The rain pours thick over the city like slow molasses, drizzling deep down into its underbelly and soaking it to the core. Wet penetrates each and every thing with a malevolent creep that slip slither slides into the sewers.
But mostly, the rain just soaks my nest.
I shiver, knowing that I won't be dry tonight. All the shelters are surely full, though I cannot risk trying to stay in one. He might find me. And what then? Would he make me go back to that house? Would he beat me senseless, or within just an inch of it so I could lay and be miserable in the knowledge that I failed him? And that's the problem, the problem with me lying here when my work was left undone at the house. The problem was that I was being useless. I shook not so much from the cold, wet, or hunger, but more from the deep-down sort of knowledge that I was being a very, very bad girl.
My bones grate on the thinner edges of my space. My skin feels thin enough to betray my very bones to the outside world.
"Hey there, angel."
Jacob's voice rises like a sweet sunshine into my ears and warms my skin. I smile, despite the tensing of my muscles and quickening of my rabbit-fast heart. This is just Jacob, silly. He's never hurt you, no, not once. Not wanting to brave the rain, I turn my head just so I can peer out from under the top of the bin. What a sight I must be! He would be furious.
"Hi." My voice comes out too soft. I hope he's heard so I don't have to repeat myself. No need to draw attention.
"Wish I could squeeze in there with ya. It's fucking-" Flinch. I can't help it. "-awful out here."
"I'm sorry. Maybe-"
He's down on my level fast, too fast. Searching brown eyes pour into mine and the invasion hurts- even though it's just Jake. "Don't apologize, sweet girl." He reaches out to touch my chin, and I can nearly feel the disappointment weighing heavily off of him when I tuck my face back in. He knows I don't like to be touched.
"Listen. I'm going down under the bridge tonight. Hear me out! I know it's scary for you, but I'll be there with ya the whole time. No one will bother us. The weather's too bad for you right now and your shelter is on its last legs."
I consider the cracked plastic above me. He's right, but if we're down there, there's so much that can go wrong, and I-
"C'mon now."
I extract myself slowly from the shelter to avoid his outstretched hand. The rain preys upon every dry bit of me, and like the slow winter chill draws life from fall, it begins to draw mine. Tremors make my bones feel brittle. Jacob lets his soaking plastic poncho fall over my head to shield off the majority of the wet. I don't protest. This is something I wish was different- that I could be like normal girls, and actually stand up for myself. Say I wanted things to be a certain way. But ever since she left, he had beaten that right into my very core. I am in charge. Not you. Never you.
We make our way through the alleyways of the city, Jacob trading silent nods with allies and edging carefully past the territory of those less friendly. This is partially why he heaps old trench coats and sweatshirts and the like over me. The more covered I am, the less noticeable and hopefully the less appealing. The drug addicts, gangbangers, and others were always hunting. For a hit, for some cash, but mostly for anyone defenseless. I tried not to stray from my hiding places unless in Jacob's wake. With a dark complexion and stone-y features, he cuts an imposing figure that is a challenge in its own right. He's also built himself a fair reputation for fighting, which doesn't help my anxiety around him. But I need him. For safety, and to keep me somewhat sane out here.
The bridge is a nasty part of our makeshift community. Jake says that wherever large groups of people gather, there's bound to be trouble. Just as this is true of higher crime rates in cities, this is also true of the bridge.
A sad little river was cause for its construction, but it's a sickly little thing that is more sludge than anything else. Shopping carts, car tires, used needles- you name it. Under the bridge was best for storms like this, because the river hardly swelled at all and it was the most sheltered from the elements. Especially back where the bridge was low to the sloping upwards ground, by where it met the road- if you could wedge yourself under there, you could stay dry. Or dry off, in our case.
The problem was that I couldn't stay here by myself. I hardly allowed Jake to convince me to come, normally. But I had lost so much weight since coming out here that cold ate right through me. I couldn't land in a hospital. He might find me. So Jake got his way tonight.
Foreign hands wisped along my shoes, the bottom of my pants, the sides of my coats. Jacob wolfishly bared his teeth, standing up taller despite the lower and lower the ceiling got. I knew he was trying to protect me, but it still gave me bright flashes of hot panic. I doused them as soon as they came.
"Right under here. C'mon angel." He threw a warning glare at two skinny kids not much younger than us. They scurried farther back into the darkness and away from a dry corner. We crept into it, nestling down and knotting together for the body heat. I made sure to keep our layers in between us. I needed this for survival, but my heart still nearly beat out of my chest.
"Sleep, Bella." Ah, another solid instruction. Sometimes, though I was thankful each day for escaping him, I missed the security of Charlie's dominance.
I slept.
The crack of thunder didn't wake me so much as the incessant plea of my bladder did. The storm had continued, but the rain appeared to have let off for a bit. I crept away from Jake, which woke him immediately from the aware-and-asleep state he had settled in to.
"I will be right back. I just have to pee." His eyes shimmied closed again, into little slits.
"Not too far."
Resisting the urge to apologize or thank him, I wormed my way out from our corner. Once the ceiling was high enough to stand bent, I dodged out from under the bridge into a little group of bushes. I could at least have some privacy- a luxury not to be underestimated out here.
I peeled away the hanging ends of my upper layers to get at my pants, and had just put my fingers on the button and zipper when I felt ice against my skin.
Metal. On my hip. A neck, at my mouth. I could smell fresh soap, tinged of man.
Fear, like a wild beast, reared its head and swallowed me whole.
"Hello, Isabella."
Darkness.