the past few years she had experienced plenty, but Quil's disappearance was enough to cause her to feel like she was literally boiling under her skin. So, when news of Quil being seen on the Reservation with the Uley gang reached her ears, she felt like a fire beneath her skin was going to burst out from between her fingers and scorch the whole tribe. The unlucky victim of her rage, however, was not surprising. Maddison had decided two days after being ignored by Quil and the other members of Uley's gang that the first overgrown idiot to cross her path would be on the receiving end of her fury. As fate would have it, that fury would be directed at none other than Paul Lahote.

She was walking around the Res, since she had nothing better to do. Kicking little stones, not so gently, as she directed the boiling fury between her veins at anything that crossed her path. Supposedly, there are "stages of grief": Denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance. These stages are supposed to happen during a "traumatic event or loss" and in that order so that one can find closure. Maddison spent a long time in the depressive period, but instead of moving on to acceptance, it seemed that she had relapsed back into anger. An anger, so consuming, that when she noticed Paul Lahote standing near the cliffs, she couldn't help but imagine pushing him into the icy waters below.

"Lahote!"

Paul quickly turned to see Maddison storming towards him. He was worried, he had not even heard the girl approaching but her murderous expression let him know that he was not going to be avoiding this confrontation. While unintentional, his face broke into the smallest smirk seeing his imprint marching towards him. He knew that she was not trying, in any manner, to make him happy for her approach but he couldn't help the swell of pride in his chest at the vengeful beauty that was marching towards him. He shook his head with a small smile, for she would kill him if she could hear his thoughts. She was never one for romance, or romantic monologues. No, she was all passion and vengeance, but even that was beautiful in his eyes. Up until the moment that her fist came barreling across his cheek.

Maddison did not know what came over her, the anger she had been harboring needed a release and, without her conscious decision, found itself white knuckled across Paul's face.

Paul was surprised at Maddison's violence, but quickly found himself more startled as she shook her hand off and pushed his chest.

"You piece of shit! Cason leaves, Mom leaves, you leave, Embry leaves, Jacob leaves, and you still had to take Quil!"

Normally, Paul would have been fully shifted and attacking whatever was infront of him by this point, but he was using everything in his power to conceal his growing rage and to suppress the beast. Clenching his teeth, Paul responded to the girl who was continuing to push his shoulders with astounding strength.

"Maddison, you need to stop."

Maddison released a bitter laugh as she continued to push on Paul's chest.

"Or what? You'll have everyone stop speaking to me? Too bad, everyone already is! You gunna sick the whole gang on me? Will that make you feel better?"

Nothing about the situation was making Paul feel better. As he continued to restrain himself, knowing that Jared was supposed to be coming to relieve his patrol any moment, he struggled between shifting and crying out in frustration.

"Maddison, I know you're angry, but you need to stop. Go. Home."

Paul grabbed Maddison by her arms and pinned them to her side. While she stilled, her face still showed the anger and hatred that she had for the man before her. Her blue eyes, that he expected to be watery with tears, were dry and glaring at him between drawn brows. Her eyes were a vivid blue, dark brows pulled low, pink lips curled up in distaste, and she was showing her teeth in an almost primal rage.

"I'm not going home without a fight. Fight me, Paul."

He rolled his eyes at the girl that he already had pinned. If she wasn't his imprint he could guarantee that she would already be shredded before those words could have even left her mouth. While he literally could not help but love her, he was making it very hard to protect her.

"You're pinned, Mads. Go. Home."

She rolled her eyes and in a swift move, rotated her arms with such strength that she broke Paul's grasp off of her arms. Paul was shocked by the move and it allowed her the time to give him another harsh shove backwards. His anger was growing, and if it reached a point where it matched hers, he knew that she would not walk away from him alive.

"Maddison. Stop. I don't want to hurt you."

His dark eyes glared at her, in contrast to the soft spoken words. Maddison let a bitter smile crawl across her face, the rage that had been leading her actions fueling her with adrenaline leaving her pleased at the prospect of a fight.

"You've already done everything you could possibly do to hurt me, Paul. Now, do the one thing you haven't done."

Maddison meant the words to ignite a physical altercation between the two, for the one thing he had not done to her was literally throw a punch, but Paul found a way to hurt them both ten times worse.

Forcing himself to not shift, Paul knew that he needed to ground himself so that he wouldn't murder Maddison, and the only way he figured he could do that, was through her. Launching himself across the small space that divided them, Paul grabbed onto Maddison. She resisted at first, thinking that this was his attempt at subduing her, but when his lips planted themselves firmly against hers, she stilled.

Maddison, ever since she was twelve and started dreaming about boys, had fantasized about what it would be like to kiss Paul Lahote. It always started out the same, he would be laughing at some sarcastic comment she made and he would just lean over out of impulse. She had envisioned it so perfectly, so many times, that the reality was hard to comprehend. It wasn't right. It wasn't supposed to happen after she had punched him. It wasn't supposed to be this rough. It wasn't supposed to be this demanding. It wasn't supposed to happen like this... but it was.

Maddison's fist that had been beating against Paul's chest stilled as he pulled her closer to him. He was so warm, she could barely differentiate between the fire under her skin and his own. His mouth was moving against hers in a way that was so demanding and needy that she found her rage slowly ebbing away as she responded.

No, it wasn't supposed to happen like this.

And it definitely wasn't supposed to end like this.

Paul pulled away from her and ran into the woods before she could even discern that his body heat had separated from her own. Leaving her standing, still with her skin burning in the middle of the Res, Maddison looked towards the tree line but Paul was long gone.

Her hand came up to touch the lips that had just done what she had long dreamed about, but rather than feel swollen plump lips like she always imagined she would, all she felt was chapped lips against a feverish cheek.