Author's Note: Here I am again, trudging along to the end of this story. Here's the next chapter! Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight.
Chapter 12
Bella
Edward seems deep in thought throughout the entire day. I remain quiet, not because I don't have a million questions, but because I don't want to interrupt his thinking. He must be preoccupied too. He's been after James since his first kill and has no doubt been frustrated at his flawless crimes. This is Edward's chance to capture him. He must be wondering how to do it in the best way possible and still bring me out alive.
But as the hours go by, I'm getting anxious. I'm not stupid. I have a gist of what's going on. And I have intuition. James has evaded being identified until I came along and ruined everything for him. He's smart. He's evasive and cunning. By this time, he probably has shed the appearance of a shaggy dog and changed clothes. The James I met at the bar may have been slimy and unpleasant in my eyes, but to the eyes of most others, he was charming and used his words well. He's probably halfway to me already, if not already in Chicago.
I'm coming for you.
The dish I'm putting away slips through my fingers. It misses the sink and hits the counter, sliding off. It seems like I'm watching it crash into a million pieces in slow motion while his slithering voice whispers in my ear. I'm coming for you.
I can't even bring myself to jump at the loud crack as the dish breaks into unrecognizable pieces. I just stare at the white porcelain pieces, not even registering the pain on my bare feet as several of them bounce against my skin.
I feel as though I'm sinking into a hole in the bottom. Or perhaps quicksand. It's sucking me in quickly as I struggle to breathe. To survive. He's grabbing onto my ankles. It's like he's saying he won't go down alone. That he'll at least take me with him, because it's unfair. A cloud of gloom hangs over my head and my future grows dimmer and darker. I can't see myself standing on a road anymore.
Edward runs into the kitchen, alarmed. "Bella!" His eyes fall to the broken pieces of the dish scattered across the kitchen floor. Then, he looks back up at my blank stare. He holds up his hands. "Bella, don't move."
I just stare at the broken pieces. Somehow, they seem familiar. Relatable. There's something about those sharp weapons that remind me of my life right now. I'm walking on eggs. Floating through space. Disconnected. Alone. How did my life sink to the ground so fast?
"Bella?" His voice is anchoring me again. I blink. My foggy brain gets a little clearer. "Bella, will you please promise me that you won't move? I don't want you to get hurt."
I raise my head slightly to meet his green eyes. They're full of concern. He doesn't trust me. He thinks I'll hurt myself. I nod.
"Let me clean this up, and then I'll help you into the living room. Stay still, Bella."
Edward gets out of a broom and a dustpan. Carefully and efficiently, he begins to sweep the little white pieces into the dustpan. He keeps up a light conversation to keep me from moving. Or so he thinks. "You must be feeling stuffy," he says. "I'm sorry we can't go out right now. I promise you'll be able to wander around freely when all this is over."
There it is again. You. Just 'you'. No us. No we. Just me. Only Bella. No Edward. Strike two. My cloud of doom grows grayer and thicker. Layers upon layers.
"You'll be able to see Alice and Charlie again," he continues. He's nearly finished with the sweeping. "And Jasper too. You said you love provoking him with wrong history facts. You can do that again. Argue, laugh, cry. Go back to your normal lifestyle." He smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "And you said you missed your mom. You should get in touch with her afterward. Catch up."
You. You, you, you. No we. Anger and fear come rising together from deep within my gut, overflowing out of my heart and exploding out of my mouth. Strike three.
"What about you?"
Edward looks up warily, knowing that I'm upset from my desperate voice. "Bella?"
"What about you?" I demand. "Why aren't you in the picture? Why isn't there a 'we'? Why is it that when you're trying to comfort me, it's always about me and not us? Are you planning on never seeing me again after all this is over? If you're so confident this is going to be over and James is going to be captured and I'm going to be safe, then why the fuck isn't there a 'we'?" My voice rises into a shout as I say the last words.
I'm so damn angry. Don't our words mean something? Do I say 'I love you' to every guy I meet? Fuck, no. Does he say 'I love you' to every girl he meets? What about that night we shared? Is that nothing but a fling? Just a distraction for the both of us, to take our minds off of the real threat hanging over our heads?
"What do I mean to you, Edward?" At this point, I'm not even trying to stop my tears. I'm frustrated, damn it, and I need to let it out. "Don't I mean anything to you? I thought you said you loved me."
Edward drops the dustpan and broom on the counter and moves toward me, looking stricken. He reaches for me, but I take a step back. "Bella, you mean everything to me. You know that."
"Then tell me. Why is there never a 'we' in your words? Why is it that every time you try to comfort me, you tell me I'll be able to go back to my normal life? Nothing about this is normal, Edward! Even after you catch James and I get to go back to Seattle, nothing is going to return to the way it used to be! Because I've changed. This experience has changed me, and you've changed me. My normal lifestyle before all this doesn't have you in it! I need you. I don't want everything to go back to normal! What I want and need is for you to be in my life, now and after all this is over! But why the hell are you not saying that you'll be there for me?"
As I speak, my mind flashes back to the past. My boring life of work and only work. Alice and Jasper, and my father, Charlie. That's it. Boring. Bearable. Repetitive. Nothing special. I fast forward to the past few weeks. Feeling useless. Nightmares. But Edward was there. Rooting me to the ground, keeping me anchored to reality. His sparkling green eyes, his crooked smile. His touches and flirtatious manner. His patience with my tantrums. Every day was different. Unpredictable.
My life before was boring, but bearable. Now, my life without Edward will be empty and lifeless. That's how much everything has changed. It's not a matter of going back to a life of normalcy. It's about how I'm going to live it with people I love. And if Edward isn't there, he might as well stop protecting me from James and just leave.
"Bella..." Edward looks frustrated too, running his fingers through his already messy hair. He's finally opening up. "I'm not the right man for you. You've already experienced the most traumatic event anyone can ever go through. You've seen something terrible, which will affect you for the rest of your life."
He stares at me with agonized eyes. And I know: He's been considering it too. Very seriously. But his line of thinking and my thoughts run parallel. They run together, but they're different. They can never touch. We don't agree when it comes to what we think should be right for us and our relationship.
"With me, it'll be a hundred times worse." He whispers, communicating his pain and sticking daggers into my heart. "What I do for a living is dangerous. The people I deal with won't hesitate to hurt me, and those around me whom I care about. My assignments are lethal. I'll go off on one and I may never return. I might come home bloody and injured, or worse, dead. Is that what you want?"
I inhale sharply. He's putting it harshly – bluntly – so I can understand the risks. I do. I already have considered all this when I realized I fell in love with him. But how does he not understand? How can he not understand that I love all of him, even all the risks and danger that comes with him as a package? If that's not love, then what is?
"That's not what I want," he says fiercely. "I already told you I don't care whether I live or die. I've already come to terms with the fact that I might go down fighting when I committed myself to this job. But I fell in love with you. And that means I worry about you, constantly, every day. How would you take my injuries? How would you deal with my death? I can't see you getting hurt, Bella. Not on account of me. I'm not going to be the one to hurt you."
"So you're just going to run away? You said you're good at your job. That it includes not getting yourself killed. Don't you trust yourself to stay alive? Don't you trust yourself to stay by my side so I don't get hurt?"
Edward explodes, "You don't understand! There's always going to be that possible threat hanging over our heads. I'm always going to be wondering when I'm going to rip apart our happiness – your happiness. How can I take all that away from you? Possibilities. A chance to be happy with someone else, a chance to have a normal life. Staying with me won't be normal, Bella. Life will never be normal for you if you want me around!"
I stare at him, exasperated. I don't understand? No, it's him who doesn't understand that I don't care. Who cares if life is normal? As long as he's in my life, I'll deal with everything that comes along with it. Isn't that what love is supposed to be? Isn't that what sacrifice is? How will we ever have the opportunity to love each other if we worry about what might happen in the future without even living through it?
"I don't care," I tell him. "If you're by my side, I don't care about any of those things. I'll deal with that when it comes along. How can I love you if I don't risk all that? It's all worth it, to me."
"Bella...!" At my suddenly calm, reasonable tone, all the fight flies out of him. "You don't know what it's like. The things you'll have to give up, just to be with me."
"So you'll just give up before we can even start?" I demand. "Am I not worth anything to you? It's so easy for you to give me up, is it? That's how trivial I am to you?"
It's unfair to provoke him that way. I know he loves me. I see it every time he looks at me. It's in his eyes. It's in his touch. He can't live without me either. But I'm so frustrated. I have to make him see. If he can't live without me, then why is he saying all these things? The Edward I know doesn't know how to give up. There's no way he'll let me go. No chance in hell.
Sure enough, the pain reflects in his eyes. "How can you say that?" he says in almost a pleading voice. "You know how much you mean to me."
"Prove it," I challenge. "Make sure I understand you'll never leave my side after all this is over. Don't say you'll leave me."
"I don't have a choice!"
That shuts me up. That hurts a lot more than any of the things he's said so far. It stings. It's like he's twisting all those daggers he pierced into my heart earlier.
"You don't have a choice?" I whisper, my lips barely moving. "You don't have a choice? This is a choice, what you're saying. The decision you've made, that you'll leave me after all this is over. That's your choice."
Edward stares at me in shock. I don't think he's realized how hard this is for me, probably more than it is for him.
"It's easy for you to say," I continue. "Because all you have to do is leave me behind. But I'm the one that has to deal with your choice. I have to face the rejection. The PTSD, the depression – what, you think I can do that without your help? I'm sure I can. Eventually, I'll probably endure through it. But you can be damn sure I'll be fucking miserable through it all. And I'll make sure to resent you for it."
I brush past him and head upstairs, leaving him standing there blankly. I make it to my room before I throw myself on the bed – Sleeping Beauty style – and start crying. Maybe I gave him enough of a scare for him to change his mind. Or perhaps I only solidified his resolve. All I know right now is that all this protection shit will have been for nothing if Edward decides to leave me for my own good. Because then, what was it all for?
Edward
I think I hear her crying. No, I know I hear her crying. Her sobs are muffled, but I can hear them just fine. It tears me apart. I haven't properly pushed her away yet and I've already made her cry.
Her words are piercing and painful. What I thought was best for the both of us, perhaps it's not the answer. She's made it clear to me that I'm only thinking of myself, thinking of what's best for me and not her.
It's easy for you to say. Because all you have to do is leave me behind.
I wince, clutching the counter to stay upright. It's all I can do to keep it together. To concentrate on right now to keep from falling into despair.
But you can be damn sure I'll be fucking miserable through it all.
She's made it clear she's made her decision. She won't live without me. Whether or not I'm there, she'll have me in her life. If I'm there, fine. If I'm not, she'll undoubtedly do her best to remember me
And I'll make sure to resent you for it.
"Fuck!" I grip the ends of the counter, squeezing my eyes shut. I'm hurting her. I'm making her cry. What the hell is wrong with me?
My phone buzzes against my leg. With a frustrated sigh, I take it out and answer without seeing who it is. "Hello?"
"Agent Cullen," a smooth baritone rings out. "You're working mighty hard to catch me, aren't you?"
I feel like I've been doused with ice water. My hand closes into a fist and my jaw clenches.
"Keller," I growl. "Where the fuck are you?"
He chuckles. "All in good time, Agent. All in good time."
I stride quickly over to the kitchen extension phone and dial Emmett. We have to trace him. If he's on a phone, it means he's on a ground. Either he's never gotten on a plane or he's landed and already here. Which is it?
"Do you know how annoying it was to see one of you every few feet in Seattle?" Keller continues. "It was so damn difficult to get to Lauren in broad daylight."
Meanwhile, the call connects and Emmett answers faintly. "Hello?"
Since I can't answer directly, I tap on the receiver instead. A series of taps and sliding my fingernail across the receiver. Ongoing. Repeating. Morse code for trace the call. It's a familiar code for the both of us, a pattern we've learned to recognize over the years since we use it so often.
For good measure, I make sure Emmett hears me say, "You mean Lauren Mallory, the woman you killed most recently?"
"Rose!" I hear Emmett call. "Trace the caller on Edward's cell right now!"
"Come on, Cullen," Keller says. "That's not fair. It's her fault she didn't know who I was. Some people just don't watch the news. It was almost too easy to seduce her. An easy target."
"You're a sick bastard," I breathe.
He laughs. "Are you talking about the message I left for Bella?"
"Don't fucking say her name," I hiss. "You don't deserve to."
"Oh, yes. I hear you've made her your little pet? How's the fucking? Good?"
I feel my temper rising. I struggle to remain calm. "Shut it."
"She's such a soft little thing. So breakable. A shame she saw through me. I would have loved to fuck her. I envy you that, Cullen."
"Shut the fuck up!" I curse. I breathe hard, seeing red. "You'd better fucking run, Keller, because when I catch you, I'm going to kill you myself. You hear me? I'll fucking kill you!"
"One more minute," Emmett says. "Edward, come on, keep him talking."
I don't need to. Keller speaks again, indifferent to my threats. "My, my. You are partial to her, aren't you? How exciting for me. I love beating people at their own games. I'll tell you why I called. I wanted to ask you about dear sweet Bella. Tell me, is she waiting for me?"
I don't reply. I wait to see what he'll say. Come on, come on, come on...
"Thirty more seconds," Emmett states. "Keep him talking."
"Will you give her my message, Agent? Tell her that I'll be there real soon. That I'll fuck her good and pay her back for all the grief she caused me."
"Fifteen seconds."
I'm shaking with rage. I want nothing more than to pummel him into nothing. Pulverize him into pieces and make sure he never touches Bella.
"She probably saw that, right?" Keller says. "The show I put on just for her? Lauren was a warning for Bella. Just a sneak peek, you know, of what'll happen to her soon enough."
"Five."
"I'll see you real soon, Agent." Click.
"Shit!"
I close my eyes, gritting my teeth. I hold the receiver to my ear. "Emmett?"
"He hung up too early. Two more seconds and we had him! Shit. Fuck!"
"Get out of the way, Emmett," I hear Rosalie snap. Her voice comes on loud and strong. "Edward, what did he say?"
"Another warning," I say. "A countdown, almost. Letting her know he's almost here."
Rosalie sighs. "Please change your mind, Edward. It's dangerous for her to stay there. Take her and get the hell out of there."
"Where are you guys?" I interrupt.
"We're about to head to the airport. We'll be there in less than six hours."
"Call me." I hang up and run upstairs. I pause momentarily outside of Bella's room, where I can still hear her crying. She hasn't heard my conversation with Keller. I plan on keeping her in the dark. She doesn't need anymore things to worry about.
I move on, heading straight to my room. I kneel next to the bag full of weapons and pull out a Glock 19. I load it fully and tuck it behind me. I'm not moving around unarmed anymore. We're so close. It's only a matter of hours now. Whoever plays their cards right gains the upper hand. I'm not taking any chances, not with Bella's life nor mine.
AN: Very close. Very, very close. Review! Let me know what you think!
