CHAPTER FOURTEEN

I was up to bat and trying my hardest to focus on the game as Dad pitched me the ball. As it came hurling at me, I imagined it as the face of James. With the mental image, I successfully hit it harshly and ran my butt around the bases. Apparently, I did a good job. Before I knew it, I was back at home plate. I was acutely aware of Emmett's high fives as I watched Alice's face glaze over.

"It's time." She said.

And with those two words, she shifted the entire mood of everyone present. The family immediately assembled into their agreed positions, me being in the back. I felt bad being in the back, but I had been outvoted.

So as they all shielded around me, we awaited the forthcoming of my nightmare.

Edward had asked me why I was worried, seeing as my gift is mental manipulation. His theory made enough since. Why couldn't I just think them away, and eventually they'd follow suit? Because my powers aren't forever. I could change someone's mind about a decision while they're making it, but I couldn't keep them away forever. Alice was right- thinking them away this time would only lead to having to do it again in the future.

It was an agonizing 4 seconds before I caught a glimpse of James. The second I saw his evil grin, or smelled his sickening scent I tensed. And as I tensed, Whitney started kicking. As if she knew something bad was happening and was growing restless. She had no idea that it was because I was about to take part in killing her own flesh and blood. That thought stopped me in my tracks.

Could I do that to my child?

Could I do away with the pathetic excuse of a man that gave her to me?

He had put me through a lot, but he also gave me Whitney. And someday she would ask me about her father.

What would I tell her? Would I say that Edward was her father? Would she believe that?

Could I look into the eyes of my daughter and tell her I killed him? Would she ever forgive me?

As I had been thinking through this moral dilemma, the others had taken action. Rosalie, Alice, and Esme were fighting Victoria while Edward, Emmett, Carlisle, and Daddy all fought off James, who was trying to get to me as I awkwardly stood there staring at him. I could tell he only had a few moments left unless I did something. Daddy and Edward were seething and weren't giving him any mercy. Before I could logically think through what I was doing, I yelled out a shocking, "Stop!"

The guys instantly stopped their attack on James, but still held him in a vice grip. "Bella. This guy is finally getting what he deserves." Said a confused Emmett.

I looked James in the eyes as I loudly responded to their confused faces. "You're right. He does deserve death of the most excruciating nature. He's put me through hell, and there's nothing I want more than to see him go through what I went through." I paused and took a breath. "But he is Whitney's father. If I let him die like this, could I ever tell her that with pride? Could I tell my daughter the fate of her dad?" I looked at Daddy. "I know how important a father can be, Dad. Even when I thought you were gone, you had an enormous impact on my life. You're my daddy. You mean the world to me."

In the middle of my monologue, I was interrupted by one very obnoxious James. "What exactly am I hearing, Bells? You still have that rotten baby? That's impossible. It can't be mine. You must've gotten pregnant by someone else, you ignorant whore."

Daddy, Edward, and Emmett all became enraged and started to attack him again but I mentally made them stop. James's words hurt, but this wasn't for me. This was for Whitney.

"And why are you calling this douche here Daddy? Your father died, Bells. He went to war and someone killed him. Someone looked into his eyes and shot him. He probably deserved it too, the cocky bastard. Or have you forgotten that? It wouldn't surprise me. You never were very smart. But you always have been pretty."

I couldn't take it anymore. I couldn't stand him saying those things about my father. I lost it. "You will NOT talk about MY DADDY that way!" And with that, I leapt towards him. My anger was so strong that I knocked him out of the arms of his captives. I ripped his arms out of their sockets. I tore his hair from his head and stuffed it down his throat. I pinched off his nipples and crushed them into dust. I ripped out every single eyelash individually and forced him to pull out his own teeth. Then I looked at his hands. Those hands. Those hands that had slapped me, pushed me, touched me. The hands that broke my legs and tore into my intimate areas. The hands that made me feel worthless and dirty. Used and unwanted. I took those hands into mine and used them to rip his head from his body. Then I flung every single piece of him into the fire that was steadily burning Victoria's body.

I stepped back and let out a tearless sob. I felt arms encircle me, but I didn't turn to see to whom they belonged. I just stared at the fire as it burned my past away.

What did I just do?