"You're standing in the face of danger."—Lana
It was raining. Again. The weather was always like this in Forks, a small town which I wasn't even sure existed in maps. Cloudy, sunless, or raining. It was either those three. Though nowadays it had been raining, raining and raining. Sometimes it was calming rain, sometimes it was storm. I really hated it. Being here. But now it was all we got. A house in the middle of nowhere and shattered hearts. It had been ten years and my mom was still struggling. She smiled but her eyes were so broken I had to look away. My feeling, on the other hand, was all over the place. Most of these days, it was numb.
I was watching the rain by the window in the sitting room again. This was my everyday routine. Mom was probably drinking to oblivion in her room upstairs. Her silent cries against the heavy rain. I sometimes wondered if she could hear mine too.
The blade on my hand. The vengeance on my mind. The harder I was thinking about it, the tighter I gripped it. I dreamed to kill with it. The side gift my dad gave on my sixteenth birthday behind Mom's back. She would be furious if she knew. Mom wanted her daughter to stay naïve and oblivious for the rest of her life. About our family's illegal activities. About our power in crime world. But Dad was doing the opposite. He told me everything little by little as I aged. It was our little secret. In front of Mom, I pretended I didn't know. Behind her, I learned to use a freaking gun.
I looked down to my hand. To our family crest curved proudly around the handle of my knife. It was gone now. The existence of our family, buried six feet under along with my dad's body. A day after my sixteenth birthday. Killed and betrayed by his closest friends. We never saw it coming. Hell, it was probably the farthest thing on our mind. Because our families had history. And for decades, we were allies. So, imagine our surprise. My dad died like his life meant nothing. Mom and I were forced to leave home. Moving city to city, changing our identity. We lived from hundred to zero because they didn't do half. They took everything.
I slid the knife back in the pocket of my jeans as I heard her walk down the stairs. The rain had stopped and I wondered how long I lost the track of time. Mom stopped at the bottom of stairs. I turned around to her, pretending I didn't notice her swollen eyes or the dry trace of tears on her cheeks. It was our game every year and today was just any other day. Sometimes we would act like we were fine. Sometimes we were just too tired to even try.
Seth was my only friend in Forks. He was seventeen. School drop-out and a hacking genius. He stole for living. Mostly to pay his father's hospital bills. Because Harry was all he got. His mother died when he was young and his sister, Leah, ran away with her boyfriend and move out to bigger city.
I wondered if life had always been this dramatic.
His house was only two blocks away from mine. It took five minutes walking. Seth was in the garage when I arrived, checking the old rusty truck that he knew I would borrow for a day. Something that I liked about him was he didn't question. Even if he was curious, he didn't ask. One time he slipped and told me that he didn't believe my last name was Swan. But that was all.
"Bella." He nodded as if he had expected me. "She's good to go."
I grinned at his straightforwardness.
"Thanks."
He nodded again and didn't say anything else.
I climbed into the truck, preparing myself for that once-in-three-months trip. The five hours drive to Monroe. I waved him goodbye. He knew I wouldn't be back until tomorrow. And even though I knew it was on the tip of his tongue, he didn't say anything.
Maybe I would tell him someday. Maybe I wouldn't.
Jasper was unpleased when he saw me. He nervously looked around as if someone might be watching us right now. After everything that had happened, I got why he was becoming this wary. He sat on the wooden chair across from me. His hand ran over the dirty blond hair that now almost reached his shoulder. I always wondered how he could get away with it. Because we knew everyone here was getting their head shaved.
"I told you not to come often." He said in hushed voice as soon as he held the phone to his ear.
"It's been three months."
"And I have been in prison for ten years." He replied sarcastically. I diverted my eyes from the bright orange jumpsuit he was wearing. A clear reminder how he could end up here at the first place. God, as if our life wasn't miserable enough.
"Jasper…"
He exhaled deeply, trying to gain his composure. "It's for your safety. If they find you—"
My anger boiled at the mention of them. "I'm not afraid."
"What about Renee?" it shut me up immediately. His face softened a little. Even though we came from different mother, I knew well that he cared for her deeply. "We have lost so much, Bells. We can't let them take what's left."
He was right. He always was and I hated him for it. When I would probably just do what was in my head recklessly, he would definitely think it through. Maybe the fact that he was seven years older was playing the part.
"Fine. I'll be more careful."
"Good."
"How are you, by the way?" I questioned. Time had passed by in a blur for us. I didn't know about him, but all these ten years, I felt like I was barely living. I was growing up with hatred and a thought of revenge because his death somehow was still fresh in my memory.
"Don't worry about me." It was always his answer. I really hated it. Every fucking word he said. Our situation. Our fate.
"I can't live like this anymore, J. I'm going insane." I told him.
He tried to reach out, placing his hand against the glass that was separating us. "Be patient. We'll sort this out when I'm released." Next year. He would finally be released next year. It was three months away. "Do you hear me, Bells?" he repeated when I didn't answer. "Tell me you won't do anything stupid."
"Okay."
"Promise me."
A pause before I said. "I promise."
The way home was different. Unusual. I could feel it in the pit of my stomach. The bad feeling. That feeling that suddenly made my heartbeats quicken and my palms sweaty. The rush of adrenaline.
Something wasn't right.
My anxiety built up and I knew damn well it was for a reason. The hold on the steering wheel tightened as I glanced at the rearview mirror. A black SUV was right behind me.
That kind of SUV.
My hands trembled. Fuck, since when I was being followed? Was it possible that it was only my instinct playing trick on me?
I tried to switch lane and just like that, they followed right after. It kept tailing me until we exited the highway.
This was nightmare. Now I regretted I always took Jasper's words lightly.
Before I could think of anything else, the black SUV drove past me, purposely blocking my car and trying to slow me down. I switched lane right away and sped up. Like death was chasing. But this truck was old and slow compared to the Rover. I panicked as I checked the rearview. Their window was rolled down and a gun popped out. My truck spinning around as bullets after bullets shot the tires. I lost the control of wheel. I hit the brakes as hard as I could because I couldn't think of anything else. It finally stopped after a while, landing awkwardly around the bushes and trees. My head was dizzy. But I didn't have time. I quickly yanked the door open before they got me. My blade was my only weapon.
They were spreading out. Guns ready. Luck wasn't on my side because no cars passed this street. I ducked and hid behind tree.
They were near and I was out of number.
But fuck, I couldn't just give up.
One man walked on my peripheral and I moved fast and stabbed him on the neck. He yelled profanities in Italian, his face twisted in pain. I drew out my knife covered with fresh blood. He was on the ground now and his friend rushed to us. I grabbed his gun and shot. They quickly ducked to the closest trees.
I ran. I ran and ran and prayed.
I looked back and felt insecure. They would get me in no time.
They shot. I crouched and shot back. Two, five times. My legs were jelly. I had been running and running, deeper into the woods.
I was out of bullets.
When one of them reached me, I fought him bare hands. I kicked and ducked, hit until my knuckles bruised. Until it became overbearing.
Damn it. I couldn't die here.
"Don't move." I was cornered. Guns everywhere. His face was familiar, but I couldn't put a name on it.
"What do you want?" I asked as calmly as I could while my heart was actually beating so fast inside my chest.
"Come with us." It was an order. No space for argue.
I held my chin high. As if I had another choice.
"And then what?"
"You'll know."
Who were they working for?
The blood drained from my face as I realized the situation. The man in front of me was smiling as if he was winning.
It couldn't be.
If it was what I really thought it was, I was really, thoroughly fucked.
The car stopped about fifteen minutes later. I was told to wipe the blood clean from my face and skin. I was spotless, even though my jacket was stained darker. I was restless on my seat. I was never ready for this day. Damn it, what was the point of being on the run for ten years?
The passenger door opened. I almost saw the gate of hell ahead of me.
"Nervous?" that same guy spoke. I really wanted to punch him for whatever reason.
"Shut up."
"You better not test his patience." He said from the side of the car, reaching out to grab my arm. I slapped it away.
"Don't touch me." I hissed. He held up his hands as I made the way out.
We entered a fancy Italian restaurant which was surprisingly filled with people. I frowned in confusion because there was no way he was doing this in public.
Everyone was staring blatantly as soon as I was inside. And when I thought I wasn't that screwed—so fucking naïve, I know—they all stood up almost in the same beat, left their table then exited the restaurant. Each of them. Almost in robotic move. Except they were real human beings.
This place was empty in ten seconds.
Fuck, right?
They led me to the table in the back. A mop of that messy bronze hair was hard to miss even from across the room. Edward Masen was sitting alone, waiting. I took him in. The changes in ten years. The leather jacket that was a signature of him was replaced by some Gucci suit shit. He's matured. Thirty-three really did him well.
His eyes found me. Those impatient greens. There was cockiness in there, satisfaction, told me quietly that running from him was a waste of time. But also, there were pain and sorrow and surprisingly, longing. It lasted for two seconds before he blinked it away, covering it with a sly smirk.
His man nudged me to walk forward. I did. My steps didn't falter. Edward was watching me the whole time. I gave him nothing but a hard glare. I was raging inside. It was almost overbearing. But he looked at me as if he found something amusing.
Fucker.
I wanted to kill him.
My move was calculated, planned. The thought was only running through my mind five minutes ago, but it was on. Consequences be damned. As soon as I reached him, I snatched his man's Glock at the same time. I cocked it, raised it to his head. I could imagine Jasper glaring at me right now because I really did break my promise.
Edward grinned wider. No worries in his eyes. "Still same stupid lil' girl." He mused, calm as ocean.
I gritted my teeth because on my peripheral I could see his men pointing their guns at me. Eight, no, maybe ten of them.
"How is Renee? Ah, I should visit her first in Forks." His words sent chill up my spine.
I froze immediately. He knew. He knew where she was. Those emeralds were gleaming with mischief and bad intentions as I registered those words. He didn't care. And I was not willing to risk it. Not Renee. Not Jasper. They were the only remaining family I had.
My hold wavered. He used the opportunity to yank my wrist. The gun out of my hand, falling onto the floor. One of his man picked it up quickly and stepped away. Edward was pulling me closer. One hand on my wrist and the other sneaking around my waist. His longing gaze slipped out. The feeling resurfaced. The touch was fire. His close proximity. All of a sudden, we were young all over again. I was all innocent, caught up in my fantasy. Madly in love with him. Clingy, careless, persistent and definitely stupid.
He was, too, already down to the memory lane because then, he looked deep into my eyes and said. "Beautiful."
I was silent. I didn't have a reply for that. For this situation. I lost. We lost. I was stuck.
"Leave Renee out of this." Was the only thing I could think of. White flag and I gave in. I couldn't. Not if it involved Renee. She had been hurt enough.
He smiled. Dark and dangerous. He was winning. "So, are you ready to go home?"