Thanks for the comments and encouragement from the last chapter, it was like getting presents on Christmas morning! (it may be pathetic but its true). It's also like meth, I need more! Just got to have my fix! Hopefully there's more excitement in this chapter. Enjoy!
As usual I own none of the characters or plot settings of this work, which belongs to Mrs. Meyer.
Chapter 2
Saturday passed in an exhausted haze. No sleep combined with the trauma of the past couple of days had drained me. Charlie left early for work; I had to assume that the Forks law enforcement was completely understaffed to justify a high ranking officer going into work at seven on a Saturday morning. Like a good daughter, I made Charlie breakfast, surprising him with the fact that I was up so early. But in all honesty it was hard to not show my discomfort at being left alone.
After his cruiser pulled out of the driveway I tiredly checked all the locks again. Finding them secure I decided to give sleeping another try. I don't remember of I did sleep or if I just drifted on the edge of consciousness, none the less the next thing I knew Charlie was pulling up in the driveway to grab a bite during his lunch break. His none too quiet footfalls told me he was outside the front door, followed by the rattle of his key in the lock, then the sharp arrest of the door as the chain held the door locked four inches from the frame.
"Bella, why is the door chained shut?" he called up to me.
"Coming!" I hollered back, as I clumped town the stairs, still not fully aware of the surroundings. I slid rather than stepped down the last two steps, jarring my heel, causing me to hiss in momentary pain. That was enough to restore my faculties—at least somewhat—and I quickly unlatched the door. Charlie frowned at me with a puzzled look on his face, opened his mouth to speak then thought against it and headed for the kitchen. I headed for the couch thinking to distract myself with some television only to finally drift off into sleep two minutes into a re-run of Friends.
The horrifying cackle of a sales woman on an infomercial for the Magic Crockpot woke me up. It was dark outside and the clock on the DVD player flashed nine o'clock. My stomach growled. How long had it been since my last meal?
After making myself a sandwich. . . . or two, I crawled back into bed to try again at sleep.
Thankfully there were no dreams that night, or at least none I could remember the next morning. For the duration of the day I put my concerns to the back of my mind and concentrated on laundry and homework. I decided eventually that my calculus problems were as correct as they were going to get and unless I wanted to mop again there was no house work to do, so I tried picking an Austen from my bookcase only to find myself rereading paragraphs and getting lost on pages. Resigning myself to it I flicked on the television and settled on news, hoping to be distracted by the problems of the rest of the world. I was in for a rude awakening.
"Today in Portland, city officials hoisted a 1998 ford Neon out of the Columbia River, discovering the bodies of four Seattle-area residents," an attractive woman stated in a falsely grim tone. "The car belonging to a Mrs. Karen Roberts was discovered by local barge men early this morning. The bodies have been identified as Lonnie Roberts, Cole Hendricks, Steven Kirk, and Joseph McAblert. Speed and alcohol were likely factors in this tragic accident. Further investigations are. . ." I cut it off there. As the reporter read out the names the local news station showed photos of the crash victims. Three of their faces I might not have recognized, but the face of Lonnie Robert, the blond hair and cocky leer I recognized immediately. Oh my god. . .
He killed them. Edward killed the men who attacked me. I had no doubt in my mind that Edward had it in him to do something like that; after all I had seen the look in his eyes, the unquenched thirst for violence. I saw it burning in his eyes the moment I got into that car. I shuddered and closed my eyes hoping to repress what I had just heard.
It didn't work. I went through the motions of the rest of the day, saying hello to Charlie when he got home, ordering pizza after realizing that cooking was right at the bottom of the list of thing I wanted to do. I showered, brushed my teeth, and went to bed all while being stalked by the knowledge that tomorrow weather I liked it or not I would be sitting next to a murderer one who had an appetite for destruction and blood.
I slept fitfully, waking up to the blaring of my alarm clock and the smell of rain. Sunlight struggled to penetrate the dense cloud cover, giving the day an eerie dead look to it. As I got dressed I pondered skipping school and boarding a plane to Peru, or at least asking Charlie to call the attendance office to say I had the mumps and wouldn't be coming back to Forks High. Instead I squared my shoulders grabbed my bag and swept out of the house, only to sweep back in to grab my rain coat and ruin the dramatic exit I had worked up. The tardy bell was only a few minutes from ringing is I reluctantly urged my truck faster and pulled into one of the few remaining spots in the parking lot. Taking a deep breath I stepped out of the car glanced over both shoulders and jogged to class.
Just before entering English I caught a glimpse of him standing right outside the Spanish building, staring at me. Quickly I ducked into class and slid into my seat, receiving a frown from Mr. Berty for interrupting his instructions.
Pathetic as it was I had hoped the Cullens wouldn't show up today. That not being the case I had no choice but to confront Edward. Today.
