Edward's POV
"So, in studying Shakespeare, we must look beyond the simple dialogue presented to us, especially when reading and not seeing. Shakespearean works conform to a higher level of clarity when performed on stage. The story itself may come to life, and it can make more sense to an audience as opposed to someone who has merely read the plays. For that reason, we will begin by reading A Midsummer Night's Dream, and then we will be watching a recording of the play itself. To begin, please open your books to the beginning of Act 1. We begin with the Duke of Athens, Theseus, and his fiancee, Hyppolita as they are discussing their upcoming union..."
This shit is so boring.
Hyppolita? What the hell kinda name is "Hyppolita"? What was Shakespeare smoking? Damn.
My favorite play, and I couldn't care less about studying it right now. I blink as a brief interlude presented by Bella's thoughts enters my mind. I glance over to see her staring, unseeingly, at the text before her. Her hair is pulled back in a loose plait which weaves down the expanse of her back, and a few flighty wisps frame her exquisite face, which is blessing me with every emotion burning inside her. What am I going to do today? Uncle Charlie wants me at the police station to give my statement on James. I don't know how I'm going to do it. And worse, what if James finds out? God, I'll be dead for sure!
I growl at that last thought; the sound no more than a quiet rumbling in my chest. I'll be damned if he ever touches her again. A feeling of being snapped by an elastic knocks my conscious, and the unseen tone of Bella's mind disappears behind the impenetrable vault surrounding her subconscious. Since meeting her, Carlisle and I have spoken extensively about this phenomenon. He makes her out to be a mental shield, and even as a human, she has managed to retain some unconscious control over the barrier between she and I. He desperately wishes to call Eleazer in for a visit to get a better read on her, but I adamantly refuse such an action until Bella knows about us. That, of course, is an entirely different dilemma we have been presented with. It has been three weeks since our visit to her mother's grave and more than a month since the incident which led to Bella becoming a permanent residence in my home, in my bed.
Every day, I wonder about our ability to hide our identities from her. She is entirely too perceptive, especially with her inability to hear. Yet, she never makes statements about noticing anything remiss. We don't eat in front of her. This was a fact she once questioned, but after hearing "I already ate" so many times, she simply stopped asking. She never once shown any distrust or annoyance for our oddities we let slip - Emmett suddenly crying when playing games with Jasper, my answering of unspoken words, Alice pausing mid-sentence when a vision hits unexpectedly. She never questions, and it worries me deeply. More than that, I'm simply worried about her. Recently, her uncle, the Chief of Police, has begun offering contact and setting up various meetings with Bella over the phone. More often than not, the calls are nothing more than Charlie learning about his practically long lost niece. Now, however, the talks have become personal. Charlie has been nearly begging for Bella's statement against her father, and through some thorough means of persuading, I have managed to convince Bella to meet him. I hate her distress, but I know her involvement is imperative for James' permanent detainment.
Permanent detainment is definitely something I am looking forward to. Bella agrees - she's told me so - but her fear of him causes her to question everything where James is concerned. It doesn't help that she has constant nightmares about his abuse, and she wakes every night - sweating, in tears, and holding onto me as if her life depends on it. In a way, I suppose it does. It breaks my heart knowing there is nothing I can do in respect to her own mind. The slip of her thoughts is as close as I come to her glorious subconscious.
I continue to watch her from the corner of my eye throughout the lesson. She rarely shifts or blinks, too lost in whatever thoughts are tumbling through her head. Her emotions, however, flash across her features beautifully. Sadness, fear, determination, hesitation...It is absolutely stunning to see. Unconsciously, I continue taking notes, knowing she will need them later. In her distracted state, the best she's written is the play's title across the top of the college ruled sheet resting forgotten on her desk. Her right hand loosely grips the number 2 pencil. I stare, entranced.
Much too soon, the bell rings, signaling the end of class. I store my stuff before turning to see Bella frowning at the blank sheet in her hand. I chuckle and scoop her back up before dropping it in her bag and flinging the satchel over my shoulder. She lifts a disgruntled brow at me as I wrap my arm around her waist and begin leading her out of the room.
"Don't worry," I say quietly, winking at her. "You can copy my notes later tonight."
She huffs, blowing a strand into her face. She crosses her eyes as she looks at it, and I reach up, moving it away with a brush of my finger tip across her cheek. She glances up at me, and I get caught up in her eyes, deep pools of soulful cinnamon color. After a moment, she blinks and looks forward at the bustling teenagers rushing by on their way to the cafeteria.
"I can't stop thinking," she murmurs. "I'm worried about the meeting after school."
I exhale and flex my arm around her. She dips her shoulder into my side so she can wrap both arms around my waist. "It will be fine, Bella. I'll be with you the whole time."
She shakes her head against me, and I look down to see her lips pursed with a frown, face twisted somberly. "You won't get to be there when it counts." My brow furrows, and she meets my gaze as we push through the door and step out onto the sidewalk. "They're not going to let you in the room when I make the statement, and I'm not sure I'll be able to get through it without you there." Her eyes fall again. "I'm scared, Edward," she whispers.
My eyes squeeze closed for a moment, and I pull us to a stop against a nearby brick wall. I catch Bella's eyes with mine as I maneuver us until her back is against the wall with my arms caging her, hands pressed against the wall on either side of her head. I tilt my head down until the frazzled tips of my wild hair skim her hairline.
"I want you to listen to me," I start, speaking softly. She nods ever so slightly, her enticing scent smothering my senses with each satisfying inhale. "I promised you I would protect you; I promised I would love you. Those are not empty promises, Love. I will put my life on the line for you if I have to. You have no reason to be frightened." I pull a hand back to cradle her fragile, doll-like face. "They will have to arrest me to get me away from your side. We'll explain to your uncle. I'm sure he will understand. But please, Bella, please don't let this take away that light inside of you. Relax. Let me protect you the way I said I would and trust everything will be okay."
She stares at me for a few stretched seconds, eyes flashing with more emotions than I can capture. Then, she slowly lifts up to her toes, pressing her warm, velvet lips to mine. I sigh against her mouth, absolutely melting into the arms of this amazing woman. I bury myself in her very essence and fragility and scent, listening to her heart flutter beneath her chest against mine. I trace my tongue against her full lower lip, and she surrenders beautifully, allowing me entrance. With a swipe of my tongue against hers in that warm cavern, I release a guttural moan from my throat, followed by a sharp growl when her lithe fingers tug at my hair. I fell for a purely innocent and completely oblivious seductress. In return, I grip her hip and tug her forward so we're flush together. Both breathless and panting, I release her delicious lips only to trace light kisses down her jaw and to her neck. Her vein pumps just below the surface, and I risk a gentle lick over the pulsing jugular. She gasps into my ear, a breathy whisper of my name hanging on her tongue.
I grit my teeth at the onslaught of lust pouring through me. Bloodlust was never an issue - though she smells enticingly wonderful. This lust, however, is all for her. Her mind, her scent, her body; everything that is Isabella Marie Swan. And me, the thoroughly seduced vampire overtaken by the innocence of one single human, is utterly swimming in arousal. I can smell it. On me; on her. It permeates the air like a thick blanket.
I drop my forehead to her shoulder and twine my arms around her thin waist, gripping the opposite forearm over the sweet curve of her lower back. I submit to this creature entirely, feeling and listening as her puffing breathe quiets to smooth, relaxed inhalations. Her fingers curl into my hair and scrape over my scalp. Unconsciously, I begin to purr, and my eyes fly open when her hand stills and she freezes within my hold. I tense before quickly loosening my careful hold, afraid I've hurt her.
"Edward," she whispers, leaning away until she catches my eyes. "Are...are you purring?"
I swallow tightly, realizing my mistake. Suddenly, it hits me how important it is for me to accept my fate, accept her, and relinquish the truth of what I am. "I am," I reply calmly, chest rumbling.
Her eyes widen with wonder and she lowers a hand so it is pressed where my silent heart once beat. "That's amazing," she breathes, a smile alighting her features. "You're not human," she murmurs softly.
I blink at the gentle statement. I should have known. With her and her perceptive ways, she could have quickly deduced as such. The what is still open to interpretation, I'm sure. "Correct."
She lifts her gaze. Her eyes glow brilliantly and curiosity burns in their depths even as that same child-like smile curves her ivory cheeks. "Are you ever going to tell me what you are exactly?"
I bob my head, and her lips curl even more. "But not now. Later, after the big worries are behind us."
She silently burrows into my shirt, pressing her ear to my vibrating sternum and holding me in place with her slight form encased in my strong arms. She stands where she belongs, right here with me, and I am surrounded by the sweetest cage the Devil ever created.
Standing there, I will love this fragile human girl for the rest of my seemingly limitless existence, and I've never been so blessed to be so utterly damned.
"Miss Swan, my name is Officer Huckabee," a large, uniformed man greets when we step up to the desk. "I will be leading you through the procedures today. If you will follow me back into my office, we can get started."
He turns and begins striding down the far right hallway. Bella grips my hand as we trace his steps to the last door on the right. The room is small and crowded by a thoroughly covered desk, two guests chairs, and a back wall covered with shelving units and filing cabinets. The officer waves a hand over the seats opposite his desk and Bella drops into one, never loosening her hold or relaxing her stiff posture. She sits completely upright and her top strains over her upper back and shoulders. Hoping to calm her down, I transfer her hand to my other one so I can rub her back. She shivers as my fingers dance up and down her rigid spine, and she slowly calms, though her posture never falters. Officer Huckabee carefully notes our interaction as he sorts through his paperwork.
Ah, here it is. He lays a slim file atop the mahogany structure. "So, I'd like to begin by getting some basic information about you and your history. Let's begin with your name."
"Isabella Maria Swan," Bella replies.
"Birthday?"
"September 13th, 1996."
"Birthplace?"
"Forks Local Hospital in Forks, Washington."
"Address?"
The questions continue until the paper is filled with information and he deems it adequate. His thoughts turn to the events and the reason for her being here, and he begins digging for a recorder as he thinks of how to make the transition for her statement as painless and clean as possible. I am impressed by his selfless consideration, and it makes me happy he is trying to handle the situation to the best of his ability, all the while thinking of how to keep Bella as calm as possible. After a quiet minute passes, he places the recording system before us, hooking up two mics to the system with one pointed towards Bella and the other facing him. Bella eyes the device warily, and I squeeze her hand. She glances at me, surprised, but her eyes soften with overwhelming relief. I offer a gentle smile, continuing my ministrations up her spine.
Officer Huckabee shifts forward, tapping the record button on the device. His gentle, understanding eyes meet Bella's cautiously. "Now, Bella, I know you were expecting to speak with your uncle today, but he had a last minute interference. However, I am more than qualified to undergo the taking of your statement, and your uncle and I will be discussing the recording once he is free. Is that okay?"
Bella bobs her head stiffly, eyes flashing with wariness.
"Good; I'm glad." He stops the recording, playing it briefly, and I realize he is checking the audio level and making sure it is working properly. He resets the tape and begins again. "The date is October 6, 2014, and I, Officer Huckabee, am sitting with Isabella Swan. Today, she will be giving her statement against James Swan and all current accusations regarding his detainment. The allegations include domestic abuse, child abandonment, and child endangerment and neglect." He looks up at Bella. "Bella, if you can, I'd like you to tell me around the time the abuse began."
She inhales deeply, staring at the table and ignoring the mic entirely. "The abuse began over the summer after I moved back to Forks to live with him. At first, it was nothing more than a brush here or there; a painful grabbing of my arm; a forceful push. Initially, James practically ignored me. Then, one day, everything shifted. He started throwing punches and kicking."
The officer leans forward. His thoughts and actions display his prominent interest and sadness for the girl between us. "After his actions changed, what was the extent of the damage? As in, what are some things he did after the shift?"
Bella shifts awkwardly, curling and uncurling her hands in her lap. I set my hand atop one of hers, and she grips it between both of hers as if she's holding onto her lifeline, her sanity. In a way, I suppose she truly is. "Punching, kicking, scratching, burning, cutting with a knife, whipping with leather and metal; the list goes on. He...he has...he has a room. It's in the back of the house. That's where he kept the...things...devices he used."
It is this which sets my venom soaring. A quiet growl rumbles through my chest, and I must concentrate on pushing my anger down. I am here for Bella. I cannot let my emotions rule me.
Huckabee nods and jots that information down. "We are waiting on the warrant to perform a thorough search of the home. Was that the only place where things were kept, or was there another part of the house where he stored things?"
She blinks, and her brow furrows as the thinks hard a moment. Then, she shakes her head decidedly. "No, that was the only area where specific objects were kept. To be honest, I'm not sure why he had the room. The things he did to me..." She pauses, squeezing her eyes shut. "Well, it wasn't about the room or the things inside the room. He did as much damage picking a random object off the kitchen counter as he did with anything in that room."
"Did that happen often? And did you note any reasoning for exactly when or why the abuse occurred?"
She glances at me. "Honestly, there were never really any reasons behind the actions. Some things triggered it, I suppose. If I was late from school, woke up too late, didn't buy the right bread from the store. It was whatever he deemed appropriate. Most of the time, it was for his pure entertainment."
I snarled once more, and Bella must have felt the vibrations because she squeezed my hand once more, eliciting a smooth calm to befall my body. I melted, leaning closer to her until her scent completely assaulted my angered senses. The fury dimmed behind the veil of pure Bella, and I wanted nothing more than to pull her out of the room, escape this questioning, and hold her until one could no longer tell where I began and she ended. Blissful, I wanted to lay on our bed with her draped across my body - skin to skin - until all of these problems disappeared into nothingness.
That, however, was not something which could happen. Yet, at least.
Huckabee sat back with a gentle huff, clearly disgruntled by the events Bella spoke of. He had worked alongside James for years at this point, and he had never once thought of how evil the man could truly be. To sit here, speaking to the abused daughter wounded beneath James' hand, it was sickening to hear and even more disturbing to know he would more than likely find all the truth of her words once the warrant was approved. In a way, he desperately wanted this to be a matter of lies - a mere mix up - but he knew that was never going to happen. He would get his proof, and he would gladly shove James into the nearest available cell.
He clears his throat briefly. "Thank you, Bella," he murmurs softly before laying his entwined hands atop the desk. "I am sorry for everything that has happened to you; I truly am heartbroken for you and your situation. I promise, we will have this sorted as quickly as possible."
"Thank you," Bella replies in a whisper.
With a sigh, the officer continues, "So, as I've heard, you are currently living with Dr. Cullen and his family, correct?" He looks my way as he asks this.
"Yes, sir."
"Are you happy with this arrangement?" he wonders.
She grips my hand a little tighter. "Absolutely."
"Well, we have no reason to remove you from their guardianship. I would, however, like to receive a thorough record from Dr. Cullen regarding any scars or current injuries you have left over since leaving your home. Would that be a problem?"
She shakes her head, and the loose strands float weightlessly through the air before settling. "No. I'll have Carlisle look me over this weekend. I'll get what you need to you at the beginning of next week."
He stops the recording. "You did well, Bella. There is certainly more than enough evidence to jail your father for life, no doubt. It should be over soon."
Bella exhales heavily, finally collapsing into the seat. "Good," she whispers. "That's good."
Huckabee smiles politely before standing and stretching his hand to the door. "If you remember or think of anything helpful regarding what we spoke of today, please call the station or come by and let us know. Until then, you are free to go and enjoy the rest of your day."
She nods and we rise. I shake the officer's hand briefly before leading a slightly shaking Bella out of the office and then out into the parking lot. I open the passenger side door and she slides across the cool leather with ease. I carefully shut the door, sprinting to the driver's side. The engine purrs with a confident turn of the ignition, and I immediately seek out Bella, curving my hand over her thigh. She rests one hand atop mine while wrapping the other around my stretched arm. Her braids tumble down my arm as she leans her head against my shoulder, closing her eyes as her chest expands with calming inhalations. I turn my head and press a kiss to her soft hair.
"I'm so proud of you, Sweetheart," I acknowledge. "You did a wonderful job."
"I'm still worried. What if it's not enough to get rid of him? What if he gets out and comes after me?"
I growl, and she lifts her head, looking at me while rubbing a hand over my cotton covered sternum, feeling the vibrations. I meet her gaze fiercely. "He will never hurt you again."
She stares a minute before blinking and returning to her relaxed position. She continues to shake ever so slightly, and I push the car faster. The rest of the drive is silent, and after I park in the garage, I lift her out of the vehicle and hold her against my chest as I stride up the stairs to my - our - room. Her arms tighten around my shoulders, and she buries her face in the crook of my neck. Once I reach my destination, I carefully set her down on the bed. Kneeling before her, I slip off her shoes and socks and then stand to do the same. She removes her jacket, dropping it on the floor, and scoots back until her head rests on the pillows. I follow suit, laying beside her before gripping her waist and pulling her up onto my chest, just like I wanted to. She sighs when my arms envelope her, and she slowly relaxes against me until the shaking disappears completely. Minutes, hours, or days could have past, and I would have been blissfully unaware, enraptured by the warm girl covering my icy body. It is a long moment of silence before her gentle whisper fills the air.
"Edward?" she drawls. "It's later..."
I sigh softly, tilting my head to press my lips to the silken skin of her forehead. Closing my eyes and breathing her in, I part my lips, speaking the words which I have no anticipation for her reaction. Her silent mind is my separation from her true emotions and unfiltered thoughts. Will she hate me once she knows? I force that question away, as well as my worry. I must trust she will stay. I must trust her love. Still, I hesitate for but a second. Then.
"I'm a vampire."