Ch. 10
The distantly familiar noise of pelts and pelts of rain hitting the tin of the roof drain above and knocking against the windows of my condo woke me too soon after Rebecca had gone but left her words behind. Through the window, still curled in bed after waking, I watched dark grey clouds from the distance move closer with every minute, telling of all the previous rainless weeks that must've accumulated into this one large storm, because there was a downpour; the type soaking you through your clothes one foot out the door. I'd seen a few of these with the monsoons back home.
This – the rain – bothered me today, warning of an even greater sense of doom and more realistically forming that metaphoric grey cloud over my once light paradise.
Earlier this morning, I reached such a high point of mental exhaustion – a heavy feeling of my mind too full – that dozing off again was simple, because it was almost as though I blacked out. If this situation was any less tolling, any less thought provoking, I was sure I wouldn't have been able to sleep through the places my mind was taking me, but being so shell-shocked helped in effectively shutting down in every way possible. Not even when I stared at my ceiling for hours to the sound of the storm, piecing together all I could, did it make me feel any sort of shock or stun; not even as I asked myself the question What do I know about werewolves? and answered They're cursed by full moons and allergic to silver.
My enlightenment of the subject had come from reading numerous novels. The folklore was always the same or slightly varied in each. The moment I began to really think it through was the moment I caught myself on the brink of stupidly considering werewolves as if it were actually factual.
No, they're only stories in books.
As I continued to lay in bed, with a crippled and stepped on heart, I felt like even more of a fool for hoping such a monstrosity of thing could be real. It wasn't. I needed to convince myself of that before I lost the remainder of my entity to what Jacob had already taken from me. Yet, the part of me that liked having the answers to each and every problem still demanded them, screamed a desperate why!, so I broke the promise to Rebecca I would have made if I was any less angry at each of their betrayals.
I called Charlie.
Five minutes after the idea formed – leaving a message on his answering machine, realizing it was Friday and he would be at work, calling Renée to get that number – I was on hold waiting to go through to the Sheriff of Forks, Washington.
"Officer Swan," he greeted in his familiarly-fatherly gruff voice.
Before this point, I practiced speaking, clearing my throat, to make sure my own voice wouldn't give me away. The pain from the night before I couldn't rid myself of, but I didn't think he'd notice. "Hi, Charlie."
He coughed and choked on a drink, a gurgling noise resounding. Coffee, I presumed. "Bella! What're you doin' calling my work? Is everything okay?"
I cracked the first smile on my lips of the day. He worried too much, but for someone with his job, I couldn't blame him. Someone worrying about me was nice, too. "Things are fine." I didn't try to sound convincing as I let out a half-hearted chuckle and carried straight to the point. "I was only calling to ask you something quickly and say hi. Mom gave me this number."
"Well, sure! It's nice hearing your voice. You can call anytime. What's on your mind, Bells?" Through the phone, I heard the shutting of a door and the voices in the background cease. Privacy, my mind told me, taking me right back to the night before where I stood under an illuminating streetlight with Jacob feet away, and the out of nowhere memory caused my body to flinch.
Before continuing, I had to shake it off.
I sat at the edge of my bed, facing the window, watching the rain. The stare my eyes held was blank, but I explained mechanically, already having rehearsed this in my head, "I've been hanging around Jacob and Rebecca a lot lately. They've told me…stories about their tribe. I was wondering if you've ever heard anything? I'm… curious, I guess."
"'Course I have," came his reply. "Billy's always telling some stories about their tribe's ancestors and the wolf folklore. It's all a big hit with the kids. You were there once, for the stories. Don't you remember?"
Remember? My brain hurt too much if I really tried to think, but no…not during Jacob's lies and Rebecca's taking sides did anything come to mind. Still lost in my lack of memory, I whispered a lost, "No…"
He encouraged, "Huh. Well, you should get one of them to tell you. They're pretty darn interesting."
"Sure sure." From my speech, a part of Jacob I kept inside escaped, leaving me with a fresh wave of hurt. My fingers gripped the sheets. I was lying to myself if I thought it would be easy to let him go if he was already so much a part of me. The following tears were my cue to end the call. "I should get going, Charlie. Thanks."
"Welcome. Say hi to those two for me. Don't be a stranger. Love you, Bells," he said in a voice a level lower than the top-notch cheeriness he first greeted me with, and was probably due to my abruptness and not even the simple How are you, dad?
But those were our last parting words; we hung up at the same moment, leaving no room for what would have been my lack of response, and he must have known I didn't have one. I was too busy feeling a sense of relief in the form of a punch at my gut and, with another blow, hating myself directly after because according to Charlie, someone I trusted because he had no reason to deceive me, Jacob's and Rebecca's tribe secrets were in some way truthful. That, I crossed off my mental list, weren't the lies among many I needed answers to. But more importantly, Charlie's confirmation meant Jacob wasn't completely out of his mind crazy, and it gave me some form of a strand – a loose, tearing string – of hope to cling to.
Maybe there was a part of this I was missing; maybe Jacob had gotten something wrong. I so badly wanted to believe him, because I didn't want the person shedding so much light on my life to be gone from it so abruptly.
From the two too-short weeks of being with Jacob, I knew it was Friday nights he never worked in his messy and always changing schedule, and if there was any sort of time to take weak action, it was now. As I began to lift my aching body from bed, my phone, still in my hands, beeped.
In my head, the message read I'm sorry, Bells, let me explain, but as I blinked, it really said What's wrong, sweetie? I'd cut Renée off so quickly when I got Charlie's work number from her it was no wonder she was texting me for answers. But I needed answers of my own, so she could wait. I had a sinking feeling I would be returning home empty-handed and equally as empty everywhere else with an even greater need to cry to someone.
The walk to the bus stop, the drive, the getting off the bus and walking to my destination all passed in a blur, but the rain soaking me from head to toe I couldn't ignore; my jeans and shirt clung to me, hair sticking to my neck. There was a chill behind the rain – a replacement of its usual warmth, feeling different against my skin that I had a hard time liking.
With shaky fingers, I lifted the hatch on the fence surrounding the Blacks' house leading into the backyard, the same way Jacob led me in and out of many different times, smiles and silly butterflies with each enter and exit. I had stared at the empty house before this, making a decision and observing it from the street for many dragging minutes, noting the two missing cars up front but the two placed motorcycles in the door-less shed on the left. If there had been anything in my stomach, it would have come back up with the dry heaves from a combination of weighing emotions, beginning with nerves and ending with facing someone I thought I could love who rather betrayed me and left a crease in my universe behind.
Most of the time, I never liked facing my demons. I wouldn't have now if Jacob didn't mean so much to me, and I think that was why I was I so shaken up.
The backyard seemed never-ending as I walked its length to the guest house's front door, feet sinking into the wet lawn, a squishing, sucking noise sounding.
With the reminder that Jacob was the one on trial here – not me, even if I was feeling so – it helped lift my clenched hand to send my knuckles in connection with the door three times. It also helped refuel me with an urge to get answers and make Jacob feel as completely pitiful as I do now to punish him for punishing me, even if all I wanted was to be in his arms and maybe cry a little. But I didn't think he deserved to see me so weak, so he wouldn't.
Too soon Jacob answered, as if expecting me, his own face reflecting what I saw of mine passing by a mirror at home, hair tousled and shirtless, eyes momentarily drained before transforming into hard and pressing as he took me in, no words but a pleading, begging look, and for a few long beats of silence that was all there was, like he was scared his words would send me away once more as if I was a frightened dog. I probably appeared as one.
I felt my lower lip tremble as I worked up, "This is it." My voice of warning mixed with the rain, my eyelashes mixing with the droplets falling from my hair and making it hard but not impossible to see. "This is it, okay? Make me understand why you've done this. I need answers from you."
And suddenly it felt as though we were backwards and last night was replaying in a different scenario; a one where I'm Jacob and he's me, because the pain spreading like liquid across his face was once on mine and I knew from experience exactly how it felt within me and what it must be feeling like within him now. Somewhere in me it was still there, untouched.
His hand reached out, as if to touch me, in the same moment I got sucked back into the feelings I was trying to fight off a while longer so that my hard edge would remain and I could inflict every ounce of pain on him as he had on me. It was the only way I knew how to react in this situation. Before I could come to and make any move to recoil from him, Jacob stopped it himself, muttering Damn it under his breath, clenching his fist, and lowering it back to his side, a clear line between his eyes from where his brows tensed.
The door, by the force of his same hand, was shoved the rest of the way open and his body moved aside to invite me in. Even though the rain was nothing to me at this moment, I still wanted out of it. I took the remaining steps into the dark-lit living room, standing in place, my own hands fisted, unmoving and dripping water to form a puddle on the carpet floor.
Once I heard the door close, Jacob's voice followed after with, "You're soaking wet," and a sigh to his tone. I didn't turn to face him, but just shrugged. Was he expecting any more than this from me? He's the one who kicked me around and beat me to the ground by forcing me to open up and then shutting me down, I wasn't sulking for attention, only for vengeance.
"I'll get you some clothes to change into. Then…I'll tell you. Everything. Okay, honey? Shit, don't make this so hard on me."
If I could see his face, I was sure I would melt under that and his scared words.
But I couldn't. So I instead shrugged again, caring less about my clothes than anything else, but he was promising me an explanation, so I would go along with his desires to make sure I got what I needed to appease my aching heart, as if answers were going to fill up the hole the way they fill up my mind.
In his room, after following him down the blank hallway, my eyes gave in to the sadness and relaxed, following Jacob as he searched around for a change of clothes I could fit into, appearing lost, constantly going back and forth, from one dresser to another, giving himself time to think and gather himself. Things had never been like this between us, with a need to escape from the other. It was always so easy. Words and feelings used to flow naturally.
I was sure two minutes had passed before he was back in front of me, holding the items he searched his room to find; a shirt and sweats. After acknowledging the clothes, I looked back up at Jacob to find his eyes hadn't left mine. I ignored everything but that blackness, trying my hardest to read him now that there was clear light above us (his face was hard, the light accentuated this) as he seemed to be doing the same with me. What were my eyes and expression telling him?
We simply stared, trying to figure the other out, his arm still extended. And to that battle our eyes were fighting – mine searching for any sign of regret or love or remorse, his fighting for forgiveness while equally begging for it – I reacted to what I saw still burning between us: want. It was as bright and as hard to ignore as the sun. That. I could use that against him. In one swift motion, I tugged my shirt over my head and dared in a cold voice, "Touch me."
Before the air of my next breath could leave my lungs, my back was slammed into the nearest wall and Jacob's hands were everywhere, pinning me with those and his body. His lips, with a groan, found mine with a rough capture.
I knew this was where our initial attraction would always come from, because with every one of his touches I felt a little bit lighter, and even as the same effect happened now, lifting me, I was kissing and touching him back because I knew it was the one thing I could use against him, but there was nothing behind those touches or kisses, and that was the point. The same emotion he put into the intimacy of his touches, something his hands and lips could communicate with ease, I was taking and not returning, doing so deliberately because hadn't this been my problem all along? The one that caused this fight? If it beat him down so much once before, it was sure to now.
My hands became responsive and my fingernails raked down his naked torso, coming to rest on the hardness growing beneath his shorts, squeezing, as his hands worked their way from my hair to my breasts, his lips breathing my name as he pushed into me with the grunt, the softness of his voice telling of how he was thinking this was me forgiving him, because he was saying it with so much love.
Yet, not much longer did I have to act in the way that had caused our fight – by never voicing my feelings and sucking his right up, as Jacob had told me – because he picked up on how unresponsive and taking and using and how un-full of feeling my touches were, except to pit them against him, so quickly, like he always had with me when we were like this. He could feel it, sense it, in the same way he had when I wasn't trying like I am now, using it as my revenge.
His hands and lips fell away from me in the same moment like I would burn him, palms resting on the wall above my shoulders as he hung his head, trembling, heavy breaths coming from us both, his fanning to the top of my head and smelling of evergreen. I opened my eyes to watch him shatter, not feeling any remorse until then.
Jacob pushed away from me and for a brief moment I could see his pain – his own form of understanding of what I was doing – just before he turned his head away, not allowing me to see like I hadn't allowed him. He composed himself, muttered in a toneless voice, "I'll be out in the living room when you're ready," and left the room like he would rather be anywhere but here.
Tears gathered in my eyes. This isn't the type of person I am; to inflict pain. Why did I do that? Why was I trying to hurt him? It was useless and completely, undeniably stupid. It was only hurting me in return, every stab a one at my chest. I felt impossibly sicker and had to cover my mouth with a shaky hand to choke the sickness in the form of sobs back.
Once I was somewhat composed, I changed into the oversized shirt and sweats and made the decision to drop this act of trying to get back at him. I think I already had.
In the living room, I found him sitting on the couch, leaning forward, elbows on knees, hands buried in his hair. I waited for him to catch sight of me and sit up a bit straighter before I took the remaining steps so I was on the couch, on my knees, and throwing myself into his arms and chest, not feeling any more inclined than I had in his bedroom to let my tears go. Even so, as I whispered a mantra of, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm just so hurt and angry," a few still managed to escape and slide down my cheeks until they met where my face molded into his chest. My arms squeezed around him.
Jake's hands came up to rub up my back lightly, still fearful, his lips at the top of my head, in my hair. "Shhhh… 's okay, honey, I deserved it. I deserved it."
My head shook a stubborn No – Jacob was the last person to ever deserve anything like that – as his warmth began to seep back into me. I closed my eyes, reveling, and asked in voice still of a whisper, "Can we pretend none of this ever happened and go back to the way we were before? I'm good at pretending. I just want to be with you like this."
The way his muscles tensed, relaxed, tensed back up again made it so I could almost feel the wheels spinning in his head as he weighed the idea. He sighed, and I knew his answer. "No, honey." He pushed me by my shoulders, so my head was away from his chest and he could look at me, tilt my chin. "Neither of us is that good at pretending. Christ, I really fucking need to tell you and you need to make a decision for yourself about me and us, Bella. Sit back. Let me explain what I told you last night, okay?"
To his orders, I drew my body away from his achingly, never wanting to have to but doing it anyways. I placed a quick and apologizing kiss to his jaw and settled back into the cushions with my knees to my chest, chin resting on them. I wiped away the tears still on my cheeks and gathered myself. "Go ahead. I'm really going to try and listen and believe you, Jacob."
The small smile on his lips was meant to be reassuring, but the way it faltered disproved that. He was nervous. So was I.
I braced myself. A voice in my head reminded my heart of all I went over this morning, urging my subconscious not to lose that.
Just before Jacob looked as though he was going to speak, lips parting, he took my hand, brought it to his mouth to place a kiss, and kept it in his solid grip, resting on his thigh. Other than that simple touch, he kept the space between us gaping in case I couldn't handle it and needed to escape.
He began, "When I said 'werewolf' I wasn't lying, Bells. If it hadn't happened to me when I was sixteen, my reaction would have been like yours. Fuck, it was. I thought I lost it when I phased for the first time. God, it was the worst night of my life." His jaw tensed, he was staring straight ahead, off in a different world. "Growing up in La Push, we were always told these stories about how our tribe was descended from wolves. It's our culture, it's celebrated. The whole town is painted in these stories. It's something we're supposed to have great pride in, but to most of the people it's all a myth. We're told and meant to believe that at one point Quileutes could transform into wolves on will because generations ago the leader of our tribe gave his soul to a wolf, and every man with the same bloodline as him since had the ability to phase into a werewolf.
"For three generations the gene has been absent. Part of the stories is that the only time these 'genes' are activated is when our tribe needs protectors… from our enemies, the Cold Ones. Vampires," he explained, his lips pulled back into a sneer. "It wasn't until my generation that our tribe needed these protectors, so as a result, the ten of us with the strongest bloodlines phased. This happened five years ago. To me. To my closest friends. No one knew how to deal with it, or what to expect. It hadn't happened in a century. We just knew the tales.
"I would prove it to you in a fucking instant if I could… but I can't. I gave it up, quit, when I moved here after high school. And stopping…it takes years of practice, Bella. It's the hardest thing I've ever gone through, and I've been through a lot. So fucking much. For three years I've been fighting it. The wolf is almost gone… but I can still feel it inside me, in my chest. I wake up in a cold sweat every damn morning… Giving into it and phasing to show you would just land me back at step one. I've fought so damn hard to be where I am right now. I don't want to go back. I'll go crazy, Bells.
"When I was phasing, everything for me as heightened. Sight and smell and hearing were all increased, my body temperature skyrocketed. That's why I told you last night that those things about me aren't all human. We, the wolves, run at 108.9 degrees. Even now, I'm at about a solid 100. I can still hear things normal people can't, still smell and see and sense, my strength is more than what should be normal but not near the way it was before. None of those changes have completely gone away. I don't think they ever will, not even the wolf. Fuck, he'll always be there. But do you understand? Do you see how it makes sense?"
Jacob was facing me now and I was slack-jawed and a little bit light-headed. My fingers gripped, dug into the cushion of the couch below me. At some point my hand had fallen from his. "How…how on earth am I supposed to believe this with no proof, Jacob? To me it sounds like some story out of a one of the manuscripts I'm reading. And…vampires?" My heart was going wild, this was too much. "Jake, you can't expect—"
My scared words were cut off by Jacob's lips. He leaned closer to me, cupping my cheek to kiss me and do that magical thing where all his feelings for me are told from how soft and gentle yet so passionate his lips in the form of a kiss can be. I got lost. His confession left me, the worry left me, and I was kissing him back, arching closer and touching my own hand to his cheek, thinking this should have been how it was in his room.
Seconds later he broke away, resting his forehead on mine, his fingers of the hand at my cheek twisting in my hair. Once more, he placed a kiss to my lips, awaking all my feelings for him from within, and asked, "Can you believe that? Can that be enough for now? I'm falling so in love with you, Bella. I would never lie to you, but this had to come out." Another kiss was followed with, "Let me convince you. I'll do anything."
The only thing keeping me from going over the edge, falling to all my want of arguing the logistics of this ugly truth being a lie, was Rebecca and what she told me about this being the actual truth. I felt conflicted as I whispered, feeling tears come back to my eyes, "Jake, I don't know what to bel—"
"I'll show her."
To the sound of Embry's voice, Jake's body broke from mine and our heads twisted to where he stood at the entry of the living room. Before I could blink, Jacob was on his feet, the look on his face protesting, but Embry was quicker than him to interrupt with a hand held up to stop him. I hastened to my own feet, catching myself on Jacob's forearm to keep from falling over from the dizziness.
We both faced Embry, who said next, "I'm not asking for your permission, Jake. So fucking save the speech. Sheesh. I know what the risks are." Risks? My brain was still catching up with me. "You know as well as I do that I owe you this for bringing me here and away from what we know would have happened. I'll take the set-back of a few months." He stepped closer, now looking directly at Jacob, the air becoming tense and serious and stuffy. "But one thing first: Are you sure she's worth it?"
"You shouldn't fucking have to ask me that, Embry," Jake growled without even a pause, giving no room for Embry's question to float and get trapped in the humidity.
"Right, 'course." Embry clapped his hands together, nodding his head. "Let's just get this over with then." My eyes, wild with confusion, watched Embry move towards the front door and exit, leaving it and the rain that had ceased to a dribble open to us.
I placed a hand to my chest, wanting the beat of my heart and its pounding on my bones to slow. It shouldn't be normal how fast it was racing.
"C'mon, honey," Jake whispered in my ear, holding me up with arm at my waist. "Embry's about to give you your proof. This is where you need to make your decision, okay, Bells? Stay or go."
Feeling various forms of nerves shoot up my spine and sting my stomach, I nodded my want of the proof, thinking my voice wouldn't make it past the lumps in my tight throat, which ached to say Stay, I'll stay. To the kiss Jacob placed at my head, he grabbed my hand, slipped our fingers together, interlocking them, and led me out the way I came in.
The scene outside was strange. Again, we were facing Embry who was facing us, but he was a good yard away, at the opposite end, near the fence and the large concealing trees placed there. Jacob kept us at this point, not more than five steps out the door, so that there was distance.
"Shorts," Embry called out to Jake, who nodded, freeing himself to leave me and turn back around to go inside for clothes. My grip on him was unrelenting, not allowing him to leave me. Shorts? Why would he need shorts? My eyes begged and questioned Jacob's.
"Our clothes get shredded when we phase. Embry's being modest for you, honey, so you won't have to see him naked."
A frenzied breath of What? left my lips, but Jacob was already gone, leaving me unsure if I would remain standing. What? I grew even more nervous and fearful, scared of what was to come at the word shredded, and to this, Embry chuckled, his voice drifting up to me, "It's okay, Swan. I won't bite."
My eyes widened. I sucked in the largest lung-full of humid air my lungs would allow. Jacob was back and holding me to his side before my mind could drive me too crazy. With the hand that wasn't around me, he tossed the shorts down to Embry.
Thinking if I blinked I would miss whatever it was I was about to witness, I kept my eyes peeled. I registered every ounce of confliction on Embry's face until there was no more face to inspect. Because then, so soon, there was a cracking, shifting noise and a larger-than-any-animal-I'd-seen-in-my-life wolf stood looking like a horse but with the girth of a bear, the torn clothes falling away to the wet ground, catching in the wind.
I could it hear it breathing. I could hear him, Embry, breathing. I gasped, because the truth sunk in with sharp knives, and Jacob had to catch me from falling.
"Thank you, Embry," Jake said in a voice so full of sincerity, dismissing him, as he turned us away from the grey wolf to the sound of that strange, cracking noise resounding once more.
Embry's voiced, "Welcome," stuck in my head. They could talk as wolves? As that thought was occurring, I saw Embry, as the human Embry I thought I knew, wince as he was walking past us on two legs, looking weak in a fresh pair of shorts. He made it to the house, I saw, just as Jacob pulled me tighter and tucked my head into his chest. I think I was crying or shaking. Or both. Nauseous, too. Air was becoming difficult to breathe because everything inside me wanted to come back up. I dug my fingers into Jake's side to keep myself anchored.
I focused on inhaling as Jake asked gently, "Are you okay to move, honey?"
My head shook no immediately, a voice warning I'm going to faint I'm going to faint I'm going to faint. "No. Don't let go."
Jacob's soft chuckle was endearing as he picked me up, keeping me close to him, sensing I wanted to be there. We were back inside his room before I knew it, sitting on his bed, my body curled in his lap and face buried into his neck, regaining composure. Anytime I unclenched my fingers from his sides, they shook.
I took that quiet time to process, hoping the world would stop spinning in the meantime. Werewolves. Real. Had my eyes betrayed me? I closed them, replaying the memory: A man and then a wolf… all within the same time-frame of a second. It was real. Out of fear, I asked, "Am I going crazy?" It felt that way.
His hand smoothed the hair on my head. "Only as crazy as I am, honey."
Somehow, that answer sedated me and my chest felt lighter. "Hmm," I hummed, and into his neck, nuzzling, I whispered, "I must really like you, Jacob Black."
A/N: I just want to remind that the wolf-y events in Jacob's life still happened the same way as they happened in La Push in the books, there's no difference here, except his moving to Hawaii after two years of phasing and a huge AU aspect of it which will come about later on.
Also, I changed the ending of this cause it would have been cliffhanger-ish and too much for one chapter. But I guess by telling you that it's kind of cliffhanger-ish is a cliffhanger in itself. I guess what I'm saying is next chapter might surprise most of you, hopefully not for the worse.
Until next time :-) I would love to hear your thoughts!