Pick a Pic Challenge
Title: Ensnare
Banner #: 176
Pairing: Edward/Bella
Genre: Romance
Rating/Disclaimer: M, this fic contains violence/abuse/human trafficking/kidnapping.
Reading is at own risk. Stephenie Meyer owns the characters used in this fic.
Summary: Hurt, broken, lost, and finally taken away, she found home. But life wasn't as gracious. Sooner or later she was taken, but this time she'd fight hard to get what she wanted.
To see all entries for this contest, please visit (pickapic).(twificpics).com
"Is this all?" A hulky man spat on the ground that had been just cleaned and proceeded to trek his muddy shoes across the floor. The girl bowed her head in submission, continuing to clean the new marks. Instead of moving away, he laughed and grabbed her dark hair tightly by the roots, she gave a whisper of a scream and tried to control her flailing body under his grip.
"Aww, Isabella's hurting. Poor Isabelllaa," he mocked, a grin lighting his face. "Your mother looked just like this before I fucked her and then chopped her up." She gasped at the last part, a frozen 'no' stuck in her throat.
He laughed and picked her up, and then threw her on the ground.
"Tidy yourself up, you slut. We have company."
She watched his form retreat from the kitchen, her body shaking with sobs: her beautiful mother... killed. Isabella hadn't talked to her in three days since her mother had been forced to warm her master's bed.
"ISABELLA!" came a roar from the basement. She scampered off towards the noise.
She hadn't even had time to change; he was going to skin her.
Isabella walked in hesitantly, her head down keeping her eyes on the marble ground. Her master's rough hand grabbed her and pulled her towards him.
"This is the young one," he muttered towards someone. Isabella felt a shiver run down her spine. Her master was never quiet like that. This person must have more power.
The said someone took her in his arms with gentleness, yet a strong enough grip she couldn't fight it. She could feel his rough fingers run over skin smoothly, sending more shivers down her spine.
"I thought you said she was clean. I didn't pay for these scars or these bruises."
"Yes, well, you can take $10k off. I'll have the rest."
"I said, I thought you said she was clean," this time the voice growled... a deadly one.
"Well, she was being a whore. I had to do—"
A gunshot rang, and Isabella watched the bullet enter her master's heart and his body spasm to the ground. She felt a jolt of pleasure run through her body.
Why? She did not know.
"Take her away," said the man, and she was escorted by a bunch of suits outside. The daylight hit her eyes, making her blink under the glare of the sun.
She shielded her eyes away from the sudden light until she was told to sit in a fancy limo. As she squeezed herself in the corner she realised that she was in the middle with two large cars surrounding hers.
She had been sitting there for a while studying the outside, something she hadn't seen in years, when the door opened and another suit stepped inside.
Her eyes drifted to him and she realised he was a lanky build. His frame didn't show much underneath the suit, but the way he held his arms and posture showed his possible muscles underneath. His eyes were a shocking colour almost too bright, too pure, and his face was one of angelic beauty, yet he had what seemed a scowl fixated on his face.
She watched him from the corner of her eye as he sat down across from her and started fiddling with his phone. Only when he started talking on his phone did she realised this was the man that had bought her, her new owner and she had looked at him. This was not good. She was frightened by the idea of what he might to do to her if he found out. Her old master would whip her forty times and her muscles would ache for a good week. Somehow she knew this man would give her a worse punishment and she couldn't risk it.
She gazed at her lap and the plush leather she was sitting on for the rest of the journey, her eyes dripping with tears as she thought of her mother. She must have fallen asleep during the journey, as she was jolted awake when the car stopped. She heard the door open and an arm wrapped around her waist, dragging her outside. She was tucked firmly next to the person as he walked her into a house surrounded by what seemed a large forest. The sky was an oddly dark blue colour and that's when she realised they had been driving all day. Only this time, there were no other cars surrounding them.
His arm tightened around her as he pushed the door of the house and strode inside, pulling her in. She gasped at the sight. It was like a fairytale house, all large and fancy and, oh, so shiny. He even had the the grand staircase.
She took it in before a feeling of dread set in; she would have to clean all this to absolute perfect standard.
He'd kill her before a day had set. She'd never manage all this.
The arm fell from her waist and she felt his body slump next to her.
"I'm so exhausted," he murmured.
She dropped to her knees; this was routine if master was tired. Master had to relax.
She reached for his zipper on his black trousers, but before she could pull it down his hand stopped her.
"What are you doing?" There was a distinct force in his voice.
Oh no! She had messed up already.
"I-I was helping you relax, sir," she whispered hoarsely. Speaking stung her throat; she hadn't had a drink in over twenty-four hours.
He laughed before pulling her up.
"Oh, that won't be happening any time soon. Now follow me."
He strode up the grand staircase. She followed, her legs faltering slightly, almost buckling, but she managed to reach the landing.
He escorted her into what seemed the largest room on that floor; it was completely lavish like the rest of the house, and right in the middle stood a four poster bed that looked so comfortable. Isabella had been used to the hard marble floor and the small cloth for a blanket.
"This is our room."
Our room?
"Surprised, darling? Didn't Phil tell you? You are mine."
His coarse hands cupped her cheek, and she met his vivid green eyes. Slowly, his finger stroked her cheek.
"You look tired, sweetheart. Would you like to sleep or have a shower?"
Isabella contemplated it for a second before realising she could feel her eyelids drooping and decided she need rest more than clean water.
"Sleep," she squeaked. Not that she wanted to admit it at this point, but she rather enjoyed his hands on her face. It felt warm and almost safe.
He smiled and moved himself towards a set of drawers. Opening one of them, he pulled out a t-shirt and some soft shorts. He handed them to her and motioned her to change into them.
"Here?" she asked unsure.
"Sure. I won't look, I promise."
He kept true to his promise as he turned away and started to pull out more clothes for himself.
She hesitated for a second before she pulled her rags off, leaving her in only a set of bra and panties. Quickly, she put the given clothes on. They were so comfortable and smelled so nice, until she noticed the bruises were visible in these clothes. Isabella tried to cover herself up as she turned around only to be met by her owner's bare back as he pulled his shirt off. She was right; he did have strong muscles. His biceps, covered in ink, were almost straining.
A blush covered her cheeks and she turned to face the floor, not wanting to be caught staring.
"All done."
Isabella looked up to see, what seemed to be, a friendly smile on face. He moved to the bed and pulled back the covers and patted the space next to him. She moved her aching legs slowly towards the bed, having to hold on to the bed post as she almost stumbled in.
The mattress was heavenly on her back, and when he pulled the duvet over her, she couldn't explain the feeling of comfort. It was unbelievable.
"I know we haven't had much of an introduction, but my name is Edward," his voice was muffled with sleep as he looked towards her. "Now, go to sleep."
With that he brought her to his chest and fell asleep, his snores filling the room. It didn't take her long to fall asleep, either.
The room was dark, dark like her old master's house. She couldn't escape from her place in the corner. She tried pulling herself up but no avail; she was stuck.
A high pitched scream from outside and the rancid smell of vomit hit her throat.
No, no, no, she couldn't be back here...
"Did you think you could escape so easily?" It was his voice.
She stiffened. This wasn't good; no, not good.
"Look what I found," he continued, showing her a sledge hammer. "I used this for mommy dearest. Now it's your turn."
"No, please!" she screamed.
"Isabella, wake up. Wake up." She jolted awake, her eyes peering in the darkness. It must have been early. Then she looked over at Edward's worried face.
He reached over and wiped her tears off, and she sniffed feeling more pouring in.
"You okay?" His voice was genuinely concerned.
She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out her throat was too dry, it ached along with the rest of the body.
Sensing she needed water, Edward reached over into one of the drawers and pulled out a new bottled water. He handed it to her and watched her frown for a second before she took it and took a big drink. Before she knew it, it was done.
He smiled at the sight. She was such small thing. God knew how thirsty or hungry she was.
Edward almost face-palmed, he forgot to get her food.
"I'm sorry, I drunk—"
He shook his head, took the bottle, and threw it in the bin, and then brought her closer.
"Are you thirsty, hungry? Would you like something?"
"No, I'm fine, sir."
He frowned. He'd have to break the habit.
"Would you like to talk about the dream…?"
She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. She couldn't. It was too… real. If she talked about it, it may come true. It was a stupid theory, she knew, but something just might set it off.
"Come here."
He pulled her close into a hug and she fisted his shirt, almost crying. He made small strokes down her back to comfort her.
"Let's go to sleep, huh?"
"I'm sorry for waking you, sir."
"Not a problem, and we'll talk tomorrow."
She nodded and this time fell into dreamless sleep.
When she awoke for the next time she was cuddling Edward, her legs entangled with his and her head buried in his shoulder, his in her hair. Titling her head up she peered at his face; he had slight stubble, giving a five o' clock shadow. His hair was a rowdy coppery mess and his nose was slightly crooked. She had seen him somewhere and she couldn't put her finger on it.
"Having fun looking at me, pretty girl?" he mumbled in to her hair with a teasing side to his voice.
Isabella scrambled backwards and almost off the bed. He laughed at her reaction and pulled her back on before she could fully fall off.
"Calm down. I won't hurt you."
Isabella believed him for some reason. Maybe it was because he hadn't treated her any less than a human being since she got here or maybe just because she rarely had a care for her life any more.
At this point her stomach decided to make it's presence known and gave a loud rumble.
Edward smirked and climbed out of bed.
"Let's go downstairs and get you breakfast."
He strode towards the door and she followed him hesitantly. As she walked through the house, she realised how many people were working.
The clothes they wore were designer compared to the rags she was forced to endure. The only good pair of clothes she had were the ones used for school and even then she got teased relentlessly for reusing them. Even so, going to school was a great distraction for what had happened at home. If Phil wasn't forced to send her to school she might have been in worse shape than now.
He led her through a couples of rooms until she realised the kitchen was at the back, showing the beautiful green forest from before. There were birds and a start of stream at one side; it was glorious and especially as it shone in the sunlight.
"Sit," he commanded in a gentle tone and pointed towards the shiny kitchen island where stood a couple of stools. She took a seat and she watched Edward rummage through a couple of cupboards and bring out a saucepans.
"How do you like your eggs?"
"Uh, sir, you don't have to. I assure you I can do the work."
He smiled softly at her before speaking. "Have I asked you to work?"
"No, sir."
"Exactly. Now no more "sir," okay? And how do you like your eggs?"
"I-I haven't had eggs before," she whispered, her head falling in shame.
"Well, then, I'll have to make you my specialty."
She watched him carefully as he started whipping up some ingredients. He was like a master chef in the kitchen and that made her blush for reasons unknown to her.
"Here you go."
He placed a plate in front of her with some utensils. The smell that came from it made her stomach growl ferociously.
She took her first bite uncertainly and it was delicious inside her mouth and almost helped her aching stomach.
After that bite, she ate more confidently, savouring the flavours, and by the end of the meal she was full—something she hadn't experienced as far she could remember—and drank the orange juice that was next to her.
Her body felt better and her brain wasn't pounding and the aches in her body settled a little until they became a dull pain.
"Feeling better?"
"M-hmm," she mumbled.
"Would you like more?" he asked, a gentle tone to his voice, almost as if he was speaking to a child.
"No, I'm fine. Thank you, s— uh..." Her voice trailed off, unsure what to call him. "Mister Cullen."
"No "sir," no "mister," no formalities. You are not an employee here, okay? Just call me Edward."
"Uh, okay, Edward."
"Good." He gave her a soft smile and leaned on the counter top before speaking again.
"Now we have to discuss some information about your stay here."
She nodded; a sudden clamp had formed in her throat.
"Right. My name is Edward Cullen. You may call Edward, but not sir or master, as I am not of yours as such. I have brought you here because I want you to be my wife. I'll not disrespect you in anyway and I expect the same treatment back. Understand?"
She nodded once more. It was a step up from being a servant.
So that's what he meant by 'mine'.
"Good. I assure you, Isabella, you'll grow to love it here." He smiled once more before he walked up to the window and opened it slightly, letting a cold breeze waft into the kitchen, removing the smoke from the cooking.
"I hope so," she mumbled unintentionally.
Edward glanced at her, surprised. She had responded, so maybe she was opening up. He couldn't wait till she finally opened up fully.
"Let's take a quick tour of the house, and then I'll leave you to yourself."
He walked out of the kitchen pointing and naming various objects as he did. She listened carefully and followed his gaze, but her eyes drifted more towards the interior instead of the the various ways to use the object he had shown her. That was until they reached the library and it reminded her something out of a movie. It was so large, the walls were literally book cases, except a small intersection in the right wall for a fireplace.
In the middle there were a couple of small beanbags and a cosy couch with plump pillows.
"I thought you'd like it here," Edward spoke, breaking her out of the trance she was in.
She glanced at him and saw a cocky smirk appear. She blushed softly. He had made her blush more than she had ever done and she did not know why.
He stroked her cheek softly before whispering, "I love that colour on you."
Her blush got deeper and warm shivers ran down her spine.
A comfortable silence settled between them.
"Would you like to get cleaned up now?" Edward asked after a while.
She nodded, her hair was ratty and there was dirt still on her skin and she probably smelled horrible. She hadn't had any clean water on her for months.
"Come on."
This time, they returned to the bedroom. He opened the closet for her and showed the female clothes stored there.
"I got these bought for you. I would have given you these last night, but they only arrived today. Take a pick and the bathroom is there." He pointed towards a shiny white door. "If you wish, you can use the bathroom on this floor out in the landing."
"I'll be fine here, thanks," she said softly, as she drifted her hands through the fabrics of the clothes.
She picked out a white dress that looked elegant enough and a bra and panties that matched.
She picked up one of the hanging towels and made her way to the bathroom. It shouldn't have surprised how big it was, but it did. She removed her borrowed clothes and stepped in.
The bath/shower looked confusing with all the knobs and buttons, but she managed to find the hot and cold taps.
The warm water on her skin was another sensation she had yet to experience, and it was divine. She scrubbed every part of her body and hair until she was pink and her hair had returned into the natural mahogany colour.
She dried off her body and enjoyed the soft feeling of the towel and finally wrapped it round her hair.
Isabella felt her body crack as she bent to pick up her clothes. She gasped as the breath swooshed out of her and held on the shiny wall for support.
Squeezing her eyes shut she took deep breaths trying to calm her distress; a few deep breaths later it went away.
Her legs almost buckled under the pain. Sighing, she started putting on her underwear, only that wasn't the end; the food she had started coming back up and she stumbled to the shiny toilet, holding on the edges as she dry heaved until she felt herself puke. The sounds coming from her were so absolutely wretched that she shivered and felt queasy just at the sound of them.
What she didn't expect was Edward to burst through the door to check if she was okay. As she bent over the toilet, his hands moved gently up her back. He could feel the bones in her spine and felt sick of how starved she was left.
When she was done, she went to the wash basin to gargle out the horrible stench in her mouth; all the while, Edward's hands never stopped their comfortable stroking.
"I'm so sorry I fed you those eggs. I didn't know how starved you were left." His voice was menacing, but his face showed signs that he was clearly unhappy with himself.
"It's fine. I, uh..." She had no idea what to say, especially standing there wearing a towel.
She tried covering her body, embarrassed by all the scars and bruises and especially her body shape.
Edward frowned at her. She wasn't comfortable with him around, but he needed to help her.
"I have a cream for those if you'd like?" he asked uncertainly. Maybe she didn't want him around.
"That would be great, thank you."
"Come to the bedroom. I'll help you put it on."
He gathered up the fallen clothes and opened the door, letting her slip out.
"Lay down on the bed and I'll just get the bottle."
She clambered on the bed, her body facing the ceiling as she looked at the various shapes painted upon.
She heard him rummaging through the drawers before he patted her leg softly.
"Turn onto your stomach."
She complied, flipping her body over and cuddling the pillow in front of her as his arm started rubbing on her legs. She could feel her legs numbing, his hands were soft as they glided up her body.
When he reached her back, she felt a strange sensation in the pit of her stomach and she could not place why her mind was full of sinful thoughts involving her and Edward.
As his hands drifted towards her shoulders she had to rub her legs to get some friction.
What was he doing to her?
"I wish you'd stop doing that," he whispered, "you're being so tempting."
Isabella tilted her head up at his voice, her breathing becoming shallow at how close he was.
She moved her face closer to his, which was a feat of its own as he was pretty close, and before they knew what was happening they were kissing, a feet-tingling, passionate kiss. His arms traveled up her the length of body, setting a fire raging over her whole body.
Her hands entangled in his hair, trying to pull him closer and his in hers until he flipped them both over so she was straddling him, the kiss getting so hot she almost started pulling his clothes off.
Sensing they were about to go further then they should, he let go of her lips gently, leaning his forehead against hers as not to break contact.
Isabella wondered what had gotten over her as she lay across Edward's body trying to calm her breath; she was never like this, especially seeing as it was her duty to kiss her master. Never had she willing wanted to kiss any man.
oOo
A week had passed since she had come to live at Edward Cullen's house, and she could not have been happier. He made her feel cherished, special almost, his equal. But she knew it'd never happen.
He had made it clear: If she were to ever tell anyone anything or enter his basement, she'd be dead or tortured.
After the threat passed over, she found it very difficult to keep her hands off him or him off her.
She learnt a lot about him that week, his likes/dislikes, how he only had pet names for her, his adoration for his parents. Sometimes she felt like she was falling in love with him.
He had told her he felt deeply for her, but she didn't know how he knew her or where from and she had to find out.
So that night when she got ready to go to bed with him, she waited till he was in a mellow mood. It usually happened when they were snuggled in bed and watching reruns of Supernatural.
He'd play with her hair, then bury his face in her hair stroking her fingers before he started kissing her always from the top of her head then slowly down to her cheek progressing down to the tip of her tongue before continuing down to her neck. He'd kiss that spot on her neck and she would melt and attack.
For the last seven days, she knew more about Edward's body than what was happening in the program, not that she minded. But today she would be doing the seducing.
A queasy feeling bubbled up in her stomach. Was this right? She was throwing herself at a man who she got bought by a week ago. He'd marry her and probably would kill her. What if he thought her a whore? She felt like a whore, certainly.
What would her mother think?
After all, her mother had wanted more than this life for her. She had wanted her daughter to be a free woman with choices and the typical American Dream. Wiping away the tears that came from thinking about her mother, she decided she would not seduce him, but instead sit apart from him and watch the show.
At exactly ten pm, Edward sauntered in, shrugging off his suit as he got himself ready. Isabella ignored the urge to look up at him and instead went on reading the new book she got from the library.
He was whistling today. That was something she hadn't heard from him. Her mind filled with worry automatically.
What would happen if she pulled away?
Maybe he would torture her. She could imagine the sight. It would probably be in that wretched basement of his and then he would hurt her more for being in the basement.
Phil had done that once – she felt a shudder as she thought of him as 'Phil'. Edward had to coax that out of her. He had told her that thinking of him as master would let him win – and the dreaded memory was threatening to resurface.
She swallowed the bile and tried concentrating on the black and white print. Her hands shook as he came to bed. She felt it dip and his arms encircle her and pull her into him.
She felt his hard body against her back, but instead she couldn't relax. He noticed the stiff position as he started rubbing her back in what seemed like a soothing action; so, she fought harder to stay rigid.
Why wasn't the TV on?
"Isabella, is there a problem?" Edward snapped.
He didn't know what was wrong with her and it was getting on his damn nerves. He hated not knowing something.
"No, no. No problem at all." Her words were so rushed they even sounded garbled to her.
Edward squeezed his hands into a fist. Lashing out would not help the situation. If he threatened the girl, God knew what she would do.
"Isabellaaa, please, baby." He squeezed her softly and kissed her cheek and leaned his head in her hair.
"Please." The word was a whispered plea.
"It's nothing, like I said." Again it was garbled, almost nonsense.
Her eyes went to her lap, hoping he would ignore this and move away from her; his closeness wasn't helping at all.
"Have I done something? God, Isabella, I'm so sorry if I have. Forgive me."
He pulled away, sensing he wasn't needed, and lay over on his side.
Isabella sighed in relief. At least he hadn't hurt her, but a guilty feeling spread into her. She had hurt him.
She switched off the light and lay down herself, wondering about how to ask him now. He probably didn't want to talk to her any more. She couldn't even hold on to him when the nightmares came tonight. Squeezing her waist, she closed her eyes.
The stench made her queasy; it was like burning flesh. Looking down, she saw her hands bound by a tight red rope. She tried letting out a scream, but it was muffled by the duct tape.
The room was a little dark, but a shiny light was coming towards her, glinting in the darkness before she saw the whole object... a knife.
A knife.
Phil.
"Do you know what happens to girls that call their masters by their name?" Phil taunted, an evil grin spreading across his face. Before she could react, the duct tape was pulled in a quick, painful swipe. She screamed.
"Ooh, did missy let out a scream? She knows what happens to bad girls, doesn't she? DOESN'T SHE?"
He gave her three quick slaps.
"No please."
She was begging.
Why was she still speaking?
"Isabella, wake up. Wake up."
She jolted awake, her hands clawing at Edward's shirt, and he had a worried expression on his face.
Seeing his face, she burst into tears. He shouldn't be worried. Almost instantly he pulled her towards him till she was snuggled in his chest. His fingers wiped the tears from her face as he rocked them slowly1 offering her comforting words
She sniffed a few times and took a deep breath trying to calm herself.
"Will you tell me what's wrong? I swear I'll do anything."
She looked up at his face seeing the distress and the need in his eyes.
"I-I..."
"Yes...?" he encouraged gently.
"I don't think we should be intimate."
A frown settled on his face.
"Do you not like me?"
"No, it's not that..."
"Did you not enjoy our intimacy?"
"I did—" Isabella stopped short. How would she tell him?
"Then...?"
"Ifeellikeawhore."
"Isabella," he chided softly. "I know this is not the most conventional way for us to date, but I know I can't lose you, either. Do you feel forced here?"
"No."
"Do you want to do it?"
She hesitated a second before replying a short, "Yes."
"See, I like you and you like me. Let's be together."
Isabella felt a wave of calm go through, but there was still that nagging feeling.
"Where do you know me from?"
She had to find out.
His face crinkled into a half smile. "You don't remember, do you? Well, do you remember in Junior year the guy that you knocked over and spilled a whole load of coffee over?"
"Anthony Platt," she whispered. She remembered him. He was the first person to smile at her in that dreaded school. He had helped her to her feet and introduced himself and reassured her. His blonde hair and blue eyes with a tinge of green had kept her daydreaming through the day. "That was you!"
He chuckled. "Yes, I had to wear a wig and fucking contacts. It was the worst day ever and I was so tempted to put a bullet through that motherfucker's head that insulted me that morning, but I swear when you fell into me, you were like a Goddamn angel and I wanted you so bad. I wanted to steal you away from that wretched man, but my father wouldn't let me. He said Phil could be trouble, so the moment I turned twenty one, I had to make all the arrangements to get you. I warned him not to touch you, but clearly that bastard didn't learn, so I had him finished. Nobody will ever touch you as long as I'm alive or, hell, dead. You have to trust me and I know I just rambled a whole lot, but you get my point. Right?"
Isabella gaped in shock. No one, not a single person, had felt like this for her. It made her feel warm, fuzzy, and secure.
She grasped his cheek softly before kissing him. It wasn't a passionate kiss like before. Instead it was sweet chaste kiss.
"Thank you," he whispered finally.
"Now do you want to talk about your nightmare?"
Isabella faked a yawn. She hated talking about these dreams and the feelings they dragged up.
Edward chuckled at her antics. "You suck at acting, you know that? We'll talk tomorrow."
He held his arms out and she snuggled into him without an another thought.
"I also have some training for you tomorrow."
"Training?" Her question was barely detectable as her face was buried in his chest.
"Yeah, I need to make sure you can survive out there if you ever get taken away from me." Edward's voice broke a little at the end of his sentence.
"Not that I'll let it happen," he said hastily as he watched the confusion on Isabella's face. "They'll have to get through me before they get anywhere near you."
She reached over and smoothed his cheek – in a unconscious decision – which had become rigid in his anger of the idea of someone hurting her.
She kissed his cheek when he leaned towards her hand; she loved this feeling he made her feel, almost valuable to him.
The next morning, she woke up before the sun had arose to find Edward all ready and shaking her awake.
"Whaaat?" she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep.
"Time to rise and shine sweetie. Our training starts early."
"Ungh."
She stumbled out of bed and headed towards the bathroom, grabbing clothes that were laid out for her as she went. Only when she finished washing her face did she realise how lazy she had become. Her habits had been broken. If she was back in her old house she would have been making the beds right now.
The sky was a dark reddish colour as they stepped out into the forest. The crunch of the grail was deafening under their feet.
"Right, okay." Edward stopped in the middle of what seemed nowhere.
She glanced up as he gave the area a good look.
"These woods are approximately fifty acres. Most kidnappers will take you into desolate places like these and you need to know how to survive."
She nodded as he picked up a sharp, jagged rock from the floor and held it out to her.
"Pick up as much as you can of these; they are great for using to hit with and making fires if you ever get cold."
Isabella took it from his hand, feeling the weight of it on her hand. Turning it over, she caressed the indents.
"Now, be careful with that. You don't want to sprain your wrist by holding on too tight. When I try to attack you, I want you to hit me, either the top of my thighs or between my elbow and armpit."
Edward pulled her into a secure grip from behind.
"Hit me and surprise me, maybe bring it up a little to gain force."
Isabella took a deep breath as she brought the rock up and pulled back, ready to hit Edward's thigh, but as soon as she got near, her hand slackened and the rock hit the ground with a thud.
"What's wrong?" His hands went slack around her and turned her round till she faced him. He brushed his hand softly over her trembling cheek.
"I can't, Edward. What if I hurt you? What if...?" All the words were blubbering out of her mouth.
"Ssssh, ssssh, it's okay," he soothed, wiping the tears that had began streaking down her face.
"I've been through tough shit, too. Look. It hardly hurts any more." He revealed an arm full of scars, and then proceeded to reveal the scars on his chest that were camouflaged slightly by the black ink.
"Yes, but I don't want to inflict any more on you."
"It will be fine." He picked up the stone again and handed it to her.
She turned round and felt herself mold into the previous position, trying to secure a firm grip on the rock and swinging it hard onto his thigh. Edward's knees buckled and she watched his body fall with a surge of adrenaline pulsing through her.
"And now you run," he wheezed.
She didn't. Instead, she crouched down to his level and mumbled how sorry she was.
"You have to stop that," he said, "and you didn't run."
"I couldn't leave you."
"Yes, but it won't be me. Promise me you'll run."
Her eyes never let go of his as she said the words he wanted to hear. The moment felt so... so corny that she couldn't help the laugh that came out of her.
Edward raised his eyebrow in confusion.
"What's so funny, sweetie?"
Instead of giving a reply she laughed harder clutching her waist as she did so.
He laughed along with her and grabbed her, carrying her bridal style towards the house.
She snuggled into his chest feeling the beat of his heart against hers as the rhythm of it made her doze off.
When she woke up again, she was lying alone in her bedroom with a note and a red daisy placed upon it.
She paced around on the floor as she read the note:
Dear Angel,
You looked so beautiful sleeping I didn't have the heart to wake you.
I'm away for some business outside this area, and probably will be back by the time you wake up.
If not, just ask the cook for some food and have fun in the library!
Yours, E. Cullen
xox
She giggled at the note, clutching the flower to her chest. He was simply amazing. Before she knew it, she was twirling around the bedroom like a love struck girl—that was until her body hit a hard one. Edward.
"Ooft."
"Having fun there?"
"Yes," she giggled and kissed him pouring out all the feelings she could in that one kiss.
"Not that I'm complaining about this response," he muttered as he continued to kiss her neck, "but what brought it on?"
Isabella thought hard, and before she knew it, words she least wanted to come out of her mouth came out: "I love you."
She watched a grin erupt on his face as he spoke the words back and kissed her silly.
How they ended up on the bed she never knew or cared, but right now she knew she couldn't be any happier than now.
"Edward."
"Mmmm."
"I'm hungry." She pointed towards her quiet but slightly grumbling stomach.
"Oh, really." He swooped her up in to his back and started half jogging down the stairs while she giggled at his antics.
"Edward... Edward," she gasped, her stomach hurting from all the laughing and hunger, "people are looking."
It was true, the servants were looking at their master. They had seen him so stern and so uppity, but never laughing or having fun.
Edward plopped Isabella on the couch before tickling her until she was gasping for breath.
"Edward...mmm... stop, stop."
"I don't know about that."
She batted his hands away when the cook placed the food on the coffee table.
"Tuck in. I need to go check something." He started taping on his phone as he left the room.
As soon as Isabella took a few bites she could hear Edward yelling on his phone; the sound sent shivers down her spine. He was like a temperamental lion pacing around as he stepped back into the room.
"Whatever," he snapped and threw his phone away onto another couch.
He sighed and plopped next to his phone, his head facing the ceiling.
She placed her food back on the plate and walked up behind him to stroke his hair softly.
"Everything okay?"
"No," he spoke, sounding like petulant child resisting the urge to cross his arms.
"Really?" Her word stretched.
"Fine." He brought his arms up and pulled her onto his lap. "I want to cuddle you."
She giggled and kept stroking his hair as he buried his face into her neck.
"Pleaseee."
"You are not allowed to baby talk, love. That shit is not fair."
She grabbed his head up by hair and gave him short sweet kisses, pulling away before he could kiss her fully.
"Stop being mean," he mumbled against her lips and pulled her closer to kiss her. This time there was no resistance from her.
"Isabella, we have to get engaged. There are some complications."
She backed away slightly at the revelation, not knowing what to say or do.
"Please, say something," he begged after minutes of uncomfortable silence.
"Uh, do you want to?"
"Of course I do. Do you?"
"I don't know."
"Look, Isabella, we're going to get married anyway, but I thought that I'd do it the traditional way like down on one in knee and everything."
"Then do it now."
"Now?"
"Yeah, why not? I mean we're going to get married, we said we love each other, and it's a great day."
He didn't reply, instead exiting the room for a minute before running right back. He pulled her up off the couch and got on one knee, bringing out a black box with a gold intertwining into a love heart.
"Isabella Swan, you are the light of my dark life, the angel in my Hell. A day without seeing you at least once is just no good. I love how beautiful you are, how wrapped up you get into a book, and every time you kiss me and I can feel everything bad go away. I have started smiling, and I never smile. You're like sunshine I can't lose. Marry me."
He let out a huff. He had messed up most of the speech, but the intent was clear.
Would she like the speech? It wasn't that romantic a setting for a ...speech.
He was about to backtrack when she gasped, "Yes."
Proudly kissing her, he slipped the ring onto her finger, they stood.
It's the best kiss we've had.
Following their engagement, they spent their weeks training and exploring each other more and more until they were tired. Edward started going out on "business trips" more frequently, so Isabella practised on her own, trying out the different techniques Edward had taught her.
She found herself becoming stronger as the days went on and her confidence rising, and she was ready to have sex with Edward. She wanted to make love to him and show how thankful she was for him. However, she just didn't know how to put out.
Edward had been a gentlemen so far, not letting his hand 'dither,' but she wanted them to move away from the safe spots.
That day Edward came home in hurry, his hands flailing in anger as he spoke to someone on the phone.
"Isabella," he said as he finished his call, "please wear an evening gown, it seems we have soirée to participate at."
Before she could ask for more information, his phone rang and he walked out room as he answered it. She bounded up the stairs, trying to figure what could happen at this event. She hadn't attended one, so it was an utterly new experience.
The black dress she had slipped on covered most of her scars and remaining bruises, but she still had some left on her face and arms. Covering herself with what looked like foundation, she hoped it had the desired effect.
Only when they reached this soiree did she notice the bad looks she was getting from the females, their disapproval—they smiled fake smiles, wrinkled nose and mouth, but they kept quiet.
"Isabella, I want you at all times stay quiet unless you're spoken to," Edward whispered in her ear as he surveyed the guests. "Right now, I'm the most important man in New York. I practically own New York, so people will be looking for ways to get to me through you, and I have to show them you're not valuable."
She nodded slightly, her sight more consumed by the happenings in front of her.
It looks so... so normal.
Men in tuxedos and suits, whereas the ladies were in ball gowns and everyone was laughing.
"Isabella, I'm leaving you with Randy. He's going to take you in while I find my parents."
She nodded once more, gave Edward a chaste kiss and followed "Randy" through the crowd.
She avoided looking at the curious stares that watched as she was led through by this strange man. He took to her dark hallway and met with another man who looked suspiciously familiar. There was just something about the long blonde ponytail he adorned.
"She's the bitch my brother was killed over," his voice growled.
Randy nodded, an evil smile lighting up his face.
"Take her now!" the man spat, liquid hitting Isabella's face. Her hands struggled behind as Randy gripped them tightly.
She was blindfolded by a coarse material and pushed onto a uneven floor, a rag was thrust into her mouth, muffling her choking noises.
Her body struggled against the pain pulsating through her arms, her legs kicking in protest. Taking deep breaths through her nose, she started to calm herself.
Her face felt a whack before the pain came back, and then black...
oOo
Isabella woke up, her body aching, her back pressed against the wall. Her legs jolted up before the sudden move made her legs wobble and she landed back onto her bottom.
"Ugh," she groaned, closing her eyes for a second before she realised what had happened.
She had been taken away! She had to get out.
Pushing herself up again, she tread out of the empty room. Peaking out of the door slightly, she saw a large man placing chopped wood into a fire place. Memories of last night flashed up to her. He had taken her away.
Her eyes sized him up. He looked strong. The way his muscles bulged in his wife beater, she was sure he could crush her within minutes.
She'd have to tread carefully.
Glancing out of the slightly ajar front door, she saw a thick green colour obscured slightly by a dark black van. Her feet moved quietly towards the door, watching the strange man warily. Her breathing suddenly pounded in her ear and her heart began beating erratically.
The palm of her hand hit the wall soundlessly as she watched him, he was getting restless not being able to light a fire.
Her escape would have been successful if her dress hadn't caught in the hinges as she tugged upon it ripping it free and the door slamming shut at the action. She watched the man roar with frustration and charge towards the door.
Shit!
Picking up the nearest stone, she aimed towards his head, and as luck would have it, it did hit right on his head, causing him to stop and rub on the sore spot.
Her legs thrust forward, running as fast as they could towards the green forest. She could hear the guy's heavy footsteps rumbling behind her. The dress kept catching on the thorns that were spread on the ground. Her feet stumbling in pain as the thorns began cutting, she was about to stop when she heard the man's voice roaring for her, and that only fueled her to run faster.
Only she had no idea where she was running towards. All she could see was the green as she tried to escape.
The branches tried obscuring her view, but today she wasn't caring. Only when she fell into a splat of mud did she realise that she was in the darkest part of the forest. The trees grew thicker, sunlight barely streamed in, and the branches were shaped oddly, almost gauntly looking.
This was not the time to concentrate on branches!
Her eyes peered for an exit or trail that would lead her to safety but there was nothing except from trees and shrubs.
The pain in her leg had numbed and the blood had dried, so she ripped off half of her dress, leaving it up to her thigh, spat on it to get some moisture, and then rubbed the blood off. As she was rubbing, she realised how eerie the place was. Straining her ears for him, there was nothing but the rustle of leaves and the flow of a stream.
Stream!
She stood up at the thought. If she could find a stream it could lead her somewhere. Streams had ends and right now she was particularly thirsty.
Fisting the cloth in her hand, she headed towards the sound, her eyes alert, ready to make a quick exit if needed.
Somehow she felt that the man would not look for her here. Her feet were cut again as she wrestled through the bushes towards the noise.
It's definitely getting louder...
As the noise got louder, the need in her stomach for water increased, making her body push faster towards her destination. Only in her desperate need, she didn't foresee the branch that was erected in the middle which pushed her body, sending her falling right into the stream.
Gasping for breath as she came out of the water, her body shook with the coldness. There was barely any heat in this place and shivers were running down her spine. She cupped her hands and dipped them into the crystal clear water. She took a large sip. It was clean, pure water.
She drank as much as she could before the cold in her body forced her to huddle up and conserve some heat. A hungry yearn had started up in her stomach as well being consumed with the need for sleep. It was ironic the fall in the water had drained her.
She curled inwards so her back was to the tree, ready to run in case of danger, and fell asleep.
*~ Next Three Days~*
Hunger.
Pain.
Sleep.
Thirst.
Lost.
Nightmares.
Isabella crawled towards the steep hill, her legs scratched and torn as they made they way up, it seemed like there was a hint of a trail.
Her legs slumped as she gripped on to the grass, she could do no more; she closed her eyes hoping a little rest would keep her going.
She had barely closed her eyes when she heard the stomps of footsteps, her body flattened against the grass while she looked for the person.
Her body relaxed slightly when she realised it wasn't the captor, but it was a person—a person that could help her... hopefully.
"Excuse me," she tried crying out but nothing it was a bare whisper.
She tried again. Nothing. And the man was still walking, increasing the distance between her and him. She heaved herself up and set with new determination.
The adrenaline pumped in her body, making her run faster, but the hill was a battle, a steep battle she was sure to lose. This pushed her harder; she had to get out of here.
Once she was away from the hill, the running became easier, as it was a dry path, but the rocks pricked her foot.
A scream rose out of her, a scream she didn't know she had the strength to voice. Her body crumpled and fell onto the ground, the pain vibrating through her body. She couldn't do it any more.
oOo
"Miss... Miss, wake up."
Isabella felt a strong hand shaking her awake. She was lying in heaven right now and she didn't particularly want to wake up, but the hand wouldn't give up.
Knowing he wouldn't give up, she opened her eyes to a large black shape hovering above her.
A shape she hadn't seen before! Get away...
Her sudden moments to get out of the dingy mattress she was lying on caused her to bump heads with the man above her.
"Miss, calm down."
"Get away from me." The coarseness of her voice burned her throat.
"I wont hurt you, I promise." The man held his hands up as if to prove his innocence.
She eyed him carefully. His face looked friendly, kind of doggish maybe. It was the way his black hair flopped over his eyes, or maybe it was the grin that lit up his face. He had what seemed like a tribal tattoo on his left arm.
"The name's Jacob, by the way."
She nodded, not particularly caring at this moment, instead focusing on an easy exit. The room was dingy—a couple of cupboards stacked with CDs, a laptop at the corner of the mattress she was laying on, and scratchy paint.
"Do you have someone to... you know, you can go to?"
Isabella nodded, maybe he could call Edward.
He'd come...right?
She motioned writing in the air. If he got the clue, she wouldn't have to speak at all. Apparently this 'Jacob' guy was a smart one, as he started rummaging through his cupboards and brought a pen and a crumpled piece of paper.
She wrote down Edward's full name and his phone number and her name. She handed it to him, watching his eyebrows furrow.
"I don't think I even have enough credit for a call to New York," he mumbled to himself as he typed the numbers into his phone.
The phone rang twice before Isabella heard Edwards voice filter through. It sounded so broken.
"Hi, uh, this is Jacob Black. Um, Edward Cullen, right? I have Isabella here."
"Where are you?" Edward snapped wasting no time.
"I live above Forks Diner, it's—"
"I'll find it. I'll be there in an hour."
The phone gave the dial tone, alerting him that Edward had hung up.
"Whoa. You have a rude boyfriend," Jacob remarked, shaking his head at Edward's lack of manners.
Isabella grinned and tapped her dirty ring twice.
"He's your fiancée? Man, I feel sorry for you."
Isabella shook her head. Edward was the best person in her life.
"Whatever."
Jacob went to the corner of the mattress and started to work on his laptop, murmuring to himself as he did so.
Isabella watched him with apprehension. He seemed a bit nutty, but then again, who was she to judge? For the whole hour, she stared at the blank wall, daydreaming what she'd say to Edward when he arrived.
Three short raps on the door made her tense. She watched Jacob sigh and open the door, achingly slowly.
"Where is she?" Edward demanded.
"Chillax, she's right there." Jacob pointed towards her.
Edward brushed past him without a moments glance and pulled his arm out for Isabella.
She let him lift her up, her legs secured around his waist.
"Oh, God... you're okay." He kissed the top of her head, tightening his hands around her.
"I'm so sorry about Randy. He's been taken care of," he said, his tone darkening at the mention of his traitor employee.
She kissed his cheek softly, ignoring that Jacob was gaping at them in rapt attention.
"We're leaving. Thank you, Mr Black." Edward retrieved a wad of cash from his back pocket and threw it towards Jacob who caught it, a stunned expression still fixated on his face.
"I will never let you out of my sight again," Edward promised, his eyes gazing into hers, and Isabella never doubted it.