Chapter 11: The Truth Will Out

Nessie's POV

I was terrified. Abso-freakin-lotuely terrified. I've been on many dangerous drug/money smuggling missions in my life and none of them left me as terrified as I felt right now.

I was to terrified and to ashamed to even look my family in the face right now. They had already overheard what John and I had said about me and my family being in danger because the drug lords felt that I owed them something. They were awaiting an explanation.

I felt an ice cold hand on my shoulder and I looked up. Aunt Rosalie was looking at me expectantly.

"Nessie-"

"I'm sorry Aunt Rosalie I just-I can't!" I started weeping uncontrollably. She hugged me in the most comforting embrace that she could. I truly didn't deserve her. Truly I didn't. She just found out that I was a narco and she still loved me enough to comfort me.

"Nessie you need to tell us the truth," she said. "The whole truth,"

"I I can'tt," I stuttered in fear.

"Nessie in order for us to help you with whatever problems you're in we need to know the truth,"

"The truth? I'm sorry I can't. If I tell you everything that I've done you're going to hate me. You're all going to hate me!" I sobbed.

"Renesmee look at me,"uncle Emmett said. "Look," It sounded like an order that I couldn't help but obey. "Do you honestly think that any of us could ever hate you? We've been looking for you all these years because we love you. Don't ever think that we will hate you for what you've done in the past,"

I took a few shaky breaths.

"Nessie why don't you show us what happened?" Aunt Alice suggested. "Showing us might be easier then telling us,"

The thought of showing everyone my entire life made my heart beat faster. I've carried around so many secrets all my life and the thought of putting them all on display for everyone to know scared me. However, they were right about one thing, showing them would be easier then telling them.

I put my hand on aunt Rosalie's cheek and closed my eyes. It had been over 20 years since I used my gift on anyone and honestly I wasn't sure if it would even work anymore.

My memories started with the day my mom disappeared. From there I just let the memories, along with the emotions, flood my mind.

I remembered how scared and sad I was. My memories transitioned into the way my father reacted and how he would treat me in the following years. How he used to always blame me for what happened. Everyone else seemed to forget that I even existed at the time. My whole family was so obsessed with finding my mom that I felt like they barely acknowledged my existence anymore. That hurt me a lot to.

Then one day I couldn't handle it anymore. I got screamed at by my father for the one hundredth millionth time about how it was all my fault he lost the only thing that ever mattered to him in this life. How it would be better if I just never would've been born in the first place. I just sort of snapped and I couldn't stay there another second.

However I couldn't leave without seeing Jacob one last time. Jacob was my best friend. My only friend actually and I couldn't leave without telling him the truth. He tried to convince me to stay and when that failed he tried to convince me to let him come along. When that failed he attempted suicide right in front of me.

Thinking he was dead I ran away immediately. I was beyond consolable at this time. I had no one. Nothing. I had lost everyone and it was all my fault.

I spent the next several days scouring the streets of Seattle. To this day I still couldn't tell you for sure how I managed to get all the way to Seattle. My memories of that time period are extremely fuzzy.

That's when I met my future husband Scott. He was a teenager at the time. He immediately recognized me for the human-vampire hybrid that I was. To this day he still hasn't told me how he knew the truth. One of his many secrets I guess.

He offered me food and money in exchange for going on a "mission" for him. One mission turned into two, two turned into three, and so on and so forth.

At the time I didn't know that I was smuggling mainly meth and coke across the border. All I did know was that it was extremely important that I not get caught and that I delivered the "products" to the right people.

The only thing I was sure of was that I always got food, money, and shelter in exchange for the missions he sent me on.

The missions started to get more and more dangerous and deadly as time went by. I killed people out of self defense. I didn't want to kill people but I didn't have a choice.

I remembered the day that Scott asked me to marry him and when I said no at first he got angry. Went on and on about how I "owed him" for everything he had done for me. "How it was "my duty" to give him the one thing he wanted after he "picked me up off the street and threw me into a life of luxury"

My next memory was odd my wedding day. I felt unhappy that day. I didn't have much of a choice though. I did "owe him" didn't I? I married him out of obligation.

I didn't feel happy until I gave birth to my first baby. My little Diego. The day I met my son for the first time was truly the happiest day of my life.

Soon after giving birth I was back on those missions again. I was back to smuggling drugs. Back to outrunning federal agents. Back to a life I wanted so desperately to get out of for good.

Then I met John. My husband would send me to give him the drugs, an action that would have unintended consequences. I found myself longing for his presence. We would meet up in secret many times. We fell in love and then I had to break it off for fear of what my husband would do if he found out.

Not long after that my daughter was born. Whether she was a product of John and I or my husband and I was still a big unanswered question. Her birth brought me much joy and happiness though just as her brother's had. My kids were the only thing that brought me joy. My Derek, Belle, and Diego. They were my world.

From that point on life pretty much stayed the same. I was still smuggling drugs because I saw no way out of the business that didn't result in mine and/or my children's deaths.

I couldn't get out. I was stuck. Now my kids and I are all in danger.

When I was finished telling my story I opened my eyes and looked at aunt Rosalie. I heard her sobbing. If she could cry she would've been crying a river of tears.

"I-"

"Nessie you need to tell them as well," she said gesturing to my uncles and aunt. "They need to know,"

I took a deep breath. I wasn't sure if I was ready to show my story again but it looks like I didn't have a choice. I repeated it for the rest of them.

"Have you told your mom? Or Carlisle and Esme?"

I shook my head. "Only my mom knows. I haven't had the guts to tell my grandparents anything,"

That was the end of that conversation. My feeling of dread wasn't over yet. In fact, telling my grandparents seemed even scarier than telling anyone else. Carlisle and Esme didn't deserve any of this. None of them did.

The walk back to my house felt like the longest walk of my life. As we were walking I noticed that Emmett had disappeared but I didn't question it.

As soon as we arrived at my penthouse my aunts and uncle looked at it in disgust. Knowing just how I could afford such a luxurious living space didn't sit well with them it seemed.

For a moment it seemed like all was forgotten the moment they saw my mother, their sister, again. Even meeting my kids seemed to make them happier. At least for the moment. I knew I couldn't put off the inevitable though.

When aunt Rosalie suddenly announced that I had something to tell them I knew that my time was up. My heart felt like it was going to jump out of my chest as I began to replay my story for grandpa Carlisle and then grandma Esme.

Both of them were behind speechless when I was finished with my story. I didn't know if it was shock, anger, or disappointment but I knew that I'd find out soon enough.

Before anything else could happen though I heard the doorbell ring. When I opened the door I was met with a very angry uncle Emmett who was actually dragging, dragging , the one remaining person I hadn't seen in more than twenty years.

My father Edward Cullen.

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