My ankle started to throb the moment I got out of my car at the motel. The pain took me by surprise -- I'd been too absorbed in my thoughts on the drive back to notice any discomfort. It hurt pretty bad, but not enough to keep me from laughing at myself as I limped my way through the motel corridors. Only I could fake an injury in one hour, only to actually sustain the exact same injury in the next. It was very Bella.
I braced myself just outside the door to my suite. There was no telling what would be waiting for me on the other side. If Bryant had returned before me… Well, in the best of circumstances, I would have a lot of explaining to do. I didn't want to envision the worst of circumstances. The thought alone made me reconsider entering the room at all.
But, unfortunately, I could not stand out in the hallway all night. Not with a swollen ankle and a foot that was slowly turning purple as the strap of my shoe grew tighter. And especially not when I felt extremely close to shattering into a nervous breakdown. I cursed myself for not bringing a change of clothes, at the very least. Maybe something I might have actually worn for a trip to the hospital. That might have been helpful.
It was a huge relief when I entered into an empty suite. The door leading to Bryant's room was still standing open and my note rested untouched exactly where I'd left it. I shut both doors to my room and trashed the note before changing out of my dress as quickly as I could. I stashed it away at the back of my closet until I could get it washed and returned. Then I took a shower and pulled on my far more comfortable sweats and tee shirt.
Back in the main room, I turned off all of the lights and spun the dial on the heater up as far as it would go. I was cold, both inside and out. The evenings events had left me feeling empty, completely drained of energy. It was amazing how little physical exertion it took, when matched with extreme emotional and mental strain, to wear a person down.
I considered going straight to sleep – my mind needed the release of unconsciousness desperately – but I dutifully took my cell phone along as I climbed into bed. It would be easier to return Cassie's call now than to listen to her complain about me ignoring her later.
I highlighted Cassie's name and clicked send, then held the phone between my shoulder and ear in order to stack all the pillows behind me and create a soft backrest. Cassie answered on the second ring and I settled into the pillows, getting comfortable.
"Hey, Bella!"
I smiled; after an evening of unexpected events, a familiar, friendly voice could work wonders.
"Hey, Cass. What's going on?"
There were sounds in the background that sounded like shouting, and a squealing that could have been car tires or an electric guitar – or anything in between. There was too much combined noise for me to make any sense out of it.
"I'm with Kim at Daytona Beach. There's a really good local band playing tonight; you would have liked them."
I sighed. What a relief it would have been, to be spending the evening on the beach with my friends. Instead I was here, coping with pieces of my life that were supposed to be long ago removed.
Cassie continued, not picking up on my hesitation. "So are you enjoying your vacation? Nathan said you hurt yourself already…" She trailed off into a giggle.
"Yeah, I twisted my ankle pretty badly." At least it was true this time. One less lie in a week that would surely turn into a web of them.
"You really should be more careful," she chided, and then she laughed. "There; Nathan told me to tell you that, and now I have. I'm just not silly enough to believe it'll do any good. Nathan likes to fool himself into thinking he's going to make a difference, and who am I to tell him otherwise?"
I could barely hear what she was saying – there was too much commotion on her end. I didn't feel like struggling to have a conversation, nor did I even really feel like talking. Returning Cassie's call had been out of obligation more than anything else; she probably would have made me feel guilty for it if I hadn't.
Kim's high-pitched scream filled the line, causing me to jerk the phone back from my ear in pain. She shouted something that sounded like a proposition to a band member on stage and Cassie snickered. There were a few seconds of confusing static and then Cassie's voice again, this time speaking away from the phone.
"He can't hear you, we have to get closer!"
An image of the two of them elbowing their way through a crowded amphitheater sprung to my mind and I grinned in spite of myself. I had never understood why Cassie liked going out with me as much as she did Lorie and Kim; the other two were far more daring and always ended up getting into some sort of wild fun. And when you put the two of them together on the same outing… Well, let's just say that I opted out of those trips. Call me prudish or dull if you will, but there was only so much excitement I could take.
"And the human succubus strikes again," Cassie joked, talking to me again.
"I don't believe she's all the way human," I said, contributing to her teasing. Then I inhaled, long and deep, before exhaling audibly and sighing a bit at the end. "Ugh, I'm worn out. It's been a long day."
"Oh, I'm sorry, Bells! I'll let you go; you humans need your sleep. You should eat something, too. I know Bryant won't think to remind you, he doesn't pay attention to much other than himself."
"Thanks, Cassie. I'll talk to you soon, okay? Have fun."
"We will. Goodnight, Bells."
I sighed and slid my phone onto the night table. Then I rolled to face the wall, curling up underneath the covers. It was eerily quiet; I was used to falling asleep to the sounds of the city: traffic, sirens, and loud, hideous music from the apartment below mine. Some nights were worse than others and I would have to put on my heaviest boots and jump up and down on my living room floor before the noise called music was turned down to an acceptable level.
I never thought it would happen, but I missed the obnoxious music. It was too quiet for a mind that was used to distraction at night. Without it, my thoughts dragged me several miles down the road, where Mario and the Cullen's were probably still enjoying the party.
For the first time in years, I let my imagination conjure up an image of Edward. It came without any effort at all, which made me wonder if that was because I'd just seen him, or if my mind had always been ready to recall him the moment I decided to allow it.
It was almost funny that I had feared thinking about him for so long. It was harmless now; a few devoted thoughts were nothing at all when compared to an hour spent in his company. All of that effort, all of the self-discipline I was forced to gain… It was all for nothing. Sure, it might have saved my sanity at the time; but what use was that now?
Quite unintentionally, I'd set myself up for an emotional rollercoaster.
But how was I supposed to know he would break his promise? To my knowledge, Edward had never lied to me. What reason did I have not to believe him when he promised not to interfere with my life again? It had hurt – would always hurt on some level – but I had come to accept it. After all, I'd known from the very beginning that Edward's affection for me was too good to be true. It was inevitable that he would grow bored eventually. In those first months after he'd left, I only wished that eventually had held off awhile longer.
And then, in time, I no longer allowed myself to wish at all.
Tonight had been a cocktail of my deepest wishes and my greatest fears. And boy, had it been bitter.
Mario… I didn't even know what to think about him. What were the motives that had him conspiring with near strangers to the point of interfering with my life? He knew I was satisfied with the role I played in Nathan's company. He knew that I was comfortable, that I had friends, and that I was reasonably safe. The Mario that I'd come to know in Florida wouldn't have decided to uproot me from my decent existence for no reason. He, like all of my friends, understood that I disliked speaking about my past. He'd understood that it caused me pain, though I'd never revealed to him – or anyone but Lorie – the nature of that pain.
What could he have seen, or heard, that would convince him to act as he had?
It was a mystery that would have to remain unanswered – for the time being, at least. I had no way of contacting him, and even if I had, I probably wouldn't have bothered. It was too soon after the shock; I would be as likely to scream obscenities at him as I would be to have a civil conversation.
One thing was for certain: I would see to it that Mario would regret stringing me along like a puppet. The resolution put a smile on my face and sent my thoughts in a more bearable direction. Finally, I managed to find sleep among the vicious varieties of revenge I was conjuring up.
I was woken by the phone. Not my cell phone, but the motel rooms land line. Groggy and confused, I rolled over and picked it up.
"Hello?" My voice was rough with sleep. I yawned.
Bryant's voice greeted me. "Good morning, Bella. I thought you'd like to know that your cell phone has been ringing on and off for an hour now."
That woke me up. I forced myself up on one elbow and glanced around the room. A think streak of daylight shone on the wall beside me, seeping from a gap in the hastily pulled curtains. The alarm clock, which I hadn't bothered with setting the night before, read 10:51.
"Dang it, Bryant! Why didn't you get me up earlier?" I tossed the covers back and sat up before grabbing my phone off the table.
"Nathan told me to let you rest."
I rolled my eyes and then scrolled through my missed calls, frowning when I didn't recognize a single number. There were three, and only one was from a Port Angeles area code. That was a little confusing. How many people had my phone number been passed to, and by whom? It was too bad my ring tone wasn't louder, more insistent; had it woken me, I wouldn't have had to deal with the frustration of not knowing. And I would have to stay frustrated until whoever was trying to contact me decided to try again. Returning the calls was out of the question – even from the other room, Bryant would still likely be able to hear the entire conversation, both my side and the other.
"Bella?" Bryant's voice startled me; I'd nearly forgotten I was on the phone with him.
"Give me a few minutes to get dressed, and I'll let you in." I climbed out of bed and winced – my ankle was still tender.
It wasn't broken, of that I was sure – I'd had my fair share of broken bones, which made it easy to diagnose any new injuries. It was slightly discolored and puffy where my foot met my leg… and it gave me an idea.
I gasped dramatically and whimpered in pain. "Crap, my ankle got worse overnight. It's going to take me awhile to get ready, Bryant. I can barely walk. You wouldn't go upstairs and get some ice for me, would you?"
The ice machine was on the third floor; I remembered thinking how inconvenient it was when the woman at the front desk checked us in. Now it seemed exactly the opposite.
He agreed, but not before chuckling at my expense. After our peculiar talk on the plane, and his comments the other night regarding the customers at the bar, I was beginning to think that Bryant had a very twisted sense of humor.
I waited until I heard the door to his room open and close, and then sat back down with my phone in hand. I was going to have to be quick – it wouldn't take Bryant long to retrieve my ice. Choosing one of the numbers at random, I dialed and eagerly cradled the phone to my ear. It felt good to be solving one mystery.
"Mario Greene's office, how may I help you?" The woman sounded bored, droning the words like they were all she ever said. She also sounded human, which took me by surprise, what with the name that she announced. In retrospect, it did make sense; Mario could live as normal a life here in rainy Washington as the Cullen's had.
"Yes, can I speak with Mario?" I asked, barely putting any volume into my voice. It was a good thing I hadn't tried calling while Bryant was around; I only prayed that he wasn't still within hearing distance.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Greene has stepped out of his office. Can I take a message?"
Well, I hadn't been expecting that. "Umm… no, thanks."
I closed the phone and opened it back as fast as my human hands would let me. I bit my lip nervously as the next number rang once, twice, three times… Bryant wouldn't be gone much longer.
Mario answered on the forth ring. He didn't bother with any pleasantries. "Are you alone?" he asked.
"I am," I allowed, just above a whisper. Glancing uneasily at the door to my room, I continued, "Not for long, though."
"We need to talk."
I rolled my eyes. "So talk. But make it fast."
There was a short pause Mario's end, and then, "Can you get away?"
Exasperated, I very nearly growled. "I don't know. Maybe, maybe not." I looked down at my ankle pensively. If I ran the whole foot under hot water for a minute or two, it would look and feel feverish enough to validate another trip to the doctor. But would Bryant insist on driving me? I didn't know.
"Try, and call me if you're successful. In the meantime, I need you to be wary of Bryant."
What did that mean?
Mario continued quickly, as if he could sense my bewilderment. "It's possible – not probable, just possible – that he's on to us. He turned up last night and spoke with Mr. Hayes and the other company executives. I don't believe he noticed me; I left shortly after he arrived. However, we think that he may have gotten a glimpse of Alice."
I gripped the phone just a bit tighter than necessary. The edges dug into the skin of my palm, but I hardly noticed.
This was not good at all. Bryant was not stupid. He'd lived long enough to be able to distinguish coincidence from something that was more. But he wouldn't automatically assume that I had anything to do with a strange vampire being in town. Nor should he be alerted to Mario's involvement. All the same, I was glad for the warning.
I thanked Mario and promised to call him when I got the chance. Then I hobbled to the dresser and threw on some clothes. There was a knock on the door just as I was pulling a shirt over my head. Tucking my phone into the back pocket of my jeans, I went to open it.
Bryant stood on the other side with a little plastic bucket filled to the brim with ice cubes. He greeted me with a slight nod and a curious expression.
"Thanks," I took the bucket from him.
He just grinned widely, kind of like he was attempting not laugh. I frowned and glanced down – making sure I was fully dressed. My outfit may have been a bit disheveled, and it was entirely possible that it did not match, but it was clearly there.
I met Bryant's amused eyes with a determined glare. "What?" I demanded.
I felt something cold ruffle through my hair before I'd even realized that his hand had moved. I jumped in surprise and his grin broadened.
His hand dropped after another second. I just barely stifled my sigh of relief. "Did you make it stand up like that on purpose?" he asked, laughter resonating in his voice.
Oh – this was about my hair. I probably should have paused to look in a mirror before opening the door; whenever I had a restless night, I usually woke with strands sticking out in all different directions. It was a result of tossing and turning for hours on end.
Heat pool into my cheeks. "Um, no." Self-conscious now, I opened my mouth just wide enough to speak. It wouldn't help for him to pick up on my morning breath next.
Rather than sticking around to have the rest of my human flaws spotlighted, I turned and shuffled towards the bathroom. Bryant would get the picture and let himself in while I made myself presentable. Ten minutes later, with fresh breath and a much improved appearance, I grabbed my ice bucket off the bathroom counter and reentered the main room. Bryant was sitting casually on the couch; his contact-covered eyes followed my ever clumsy move. I sat on the bed and used a pillow to elevate my swollen ankle. Conveniently enough, the bucket of ice was lined with a thin plastic bag, which I could life out and situate on my leg. The sudden coldness on my heated skin made me shudder in discomfort.
"So, who was calling you this morning?" His voice was indifferent, like he was just making conversation to break the silence.
I went with the first lie that popped into my mind. "My mother." It seemed like it should have been true – why hadn't she called me? Surely she would be as insistent today about me talking to Charlie as she was yesterday. I wondered if they'd already spoken, and they were both too frustrated with me to bother getting in touch.
Bryant nodded like I had confirmed his assumption. "You were supposed to call your father yesterday," he said. "Did you?"
I shook my head – there was no point in lying about that one. I was going to have to call Charlie, and Bryant would more than likely be around to hear the conversation play out.
"Why not?"
When had he gotten so talkative? In all the time I'd known him, he'd never shown an interest in speaking to me, let alone drilling me with questions. Until this trip, that is.
I busied myself with rearranging the ice on my leg while I considered how much of the truth I should reveal. "If I call him, he'll want me to visit. And I'd rather not. I'm not really up for a long distance drive, if you haven't noticed." I lifted the bag off my skin and gestured towards the baseball that was my swollen ankle. It was as much for my sake as it was for the sake of my point – the ice was absolutely burning the skin off of my foot. "Besides, we have stuff to take care of here. We came for a reason, not to go tramping about Washington like we have nothing better to do."
Bryant was silent for what felt like several minutes. I absentmindedly fidgeted with the ice, letting it rest on my leg for a few seconds before lifting it again. The subject seemed to be set aside for the time being, and I decided to turn the conversation away from me.
"What did you do last night, anyway? You could have gone to the party without me and scored us some brownie points."
"I stopped by," he said offhandedly. "It was rather dulling down by the time I arrived. There was one man, a Mr. Roberts, who requested that I wish you a speedy recovery. He seemed sincerely concerned about your welfare." There was a smirk in his voice when he said that last sentence.
I looked up at him, slightly worried. "You were nice to them, right?"
He laughed. "I was civil, yes. I believe Nathan goes about this business in the wrong way, but I have no desire to challenge him."
I was about to ask what else he and the CEOs spoke about, but my cell phone chose that moment to light up and start playing the familiar cadence of my ring tone. Glancing down at it, I tried not to let any apprehension show on my face. Inside my mind, I was absolutely freaking out at the possibility of Mario – or any of the Cullen's – calling while Bryant was around. The unfamiliar number on the LCD screen had a Port Angeles area code.
Hesitantly, but attempting not to appear so, I answered it.
I had nothing to worry about, as it turned out. It was Mr. Hayes, calling to talk about the meeting he'd attended earlier that morning. When he said he'd tried calling me once already, I played it off and said I hadn't noticed the number in my phone. I could feel Bryant watching me, but I kept my eyes glued to the ice bag on my leg.
Mr. Hayes assured me that his stockholders were very interested at the possible change in ownership. He wanted to have a more formal meeting with me, where we could sit down and discuss details, primarily the sort of numbers Nathan had in mind. For this meeting, he said, the company president would be in attendance.
I agreed with enthusiasm – this was the sort of conference that would usually conclude Nathan's deals. We'd talk money for who knows how long, and then the president would deliberate with his employees in another room, leaving me to myself. And then we'd reach the point where all the paperwork came into play.
It was an incredibly dull, incredibly drawn-out process.
As Mr. Hayes chattered on about his shareholders reactions, I lifted the ice off my stinging ankle once more. The skin underneath was beet red and still puffed to nearly twice its normal size. I scowled at it – how was I supposed to walk into their meeting without looking ridiculous? It didn't hurt so badly anymore, but it was weak to the point that I'd probably be better off hopping on one foot than hobbling on both.
At that point, I realized that my injury could save me again, and not by my previously considered trip to the doctor.
I had to suppress a pleased smile while I took note of the time and place of the meeting. We were to meet at five o'clock that evening in their company conference room. The only factor not helping my cause was that their building was only a mile from where we were staying. My ankle excuse would still hold firm – I hoped – but it meant that Bryant could be back at the motel within minutes of the meetings conclusion. This bothered me, but not enough to alter the plan I'd already established.
The conversation drew to a close, and I assured Mr. Hayed that either myself or my associate would be present at conference. His hesitation was clear, as he stuttered a bit before accepting my statement. From there, I hurried along with the necessary pleasantries – 'have a good day' and all that nonsense – and got off the phone.
Bryant didn't wait two seconds to start in on me. "You can't be serious," he said, his voice disbelieving.
I glanced at him with the most innocent expression I could manage without going over the top. "What?" I asked, ignoring his skeptical glare. "Are you going to get me some crutches so I can get around without looking like an idiot? I'm not going to a meeting when I can't even walk right."
Bryant shook his head incredulously. "Bella, I've seen you walking around with a cast on your leg. Since when do you let an injury slow you down?"
Oh, yeah. I'd forgotten about that. Just before I met Nathan – the first nonhuman conquest Lorie had ever brought home with her – I'd broken a small bone in one of my calves. It was the result of a dance lesson with my roommate, which had ended with lots of blood and a trip to the ER. Needless to say, Lorie had never offered to teach me any more dance moves.
But it was well on its way to healing when I met Nathan, and I pointed that out diligently.
"Plus this is my ankle, not my leg. The part I had a cast on didn't have to bend every time I took a step." I made the point like it was the most logical thing in the world. He was a vampire, after all; what could he really know about the extent of my pain?
"You're going to stay here while I go by myself?" Bryant still didn't look convinced. He leaned forward, as if moving to get up, and I didn't even blink when he suddenly appeared by my side. "It doesn't look that bad," he muttered, extending one pale hand to touch my inflamed skin.
"It still hurts," I grumbled back, flinching when he his fingers touched me, even though the area was too numb to feel it.
He sighed and stood up straight. "Aside from that first meeting, you're proving to be quite useless, do you know that?" There wasn't even the hint of a joke in his voice.
I stared up at him, shocked. "Thanks so much, Bryant. I'm sorry we all can't be eternally healthy and fit. Human fragility is a bitch."
That got a chuckle out of him. "You're probably better off staying here anyway," he said, smirking down at me. "There'll be a lot of sharp objects out when they sign the paperwork. Ink pens and letter openers, which are just as hazardous as machine guns to you, I'm sure."
"Hah hah," I laughed dryly. "Let's just hope no one there is as clumsy as you think I am." I swallowed hard as I imagined someone cutting themselves and Bryant leaping across the table, drawn to the scent of their running blood. "But you're not thirsty yet," I added, more to comfort myself than anything else.
"Not at all," he agreed, his grin stretching wider. "Last night was very satisfying."
I felt my eyes grow wide as I registered his comment. Before I could even decide how to respond, though, he was standing at the door that led to his suite. He opened the door and paused to sneer back at me.
"Nathan said you had to eat often. Can you manage to call for something, or will I have to do that for you, too?"
I really suck at chapter endings, lol, sorry. Thanks to everyone who made it this far! Hopefully I'm not boring you to death. You could review and let me know... Edward will be in the next chapter, I promise. :)
