Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight.
Summary: To escape her abusive husband, Bella Swan-Newton flees to Italy. She tries to start a new, normal life among the streets of the elegant city. There she meets Jasper, a hauntingly attractive man with a deadly secret. He's a vampire guard for the Volturi. JasperBella, AU
Alright! Here's an idea that just struck me as interesting. I debated on what characters to use for quite a while - first it was Em and Rose and now I finally landed on Jasper and Bella, which is probably my favorite pairing at the moment. This fic will be entirely in Bella's POV, because my other chapter fic, "Long Road to Ruin", switches POVs every now and then and it tends to be tiring. Lol.
So, anyway, here's chapter one! I hope you enjoy!
On the Streets of Italy
Chapter One: Escapism
I knew I didn't have much time.
My bag was hastily packed. I only had one, for I didn't have enough time to get every item of clothing I owned into the many bags it would take to carry them across the ocean to Europe.
Yes, Europe.
A place that I had wanted to travel to even as a little girl. Under better circumstances, I would've been ecstatic beyond belief. But right now, as I looked at the purpling bruise on my cheek, I was more relieved and scared at the same time than anything else.
My slender fingers ventured up to my face, caressing the area where my husband struck me not two hours ago. I shivered as the cold skin of my hand came into contact with the slightly burning feel of the new bruise. The panging of my ribs started up again. The pills I took earlier must've worn off. I stumbled to the sink of the kitchen, reached up into the cabinet, and took out a bottle of painkillers.
I filled a glass with water from the sink, popped the pills into my mouth, and then swallowed. The ribs hurt, but I wasn't about to stop in a hospital anywhere near here. Not where he could find me. The pain was something I could deal with. Trying to find another opportunity like this was not.
My eyes narrowed slightly as I glanced over to our bedroom - soon to only be his - and I made a disgusted sound deep within my throat. I brought my hands up to the slender column of my throat afterwards and brushed my fingertips lightly there. Wincing, I knew there were going to be large bruises there later. All because of the "man" that had promised to love and cherish me till death did we part.
Mike Newton is the son of a rich industrial tycoon and inherited a lot of money when his parents died. He was the one who kept watch over everything in the business, and he got all the profit from it. He also got all the stress, which he constantly took out on me. He was an alcoholic as well, which never helped the fact that he used me as his punching bag on a daily basis.
We have only been married for about two years. The first year, he was all romantic and charming, always having the nicest things to say, bringing me presents on even the most mundane days. Always calling me kind names like sweetheart and darling and a bunch of others kind words.
It was all a lie, I'm starting to believe. Or, no, rather I know it was a lie.
His parents died a couple of months ago, and that's when Mike started hitting me. Not only that, but degrading me, calling me things that are the complete opposite of the terms of endearment he used to use on me. Things like whore and bitch left his mouth more than once while he was slapping me around.
Not only that, but he started to cheat. He didn't even try to hide it in his text messages or phone calls. Sometimes he'd stand right in front of me and talk to his latest conquest. Even go into detail. That's when I'd rip into him, and then he'd hit me around some more for being "disobedient" as he put it.
It's been almost a year. I tried to put up with him the best I could, because I loved him, but now…I can't take it anymore. I can't stand having to make excuses as to why I'm always in pain, why I'm always injured, why I have a black eye everyday at work. I also have a sense of pride about myself. I don't like going down like an injured dog.
So I'm running.
Yes, it's the coward's way out, but what else am I supposed to do? Stay here and take the cheating, the abuse…
No, I'm not that kind of woman. I tried to stick it out the best I could. Tried to take it, tried to persevere, and what did that get me? A black eye, bruises, and probably broken ribs. Not to mention the hit it took on my pride as well as my body.
Therefore, after the usual beating, I sucked up to him. I told him I'd get him a drink to ease his problems. I then fixed his usual - scotch - and put some kind of sleeping agent into it. It knocked him out in a second. I had gotten my things together and rushed to get out of the house before he could wake up and realize what I had done to him.
This was my only chance and I was taking it.
I could hear his heavy snoring from the bedroom and my eyes hardened at the sound of it. This would, hopefully, be the last time I would have to endure that.
I was headed to Italy without a care in the world. I had scrounged up the money I had saved over time to pay for a one-way ticket. I was an orphan, so no one would really miss me. My friends hadn't spoken to me since I had graduated from school, but I had a cousin I was going to stay with that lived in Italy.
I heard him move, the bedsprings squeaking underneath his weight. Hopefully he wouldn't find out where I was after I was gone.
Inhaling shakily, I grabbed my bag from beside my feet and slung it onto my shoulder. I walked swiftly to the door, careful not to make any loud sounds that would wake him from his precarious slumber.
I twisted my slim hand around the golden metal of the doorknob, noticing now that I had a red mark around my wrist as well, shaped to perfectly mimic his large hands wrapping around my slender limbs. I narrowed my eyes, cursed the bastard that did this to me, and opened the door in one swift motion.
But before I closed the door behind me, I looked down at my left ring finger. Sitting there, almost mockingly, was my wedding ring. A bitter smile crossed my features as I stared at the little reminder of the worst time of my life. Biting my lip, I yanked the ring from my finger so fast that it got caught on my knuckle and split the skin there as well. I didn't care, though. I was finally leaving this place.
I then placed the ring on the small table beside the door before scribbling a little note onto a piece of paper beside the band. I put my words in the simplest, shortest way possible.
I'm leaving. Don't look for me. I'll send you the divorce papers. - Bella.
A bit harsh? Maybe. But did he deserve it? Hell yeah.
With a final glance at the house, I turned and shut the door, not looking back until I was securely in my car.
I drove, not looking back, not letting the thought of a drunken, unaware Mike cloud my thoughts. I couldn't afford to think of him now. Not ever again if I wanted to keep my sanity and my status as an independent woman. I hadn't noticed that I was about thirty miles over the speed limit until I passed a sign. I groaned and slowed down reluctantly. My dad used to be a policeman before he passed, and he definitely wouldn't like that. There were no cops out right now, but still, I wasn't going to take any chances. I needed to get away from this town and fast.
I arrived at the airport in a matter of minutes, which was strange. I thought it would've taken longer than that but I was surprisingly - and pleasantly - wrong.
I got out of the car with a sense of floating. I felt lighter than air, like my feet had grown wings. I had just processed the feeling of utter freedom that I had received by finally leaving my abusive husband. I'd have to find a lawyer sometime or another, I knew, and get divorce papers sent to him. I'd do that it time, because I wanted to celebrate my newly found freedom right now, although the painkillers had yet to take effect on my throbbing ribs and the bruises on my neck were starting to pound with pain as well.
I grasped my bags from the back of my car and walked swiftly to the doors of the airport. They swung open and I inhaled deeply.
Yes, this was it.
I felt a surge of adrenaline power through my veins, hard and fast, like the strong undercurrents of an ocean.
I was free. All I had to do now was buy the ticket and get on that plane.
I walked, slightly limping, to the counter where the tickets were sold. I still had a bruise on my thigh from a few nights ago and it had yet to heal. I looked the woman in the eye - she had depthless blue eyes and a head of black hair cut into a bowlike style. I saw an embarrassed flush grace her cheeks as she looked me over, obviously shocked by my disheveled appearance.
"Yes, ma'am, can I help you?" She asked, and the tone of awe in her voice was palpable.
"I need a ticket to Italy, please." I said, smiling at her. I heard her gasp audibly at the gravelly, rough sound of my voice. All thanks to my throat being squeezed shut by my - soon to be ex - husband.
"Y-Yes, okay." She said, typing some things up on her computer and then looking at me, "Cash or credit?"
"Credit." I said, handing her the card. She took it in trembling, tanned fingers and swiped it. She then told me the price of it and I grinned. Good thing I took Mike's credit card. Maybe he wouldn't see what I charged to it for long. I didn't want him to find me or anything, but the prospect of costing him a couple thousand bucks was a temptation I couldn't resist.
"Thank you," She said before asking for my passport, which I showed her. She took it in her hands, glanced it over, and gave it back.
Almost, almost. I was almost on that plane and free from anything that would hurt me.
"Alright. Looks like you're good to go, Mrs. Newton."
I winced at that, reminding myself to drop the retched title from my name as soon as I could.
"It's Mrs. Swan now, but alright. Thank you very much," I smiled pleasantly and glanced at her nametag, "Liz."
Liz smiled, embarrassed, and scratched the back of her thin hair.
I nodded at her, my deep brown hair falling over my shoulder as I did so, and I walked to the door that led to the plane.
My heart was suddenly racing, beating mercilessly against my chest. I wasn't sure if this was a product of excitement or the fact that I was so close and I was worried that I'd be caught by some sick, cruel twist of fate.
I clenched my one small bag, knowing that it was compact enough to fit in the overhead compartment. Yes, I didn't have enough clothes, but I figured I'd go on a shopping spree with my cousin later when I got settled in. Though I hated shopping, I figured that buying some new clothes was a necessity considering how little I'd brought with me on this venture of mine.
Walking down the hall, I saw various stages of my marriage with Mike go through my brain - the time we first met, our "I do's," the honeymoon in Jamaica, the year after, his parents dying, the first time I caught on to his cheating, the first time he hit me, the first time he forced himself on me…it all culminated to this night, this time when I finally planned enough to escape, to flee, to free myself from his terrifying presence - hopefully - once and for all.
Shaking my head, I steeled myself and walked into the safety of the airplane, giddy with the prospect of a new life.
Of starting over.
End Chapter One.
Alright! There's my new chapter fic! This chapter wasn't that long, just to introduce Bella's character and get everything straight and all. Like explain her situation and everything. I hope y'all enjoyed this! And if you did, please review! I would really appreciate it! It would mean a lot.
Anyway, thanks so much for reading! I have big plans for this story! I got lots of it planned out in my head, but other things I'm gonna have to think on.
Okay, so…yeah, that's pretty much all I have to say. So, I just decided to get this chapter up so maybe I'll get some feedback. And if enough people like it, I'll post the next one! I'm really excited for this fic, so I hope y'all are too!
Thanks again!