Thanks to Kim for beta-ing and input, and thanks to Becpire and [sad5] for the continuing support and encouragement, you guys are amazing.
I also want to give a shout out to the amazing and talented Emz&Shez and their kickass comics!
You can find them on LJ at emzshezcomics[dot]livejournal[dot]com and Twitter[dot]com/EmzShezComics -- Check them out!!!
Chapter 8 will be coming soon, thanks for reading!
Chapter 7: Touch of Cullen
Edward POV
I was on the road and approaching the edge of town when I realized that in my haste to get out of the house, I'd left without my cigarettes.
Great. That's what I get for storming off like a petulant child. I turned the car around and looped back towards town so I could stop to pick up some more. A few minutes later I was back in the heart of Forks driving down this shitty town's sorry excuse for a downtown area and looking for an empty parking spot. Once I found one, I pulled in and crossed the street to the convenience store.
I had my hand on the door and was about to go in when something caught my eye to my left. You know those people who can predict when change is coming in their life? I'm not one of them. Change has a way of just walking up and punching me in the face. Right there, just down the block from me was none other than Bella fucking Swan. I swear it was like the girl was haunting me, creeping into every crevice of my mind and turning up wherever I looked.
I stood there holding the door handle, and considered my options. Any other day I probably would have just thrown her a nod and a grin and been on my way. Hell, I wouldn't even have been standing there at that moment if Esme hadn't started in about her. Her interrogation had inadvertently led me straight to Bella.
Everything had been so messed up lately. I felt a sense of loyalty to her because of Alice, and I also felt this strange urge to protect and defend her. But it was more than all of that. I was drawn to her in ways I didn't understand.
So there I was, probably looking dumbfounded and like a chump, with one hand still on the door to the store, and my eyes glued on her. She hadn't seen me yet, and I hoped she wouldn't do that damn scowl when she did. But then I saw her face a little more clearly, and I realized that something was off. She still looked as pissed off as always, but there was something else there too – her eyes were puffy and rimmed in red. Drops of moisture lined her cheeks.
She was crying. Bella Swan was crying.
She'd surprised me yet again. And that damn feeling returned. It was protective, irrational.
Before I knew it, my hand was off the door and I was down the sidewalk towards her. She reached into her bag and drew out her keys and then I saw her hideous red truck and realized that she was about to leave.
"Bella, wait up," I called out.
Her hand was quickly at her face, furiously wiping the tears from her eyes. She didn't want me to know that she was crying.
"What's wrong?" I asked. "Are you okay?"
"Hey, Edward. Yeah, I'm fine. I just need to go-"
Her voice cracked and I spoke up before she had a chance to finish her lie.
"Stop lying," I said. "You know, you don't have to act like such a hard-ass all the time."
She let out a half-hearted laugh.
"Seriously, are you alright?" I pressed. "You want to talk?"
"No," she said meekly. Her voice filled with defeat and I wasn't sure if it was an answer to one or both questions.
I didn't know what the hell I was supposed to say or do, so like the jackass I am, I just stood there. But she just stood there, too.
After a moment, she looked up at me, her eyes still damp.
"We had an argument," she said. Her voice was fragile and soft. I didn't know who she was talking about, so I said nothing and just listened. "I was at Charlie's office," she continued, pointing back down the block. I looked up, following her hand, and saw the second floor window that read "Swan Investigations."
"What happened?" I asked.
She stared up at me, and I felt like her eyes were searching me for something, but I didn't know what.
"I want to find my mom," she said, almost in a whisper. "I want him to find her, but he won't."
Her sudden honesty with me was disarming. As I watched a single tear escape and make its way down her cheek, I wanted to reach out to her. I felt compelled to do something, to comfort her in some way, but I felt awkward and self-conscious. I clumsily brushed her hair out of her face and she seemed to tense, so I pulled my hand back.
Feeling this unsure and nervous was entirely foreign to me. I didn't know why she had this effect on me, and again I found myself dying to know what she was thinking. Had I crossed a line? Bella didn't seem to be one to hide her feelings, so if she had a problem with me, surely she'd let me know. My eyes wandered back to her face as I scoured my brain for the right words to say.
"Maybe he can't track her down," I suggested.
"It's what he does. He finds people," she said. "But he hasn't even tried, and he won't tell me why."
"Maybe he has a good reason," I said hesitantly. Her eyes tightened and she looked at me expectantly. "Maybe he knows more about why she left him and-"
"She left me too," she snapped.
"I know," I said quickly. Damn it. Why did everything I say around her come out wrong? "I just meant that he must have his reasons. He probably thinks he's doing what's best for you."
"That shouldn't involve lying to me," she insisted. "You don't get it. Everything has been ripped away from me, and I need something to hold on to. I thought it was him. He was supposed to be my rock, the one thing I could count on no matter what. But now I'm realizing he's just like everyone else. He lies."
"He might've lied to you, but he's still there for you, Bella," I said. "He's the one that stayed. It sounds to me like you might be taking your anger out on the wrong parent."
"We've always been there for each other, but now, when it matters most, he won't help me," she said. "But it's not just that. He still won't tell me the truth."
"What won't he tell you the truth about?" I asked.
"You wouldn't understand," she said coldly, closing herself off again.
"Try me," I said, matching her tone.
"It's complicated," she snapped.
"I'm sure I can keep up," I snapped back.
She stared up at me for a moment and it made me crazy that I had absolutely no clue what she was thinking. When she finally spoke again, I pathetically hung on every word.
"He wants me to stay away from the case, but I won't…I haven't," she replied.
"The case?" I asked.
"Tanya's case," she clarified, annoyed. "He told me to drop it, but he didn't. He's still investigating, but he won't tell me what he knows."
"Maybe he's right," I said. "Why not let the professionals handle it?"
"This case and the investigation define my very existence," she said. "And she was my best friend."
"I'm just saying that maybe he has a point," I explained.
"I think if I knew more about the case and the evidence, - I - I just need to know the truth," she said. "I don't expect you to understand this; I'm sure Carlisle keeps you very sheltered."
"Why do you do that? Why are you always turning things around and taking a shot at me?" I asked, irritated. Couldn't she see that I was trying to help?
"Given my experiences with your family, can you blame me for not trusting you?" she asked snidely.
"I would think you of all people would know what it's like to be judged for your father's reputation and not for yourself," I said. "I know you've been through a lot, but you're not the only one."
She stared at me again, and her silence was infuriatingly frustrating.
"You know, you never say or do what I expect," she finally said.
"Neither do you," I admitted.
"I'm sorry," she sighed. Again, not what I anticipated. But then she followed it up with another accusation. "Your parents are complicit in this. I may not be able to prove it, and I may not know exactly how yet, but I will find out."
"My parents?" I asked. "How do you know you aren't just following your father's misguided attempts down a dead end road?"
"Believe me, I've questioned the validity of his theories, but there are too many questions," she explained. "Why didn't Carlisle call the police right away? Why was Tanya at your house? Why is Esme secretly meeting with Charlie to discuss some case?"
"Esme? What?" I asked.
"Yeah," she said, nodding. "I don't know what it's really about, he says it's not about this case, but I don't know. It just doesn't add up, and he was pretty upset that I found out about it."
Why the hell was Esme meeting with Charlie Swan? That peaked my curiosity, especially after her impassioned rant about how dreadful the Swan's were. What was she hiding? It made me wonder what her phobic-like aversion to me spending time with Bella was really about.
"He was pretty upset when he found out we've been spending time together," she admitted.
"Oh yeah?" I asked. "Same here."
"I can imagine," she said. "I bet they freaked."
"Esme did, and I'm sure Carlisle will soon," I answered.
"I just want answers, you know?" she continued. "Tanya deserved better than this."
"Maybe I can help," I blurted out, unsure how, or even if, I really could.
She stared at me suspiciously.
"How? What are you going to do?" she asked. They were valid questions.
"I have access you could never get," I said. "That's gotta be worth something."
"Yeah," she said, seemingly unconvinced. "Why would you do that? Why would you help me?"
"Because you're right, Tanya deserved better than to end up just some small town scandal," I said. "And maybe I want to know the truth, too."
"I thought you believed the party line that wrapped up the whole thing: Harry Clearwater was a deranged stalker, Charlie Swan was an inept cop, end of story?" she asked.
"Maybe I'm not so sure what I believe anymore," I answered. And I really wasn't.
Though I'd never been one to involve myself in these sort of things, I couldn't deny that things didn't add up. But for some reason her family and mine seemed tangled up in this mess together. I didn't know how to find the truth, or if we ever would. But I decided right then and there I wanted to try. Bella Swan had a way of making me see things differently.
A few moments passed with us just standing there, together, and it was nice.
I wondered if things were changing between us. Some might say she's a bitch, but I say she's complicated. And for someone that gets bored easily, complicated is good.
Her eyes were now dry, but she was still somber. As I watched her, leaned back against her truck, something suddenly caught my eye. On a chain around her neck was a ring. It looked as though she normally kept it tucked under her shirt, but it had made its way out, and the sunlight sparkled off of the ring.
I recognized that ring.
"That was Tanya's," I said.
As I reached out and touched the ring, my fingers grazed against her skin.
"No." She gasped as she pulled away from me.
I instantly regretted my action. It wasn't like I was trying to cop a feel or something, but my touch seemed to upset her, or maybe it was my mention of the ring. In either case, I wished I hadn't done it.
"I mean, it was," she stammered. "She gave it to me."
"Look, I'm sorry," I said. "I didn't mean to upset you or anything."
"It's fine," she said quickly. "I just – I need to go."
"Bella, don't go," I said. "I didn't mean –"
"Really, it's fine," she snapped, as she opened the door to her truck.
It was like she couldn't get out of there fast enough.
She started the engine and looked back at me.
"I'm sorry," she said with a sigh.
I was frozen in place as I watched her drive away.
Why was I always fucking things up?
Bella POV
Why did I always fuck things up?
I felt like I was coming unglued. Nothing made sense, and it was like everything in the world had been flipped upside down. I don't know why I freaked, I just did. Maybe it was his unexpected touch, or maybe it was the reminder of Tanya. But either way, it hit me hard and I knew I needed to get out of there, and away from Edward Cullen. He brought too many vulnerabilities to the surface. As I drove away from him, he looked hurt, his face full of concern.
I kept my windows down as I got on the highway, needing to feel the fresh air slap against my face. With a thousand thoughts rushing through my mind, but not a single one coherent, I just kept driving. Time passed as I drove and drove, thinking of everything and nothing at the same time, and I suddenly realized I'd driven myself to La Push.
Once there, I knew exactly who I wanted to see. As I hopped out of my truck and walked toward his garage, I hoped to find the old version of Jacob that was my trusted friend, and not his snarky replacement. It had been a long time since we'd been really close, but I discovered that now, in my vulnerable state, he was the one person I needed to see. He was my oldest friend. Before Jasper and even Tanya, there was Jacob.
"What's the matter? You need help with another case, Nancy Drew?" Jacob's voice called out from behind me.
I jumped, startled, not expecting him to be right there. I turned towards him, and hoped he was alone. I didn't need harsh and judgmental stares from Leah or Paul or the rest of the guys.
"Hey, Jake," I said softly.
"What do ya need, Bella?" he snapped. Then his eyes met mine, and his face softened, his tone changed. "You okay? What's wrong?"
"Just one of those days, you know?" I said, avoiding eye contact.
"Sure, sure," he said nodding. "Listen, I was just heading back here to do some work on Quil's bike. You can tag along if you want."
I followed him to his garage, grateful that he always seemed to know when to push and when to just be there.
"It's been a long time since you hung out here," he said nonchalantly, as he pulled some tools out of the cabinet.
"Yeah, it has," I agreed. "I used to be here almost every day."
"A million years ago," he said.
"Back when Charlie and Billy and Harry used to get together to watch the games," I added as I hopped up to sit on top of the workbench.
"Remember Harry's fish-fry?" he asked.
"How could I forget?" I laughed.
A rare smile spread across his face as he shook his head at the memory, and I remembered how easy it used to be to be around him. Jacob, like his father Billy, exuded warmth. In truth, I really missed the cookouts and weekend gatherings our families used to have.
"We had some good times…back then," he said. "Hasn't been like that in a long time though."
He looked over at me, and I could tell he was searching my face for answers, wondering what I was doing there.
"What happened to us, Jake?" I asked, breaking the moment of silence. "We used to be friends."
"I'm still your friend, Bella," he replied. "You just…changed."
"Yeah, well, things changed," I snapped defensively. How could I have not changed, given all that happened?
"Nah, I mean before that," he clarified. "You were so willing to give up what you had to try and be like them. But we're not like them Bells, never will be. Might as well be a different species. First chance you got, you turned your back on all of us and joined the other side."
"Jesus, Jake," I said. "Do you have to be so melodramatic? You make it sound like I sided with your sworn enemies."
"Might as well have," he said under his breath, turning away from me.
"It wasn't like that," I said. "They weren't all bad. Tanya and Jasper, they were different. Just like Alice and Edward are different."
"Shoulda known Cullen would've charmed you," he said disapprovingly.
"So that's why you started hating me?" I asked, ignoring the dig at Edward.
"I could never hate you, B," he said, turning back to face me.
"Ha! Well, I guess you just have a funny way of showing your affection," I said.
"Don't turn this around on me," he said. "You're the one that started thinking you were better than us – better than me."
"I'm not better than you," I said.
"I know," he shot back.
"This was a mistake," I groaned as I jumped down from the counter.
"Mistakes run in your family, huh?" he retorted.
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" I asked.
I couldn't believe he just said that to me.
"Oh come on, you know exactly what that means," he continued. "If your pops hadn't screwed up the investigation, the Clearwater family wouldn't have been ripped apart and Harry wouldn't be sitting on death row."
"Charlie didn't screw up anything!" I shouted. "And if you want to blame someone for screwing up the Clearwater family, then blame Harry. He's the one that confessed."
"You can spin it however you want," he said. "It doesn't change the fact that Charlie dropped the ball."
"You're deluded if you really think that," I said.
"Wake up, Bella!" he shouted. "Everyone around here thinks that."
"I didn't come here to fight with you, Jacob," I said, swallowing down all the points I wanted to argue.
"Why did you come here?" he demanded.
"I wanted to talk to you," I admitted.
"About what?" he asked.
"Just forget it," I said, taking a step towards the door.
"Wait," he called out with a sigh. "Come on, you can't just come back here and expect us to be chummy like old times. A lot of shit has happened. But," he paused. "Why did you want to talk to me?"
"Because you're like me," I said. "You think like me."
He let out a surprised laugh. "Oh yeah? And how am I like you?"
"Cynical, untrusting," I replied.
"You say it like it's a bad thing," he said, amused.
He put down the wrench he was holding and wiped the grease from his hands. I looked over at him and wondered if he, or anyone for that matter, could give me the answers I wanted. I paused for a few moments and he waited patiently until I finally spoke.
"Do you ever think maybe things could change?" I asked.
"Things are always changing," he said.
I didn't know how to say what I really wanted to ask him. Jacob was just as guarded as me, so he was the only one that could possibly understand. I'd managed to push people away so effectively that simple human contact felt foreign to me.
The truth was that Edward barely touched me, and it shouldn't have been a big deal, but for some reason it was to me, and that got me thinking. I'd closed myself off so much that I was becoming a zombie, and I suddenly wasn't sure if that was what I wanted.
"I don't know what I'm trying to say," I admitted. "It's just that lately, I've been wondering if things can ever be normal again – if I can ever be normal again."
"I don't recall you ever being normal," he joked.
"You know what I mean," I laughed.
"I do," he said, nodding. "But you know, it's never too late to start over."
"What do I have to lose, right? No friends, no reputation. Sometimes I just wish everything would go back to how it was," I said.
"You gotta stop looking back at the way things were," he said. "It's never gonna be like that again. You also gotta stop glorifying the past. Things weren't perfect back then either, you know?"
"I know that," I said. "And Jake, what you said earlier, I never meant to turn my back on you. It really wasn't like that."
"I know, but it kinda was like that," he insisted.
"Jake-" I started.
"Forget it," he said, holding up his hand. "It doesn't matter anymore. So Cullen's got you questioning yourself, huh?"
"What? No, I-" I stammered. "What makes you think this is about him?"
"Pfft, please," he said. "It's obvious. You practically reek of him. Don't worry about it. You'll figure it out. And by the way, you do have friends Bella, just maybe not the same friends you had a year ago."
"Thanks, Jacob," I said.
"So you gonna tell me what happened with him?" he asked.
"Nope," I said. "But I will tell you that he just offered to help me with the case."
He exhaled loudly and gave me a disappointed look that I didn't really understand.
"There's no happy ending to that story, Bella," he said carefully. "Going over it again and again isn't gonna change the tragedy."
"It won't change it, but maybe I can get some answers that satisfy me," I said.
"Just be careful," he said.
"Always am," I replied. "Thanks for being here. I owe ya one."
"I'm pretty sure you owe me more than one," he said.
"Do I?" I asked jokingly. "That's not how I remember it."
"Sure, sure," he said, grinning as he waved.
"See you around," I said.
I walked back to my truck and pulled out of Jacob and Billy's driveway. I'd only made it a few houses down the street when I realized I didn't actually have any place to go. I definitely didn't want to see Charlie yet, so I couldn't go home or to the office.
Glancing at my phone, I saw I had several missed calls and a few new voicemails. They were from Edward. I played the first message.
"Bella, it's Edward. Listen, I'm really sorry. I'm not sure what happened, but whatever I did, I just want to say I'm sorry. I didn't mean to screw things up. Just, please call me or something, okay?"
I deleted the message and snapped my phone shut. I felt bad that he thought he'd done something wrong, when really I was the one who screwed up. I was too humiliated to talk to him just yet, but I would later. Because, Jacob was right. Things are always changing. We either adapt with them or get left behind. And if there was one thing I was sure of now, I was ready for change.
