Chapter Nine
"Hunting"

We hadn't yet told Bella that a group of us were leaving for the weekend, which is why I now find myself outside my/her room exactly 5 minutes and 33 seconds before we were meant to set off. We thought she would perhaps worry about it otherwise, and that certainly wasn't good for her. None of us wanted to be the spokesperson; even my father wormed his way out of it. Of course, because she seems most comfortable with me for some godforsaken reason, I was the one who had to deliver the news.

Knock knock.

"Come in," she said quietly.

Immediately, the tone of her voice sent a wave of concern crashing through my body. What valid reason did I have to become so overwhelmingly worried about this human girl? I had to assume that it was partially because I knew no one else was around to care for her at the moment. Her vulnerability made me instinctively want to protect her.

I was in the room before two seconds had passed. Due to my extreme overreaction, I didn't even consider the right force to open the fragile door with. So, the handle ended up detached from it. I examined it closely, noting that I had unknowingly dented the metal with my fingers. If that wasn't a warning sign that I should never touch Bella, or any human for that matter... I don't know what will be.

She looked at me and I looked back at her, straight into her wide brown eyes.

Everything about her in that moment gave her away. Her breathing was quick, her heart was racing, her eyes were bloodshot, her face was a little red... she had been crying.

And, my god, it was a sad sight.

Her anguish was my first problem, one I wasn't sure I could solve. The second problem was that I was now holding a detached door handle in my right hand. At least the latter of the two was fixable.

"I've been meaning to fix that," I mumbled, shocked by the raw emotion in my tone. It sounded way too intense for such a simple statement, but I certainly wasn't expecting her tears to affect me like that; to make me feel so powerless.

I set the handle on my desk, finding it difficult not to notice that Bella's scent was now all over everything I owned. I wouldn't have minded, if it weren't for the fact that my throat was on fire. Why did it have to be her? Why did it have to be this girl who threatened to single-handedly destroy everything I'd constructed in this pathetic life of mine?

"I haven't touched anything," she told me, a promise of sorts.

This confused me. I couldn't understand why she felt the need to tell me that, as if I would be angry with her for going near my things. Nothing in this room, aside from her, was worth anything at all. She could have it all, if she wished. There was a wall of books on one side that were just waiting for her to explore, and shelves of CDs that were ready to be listened to. I wanted her to know that she was welcome to anything and everything in here.

"You can help yourself to anything, Bella."

Except my feelings, I thought wryly, trying to suffocate my concern.

"I feel like I'm putting you out—"

"Don't worry about me," I interrupted her softly, shaking my head. "Are you alright?"

I studied her face once more, not caring if she thought I was being strange. It was less red now and her eyes were less bloodshot. The corners of her mouth were turned down, sign-posting her sorrow. She looked as though she was holding back tears. It was understandable. She hadn't once cried since she'd arrived here. In fact, she'd been undeniably brave through it all. We should have been prepared for this; we shouldn't have left her alone for so long today.

"I'm fine," she assured me, offering a smile.

To a human, perhaps it would have looked genuine.

"No, you're not," I said, moving to stand by her bed.

She followed me with her watery eyes, an indication that she was anxious. I wondered whether or not she could sense subconsciously that she shouldn't be near me; that it was dangerous for her to be near me. Or, perhaps she was simply wary after everything unknown to us that had happened to her. If I were in her position, I would find it rather difficult to trust anyone.

"You look like you're going to say something important," she commented, sniffling.

I laughed, though I wasn't amused. I was surprised by her accuracy.

"I've actually come to say goodbye," I explained, shrugging lightly. I figured if she could note my nonchalance, she may not regard my departure as a big deal.

I could see the reluctance in her eyes, that little bit of panic.

Again, I had to remind myself not to revel in the fact that someone wanted me to stay close to them. Her attachment to me was simply there because I'd helped her when no one else did. She was putting her faith in me, something no human should ever do. I was her security blanket, like Carlisle said.

"Goodbye?" she repeated, gnawing on her bottom lip.

"Not goodbye," I said, backtracking when I realised I'd just given her the impression of a permanent leave. This would frighten her; being left with people she didn't yet trust as much as she trusted me. "I'll see you on Sunday."

"Why?" she demanded, a crease forming between her eyes.

"My father, my brothers and I go camping often," I lied easily. "We all love the outdoors. The girls go themselves sometimes, or we all go together."

She nodded, though I could tell she wasn't done asking questions quite yet.

"Where are you camping?"

"Goat Rocks Wilderness," I replied, working to keep my tone casual, and hoping she hadn't heard of it.

"I've heard of that," she said, that little crease deepening. "Is that safe? I m-mean, not that it's any of my business..." She sighed, shaking her head. "Aren't there lots of bears?"

She was intelligent, that much was becoming clear.

We would have to be extremely careful around her.

"There are," I told her, nodding. "We'll be safe, though. We know what we're doing."

I knew there was nothing I could say to reassure her. The only thing that would calm her was when we returned home on Sunday. It warmed my cold heart a little that she truly worried about the lives of four strangers enough to ask about our safety in a place she knew was dangerous. Little did she know, other creatures were no match for us.

"Well, before you go," she said, looking down at her clasped hands nervously. "Could you please grab a book for me?"

The question made me smile. I was learning about her character, slowly and surely. It was unusual for me to feel as though I was talking to a complete stranger. Usually I got to know someone pretty well based on their thoughts. But she was different. And as much as I hated to admit it, it was kind of refreshing to have to learn about a person the way a human would.

"Which one?" I asked enthusiastically, trying to monitor my speed as I walked over to the bookcase.

Dude, hurry up! Emmett thought impatiently from the living room.

I tried to block out his voice.

I'll leave the morphine drip in until we're home again, then I'll try to move her onto pills before... Carlisle mused as he grabbed the keys for Emmett's jeep.

We were taking a car, something we'd never done on a hunting trip, with every intention of ditching it at the other end of the driveway. It was simply to keep on the safe side of things. If Bella felt well enough to move, we didn't want her wondering why all the cars were still here—especially now that she had a view of the front of the house in my room.

"You choose," she said, cocking her head to the side like a Border Collie.

A challenge?

I scanned the shelves quickly, already knowing what I was going to give her. There were endless options for a fan of the classics but I was around 99.6% sure she would be pleased with my decision.

"You seem like a Wuthering Heights kind of girl," I guessed, holding up the book hopefully.

She looked comically surprised.

"How did you know that?" she asked, an unexpected smile gracing her lips. "I wish I was exaggerating when I say I've read that at least 40 times. It has to be my all time favourite book."

Her happiness was contagious, in this moment at least. She was crying just minutes ago but me choosing her favourite book had cheered her up. I was relieved by this. I'd managed to make her smile before going. Something about leaving her looking so sorrowful just didn't sit well with me.

I held the book out to her silently, not wanting to get too close. I was always cautious whenever I neared her, for fear that a sudden movement would result in my accidental loss of control—something neither of us could afford to happen. She took it hesitantly, her hand shaking violently. So weak. The IV needle tugged her back and she flinched. I could tell by the way her face scrunched up a little that it had hurt.

"I think Carlisle is going to take that out on Sunday," I assured her.

"Good," she said quietly, clearing her throat.

Her body heat had warmed me slightly, and I found myself surprisingly reluctant to leave the room. I wasn't completely alright with the severe protectiveness I felt towards her, it was so irrational. It wasn't until the second I had to leave that I realised Emmett was right when he said I'd be worrying about her. I certainly would be, and I had no idea why.

"See you," I said, almost propelling myself from the room.