Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, ect., are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Warnings: Rated Mature for language, gore and adult situations. Readers under the age of 18 are discouraged from reading.
Summery: Bella Swan, college student and native of Phoenix Arizona is ready to start her new life near her father in Forks. Where will Sam Uley fit in? Shifters, Imprints and Vampires. Imprint Story. Sam x Bella
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| Charlie and Sue's |
Chapter Five
Drunken Officer’s and Randy Pack Mates
It didn’t take long to distinguish Hank Williams Jr. blaring from my father’s ancient CD player as soon as Sam pulled up to the small two story blue house.
“Holy shit,” I declared. “He’s already drunk!”
Sam gave me that look, you know the one; his brow was furrowed and his eyes squinted in concentration. It was that, “How the fuck do you know?” look.
“What this world needs is a few more rednecks… people with the nerve to take a stand. What this world needs is a little more respect… for the Lord and the law and the working man…”
“Oh yeah,” I giggled. “He’s definitely drunk.”
Sam grinned, handing me the pie carrier as he reached behind the seat and grab the color he brought just for me. What can I say, I like my Red Bull cold.
“Listen…” I told him.
“What this world needs is a few more rednecks…” Charlie bellowed from somewhere in the house, I could practically see him shimmying around Sue’s special nacho dip, some kind of hard alcohol in his hand, dodging empty cans of Vitamin R. “We could use a little more peace and satisfaction…”
I laughed harder. “Do you doubt me?”
Sam was already doubled over laughing, holding his mouth and trying his best not to snort like a pig. “See,” I told him, laughing harder myself. “I’m not you’re not the only one with embarrassing genes.”
As I’m telling him this, the song changes and Charlie staggers onto his front porch; White Russian in hand and his officers ball-cap sitting askew on his head and he’s bellowing into the crisp afternoon air like a cat on a hot tin roof to Jerry Reeds finest.
“East bound and down, loaded up and truckin’ a’we gonna do what they say can’t be done. We got a long way to go, and a short time to get there, I’m east bound just watch ol’Bandit run!”
“Dear god, make it go away.” I groan, leaning into Sam’s side to hide my blushing face. I mean, c’mon dad… you couldn’t have at least waited till I was shit-faced.
Sam must have found the whole thing terribly funny, cause he’s still hunched over laughing so hard he’s not even making noise anymore. He’s stuck in one of those painful belly laughs, you know the one; where you can’t even suck in enough oxygen to make it audible.
“What the hell is going on out-” Jacob asks from behind me, but cuts himself off cause he already figured it out. I turn around just in time to see Sam fall to the dirt and for Jake to let out his own bark of a laugh as Charlie continues to screech on, oblivious to the fact that he’s making a complete ass of himself and we’re all laughing at him.
Keep your foot hard on the peddle,
son never mind them breaks,
let it all hang out ‘cause we’ve got a run to make.
The boys are thirsty in Atlanta
and there’s beer in Texarkana,
and we’ll bring it back no matter what it takes!
“White Russians?” Jake asks nonchalantly.
“Yep,” I reply with a shrug of the shoulder.
So, instead of trying to bypass my completely tanked father and end up flat on my ass when he tries to dance with me, I popped out one of the lawn chairs that had been discarded when Sam turned into the dirt-eating, howler monkey on the ground and grabbed two beers and my fifth of rye whiskey from the cooler.
“Shot?” I offer. Jake looks up at me and nods like a bobble head.
Yeah, this shit is quite terrifying.
But just as I took a long pull from my beer thinking that nothing could be worse than my drunk ass dad badly slurring along with ‘Cletus Snow’, Billy rolls out the door with a six pack of Rainier across his lap and looking just as twisted as Charlie.
Oh, good lord… And together they sing:
“East bound and down, loaded up and truckin’ a’we gonna do what they say can’t be done. We got a long way to go, and a short time to get there, I’m east bound just watch ol’Bandit run!”
This time it’s Jake’s turn to groan, and I couldn’t really blame him, especially as seeing his sister Rachel, Sue, Leah, Seth, Paul, Emily and Kim all happened to pull up at the same moment.
Yeah, this ought to be interesting.
“Charlie!” Sue scolds, “What on earth!” Yep, somebody’s in trouble…
Sam, who had finally gotten a hold of himself when Sue tongue lashing came into play, rises to his feet, brushing the dust of his thighs and calves… Oh holy bat-shit… those legs!
Are they even legal in this state?
Is it fucked up that I want to molest those thighs?
What the fuck is wrong with me?
It hasn’t even been two days around this man and already I wound up tighter than piano strings. I’ve been with good looking men before, possibly even better looking than Sam, maybe. But there was just something about him. Hell, it was everything about him. From his devastatingly bright smile that made the skin around his eyes crinkle, to the way his honey colored eyes came to life when I teased him, everything about him made me crazy. Crazy in the sense that I wanted to jump on his dick and yell ye-haw.
Something was definitely wrong with me.
“See mom, this is what happens when you marry a pale-face.” Leah commented with a snort of her own.
With out really thinking about how the woman built like a brick-shithouse could probably re-arrange my face without so much as breaking a sweat, I swatted at her head. “Hey!”
To my surprise and I’m guess Sam’s too, if his open mouth a wide eyes were anything to go by, she laughed and threw her hands up in mock surrender. “Give it up, B… you Swan’s are fucking crazy.”
Charlie stilled for a second, scratching his head. “I resemble that.” He slurred and then yelled. “Hey Kevin! Switch out the disk, will you?”
I didn’t have a clue who this Kevin was but apparently everyone else did as they pulled off the best collectively unified groan I’d ever heard, shortly followed by Sue muttering. “I’m going to kill that bastard.” Oh yeah, daddy was in the dog house now.
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| Charlie and Sue |
The rest of the night went off without a hitch for the most part. True to my previous thoughts, Sue did scold the shit out of Charlie for his behavior at such a public event. I so badly wanted to call her on that, because I seem to remember when she was still married to Harry she went and got real shit-faced right before a council meeting. A fucking council meeting. Plus, I’ve heard all about Bingo Fridays.
In the end she really didn’t give Charlie that hard of a time. We did the dinner thing, which I might have almost been sick if I had actually tried to eat anything. It really shouldn’t have been as big of a shock as it was, I had seen Sam eat after all, but he’s enormous. But when all of them started shoveling, my insides turned a little and reminded me that indigestion was a terrible thing.
A little while later we did the whole Cake and Presents thing, to which my beloved Quil took a wooden spoon to the head for buying Sue a pink, glittery vibrator. I was sure the guy had a concussion after that, she did break the spoon over his mentally retarded, over sexed head. But for the most part everything went down as it should.
Well… kind of, anyway.
I mean yeah, Collin did throw up in my pie carrier and Brady did grab my ass thinking I was someone named Amelia but for the greater part, it was a lot of fun.
Well, maybe not so fun for Brady… who was now sporting a broken nose. I’m not really sure what he did to piss Sam off so much, but he was sure paying for it now.
I was still kind of shocked at the way it went down. Leah, Emily, Kim and myself were trading war stories over a second fifth of whiskey. Some of the boys were milling around and throwing out crass comments here and there, when Sam stormed through the kitchen and slammed Brady into the refrigerator.
The poor kid looked so damn terrified, I wasn’t really sure what to make of the situations. He was trembling… well, both of them were and then out of no where Sam just knocks the shit out of him and drops him to the ground.
Which is why I’m standing out side waiting for Sam to come back from his walk through the woods, a cool off walk is what Jacob called it.
When he did break through the tree-line it was easy to tell he was drunk, very drunk, possibly drunker than he was the night before.
“Bella…” he slurred as he saddled up beside me on Charlie’s front step. “What are you doing out here?”
“Waiting for you,” I replied in honesty. “I was worried. What the hell happened in there?”
The poor guy looked miserable. Miserable and drunk.
He sighed, running a hand through his dark hair sloppily before turning his bloodshot eyes on me. “I honestly don’t know… he was touching you and…”
I cut him off there. Standing up and grabbing his gianormous hand. “Come on big guy. Let’s go hash this shit out.”
~ Sam ~
I felt like shit and I’m not even sure I know why.
If it had been Paul, Jared or even Mr. Sunshine Jacob Black; they would all have reacted the same way. Bella Swan was an imprinted female. One that had yet to be claimed formally and marked. And it apparently turned me into a possessive, club wielding neanderthal. The club being my fist.
And it made me feel like shit.
Brady wasn’t a bad kid. In fact he was one of the easier pack members to deal with most of the time, and yet I knocked him on his ass because of a measly ass-grab.
Fuck!
He didn’t even realize it was Bella until I had pinned against the fucking fridge, all but ready to beat him to death with his own arms. Why the fuck Embry thought it was even necessary to tell me is was beyond my comprehension.
It was a stupid thing to do and if I had been any more inebriated than I already was, I might have accidentally killed him.
So what did I do?
I ran.
Like a little bitch… and not at all like the powerful male wolf I am.
And I got drunk. Fucking wasted really.
But I just felt… so fucking awful. I had hit one of my pups. One of my brothers who I’ve sworn to protect.
And over what?
A woman.
My woman.
My woman that had no clue that she was my woman.
I think I’m starting to lose a grip on it all. It should be easy; imprinting. But it wasn’t, not for me. I’m at war with myself and I honestly don’t think I’ve ever fought in a harsher battle. Part of me, the strong instinctual part of me, wants nothing more than grab her by the hand, take her to my den and fuck her senseless. I’d sort out the details later.
But the human part of Sam Uley is desperate. No, more than desperate to have her love me all on her own. If that is even fucking possible.
This is all new. Exciting and scaring at the same time.
There’s never been an imprint like Tink before. She white and light and absolutely fucking clueless as to what I really am. There’s never been an imprint outside of La Push, well, excluding Emily. But even then, she was at least aware of her imprint. Being Leah’s cousin meant that she had at least been around Paul every summer and most holidays since she was in diapers.
But my imprint hasn’t even seen the shores of my homeland since she was a teenager. Sure if she was Jacob’s imprint there wouldn’t have been a problem. At least there was some kind of foundation for them to build on. For me though, I was flying blind.
I knew for a fact that she was drawn to me, it was one of those things that was hard not to notice. A blind man would notice the charged energy in the air whenever she was close. The way she would gravitate in my direction no matter where we were or what she was doing. Hell, I was damn sure Charlie had noticed. Sue had to elbow him, twice, for the nasty glares he sent me all through dinner. The fact he was drunk didn’t help matters. It was apparent to me and every other wolf at the table that he was two seconds from unlatching his teeth from his tongue and exposing me to his daughter in front of everyone. Even I knew that wouldn’t have gone down well.
For as free-spirited as Tink was, mostly due to her mother, I didn’t think drawing attention to the thirty some-odd people gathered in the Swan-Clearwater household would make her very happy. Tink, as crazy as she was, was a fairly private person.
God, what was I gonna do?
Should I just blurt it out. “Hey baby, so I need to tell you something: You see, I’m a shape-shifter. I turn into a gigantic-ass wolf whenever someone pisses me off. Oh, and the squirrelly Indian gods dubbed you my mate, so bend over and lets make a litter. Yeah, and before I forget, I fixin’ to fuck you like an animal and bite you because I’m a possessive caveman.”
I’m sure she would just jump into my all-to willing arms and shout. “Oh yes, Sam, fuck me like the randy beast you are.”
It sounded lame, even in my own head.
Maybe getting drunk wasn’t as good of an idea as I previously thought?
In a sudden epiphany, I decided I would get her to at least date me before unleashing my secret upon her, but even then I wasn’t so sure I wanted to tell her about the imprint. The thought of her choosing to be with me out of guilt was enough to make my stomach turn.
It was a disgusting thought, to tie that beautiful woman to me because she didn’t want me to suffer. And that was exactly the kind of person Tink was.
She wasn’t a push-over by any means, but she had that kind of subtle selflessness about her that I knew, I fucking knew she would bind herself to my wolf out of sheer good heartedness. I had no doubts.
With the constant mind-fucking circle-jerk of thoughts buzzing a mile a minute through my head, I almost missed the fact that she was waiting for me when I stumbled out of the woods behind the Swan-Clearwater residence.
God she was beautiful.
Even under the shallow tint of the overhead, porch lighting, I had never seen a more stunning vestige. Yep, go ahead and snip them balls. Maybe I’ll send them to a taxidermist for mounting. That way Bella wouldn’t be lonely when she turns me away after finding out what a complete pussy I am. That would count for something, right?
Like a wolf-imprint kill of honor. The plague would read. “Here stands the balls of Samuel Adams Uley: Pussy extraordinaire.
Getting drunk was definitely a bad idea.
After patting my crotch to make sure that my balls hadn’t scampered off into the night, I sucked in a deep breath and pulled up my man-pants. “Bella… What are you doing here?”
My voice was noticeably shaky and my words were horribly slurred, but I at least managed to plant my big Indian ass onto the step next to her without falling on my face. So points for that.
“Waiting for you.” She answered, a little breathless I might add and I couldn’t help but to feel smug knowing I caused the reaction. Guilt, however, took the front seat soon after when she glared. “What the hell happened in there?”
The way she was looking at me reminded me all to well of my crazy mother and of the ass-chewing I was bound to receive when Mrs. Fuller, A.K.A. Brady’s mother decided to out me at the next Bingo meet.
Because honesty is the best policy and well, I couldn’t fucking lie to my imprint if it meant my life, I gave her the only answer I could. “I honestly don’t know… he was touching you and…” Yes Sam, because that didn’t sound chauvinistic or pathetic at all.
Running my hand through the short hairs on my head, I groaned in frustration and went to try again.
Tink surprised the hell out of me when she stood up, grabbing at my hand with delicate fingers. “Come big guy,” she said with a smile and a slight tug. Poor girl couldn’t budge me if she tried. “Let’s go hash this shit out.”
I panicked for a second, thinking that maybe she was gonna mediate a session between Brady and I, and that would have been fine by me. If, and there’s a big fucking ‘If’ in there, we weren’t large drunken men, who had the tendency to turn all furry when pissed off.
By time the panicked settle into a violent churning of my gut, we were already standing at Tink’s door and she was fumbling blinding in the dark for her key. “No porch light?” I asked suddenly, making her jump and lose all purchase on her house-keys.
“No,” she replied huffily as she bent to retrieve the oddly disgusting ornament on her key-ring. The ugly little Dracula figurine with blinking eyes that hung from it was probably the only reason she found them to begin with. It made me want to throw up.
Fucking leeches.
Yeah, so I hate Bram Stoker, sue me. It was his demented Irish-ass that led the populace to believe in the beauty of their species. Even if he was responsible for making the vampire race marginally cooler. I guarantee the bastard would shit himself stupid if he ever really saw one.
Tink turned to me with a fully cocked brow, hand on her jutted hip. “Have a problem with Count Chocula, Sam?” She asked snidely, her eyes darting between me and the ugly little bloodsucker hanging from her doorknob.
Shit! I’m growling. Not good, Sammy-boy. Not good at all.
Not having the heart to tell her that a box of leech cereal would ever grace our table, I decided to play the drunk and stupid card. “I really hate that cereal.”
Well, it wasn’t a lie per-say. I didn’t like chocolate cereal of any kind, but she didn’t have to know that.
Fuck. I. Am. A. Moron.
Yes Sam, yes you are.
“Okay.” She said, not sounding the least bit convinced by my explanation but allowed me into her inner sanctum of bubble-wrap and cardboard.
See now, why I hate Bram Stoker. The bastard has cursed me to a lifetime of growling at little kids on Halloween and snapping at key-chains.
“So,” she said about ten minutes later, feet all propped up in my lap as she poured us both a glass of whiskey. “Spill it, Uley.”
It was hard to answer her properly. Not because I didn’t have answers, believe me I had plenty I wanted to divulge but the hard truth of the matter was that all my blood had traveled southward for the foreseeable future.
Why did she have to look so good? She wasn’t even trying, that much was clear by the cut off sweats she had turned into shorts and the paint covered sweat-shirt she was wearing. She wasn’t trying to be seductive or alluring, but all I saw was miles of creamy white legs and those goddamn wolf tracks.
“Sam!”
“Huh?” My whole body jumped, damn near tossing Tink straight off the couch, but damn me if I hadn’t been paying attention.
“Where the hell did you go?” She asked looking at me like I had just sprouted another head from my ear. “You went all quiet then started muttering about ‘smelling good’ and ‘wolf tracks’.”
Ah, fuck me.
“Um… sorry, I - just thinking.” Yeah, that wasn’t lame at all.
Fuck, I was going to end up with the first imprint in history that sent her mate off to the maximum security nut-house.
Tink just raised that defiant, perfectly manicured little brow which told me without a doubt that she didn’t for one second, buy the bullshit that just spewed from my mouth. I couldn’t blame her, it sounded just as terrible to me.
“Ugh… I just, he touched you!” I blurted, fighting hard against the growl that vibrated through my whole body. It was getting harder and harder to suppress the wolf gene around her and if I didn’t keep my wits I would end up on the ground, growling and licking her feet.
Feeling rather ashamed of myself made it hard to lift my eyes to hers. I expected her to be pissed. To rage and wail at me for claiming her like some fucking mountain man.
Just call me, Jeremiah Johnson.
But Tink wasn’t pissed, hurt or indignant. She looked totally fucking astonished, like she just couldn’t believe I had just said what I said. It left a cold feeling of dread pooling at the bottom of my spine. In that moment I would have rather had her hit me in the face with a crow bar. Anything was better than this awkward silence.
“You…” she tried and stuttered, still staring at me with those dark Bambi eyes that were wide with shock. “You hit Brady because you were jealous?” She asked incredulously.
“Yeah,” I sighed because really what more could I say at this point. I really didn’t feel that explaining the imprint while hopped up on Old Quil’s grain liquor was a good idea. More than likely I’d end up going all alpha male and I never see her again.
It was quite again for a minute. For a full fucking minute, you could hear a pin drop from across the rez, that was until it was interrupted by a sharp slap. It didn’t hurt, hell, I barely felt it but that stink was in the sound. That reverberating sound of flesh smacking against flesh nearly had my dick hard. Yes, I know I’m fucked up.
My imprint had just smacked the shit out of me and I was so hard I was sure it would break off. Fuck I could bend steel with that baby.
“You’re an idiot!” Tink wailed, throwing her hands up and stalking off to the kitchen.
Yep, goodbye imprint.
With my heart breaking in my chest, I stood and made for the door. I was man enough to admit that my tail was firmly between my legs. I knew I deserved the slap and I knew she would probably never speak to me again.
Would I still have hit Brady had I known her reaction? Yes.
It wouldn’t have done me any good to fight it. It was an instinct. Plain and simple. I really didn’t have the urge to hit him until he was right in front of me. My original plan was just to send him to bed. Let him sleep off the booze. I would never hit a pack mate like that maliciously but I still couldn’t deny that I hit him out of pure jealously.
It might have been her ass he grabbed, but half of that ass still belonged to me, if I had anything to say about it. Which, as her imprint, I did.
“Sit your ass down Uley.” Tink commanded to my back.
Without even a conscious thought, my feet moved. Gravitating.
She was my sun and I was the planet that revolved around her, seeking her warm rays to nurture my body.
God, what a fucking sap!
When I was finally seated on the couch, Tink shocked me again. She stood before, angry but not pissed. Using one, delectable little foot, she pinned my back against the warm leather of her couch and held me there.
Did she not know what would happen if she got that foot any closer to my mouth? For fucks sake the woman woke up, just this morning, with her toes hanging out of my mouth.
“Here’s the deal,” She said firmly, pushing with her foot hard to further her point. Or maybe it was to make sure I was paying attention? I didn’t really care. She was touching me, of her own will. I loved it and my wolf purred in contentment.
“You,” she spat, her finger just inches from my nose. “Are a complete and total moron. For someone as smart as you seemed to be, you sure act stupid.”
It was my turned to be confused. I don’t know if it was the fog of having her so close or possibly the hallucination inducing alcohol that I had been drinking since my little spat earlier, but I just couldn’t figure out what the fuck she was trying to point out.
She huffed, lowering her foot and, to my fucking elated surprise, straddled my lap. “I like you Sam. So don’t go beating up any other boys when all I want is a man.”
Fuck me.
Then she kissed me.
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