Disclaimer: I own nothing of Twilight. SM does, I just swim a few laps in her pool
AN: After having some serious writer's block on my first story, this one started to unfold for me. It may sound similar to a few others, but you won't be disappointed.
Last time I saw her it was turnin' colder
But that was years ago
Last I heard she had moved to Boulder
But where she's now I don't know
But there's somethin' 'bout this time of year
That spins my head around
Takes me back makes me wonder
What she's doin' now
'Cause what she's doin' now is tearin' me apart
Fillin' up my mind and emptyin' my heart
I can hear her call each time the cold wind blows
And I wonder if she knows...what she's doin' now
Just for laughs I dialed her old number
But no one knew her name
Hung up the phone sat there and wondered
If she'd ever done the same
I took a walk in the evenin' wind
To clear my head somehow
But tonight I lie here thinkin'
What she doin' now
'Cause what she's doin' now is tearin' me apart
Fillin' up my mind and emptying my heart
I can hear her call each time the cold wind blows
And I wonder if she knows
What she's doin' now is tearin' me apart
Fillin' up my mind and emptying my heart
I can hear her call each time the cold wind blows
And I wonder if she knows...what she's doin' now- What She's doing Now- Garth Brooks
EPOV:
Sept, 14 2020
BUZZ! BUZZ! What the fuck? Huh? My sleep addled mind shook the cobwebs of last night's efforts into a throbbing ache behind my left eye. I was caked with dried crusty sweat and my pillow was stained with drool. My breath smelled like a week old corpse's ass, and the taste was-
"Coming!" Growled as I swung my wobbling legs underneath me, in an effort to stand and make it to the door.
KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK! Fuck! Do you have to break the door or my poor head? Didn't I say I was coming? I reached the door, and undid the bolt, cracking it open. My brother the asshole was on the other side, with his over-muscled under-brained child-like self. His dark curly hair, blue eyes but his usual giant dimpled grin was gone.
His eyes were red and he was crying? What in the hell was going on? Emmett are you fucking bawling? "Em, What's wrong?"
Emmmet wailed in a gush of despair, "Edward! She's gone! That fucking bastard beat her to death while she was pregnant and turned a gun on himself! She called me but I was too late!" Not comprehending the exact identity of "she" yet, I asked as I opened the door and let him in, "What? Who-"
Emmett buried his head in his hands, "Bella! I told her James was no good! She always wanted to believe the best in people. I told her to leave him the first time he hit her and I beat his sorry ass so badly that I thought he would never-but she was pregnant and she tried to tell him it was his-he acc-accused her of being a filthy whore! Then he beat her until she cracked her head! They said she died on impact of blunt force trauma! You know how breakable she has always been!"
BELLA! MY BELLA? "NOOOOO!" I screamed out in anguish, my whole world shattered in that moment. Isabella Swan. My secret crush. I was her best friend and I let my cowardice keep me from telling her my true feelings.
We hadn't talked in a year since she dated her on-again, off-again high school boyfriend, James. James seemed kind and decent to the outside world, but inside he was a monster summoned from the fiery pits of Hell. He played sick and twisted mind games and he tortured women in gruesome delight. He had possibly raped, and brutally maimed at least 20 women in the state of Washington in the last five years. He just never left enough evidence behind for me and my brother to arrest his sorry ass.
We even had uncovered some highly likely yet inconclusive rumors that he was linked somehow to the Volturi human trafficking organization. We, along with the FBI and several other agencies had been trying to bust this group for years. They were the largest operation on the west coast, ran by Aro Volturi, a crooked business tycoon in the international shipping out of LA. He had a few offices in every major city on the west coast and few in Texas, Louisiana, Florida, Georgia, Boston and New York.
He was suspected of renting ships and warehouse spacing to drug smugglers, arms dealers, and even terrorist groups. The problem is that he was so polished and urbane on the outside, that few of the powers that be wanted to investigate his operations more seriously than a few cursory inspections and a watch on financial data. As the operation flourished, the number of missing girls rose and the number of cases solved decreased. Even with these alarming coincidences, the government still was loath to believe Volturi was linked to the underworld.
James was working for or with someone with eyes and ears in the law enforcement community. I had confronted him a few times, but was never able to get him to confess. Why?
Bella, of course, wanted to hear nothing of our "suspicions," she simply was in denial.
This was the guy who took her virginity.
This was the guy who took her to prom.
This was the guy who whispered sweet nothings before he made her believe she was worthless!
I wanted to bring him back to life so I could strangle him and watch the life drain from his eyes. That fucking piece of shit did not deserve to lick the toilet after my Bella! Yet she chose him. She had pushed us all away to try to "work it out!" The worst part being, it was all my fault! If I had just had the courage to confess my feelings to her in high school, then James never would have had a chance to touch her! I wanted to beat myself!
Let me back up for a minute...
Well, when I was eighteen, I joined the Navy and became a SEAL, along with my brother Emmett and my best friend Jasper Whitlock. We were a part of the most elite team ever assembled. We were the ones that the government sent in when there was no hope of success, but we seemed to have a knack for pulling off the impossible.
Emmett was the weapons specialist and demolitions expert. He could use anything that could fire a round or blow something to hell.
Jasper was our tactical genius. He could read the recon reports and form a plan of action faster than anyone I have ever known, plus he could shift on the fly, when the shit hit the fan.
I was the combat specialist. I knew more about martial arts than any man had a right to know. I could disable, maim, kill or heal with a touch. I was also the commander. I had always been the guy. I was popular, athletic and the ladies found me irresistible.
I never really settled down, but I had my fair share of action. When we retired, Emmett and I became SWAT officers and Jasper became a psychologist. He had been dating my sister Alice since freshman year of high school, and they were married with three kids.
Emmett was married to Jasper's cousin Rosalie Hale. She was a gifted mechanic and engineer at Boeing.
Alice, Rose and Bella grew up together in our hometown of Forks, Washington.
Bella and I were best friends. We liked the same music, food and books. She had a quiet sense of humor and a selfless personality that made her one of the most promising young teachers in our state. She was a bit of an outcast and a geek in school, but to me she was always beautiful.
I guess we never dated, because we were afraid of losing our friendship. Her junior year she lost the glasses and braces and "filled out" until she was almost as beautiful in appearance as she was on the inside.
That was when she met him. James Spencer. He was a rebel-loner with long blond hair and pale blue eyes. She found him ruggedly handsome, and all but died when he asked her to prom.
They dated until he left for college and then she caught him with another girl one day when she went to surprise him at school.
I was off in the Middle East at the time, so I couldn't be there for her. She was so depressed. Alice comforted her, and they went to NYU together.
She graduated and came home to Forks as a kindergarten teacher. James returned and begged Bella to take him back. She finally forgave him, and they were together ever since.
Well, in spurts.
And now we were close to breaking the case. Well, the organized crime unit and the violent crimes division, that is.
We were SWAT, so naturally we were assigned to suppress the more aggressive crimes such as bank robbery, hostage situations, bomb threats and terroristic attacks. Last night, we had stopped a hostage situation in a jewelry store, without any civilian casualties, so we went out to the bar and celebrated, hence the huge fucking hangover this morning.
"Attention SWAT. Attention SWAT. Proceed to 1501 Spruce. Captain's orders. Assist Bomb Squad with search and disposal of any explosive or dangerous devices left on scene. "You okay Em? Looks like we gotta roll!"
Emmett and I took his jeep to the crime scene where the state police and the FBI were combing the place for evidence. We flashed our badges and approached the house. I knew we had to be careful, because this guy was dangerous. He was just the type to leave a parting gift in the form of a fiery explosion or poison gas bomb.
I had a feeling that there was some kind of clue that maybe the detectives and the forensic teams might have missed that would lead me to find the missing pieces of this tragic and devastating event. Three things came to mind:
1) He was more than a rapist. Young women had been disappearing in the area at an alarming rate in the past few years and I was certain he didn't just murder Bella for being pregnant.
2) He had to have accomplices in this operation. The lack of evidence, the sophistication of the details and the hardware we had uncovered at the crime scene suggested deep funding that James just never took me as the type to have the resources to get.
3) The likelihood of booby trapping just increased ten-fold with these conclusions. I couldn't help but feel a bit skittish as we probed fro explosives and other common devices, knowing somehow in the back of mind that anything obvious was a decoy.
We searched the house for signs of traps. We started from the top and worked our way down. As Emmett and I made my way to the basement looking for some kind of clue, we came upon something interesting. It was shoved out-of-sight. Under the stairs, in the shadows, was a box labeled "High School Memories" written in Bella's hand. I carefully probed for hidden devices, incendiaries or other traps. Encountering no such thing, I began to inventory the contents. It was fucking excruciating to smell her scent on each item as I warily searched for something I wasn't even certain I'd find. After looking under a few yearbooks, I found a small book with no title. Wonder what the fuck this could be? Intrigued, I opened it…