All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc are the intellectual property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended.
Chapter 4
"I still can't believe you are going to so much trouble for a complete stranger," Bella told Jake, as he helped her into the rather beat up looking van pulled up near the door of the house. "Especially a stranger bringing so much trouble with her."
He positioned pillows behind her back and made sure she was as comfortable as possible for the hour or so ride into Atlanta, and then he patted her hand.
"I don't want to hear any more of that kind of talk," he told her firmly. "You just relax and quit worrying." He made sure her orange juice was within easy reach, along with the book she had picked out. "It's too bad you won't be able to see much of the drive up, there's some real nice scenery between here and the city. But, you'll see it on the way back."
Edward finished loading their scant luggage and climbed into the drivers seat without so much as a glance in her direction. She could see his green eyes in the rear view mirror and the tight line of his well-shaped mouth as he backed up the driveway toward the road. She feared it would be a long, silent, uneasy trip. She should have realized that with Jake around there would seldom be silence, and if he felt the tension he was not letting it show. He soon had her chuckling at the goings on in Jackson, a typical, small southern town. She felt she could pick out most of his neighbors on the street from his description of them. He had lived in South Georgia for many years and he knew much of the colorful history of his adopted home.
She could feel the pride and sense of belonging in his voice as he described the growth and change that had taken place in the South over the years. He understood and respected the best of the Southern way of life, without condoning the dark passages of its history. He made Bella feel the need for a home and history of her own. She felt no such connection to Miami, although she had called it home for several years, and she had no family history because she had no real family, other than Phil, and she wasn't sure what his true relationship to her had been. She forcefully wrenched her mind from the last situation she had been forced into, and the awful barter that had changed and shaped her life.
Before she knew it they were approaching the outskirts of Metro Atlanta. "Where do you want to stay, Jake?" Edward asked, breaking his silence for the first time since leaving Jackson.
"It don't matter to me. You can pick someplace. Don't get to close to the airport though. I can't sleep with them jets roarin' over head every two minutes."
"Why don't we go on up north to Roswell or Alpharetta," Edward suggested. "I don't get up there very often and I doubt we'll run into anyone I know."
"That suits me just fine."
From her concealment in the back of the van Bella couldn't see very much, but she could see in the distance the city of Atlanta proper outlined against a clean blue sky dotted with cotton ball clouds.
"If you don't quit followin' so close you're gonna run up on somebody," Jake said. Edward did not respond.
"You know the speed limit's only 55 through here," Jake pointed out. Edward continued to ignore him.
"You got to get off on the exit for 400 on up here," Jake reminded.
"I know that!" Edward said finally, testily.
"Then why aren't you over in the right lane?"
"Do you want to drive?" Edward asked, glaring at the older man.
"You know my nerves can't take driving on the interstate."
"Well, my nerves can't take your back seat driving!"
"You're awful touchy about a little advice," Jake observed, and then subsided, grumbling to himself as Edward dealt with crossing four lanes of traffic to reach their chosen exit.
Bella smiled at their grouching at each other. Their conversation sounded worn and comfortable from use. "I thought we weren't going to run into heavy traffic?" she said, noticing the steady stream of cars that flowed past, some passing them and some being passed by them.
"This isn't heavy, believe me. About 4:30 this becomes one big parking lot," Edward said, glancing back at her in the mirror. Their eyes met and held.
"LOOK OUT!" Jake cried, and Edward's eyes jerked back to the road in front of him and he slammed on his brakes, but not in time to keep from bumping the car in front of them rather forcefully.
Bella was grateful for the seat belt that Jake had secured around her swollen middle. Edward cursed under his breath and he and Jake both turned around to look at her. "Are you all right?" She wasn't sure which one asked first.
"I'm fine," She assured them. Edward maneuvered the van over into the emergency lane behind the car he had hit, and after reaching into the glove box for a packet of papers he got out and went to talk to the other driver.
It hit Bella like a ton of bricks that the police might have to be involved. "Jake," she said, her face gone very white, "are the police going to come and fill out a report?"
"Nah, I don't think so." He reassured her. "They don't unless there's a lot more damage than this, or somebody gets hurt. If they came out to every fender bender that's all they'd ever get done." He gestured toward the car in front of them. "Why, you can't even tell we hit that feller."
They watched as Edward and the other man examined both bumpers carefully. They talked for a few moments and then shook hands.
In a short span of time that seemed like a week to Bella, Edward was back. He carefully checked his mirror before pulling once more into the flow of traffic. His eyes were apologetic as they met hers again, briefly. His face was pale, and a sheen of sweat coated his forehead.
Bella breathed a sigh of relief as they merged into traffic, and then before she could stop them, tears started to flow. She covered her face with her hands and tried to keep silent, but a sob escaped despite her efforts.
Jake was immediately concerned. "Here now, I thought you said you were all right!" he said, turning around to hand her a tissue.
She dabbed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I am. I'm not hurt. It's just...it really hit me hard what the rest of my life is going to be like. I mean, I knew in sort of an abstract way, but being so scared of the police right then brought it home. I will never be able to go out anywhere, never have a minute's peace, because at any moment someone might recognize me." She looked at him, her eyes brimming again. "I can't live like this. I won't live like this, and I won't have you mixed up in the mess I've made of my life."
Her eyes were hard and determined through the tears, and Jake wondered if James Fontana really knew what he was up against. He and Edward exchanged glances. Edward raised his eyebrows but didn't say anything.
The rest of the trip was completed in silence and was blessedly uneventful. By the time they reached North Fulton County, Bella had regained her composure. They chose a Best Western on Holcomb Bridge Road in the heart of Roswell. Bella only had time for a brief glimpse of the town before they hustled her into the room. It was prosperous looking, a clean, pretty place.
"OK," Jake said after the bags had been placed in their respective rooms, "We have a decision to make here. Are we going to go blonde or brunette, and are we going to dye or get a wig?" Edward looked closely at Bella stretched out on her bed, propped against the headboard with her auburn locks spilling over her shoulders.
"I think blonde, and dye." Edward voiced his opinion, unwilling regret at the necessity of the change making his tone harsh. "And, it should be cut short. We need to make her as different as possible, and without worrying about the wind blowing off her wig." He looked at her, expecting her to disagree.
"You can shave me bald if that's what it takes."
Edward decided it didn't matter what she did to alter her appearance he would still find her beautiful. The knowledge did not sit well with him and made his reply sharper than he intended. "Maybe we should."
"I don't think we need to do anything that drastic," Jake said with a quelling look at Edward. "I think dye and some glasses, and I hate to see all that purty hair cut off, but Edward's right. We should cut it. Why don't you go on out and find what we'll need, Edward, and I'll stay here with Bella. Stop and get some Chinese takeout on the way back."
Bella reached into her pocketbook and pulled out a wad of cash. "Here Jake. I'm not letting you spend your hard earned money on me, and before you ask, yes it's legal."
Jake took it and handed it to Edward, daring him with a cocked eyebrow to speak. Edward looked with unconcealed distaste at the handful of bills, unable to prevent himself from speculation as to the method of 'earning' such a large sum.
"I sold a gift," Bella supplied in a voice devoid of expression. Without another word, or a look at either man, she went into the bathroom and closed the door, softly. Somehow, that quiet click echoed louder in Edward's mind than a slam could have.
It was well into evening before Edward got back. He and Jake unloaded the van and Edward offered for Bella's approval each item he had purchased. "I got the most expensive hair coloring I could find," he told her, "I figured that would be the most permanent."
"This is fine." she told him, after studying the directions carefully. "I've never colored my hair so I don't have a clue how to go about it. It doesn't sound too hard, though."
"Should we cut it first?" Jake asked pulling a shiny new pair of scissors out of the shopping bag.
"Probably." Bella replied.
They ate their Chinese takeout and then got to work.
Four hours later Bella stood in front of the mirror. She would not have recognized herself. Her hair was cut very short in the back, almost in a mans cut -which was the only way Jake knew how to cut hair- the front longer, leaving it to curl around her face, framing it, emphasizing her cheek bones and making her eyes appear even larger than before. It was a very natural looking golden blonde, right down to her eyebrows. The color was becoming to her skin tone, and the addition of a pair of dark rimmed glasses would complete the disguise when she ventured out.
"Jake," she said, turning from the mirror to smile at him, "I think you may have missed your calling. I have friends who don't come out of a salon looking this natural."
"It does look good, if I do say so my own self. What do you think, Edward, will anybody who's seen her picture on TV recognize this young lady?"
"Not hardly," he replied. His eyes roamed her face noting how quickly the bruise on her forehead was fading. He had changed the bandage on her cheek after she had dried her hair, and his fingers still tingled with the memory of the softness of her skin. He shrugged away the recollection. He could not afford it. "It's late. I'm going to bed. I left a wake up call for 6:00."
Bella sighed when he was gone. "Is he ever going to stop hating me?" she asked, more pensively than she knew. "It is really uncomfortable to be around someone who dislikes you so much."
Jake shook his head. "Edward's feelin' a lot of things right now, but hate ain't one of them. Not for you anyway. Oh, I admit, he didn't cotton to you bein' around at first, but the more he get's to know you..," he hesitated, as though afraid he had said too much, "well, anyway, he's got a lot on his mind, makes him kinda moody actin' sometimes. There's things went on in his life in the last ten years that he hasn't even told me about, and I'm probably closer to him than anyone else in the world."
"Are you talking about what happened to his leg?"
"Yeah, but that was only part of it. There are wounds that go deeper than that."
"Was he in the military?"
"He was an FBI agent."
For a moment Bella was to stunned to speak. "That explains some things. What happened?" she was compelled to ask, not at all sure she wanted to know.
"Edward doesn't talk much about anything that went on after he left Chicago, which was right after he graduated high school. I don't know too much about it. I do know that he was wounded and came damn near dyin' on some business he was involved in for the government. They tried to get him to come back when he got back on his feet, but I reckon, like I said, that there was more wounded than his leg."
She did not know what to say. "Did he know the man I saw James kill?" She asked, finally.
"It's possible, but he hasn't talked about that either."
Bella lay in bed unable to sleep long after Jake had gone to his room. She found a strange irony in being rescued by an FBI agent. "Ex-FBI agent," she corrected herself. She thought about the other agent she had known, the look in his eyes right before James...well she wasn't going to venture into that territory right now. But she had recognized the same look in Edward's eyes. Tortured, haunted, betrayed. She wondered what had happened to Edward that had scarred him so deeply. She felt certain that it was not rare for agents to be wounded in the line of duty, and somehow she didn't believe that the damage done to Edward's psyche was due to some inherent weakness in his makeup. Something devastating had happened, so devastating that it had been the downfall of someone she knew instinctively would not fall easily, and it was the source of that vulnerability she had sensed in him.
They were up early the next morning. Jake had promised Bella a real treat, breakfast at the Roswell Kitchen, a tiny, disreputable looking place near the historic district. As they pulled into the crowded parking lot, bouncing through potholes, Bella looked askance at her companions, wondering if this was a joke of some kind. The inside was no better. Although it was spotlessly clean, the floor was faded and worn through in places and the tables and chairs had seen better days many years ago.
The place was packed and they had to wait several minutes before a table became available. There was a row of chairs for the convenience of the waiting customers placed along the front wall under the picture window. They were all full, but it took only a moment for a gentleman to give up his seat for Bella. She smiled at him and sat down gratefully, glad not to being standing up in plain view of the whole room. Then she looked up and saw that a number of policemen were seated two tables away from her. She felt panic rising in her chest, and she wanted to bolt.
Suddenly, Edward's arm came around her shoulder as he bent and put his forehead against the side of her face; his breath whispered across her ear sending a tingle down her spine. "Don't get paranoid, they aren't paying you any more attention than they would to anyone as pregnant as you, but they will if you go running out."
She nodded and concentrated on the muscular arm still draped casually across her shoulders. It helped distract her. She was torn between wanting to shrug off his arm and wanting to bury her face against him to hide.
The next few minutes were tense ones for Bella. She felt that everyone was staring at them, and in fact there were many glances in their direction. She soon realized there was no hint of recognition, only friendly interest, and she was able to relax slightly. When they finally got seated and their meal came she realized why the place was so full. The food was some of the best down home southern she had ever eaten.
After the check was paid, Jake went to use the facilities while Bella and Edward made their way back to the van. She groaned softly as she walked -it felt more to her like she waddled. " Are you in pain?" Edward asked, as he helped her across the rutted parking lot.
"I've just got to stop eating so much," she told him, smiling. He smiled back and she felt dazzled, as though a flash bulb had gone off in her eyes. She looked away quickly. "I think I may need a ladder, or a crane, to get in this seat." she told him ruefully. She felt huge and bloated and clumsy and she didn't want him looking at her.
"It's not as bad as all that. You got in the back with no problem."
"Yeah but then I had a crate to stand on, and I hadn't just eaten a weeks worth of groceries."
He laughed. She decided that she would walk on hot coals to hear that laugh. Before she realized what he was about to do he caught her at her waist and behind her knees and lifted her into the van. She gasped. "You'll break your back!"
He deposited her carefully into the seat and helped her get her seat belt situated. "I don't think it's my back I need to worry about," he said, cryptically, before going around to climb in the drivers seat. She followed him with her eyes, wondering what, exactly, he meant. She was still wondering as they left Roswell.