Chapter 7
Chapter 7
I reached under my pillow, pawing for a knife that I had never placed there, for the pepper spray that was who-knows-where, just searching for a weapon. None came to my fingers.
“You know my father is the police chief!” I screeched, unable to raise my voice above a whisper. The adrenaline was surging though, and soon-
He dashed towards me, moving too quickly to be human, and covered my mouth with an icy cold hand. It was like submerging my face in ice.
I still screamed.
“Quiet, Bella,” he murmured.
“Get off!” It only came out as a whimpering sound.
I despised him. I despised myself. Too weak to stand up for myself.
“I can explain.”
No, you can’t.
“There’s somebody...following you,” he said. “Somebody dangerous. He desires you...not in the way you think.” He let go of me, settling back in the armchair, his lips pinched.
“Oh, really? Really? I love the subtlety; you’re dangerous, and you’re obviously a rapist in training. That’s it. DAD-“
“Shut up!” he hissed.
“Why should I?”
“Because as much as you hate me, I wasn’t talking about myself. It’s someone else. And I can’t tell you much else. Otherwise a certain...family will come upon me and tear me to pieces,” he laughed as if he was telling some inside joke.
“I hate you,” I muttered, settling back on my bed. “So can you leave now?”
He stared at me with black eyes. “I’m protecting you, Bella.”
“That’s what every other abusive guy says. Now get out.”
His glare made me cower under my blankets, literally. When I peeked over my blankets again, he was gone. The window was shut and the moon shone on the open curtains, as if I had dreamed it all. I slid out of my bed, going to the window and pushing the window open. It should have creaked. It didn’t.
“You have a good time, all right?” Charlie said in concern, patting me on the shoulder as I shouldered on my jacket.
“You’re acting like I’ve never been out before,” I said.
“Not in Washington yet. Not without me.”
“You don’t want to be shopping for dresses.” Charlie snorted and ruffled my hair. “Dad,” I sighed.
“Never said I wanted to go,” he said. “You have the pepper spray?” I would have rolled my eyes, if I hadn’t had a particularly vivid nightmare last night of Edward Cullen sitting in my bedroom, in the same rocking chair that my mother had rocked me in.
Either that, or reality was far too vivid.
“Yeah,” I said, sounding entirely serious. He looked at me as if I was crazy. Seeing that before I had laughed at him when he told me to bring pepper spray, I couldn’t blame him.
“Well, have fun with your awful cooking!” I said cheerfully and before Charlie could do anything other than make a face, Jessica’s white old Mercury pulled up and I ran to the car, holding up my hands against the drizzle.
“What did your dad say?” Angela asked as I slammed the door shut.
“Nothing,” I said. I could feel my throat closing in excitement. I was leaving Forks. Well, I had left Forks before; La Push was outside of Forks. But this was a city. Port Angeles was a large city.
“I still can’t believe you’re not going,” Jessica said, driving with a casualness that I could never accomplish. “To the dance.”
“Maybe she didn’t see the point really,” Angela piped up, sounding as if she couldn’t see the point either.
“You’re going with Eric, right?” I asked. Angela nodded, opening her purse in a way that made me feel she just wanted something to do with her hands.
“I’m so happy,” Jessica gushed, glancing over her shoulder supposedly to check for cars coming our way. “The dinner with Mike yesterday, you know? It was amazing. I can’t wait for the dance. And I still can’t-“
“Believe you’re not going to the dance,” I said in a monotone voice. She laughed.
“I’m sorry. I just-“
“Yeah. I know.”
Jessica held up two dresses in front of the paneled mirrors, putting one in front of her and then putting the other, switching endlessly between the two. “Jessica, just make up your mind,” Angela said, her voice almost angry.
“Bella, what do you think?”
I looked up from the dress I had been idly touching. “Which one?” I asked.
Jessica glared at me, her curly hair looking more like a puffy frizz with stress. “This one,” she held up an electric blue dress, “or this?” she held up a black strapless dress, shaking it almost rather threateningly via the hanger.
“The blue,” I shrugged. It was just a little less clichéd. I looked around at the racks of clothing, all splashes of colors under bright red signs saying “Clearance!” Suddenly I was sick of all of it. The entire store smelled like an enormous new car.
“I like this one,” Angela’s soft voice announced. She came out of a changing room in a pink dress that fitted her well. She glanced down at herself.
“I think it’s great,” I said, trying to sound enthusiastic and failing.
“Yeah,” Jessica chimed in, looking down at herself with the black dress pressed against her body. “It looks nice.”
“Then,” Angela said, suddenly sounding business-like, “we’ll need to buy some bracelets, maybe necklaces, and shoes. I can finally wear high heels. It’s about time.”
The idea of standing around here among the dresses, shoes, purses, and other colorful, overpriced crap for another second was suffocating. Even if I was helping Angela and Jessica. They didn’t seem to need my help too much though. Even now, they were moving to the shoe section, bickering (Jessica loudly proclaiming her opinions and Angela shaking or nodding her head occasionally)
“You know, I’ll go to the bookstore,” I called.
“What?” Jessica sputtered, dropping the white high-heel she was holding. “But-“
“Look, we’ll meet at the Italian restaurant, all right?” I said, sidling past a pile of jeans. “I can figure out my way. I think you’ll like it better anyways.”
They looked uneasy. “Well, if that’s what you want,” Jessica said slowly.
I took that as confirmation and left the store, meandering around the town in a direction that I hoped was more towards downtown. The sidewalk’s concrete was starting to crack in some areas and I stared at my feet more than anything else.
There were a couple of stores, but no large bookstores to browse in. I walked into a street and looked up for the first time in a while. Warehouses lined both sides, most of them looking empty and neglected.
I blinked. The sound of laughter reached my ears and four men rounded a corner, stumbling. I stepped onto the road and walked faster to the end of the street, where I could turn a corner and hopefully find the Italian restaurant. If I could remember correctly (I glanced up at the street sign again to be sure) the Italian restaurant wasn’t far from here.
“Hey!” I looked up to see a black-haired man with a torn-up pair of jeans and white, dirty T-shirt smiling at me. It wasn’t the normal friendly smile I had come to expect from Washington. He stepped towards me and I walked faster.
“Wait up!” another one called, his words slurred, and all four of them laughed.
I rounded the corner, almost jogging, and felt my heart race with relief. I was supposed to turn left? Right? Left, I decided. I was farther than I thought from the Italian restaurant. At least it wasn’t too late in the evening. As if to inform me I was wrong, the sky darkened. I turned around instinctively.
Two men were walking behind me. They were from the same group that had called to me, but instead of a drunken swagger, their stride was purposeful and long. My hand went to my pocket. No pepper spray.
“All right, miss?” one of them called out mockingly. The two of them laughed, and I was suddenly aware that they were taller than me, far taller.
I walked faster, trying not to listen to their footsteps behind me. I thrust my hands into my jean pockets, my shoulders hunched.
“Where you going?” I looked up, almost tripping. A blond guy, a head taller than me, stared down at me. I bent my head and tried to walk around him, but he took one long step to the side and he was in front of me again.
“Get out of my way,” I said, my voice rasping. The blond laughed and his laugh was echoed by the two behind me, and suddenly, I realized there was another man laughing as well. It was like I was in the House of Mirrors, surrounded by apparitions. Four of them. There was no way, no way...
“What the hell do you want?” I tried to scream, but it was still a rasp.
“Don’t be that way, miss,” one of them drawled, stepping closer to me; I felt the hairs on the back of my neck rise.
Headlights rose and fell on the walls and I felt my heart gallop to an even higher pace. There were more of them coming in the car. I couldn’t handle four, not to mention more. Oh God--
One of the men cursed and dove out of the way, as the car sped towards us. The four of them were still moving towards me when a silver car, a pale yellow in the glare of its headlights, swerved alongside me. One of the windows rolled down.
“Get in.”
The voice was unmistakable.
“Oh hell no,” I said, the words coming out of me before I could even think, “what are you-“
“Get. In.”
I glanced at the other four, who seemed to have gotten out of their frozen state. One of them was moving towards the car.
Four of them vs. a strange, way-too-strong adolescent. It took a split second for me to decide that the adolescent would be a better choice. I practically ripped the car door open and slid in.
Slamming the car door shut, I glanced at the Cullen. His face was rigid. The brakes screeched as the car spun around in a U-turn and sped away. Nausea flooded over me and I bent over, breathing quickly.
“Are you all right?” he said through gritted teeth.
“Can you drive slower?” I moaned, hand on the dashboard as he spun the wheel around in what I supposed might have been a left turn. He apparently had selective hearing; he didn’t slow.
“You were supposed to meet Jessica and Angela at La Bella Italia, right?” he said, his hands gripped so hard around the steering wheel that his knuckles were paper-white.
“How do you know?”
He was silent; the speedometer inched up to sixty miles per hour. The nausea rose and fell over me again. I made a small, retching sound. My head almost hit the dashboard as Cullen hit the brakes.
“Bella! Are you sure-“
“Drive more slowly and I’ll be fine,” I snarled. The car went forward again, at a sane pace. At least suitable for an urban area.
I was quiet for a couple seconds, just breathing in and out. When the nausea faded, I looked up. It was six forty-seven. “I was supposed to meet Jessica and Angela at six thirty,” I muttered.
“I’ll do the explaining.”
“Like I can trust you.”
He glanced at me, a small smile on his lips. It reminded me of the way my uncles would smile at me when I was three. They would pat my head and tell Renee, “She’s still such a small little girl.” What a miserable loser.
“Well, then, if you want to explain,” he waved a hand, not slowing at all, “they’re out there.” He rolled down the tinted window and I could see Jessica and Angela standing in front of La Bella Italia, their faces ghastly white in the streetlights.
“Bella!” Jessica said loudly, staring at the Porsche. “Where-“
“Got lost,” I said sheepishly, stepping out and edging away from the stupid car that I had made fun of on the first day of school. “Edward saw me wandering around and offered me a ride here. So!” I said, shouldering my purse, “what’s for dinner?”
Angela and Jessica looked at each other and then back at me. “We’ve...already eaten,” Angela said. “We weren’t sure when you were coming back, so we figured we would eat something at La Bella Italia, and if you didn’t show up late, we’d drive around and look for you. We were-“
“It’s fine,” Edward said, stepping out of the car and walking over. Jessica, at least, gasped. I rolled my eyes and groaned. “I’ll give Bella a ride home after she eats. So you won’t have to wait around.”
“Really, I’ll just-“
“I insist,” Edward said softly.
“We’ll go, we’ll go,” Angela said hastily, pulling Jessica, who was making small noises of protest, to Jessica’s car. “See you tomorrow, Bella, Edward.”
I wanted to run after them and cling onto Jessica’s hand, maybe even scream “Please don’t leave me with this creep; he was in my bedroom!”
But something in Jessica’s glare, that said “You’re so damn lucky”, made me think that perhaps they wouldn’t give me a ride.
I laughed weakly, a small “Ha. Ha,” as they left. Edward was already walking to the entrance of La Bella Italia. “Come on, Bella,” he called, opening the door. He held it open as I stumbled my way in, the perfect, gentlemanly stalker.
It was a warm-looking place, almost homely with a dash of sophistication. In other word, a step above a national chain Italian restaurant. The waitress looked up when we walked up, and her eyes slid over me straight to Edward. Her mouth opened in a small O.
“Would-would it be a table for two?” she stuttered, stepping out from behind the podium.
“Yes,” Edward said, tilting his head to the side. The waitress flushed and twirled a strand of unnatural blonde hair.
“Then follow me then,” she looked as though she was about to stumble, the poor girl, as she wound her way around the tables. The booths were all empty and my poor heart tried to beat its way out of my chest as the waitress set the menus on the table. He couldn’t do anything when there were twenty people in the same restaurant, right?
I sat down quickly, glancing around. Good. At least two people could see me without too much effort. They could alert everyone else.
But he couldn’t do anything, could he? I giggled.
“Your server will be here soon,” the waitress said and she sped off. Edward stared at his hands and then looked up at me.
“You all right?” he said.
“Why do you keep asking?” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. He shrugged, twirling a packet of sugar between his fingers.
“Well. You should be in shock,” he said. “I know...well, I know someone who was in your situation. Worse in fact. I’m just glad it didn’t get anywhere.”
I blinked. “I...”
There’s really not much you can say to a statement like that.
“Hello!” a chipper waitress with short black hair came up to us. She flipped her hair back and said, with disconcerting warmth, “My name’s Amber, and I’ll be serving you tonight. What would you like to drink?”
“Um...” she was looking straight at me, “a Coke?” I said.
“A Coke for me as well,” Edward said quickly. Amber glanced at him.
“All right then!” she said and she left.
Hmm, perhaps I should have asked for water. Then Amber would have had to check on us frequently and Edward-
No, he wouldn’t dare.
“You’re handling it well,” Edward said, his fingers tapping the table. “I was expecting hyperventilation. Or crying,” he grinned and my heart went from the pace of a rabbit to practically zero. Why was I so weak?
“Apparently you think little of me.”
“No,” he said slowly. “Not at all. I’m just expecting you to be normal.”
“The shock hasn’t set in, I guess. I’m a bit on the slow side.”
He laughed, causing stares from the other side of the restaurant. It was almost obnoxiously loud.
Amber came back, bearing the two Cokes and a basket of breadsticks. “Anything to order?”
“Just...just the mushroom ravioli,” I said. She turned to Edward.
“Nothing for me,” he said. She nodded.
“Well then, enjoy!” she said, smiling at us both. The kindness of these people...still drove me insane. I picked up a breadstick and tore it in half.
“Want some?” I asked, pointing to the basket. He shook his head. I shrugged. “Suit yourself. You don’t look hungry anyways.”
“Really?” his voice was challenging.
“You’re always in a better mood when your eyes are lighter. Never seen that in anyone before, but hey, guys are like that,” I said, biting into the breadstick. It was good, and I suddenly realized I was ravenous. “Always crabby when hungry. My dad’s like that too. You just have strange eyes.”
He frowned. “It’s OK,” I said. “Guys are-“
“Yeah, I know,” he muttered. “Any theories?”
I snorted. “As to why you’re hungry?”
“No. As to why my eyes change color.” That little condescending smile was back on his face.
“I don’t know. I’m not a doctor,” I said. “Maybe that’s what comes out of being bipolar.”
He was puzzled; he raised an eyebrow. “Bipolar,” he repeated, as if he had never heard the term before. “Even if I was bipolar, my eyes wouldn’t change color from that.”
Amber came back with the mushroom ravioli. “Anything else I can get you?” she asked.
“No thanks,” I said and she left, casting a glance over her shoulder at Edward. Apparently he didn’t radiate ‘stalker’ to everyone. As I turned back, I saw La Bella Italia engraved over the door to the kitchen.
How did he know we were supposed to come here? “So,” I said, stabbing a mushroom, “I was just wondering why you came to Port Angeles.”
“Trying to make sure you weren’t killed again,” Edward said casually. “It’s a surprisingly hard task. Finding you and following you is more difficult than I expected. I’ve never had such trouble.”
I chewed on my food, staring at him all the while. His eyes were the lightest color I had ever seen them, a light golden color that made him look like a feral animal. Impertinent questions wouldn’t set him off today.
“You read minds,” I said flatly.
There was no other explanation: he could pinpoint my location in the city of Port Angeles, and he knew which restaurant we were supposed to meet up. Those two only could have been excused as coincidences, except for the entire year, there was that annoying smirk on his face whenever he came near me, as if he had heard something embarrassing. The smirk was even worse when I had fallen or I had said something that I came to regret.
Instinct told me what my brain could not.
He stared into my eyes and I looked away automatically. “Well. Perhaps,” he said, teasingly, as if I were delusional.
“We’re friends, right?”
He blinked and then smoothly recovered. “I think you’re having trouble with that concept more than I do.”
He had a point there. “But friends trust each other,” I said, leaning over the ravioli and being careful to keep my blue blouse out of the white mess sitting on a plate before me. I could see his hand trembling; what was wrong with him?
His hand steadied and the slight condescending smirk was back on his face. “Well, I’ll tell you. You might as well know some of the danger around you.”
“You?”
“Me and more.”
“No one else is creeping into my bedroom,” I muttered, sitting back again.
“Touché.” He sighed and tapped his fingers on the table briefly, mouthing some words. Then he looked up. “I haven’t had to track anyone in a while. Nobody else has so much accidents though, and I knew when I...woke up,” he laughed at some joke that only he understood, “that I had to follow you. Jessica’s mind was the easiest to find. I’ve heard her voice so many times this year, so I kept a casual watch on her. And then I checked in with her and she and Angela were wondering what to do now that you were in the bookstore.”
He pointed at the ravioli. “It’s best hot.”
I nodded and ate some, still listening. “I started to go in circles, driving around anywhere that you could have walked to, listening for you. Or no. Not you. I needed to hear your name, or see your face. For some reason, you’re a mute to me.”
“A mute,” I repeated, twirling my fork. He nodded.
“So I couldn’t depend on your mind. And I was getting anxious, as the sun set, and I saw your face. In that man’s mind.” A fork was in his hands and I glanced at it; Edward was pressing a finger on the tongs. The knife bent right over.
“You have no idea how mad it made me,” he said in a low voice. “I could see what he wanted to do. And then I could see what all four of them wanted, and they were sickeningly alike. All feral animals.”
I had to shove ravioli into my mouth to remind myself not to tell him that I thought he was similar enough to a feral animal with his yellow eyes.
“I wanted to...not kill them. Something worse,” he said, forcing every word out as if each one pained him. “But...I thought it’d be better not to. It took some self-control.”
I downed half of the Coke and speared one more mushroom. He looked at my plate. “Done?”
“Yeah.”
“Miss?” Edward said loudly, not looking away from me.
Amber appeared almost instantly by our side. “Yes?”
“I’ll like the check,” she produced the leather folder and Edward slipped a bill inside. “No change, please,” he said, giving her a dazzling smile. Her face flushed as she took the folder back. “Thank you very much.”
She left, walking perhaps a little more tipsily than before. Edward stood up. “Well, then, let’s go home then,” he said lightly.
AN: Wow, long chapter. Tried to cut out the unneccessary banter between the two, and create a little more suspicion from Bella. Not a strong chapter, but it's the chapter that is rather pivotal in this plotless book.
Chapter 8