Chapter 11:

Jake:

I was exhausted by the time Sam finally said I could go home. While the image of my bed did seem taunting, the image of Cara was even more so after hours of talking about someone I already hated more than... well, than Edward. I drove quickly through the La Push streets trying to avoid anything that would make the headache I had any worse, with a desperate need to get to her. The windows were open, the wind ran through my hair, cooling my heated skin. It was so calm- unlike reality- I could have fallen asleep at the wheel.

In what seemed like no time, Cara's house came into view, stretching across the horizon at the end of the almost deserted road. Shuddered windows, finished porch, I knew that in the back, there was an open deck. I could see the lights on and smiled when I thought of wrapping my tired arms around her and just not moving for a month. The speedometer went up another notch.

I pulled up next to her dad's car, my lights reflecting the blue paint. For once it wasn't raining, a good night for a bonfire. The Rabbit rumbled to a stop, I cut the ignition and hopped out, marching straight up to her front door without once stumbling around from fatigue and knocked, expecting her to answer right away… she didn't. Nobody did. I knocked again after a few minutes, wondering if they'd gone out or something but then I heard pounding footsteps coming down the stairs. My heart thumped hard once before it settled back down.

The door swung open but it wasn't Cara, just her father, or what used to be her father. He stood, looking more disheveled than I'd ever seen him, with his hair stuck up on end as if he'd been running his hands through it alot, he looked tired and worn out. I bit back the slight disappointment I felt that it wasn't Cara, and shoved my hands deep into my pockets.

"Is Cara..." Something was wrong, it spiked through my body in a sudden rush, making my hands curl into fists, my jaw clench. It hit me like a brick wall, animal instinct. Worry and fear were rolling off of him in waves, he looked anxious and scared. I had to swallow a few times before I could speak. "Mr. Jamison?"

"Jake, now isn't the best time-"His voice was gruff and hoarse, his blue eyes, so much like Cara's, were red-rimmed. My heart started to rampage and I silently prayed that maybe he'd just been having a bad day. Looking at him and the fact that I wasn't looking at Cara clicked pieces together five seconds late.

"What's wrong? Where's Cara?" I craned my neck around her father, as if I would see her sprawled on the floor or something. The frenzy in my chest eased when I didn't. All I did see though were boxes… everywhere… my thudding heart suddenly ached… suddenly stood still. "Mr. Jami-"

"I don't know where she is! She just… I think she- she ran away" He snapped, I jumped, not expecting it.

The sun was going down, fresh rain clouds were rolling in, promising another storm tonight. I stared at him, my imprint's father, for a good ten minutes before my mind processed his words. Even then, I couldn't make myself believe them, they wouldn't really stick in my consciousness. Light flowed out onto the porch where I stood, sending shadows all around me, Chris Jamison never fully opened the door or invited me in and for once I didn't want to go in, see her house without her in it. As his words finally made sense in my head, my heart steadily picked up speed, until it was at the point of exploding.

"She'd never do that" I finally said, because she wouldn't. Some part of me knew Cara would never run away, she loved La Push and her father too much... which only left one option. I fought for control of my anger, so I wouldn't shift right there in front of her father and do something I'd regret. Emily's face flashed before my eyes.

"Then… then what if…?" He'd thought of that possibility too.

Thunder rolled in the distance, sending shivers through my entire body as I thought of all the ways I could tear David apart. Cara's dad was staring at me as if I had four heads, my hand tightened around the banister of the front steps so much I'd left an impression of my hand. I hadn't even realized I'd stepped away, let alone grabbed it for support.

"I'll get her back" My voice was a low, intense rumble, intimidating even to my own ears. Mr. Jamison's eyes widened before he nodded, helpless, and watched me march back to my truck, stiff shouldered and tense.

Without another word, I started the engine and raced back to Sam's house, tires squeeling as I peeled off. If I thought I'd been driving fast before, I was faster than the speed of light now. I couldn't make out any real objects out my window, just the yellow lines of the road, illuminated by my headlights. Racing towards First Beach, grey clouds loomed up in front of me. My grip tightened around the steering wheel, thoughts whipped through my head at speeds too quick to keep track off, like the trees zipping past my car. All I could see was Cara, then David, then Cara… I couldn't believe it but I made myself think the words as I drove, a plan already forming.

She's been kidnapped.

Cara:

The first thing I noticed was the rocking. The steady rhythm of movement that was by no means my own. My body seemed to sway, seemed to roll. The second thing I noticed was that it was only my body moving, my head was stationary, cushioned on something soft. And third... somehow it took me a few seconds to place what I realized third. It was a weird sensation, traveling from my temple back through my hair to my neck, only to repeat the process all over. After the fourth cycle it hit me, like being tossed into ice cold water.

A hand, stroking my hair. Like some creepy Children of the Corn-ish movie.

My entire body felt numb- my legs, my arms- but as quickly as I could, with my mind focused only on getting as far away from that hand, I pushed myself up into a sitting position, threw myself as far away as possible. The cushion had been someone's lap. My back slammed into something hard that jabbed into my spine, a car door handle, my head smacked against the window in my rush to get away. I could barely keep my breathing under control, thoughts raced through my head in fragmented phrases.

At first, everything was too bright as if I'd been living under ground my entire life, but slowly, I could see clearly where I was. A limo, stretch. Black leather seats, heavily tinted windows. No bar, no sun roof, no flashing lights on the ceiling. It reminded me of a funeral car, the ones that carry the casket? And it was cold… so cold even my super human heat couldn't keep it at bay.

"Are you finished?" The voice made my blood freeze, but forced my heart to pound faster. It was as cold as the limo, as hard as diamond. I knew it already.

Slowly, almost as though I was afraid to, my eyes focused on the woman who had previously held my head in her lap, had just been gently stroking my hair. Her brown eyes were endless and wise, as if she knew every one of my secrets. They made me feel exposed. Her dark hair coiled down her back, her pant suit was neatly pressed. Right down to her perfectly manicured nails, she screamed all business. She was my mother.

"Really, didn't your father teach you anything?" She muttered to herself before swiftly reaching over, placing a finger under my chin and pushing my jaw closed. I guess I may have been gaping at her. Who wouldn't?

"Taught me more than you did" I said indignantly. What right did she have, to talk about my father when he'd always been there? When he'd sacrificed his entire life for me? My throat suddenly closed up, tears stung my wide eyes as the memory of how I'd last seen my father came to mind. I pressed further against the limo door.

"Yes, well. Hardly" Diana sent me a withering look, like a biology student looking at the frog she was about to dissect.

Disapproval dripped off of her, coming at me in waves. It was stupid, but I felt… hurt. I tried to shake it off, snap myself out of it, but in that instant I wanted her to approve of me, of who I was. She was my mother, as crazy as that seemed. But the begrudging silence kept coming, the limo kept getting colder… and I was getting farther and farther away from home!

"Where are you taking me?" I asked in a whisper. I couldn't see out of the windows, my own face reflected back to me. The sight was scary- my hair was dripping, plastered to my head, my eyes were puffy and red as if I'd been crying, and there was one painful bruise on my forehead already turning yellow. I tentatively touched it and flinched.

"Home, dear" replied Diana Jamison, since Mom was too weird to say. Her smile was sickly false, there was no warmth in her eyes. My heart ached just looking at this women, who's DNA made up half of my own.

"I was home, dear" She didn't notice the loathing my voice, barely cared that my hands were balled into fists at my side.

"Temporary. I'm taking you to where you truly belong, Cara. With me, with you rightful Pack. Those people back there hardly count as a pack. More a… litter, a gaggle. Nothing compared to ours" I had to bite my tongue to keep from lashing out, defending my Pack. So there were only nine of us… we were more of a pack than hers could ever be. We were family basically. But then I realized that the Pack was nowhere in sight, just me. Alone.

"How many?... In yours I mean" I asked. I had to do something, get out of here. The ache in my back gave me an idea. Keeping my eyes on her, I eased further toward the door, tried to get my hand on the handle. I'd jump out if necessary.

"Ours contains approximately forty adults… not including the fifteen children" Diana said, glancing once at me as she spoke. I bit back my barely contained gasp of surprise- eight against forty. My fingers curled around the knob, I felt for the lock and popped it. "If you want to keep your hands, I'd suggest keeping them to yourself"

I froze, the handle halfway pulled. My eyes darted to her face, the stony expression and I gulped. The car faltered, braked suddenly,I had to throw out my hands to catch myself against the other seat. Diana had barely moved an inch. Seconds later, we rolled smoothly on again, as if nothing had happened.

"Besides. It's child proofed. No way out until we reach homeland" And then it was hopeless again, in that one sentence. She sat in perfect peace and silence, unaware that this was wrong. Sick. A new kind of custody battle.

Hopeless and helpless, I put my head against the ice cold glass and strained to see anything… anything… but there was nothing but my own reflection, surrounded by absolute darkness.


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