DISCLAIMER: This work of fiction is a non-profit, amateur effort and is not intended in anyway to infringe on the rights of Stephanie Meyer who created the wonderful Twilight Saga.
This chapter is dedicated to Debbie B, it takes a long time to grow an old friend babe so the years never really mattered!
Don't think too unkindly about Jasper, he's hurting too! Thank you for the reviews, I hope this one lives up to expectations? Enjoy!
Stop The Merry-Go-Round
Chapter Twelve: Questions
Alice's Point of View
Nessie had been my last client for the night and as she turned to pick up her bag, I gratefully removed my earpiece and slipped it, unseen, under the table before escorting her out. I hadn't needed it for her, I never did. I was always able to read her so clearly, unless Jacob was in the room that is. For some reason whenever he had slipped inside the tent to stand by Nessie during their first visit nothing would happen, it was like she faded from view. The moment he left her side I could see her again, as though a veil had been lifted from my eyes. She had still seemed so vital during our last session, so alive and I had lived with a crushing sense of guilt that I had seen nothing during that meeting, I hadn't even known she was ill until I had had the vision months later. Not just ill, dying. Her aged body slowly being eaten away by a dark mass. I had been desperate to contact her, to tell her that she needed to see her doctor but I hadn't known how. The fair had still been a few weeks away from Forks and I had waited in agony that something might happen, praying I would see her in time and then another vision, this one of her sleeping peacefully on a hospital bed, her emaciated frame swathed in thick white bandages. I let myself hope.
The lights around the tent and the sign went out plunging the area into sudden blackness but not before I saw an athletic frame push away from one of the trees close by. A shiver went through me, he looked really mad.
"Jasper?"
He stopped in his tracks and did that thing with his head again, tilting it to one side as though he were listening. I took a step forward and felt the heels of my shoes sink into the wet ground so I bent over to take them off. I shook my head in exasperation and heard his breath catch in his throat before he let it out with a whooshing sound. I cringed and looked down at my costume, yep, that'd do it, I shrugged apologetically and crossed my arms quickly over my chest letting my shoes swing from one of my little fingers. He began walking towards me again and I felt a frisson of fear, this was not a happy man.
"Jasper, are you alright?"
Now that my eyes had grown accustomed to the darkness I could see that his jeans were stained with dirt and grass and his t-shirt looked wet although I knew it hadn't rained, his hair was mussed as though he'd been scraping his fingers through it over and over again.
"Jasper?"
I watched as he squared his shoulders and ground out quietly through clenched teeth,
"Where do you get off telling that old couple what you just did? How is that man gonna feel if…when…if…"
Abruptly he changed the subject,
"How. The. Hell. Do. You. Know. My. Name?!"
He'd been edging closer to me with each word and we were almost touching, almost toe to toe, almost hip to hip, almost but not quite. I licked my lips nervously, saw him follow the movement and without seeming to be aware of it he reached up and tucked a stray hair behind my ear unwittingly caressing my cheek before letting his hand fall limply to his side his anger seemingly forgotten. I couldn't seem to move away as he looked down at my lips again and I felt my body sway towards his,
"Alice?"
A harsh voice penetrated the bubble that had settled around us, sealing us off from the rest of the world for the briefest of moments and I felt the blood drain from my face and took an automatic step back.
"Get your ass back over here lady, I want the takings before you go spreading your legs again and humping some poor yokel."
The colour returned to my cheeks in a rush as I felt them burn with embarrassment, I turned to go but Jasper touched my arm,
"He's an asshole. Don't go…"
It wasn't a demand or a even a request it was a plea and I faltered but then shook my head, it would be worse for me if I disobeyed Laurent and I wanted Jasper well away from him,
"Give me a two minutes."
I flitted quickly over to Laurent, able to move naturally now I was no longer encumbered by the cursed shoes. He scowled and held one hand out, clicking his fingers in irritation. I handed over the money from the evening and watched as he counted it slowly, once then again.
"This is it?"
I bobbed my head quickly, not daring to say a word,
"You're sure this is all? Because by Victoria's reckoning this is fifteen dollars short. Victoria is never wrong"
I held my hands firmly together to stop me wringing them with nerves knowing it would only make me look guilty when I had done nothing. I was frantically going over and over the nights events in my head when suddenly the penny dropped. Jasper. Victoria would have counted Jasper as a client when she heard the end of our conversation but I hadn't charged him. My voice quavered,
"Laurent there's been a mis-understandi…"
Before I had a chance to finish Laurent's fist hit me like a lightening strike catching me just under my eye. My head exploded with pain and bright stars filled my vision as I tried to stay on my feet.
"Oh I don't fucking think so."
I heard Jasper curse and come bolting over the grass fury evident in the sharp twist of his mouth,
"You really don't want to do that."
Seemingly from nowhere Laurent had produced a wicked looking knife and he tossed it lightly from one hand to the other before pointing it directly at Jasper, I heard Jasper's voice change, take on the velvety timbre of a Texan cowboy. I'd noticed it when he'd held me, safe in his arms, earlier in the evening only now it didn't sound sexy, it sounded dangerous filled with icy fury,
"Darlin' you wanna step outta the way, give us a little room to play?"
Was he joking or was he just insane? He was staring down the blade of a knife like it was nothing more than a child's replica toy wearing an expression of almost amused indifference. I tried to force some air into my constricted lungs to calm the tremors wracking my body, I couldn't allow this to happen,
"Enough!"
James' voice was as cold as steel and just as smooth as suddenly he was beside Laurent laying a restraining hand on his arm,
"We've got some trouble brewing over near the Freak Out, local kids and some outta town-ers by the looks of things. I want you backing me up. Now. And you" he glared at me with undisguised loathing "we'll deal with you later."
Jasper didn't move so much as a muscle until they had both walked away.
"OhGodohGodohGodohGod!"
I could barely stand I was shaking so hard and I heard Jasper swear again before he swept me up into his arms.
My visions weren't always brought on by touch, sometimes they just simply happened. Sometimes they were hours in the future, sometimes days or weeks. I never knew, I just had to ride out the storm and try to remember to keep breathing. What I did know was that if there was one waiting in the wings, waiting for fates idea of the right person, that special someone to touch me, then they hit me like a wrecking ball, and I mean…
H A R D!
I knew where I was, could feel his strength as he nursed me in his arms but if he spoke to me in that moment I never heard him. My mind was awash with images of us, this was our future together, and whilst his words were telling me only one thing my vision was letting me see everything.
His face is desolate.
"I have dreams y'know? The dreams… they're always about me" .
He smiles and tries to lighten the mood but his expression is filled with deep sorrow and he sees it isn't working,
"The worst ones are those from before. From when I was fighting. Sounds silly saying it out loud, that I was a…mercenary. Sounds almost like I was playing at being a soldier. Do you know what it means?"
He doesn't even pause to hear my reply
" 'A professional soldier hired for money or other reward to serve a foreign army'…That's not why I did it though. Christ I was so naïve. I got caught up in all this civil liberty stuff at college, really heavy shit and I think I just looked at it as a way of escaping. My sisters were grown up and safe and I think, in a way I needed the thrill, the danger. I'd lived so long in fear from…"
He hesitates and touches the scar on his neck, it looks like a bite mark, a perfect set of even teeth and I watch as something akin to contempt and then shame fills his eyes as he remembers her. I see flashes, see what she did to him and I feel my stomach turn, I want to retch but I can't. Then he clamps down on the those memories,
"…stuff, that this just felt like it was something I had to do. I was seventeen when I went away, seventeen. I was a fucking kid…"
He is farther away now and he sees a bright, bright light in a dank, chilly cell. He sits naked and beaten, paralysed with fear, and there is so much blood. He wonders if it can possibly all be his. He can hear with perfect clarity the guttural voices speaking a language he doesn't recognise and yet he knows they are asking him questions. How can he answer when he doesn't understand? He hears the bleak sound of flesh hitting flesh before the screaming begins. It is him. He hears his own voice calling out, begging for mercy. Then it is not him. It is others. Other men in other cells suffering other abuse.
"Hey where did you go?"
It is my soft voice that coaxes him back to reality and I press my lips to the palm of his hand as it rests tentatively against my cheek, he shakes his head,
"It doesn't matter darlin''.
But I already know. I have already seen and my heart breaks for him.
The images were slow to leave me and as they did I mourned for what he had lost.
