Chapter 14- Daddy Issues
Author's Notes: May I first humbly beg you forgiveness for my long absence? Let's kiss and make up (figuratively of course, lol) How about a chapter today, and another tomorrow. One of which will be from a much unexpected perspective? Good. I hope you'll like it. I had writers' block for a while, but I always knew exactly where I wanted to go with the story. I guess I was a bit worried about how you guys might receive it. It's….unconventional, to say the least. I really want to hear your honest opinions. Oh and guys, I've missed you! = )
P.S.: I give a little insight into Edward's mind and childhood, so he's not as hardcore in this chapter. I think it's a bit more tolerable.
Edward's Perspective
As I lay in the empty holding cell, I flash one of the police women a crooked smile. She has to be about late-30's, "vintage pussy" so to speak, kind of mousy looking, but not unattractive.
The bitch flushed fire-engine red and looked as if she might faint on the spot. I snort with amusement. I've just been booked for attempted rape, assault, and unlawful entry, and this woman, who surely knows this, is batting her eyelashes like I'm the answer to all her prayers. Fucking women.
As I lay my head against the wall, I feel a sharp pain where Swan tried to rip my face off. I have to fight back a smile.
Just thinking about her calling me a bitch in that sweet, soft voice, was enough to lighten my dour mood. I'd underestimated her, a poor mistake on my part. Fear and desperation will make a person do extreme things. I assumed that I had instilled enough fear to keep her compliant. Instead the fear made her cavalier. She's not the fragile ice princess I attempt to portray in my debasement of her. In fact she has brass and resilience that I find….shoot me now…..Strangely attractive.
I groan loudly. What the fuck is happening to me? I don't want to be challenged by a fucking woman. They're weak and run purely on emotion. I mean that weepy look on her face when I mentioned that fucking Indian kid. It was like I just made her watch Steel Magnolias or some shit. Fucking pathetic and illogical. She sat up bolt straight, whereas a minute ago she was a shake a way from an epileptic fit, and threatened me. Her attacker! If I'd actually meant to kill her, she would have been dead at that moment. It's illogical shit like that, that turns your run of the mill robberies into murders. Or a simple carjacking into a double homicide.
But for a second, just a very quick fucking second, I wished that someone felt that strongly about me….to lose all logic.
I knew one of the officer's had phoned my mother with news of my arrest, yet I can't say I was surprised that she hadn't bailed me out. That bitch was probably throwing back margaritas in celebration, and Alice was probably supplying her with the ice. My mother despises me, almost as much as I loathe her. But like I said, fear is potent.
She recognizes the same demons that made my father beat her within an inch of her life, peeking out from behind these eyes. I see it in her face every time she risks a glance at me; her look a strange mixture of horror, disgust, and pity.
As if I needed her fucking pity! It's she who is the piteous one. If my mother ever in fact had a backbone, my father had beaten it out of her long ago. Right along with 3 unborn children and the majority of her adult teeth.
I used to cry for that bitch. I used to sob into my pillow and pray that her shrill screams would end. I would find spare change on the way home from school and save it in a piggy bank for her. "Our getaway money". We'd leave daddy behind and then she'd smile again. But this time there wouldn't be wounds caked with blood surrounding her full lips, or red coating her white teeth. It would just be us, together and happy.
But in reality that bitch was weak, like all women. She went back for seconds, and thirds, and one hundredths. And after he'd beat her to a bloody pulp, jerking her back and forth like a ragdoll, they'd fuck like rabbits. Like rabbits on crank, would be more accurate.
She'd come out in her cheap robe, with black eyes and busted lips, humming like a goddamn psycho.
That was when I decided she deserved everything she got. If in her warped mind she thought this shit was any semblance to love, so-fucking-be-it.
I found myself craving a connection, any connection at all, with my father. So when he would fly into one of his rages, be it for a broken dish or an empty stove, instead of running and hiding, I stayed and observed.
I would watch each blow licked her pink flesh. Her wide cinnamon eyes darting restlessly around the room.
He was almost like an animal; it was frightening, and intriguing. To be free in that manner, no inhibitions or moral dilemmas, was an extremely alluring thought then. It still is.
"Cullen! Your mother just called to say you'll be bailed out shortly," yells a scrawny officer.
"Tell her to get the molasses out of her ass and get here, now!" I growl.
I can feel disapproving eyes glaring at me, but I don't give a fuck. This shit was driving me crazy.
As I lay there, my eyes watching the ceiling, I hear whispering. I lean up slightly to hear a little better.
"They found two dead hikers I heard. Both completely covered in blood, but not a drop of it left in em'." Says a gruff voice. "Bullshit." Replies an incredulous female voice. "God's honest. Coroner filed the report this morning." The male says in a stern voice. The woman makes a clucking noise and I hear them move away to continue their hushed conversation.
Well, that was fucking weird.
Just as I start to lie back in the bed, I hear my mother's dry voice. Confirming that my freedom has arrived, I jerk up with a grin.
The jailer opens my cell, but is wearing a look of barely controlled contempt. He would probably give his left nut to spend some unmonitored "quality time" with me. But I happily flip him the bird and grab my shit. Not even bothering to waste my breath on my clueless mother.
As I shrug into my jacket, I hear them rattling on about court dates and restraining orders, but I push past them and out the door.
"Edward!" Where are you going? The car is parked over there!" My mother calls out.
She's attempting to keep pace with me as I walk towards the street.
"I'm walking home, I'll see you later." I reply dismissively.
"But, they said-
"Fuck what they said! I said, I'll see you later!" I snap.
She backs down immediately. Weak bitch.
I trudge along the deserted street, noticing all the shops look closed for the night.
As I'm walking, I hear a loud rustling in the trees.
Panic grips me. I look around wildly, trying to assess the potential threat.
But after standing still for what seemed like an eternity, there was only silence.
I give myself a mental shake. Man the fuck up Ed.
As I'm turning the corner, a figure appears out of nowhere.
My initial instinct is to run….fast. But my baser instinct is telling me that would be a huge mistake.
The figure begins to approach slowly. It's movement is very graceful, very feline. Very predator.
I begin to make out a face; it's a blond guy, average height and build. And he's grinning a face splitting grin. It should relieve me, but it makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
He's getting even closer and I notice he has….OH SHIT!
Crimson red eyes.
"Oh God", I mumble.
"No, James will suffice." His smile stretching impossibly wider.