Author's note: Chapter has been edited. Thank you to my beta Fainting Fancies 04/27/09
Chapter 3 – Late One Night
September 2008
The twinkling lights above the bar reflected outward through the rims of the wineglasses that hung neatly in rows above the patrons' heads. One set of large balloon globes were suspended upside down in a set of sleek, wooden holders. With the flair of a pixie, the light cast a prism of sparkles strewn across the walls like diamond-encrusted snowflakes directly in front of a pensive young man. Jacob Black studied the odd pattern, his usually happy face encased in a dark mask.
"Hey," Amy asked softly. "Have I lost you already?" The young woman's photography training had honed within her an inherent skill of observation, allowing a unique outlook of the world around her. In imitation of a maturing wine, Amy's talent had progressed over the years to a level of fine art and an unusually bright aptitude for capturing detail. Now, as she sat and closely watched her friend, she put her talent to good use. As a result, Jacob's expression had not gone unnoticed.
They had been talking amicably enough. For over an hour they had waited in her car at the ferry terminal, allowing an easy flow of conversation to enhance their mood. But now as they sat on the high, wooden stools at the end of the polished oak bar, Jacob had grown silent.
The tone of the place they had chosen to rekindle their friendship was certainly festive. The Camaraderie Saloon should easily have been able to lighten even the darkest of moods. Filled with a steady stream of regulars and casual visitors, the bar was continually buzzing with activity. It was a long-standing favorite of Amy's, conveniently located at the end of a one-way street directly across from her apartment building. The friendly watering hole had been one of many attractive features of this welcoming Seattle neighborhood that had factored into Amy's decision when choosing her new residence. Tonight, however, the atmosphere lacked the usual warmth.
Staring at her glass of Diet Coke, Amy could feel the tension as she waited for Jacob's answer.
"Nah," he finally replied. "I guess I'm just not very good company this evening. I suppose I've been a little out of sorts these past few days. Or, should I say these past few years," he admitted with a characteristic smile. The dazzling white teeth that Amy loved had finally made an appearance. The change in his features seemed at first glance to be a dramatic improvement, but something was missing.
"Funny," Amy laughed, but the sound of her short outburst sounded more like a depressed snort.
"What's so funny?" Jacob asked as he turned toward her, his glistening ebony eyes shrouded carefully with a plastic imitation of joviality.
The look in his eyes frightened Amy, but only a little. Where was the Jacob she had known so well during their high school days? The man before her now seemed to have aged beyond his years. His expression appeared more worldly, or was there something else? What was hidden underneath this new protective façade?
"Oh, nothing," she replied. "It's just that both of us seem to be a little down this evening. Imagine that." With a fleeting grin, Amy's eyes locked with his as she took the measure of this new Jacob. Somewhere, she hoped, underneath this protective shell, her old friend still remained. Perhaps with a little prodding, she could release him.
Feeling a little uncomfortable at Amy's steady gaze, Jake looked away. The man's smile had disappeared. With a loose grip, he lifted the bottle of Rainier beer and took a long swig before placing the drink back on the bar. His long fingers twirled the glass bottle, the action mellowing the awkward silence that had fallen between them. And then as if making a decision, his expression grew curious, and he got right to the point.
"Can you ever stop thinking about Edward?" he blurted out, his eyes now intense as he awaited her reply.
Surprised and half stunned at his directness, Amy felt a pair of hot tears spring to her eyes. Of course she was thinking about him. She had never stopped. Closing her eyes briefly, the memory of her last conversation with Edward Cullen floated before her eyes with the subtlety of a water color.
It had been the night before her audition, and there had been no warning. He had been as cordial and encouraging as always, providing last-minute instructions on her upcoming performance. But then she remembered the look in his eyes when she caught him staring at her. Those luscious caramel-colored eyes had burned with a wicked desire that had made her cheeks flush in response. Always the gentleman, he had turned quickly away, but not before she had caught a glimpse of his fleeting smile.
She had been sure that he wanted her. At the age of seventeen, Amy had been an untouched bud of a flower, but her heart had been lost to Edward for years. Her young innocent mind had naively assumed that she understood his desires. But then, why had he gotten angry?
Forcing herself back to the present, she refocused on the man beside her. "You know the answer to that," Amy replied with a slight tinge of frustration in her voice. "I think about him every day, every hour. You of all people—"
With lightening speed Jake's hand flew out and grabbed Amy's arm. She looked up at him in surprise, her eyebrows lifting in a question.
"Yes," he interrupted. "Me of all people. We've got to stop this. We're acting like a couple of zombies just pretending to be alive. Why can't we wake up?"
"I … I don't know. Maybe I don't want to," Amy answered so softly that Jacob could barely hear her in the crowded bar.
"You never did tell me what happened to you that night. I was sort of, you know …"
"Preoccupied? Yes, I remember."
Without resistance from Amy, Jacob's hand slid up and around her shoulder, his long, sinewy arms flexing in a protective gesture. They sat that way, unmoving, both of them trying to get used to the feel of the other. An uncomfortable break in the conversation ensued as neither of them wanted to speak, but then Amy leaned slightly into Jake's chest as if the action would break the silence. The movement seemed to grant permission, and he pulled her closer, her cheek fitting directly into the nook beneath his collarbone. Lowering his head Jacob brought his lips to her forehead and softly kissed her pale skin.
"Hey," Jake whispered into her ear. "Let's get out of here. I'd love to see how you've decorated you new digs."
With a shy smile, she answered, "I'd love you to see it."
Without another word, they stood up to leave, neither one wanting to let go of the other. Turning sideways, Jacob threw a twenty-dollar bill on the bar, then guided Amy out the door.
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Reluctantly, Jacob had released his grip on Amy's waist as they approached the entrance to the apartment house. At the door to her unit, he fell casually against the wall and watched with amusement as Amy dug in her purse for her keys. With a look of nonchalance, his hands were stuffed in the pockets of his jacket, and his hood still covered his short, cropped hair. Only his face had managed to escape the coating of clothes that now enclosed his body like a mummy's wrap.
"Isn't there a key hidden under the mat?" Jacob teased, his playful tone a welcome reminder of the past. "I thought that's where everyone kept a spare."
"If everyone put a key under their doormat, then it would no longer be a hiding place anymore, would it?" she replied, her attempt at a witty reply causing the reaction she had been hoping for.
Shrugging his shoulders, a smile escaped and spread easily across his face. There were times when his recent shroud of depression would lift to reveal the true character of Jacob Black, the optimistic free-thinker that she remembered.
After locating the troublesome key, Amy finally unlocked the door and swept inside. Jake followed at a leisurely pace, his smile reverting to a subdued level of thoughtfulness as he examined the entryway. But then even the slight, remaining grin quickly faded. The walls of the small hallway were covered with framed photos. Many of the larger works captured dramatic scenes of wildlife and picturesque mountain scenery, but it was the portraits that had caught Jacob completely by surprise. It had been the sheer number of images gracing the small vestibule that finally washed away the last remnant of Jacob's smile. He was overwhelmed.
Coming up behind him, Amy shyly laid her hand on his arm. "What do you think?"
"Wow, I don't know what to say. They're wonderful. How did you get these close ups? I mean, I know you two were friends, but …" Jacob's voice trailed off as his eyes were drawn to a grouping of three snapshots tucked artistically into a rectangular frame. Two of the photos were of Bella Swan sitting at picnic table, the brick school building gracing the background. In the center was a portrait of Jacob with Bella taken on a rare sunny day at La Push beach. In the frozen image the couple's arms were wound tightly around each other's waist as Jacob stared down adoringly at the woman he loved.
"I'm sorry. I'd forgotten I had those," Amy apologized, reaching up to snatch them off the wall.
"No," he said and grabbed her hand. "Please. I like your little gallery. Don't ruin it on my account." Without letting go of Amy's hand, he turned to look at her, his features clouded with a deep wound of pain. But then his expression softened. His eyes moved down to her lips, but then he turned away.
Amy sensed the uneasiness and moved off toward the kitchen. "Would you like something to drink? I have some Dr. Pepper and a couple bottles of mineral water."
"What? No beer? What kind of bar are you running here?" he laughed.
"You know, my mother wouldn't have allowed for that sort of thing. I suppose it's still a habit. You know what she thought of alcoholic beverages."
"The scourge of the natives," Jacob shook his head. "I can see her now, dumping out the punch at one of our dances. How did you ever get to grow up? I bet she watched you like a hawk."
"Of course she did. She was a single woman just trying to make the best of a hard life, but your father seemed to like her well enough," Amy replied as she thought back to that evening when she had caught the two of them holding hands. Jacob's father Billy had quite a sweet spot for her mother, but that was so long ago. They were both gone now.
"Amy," Jacob said. "Tell me about Edward. Did you have any idea? I mean … did you know he could kill like that?"
"No. Don't be absurd. All I knew before that night was that he was … well, that he was an excellent teacher. We both seemed to have so much in common. I really thought …" Amy's voice trailed off as she tilted her head away. "Well, that doesn't matter anymore."
Moving into the living room, Jacob dropped his tall, lean frame onto the couch and stretched out, his feet perching comfortably on the footstool. "Yes it does. You can't change the past. If you forget what happened, then, well, he'll disappear too. It's only our memories that keep them alive."
"I don't know. Maybe we should look forward and forget the past. You said it yourself. We've been acting like zombies."
"Yes, but if we can learn to accept it …" The last part of his statement came out in a heavy utterance, his eyes slamming shut in pain. Then he turned to her and opened his large, dark eyes. They were glistening slightly with a bit of added moisture.
"Please, come sit next to me," he said and patted the cushion beside him.
Tentatively, like a small bird perching on the limb of a tree, Amy sat down beside Jake on the soft, leather couch. Handing him a can of pop, she let her mind drift back. It had all started with the death of the fisherman followed by the serial murders in Seattle. The crimes had all seemed so far away that is until the killings moved to Port Angeles. It was at that time that she began to feel frightened. But it wasn't until Edward left on the night before her performance that her world began to crumble.
"What happened to Edward? Did you ever find out? I always wondered. Why did he disappear?" Jacob asked. "And then, why did he return at that exact moment when all hell—"
"Don't … I don't want to talk about it."
"Yes, you do. Tell me," Jake urged. "And I'll tell you what happened to me that day."
"Oh, Jake," Amy replied. With a shudder she wrapped her arms around herself, feeling a cold presence fill the room.
Seeing her shiver, Jacob reached out and placed his large hand on her shoulder. With a slight tug, he pulled her against him. Delicately, like a weaver, he threaded his long fingers into her dark brown hair, the thick, straight tresses tumbling onto his chest.
"Why don't you start at the beginning?" he asked, his voice tenderly coaxing her to start.
Taking a deep breath, Amy closed her eyes and forced herself to remember.
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June 2009 Present
He knew there was only one thing that could possibly help her now. With his talent for speed, he leapt away and out of the room. It would be torture to leave her side now, but there was no other way.
"Edward, where are you going?"
There was no reply to Carlisle's question, but soon a soft, delicate melody arose from the drawing room beyond. The notes floated out of the grand piano in a river of beauty, as soft as a baby's breath and as welcome as a warm breeze on a June evening. Emotion and passion possessed his hands and fingers as never before. The music had to be perfect. There was a purpose – no, an impossible mission ahead. The treasured waltz had to reach out and comfort his beloved. The melody must pull her forward and guide her into this new life of death – this rebirth into hell.
As he played, Edward Cullen could think only of her. He asked himself the same two questions over and over in his troubled mind. The uncertainty had haunted him for almost seven years. Would she remember him? And more importantly, would she ever forgive him?
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