"Don't hurt them," I blurt out impulsively. Bill looks from me to Jack, appearing unsure of what to do.
"We don't want any trouble," Jack says to both of us, lifting his hands up in a gesture of innocence. "You'll have to go out there and explain the situation darlin'." I glance back to William, shuddering as our eyes meet.
"What'll happen to him?" I ask, not wanting to say his name out loud.
"We'll take him back to our facility, make sure he's locked up safe and can't hurt nobody else." Jack folds his arms, looking confident and ever so slightly satisfied by my new-found compliance. I gaze at William a while longer, wondering vainly if there would be any other hope for him, or whether he even deserves anything better, before finally I shrug, defeated and disillusioned. What other hope do serial killers have?
"Alright," I sigh heavily, "Let's get out there. I want to forget all of this." I glance down at the discarded photographs and swallow the bile that rises in my throat in response. "If I can."
As I make for the stairs, William begins to yell.
"You promised me you wouldn't leave me here! You promised! They'll kill me Ros, they'll kill me." I glance back over my shoulder as we ascend the stairs, and William's hate filled face crushed between the bars, his mouth all twisted with rage, is an image I know will stay with me for a very long time. "This is your fault, you stupid bitch! They'll kill-"
The slam of the basement door ends his stream of poisonous words. As soon as we step out it feels as though a massive weight is lifted from my shoulders and I feel relieved to be free of him, away from his hateful eyes. We emerge into the daylight and I feel Bill move closer to my side as I struggle to make my eyes adjust, blinking. As the glare from the sun subsides the whole Quileute pack comes into view, a massive group of fur and teeth, and I realise why Bill stepped closer. He's afraid, so much so that I can almost smell it one him. The pack, however, seems to mistake his proximity, that and his shotgun, for a threat and they begin to growl. Collectively it's an absolutely terrifying sound, for Bill at least. I know better than to be afraid. I've seen these overgrown pups at play, scratched their heads and playfully pulled on their tails.
One wolf leaps forwards from the rest, pawing madly at the ground as it growls, all its russet coloured fur standing on end, and then, without the pack, it begins to run towards us. Bill, panicked, lifts his shotgun in response, and as I'm yelling at him to put it down, recognition sparks somewhere in my brain.
"Jacob, no!" I shout, stepping directly in front of Bill just as he poises to leap. The colossal wolf hesitates, the rest of the pack becoming quiet, and I can see the confusion in his big brown eyes. Just seeing Jacob's humanity twinkling there behind them makes me start to grin inanely, regardless of the situation, and when I glance at Bill he's looking at me like some mad woman.
"It's okay Jake," I smile, reaching my hand out towards him, "There's a lot I need to explain, but these aren't the bad guys." Jacob's head inclines towards the short, bearded man as he regards him suspiciously, and I hear him take a long, deep sniff before he finally moves away and bridges the gap between us instead. He presses his muzzle into my hand, emitting a low, deep rumble from his chest and I can't hold back the happy laughter that starts to pour forth from my lips. He shoves his head against my stomach affectionately and instinctively I lean down and nestle my face into his fur, holding fistfuls of it possessively. He's back. He's really back. Warm and soft and real.
"If we're okay here," Bill interrupts, looking genuinely confused and uncomfortable with our behaviour, "I'll get back inside. We'll be gone by tonight, you won't hear from us again." Thank goodness. I remove my head from from Jacob's furry neck, leaving my hand there instead.
"Thank you for everything Bill," I say gratefully. He just nods and retreats inside without another word. As soon as he's gone the rest of the pack also disperses into the trees, leaving just Jacob and I, standing and staring at each other. After a beat, he pulls away and runs out of sight behind the house. For a second, I panic that he's leaving again, but then I remember his vanishing act when he phased before, and I realise that that's all his absence is for.
He emerges fully dressed and beaming, jogging towards me. I didn't think I'd forgotten his smile, I thought the memory of it was potent enough, but I was so wrong. It hits me like a train, flooring me completely and turning me into some gooey, girly mess as I smile back like a moron. He pulls my body close to him and wraps his arms right around me, his cheek resting on the top of my head and I feel my whole body relax against his, surrounded by his much missed heat, clutching at his t-shirt tightly.
"Rosalie," I hear him sigh against my hair. The sound of his rapid heartbeat is wonderfully comforting, and with every beat I feel the sadness I've felt during his absence being to slowly ebb away. He takes a gentle hold of my chin and tilts me face upward to look at him.
"How's your head?" he asks, inspecting the side of my face and wiping some of the blood away with his thumb.
"Not so bad," I smile, "Better now you're here." Oh Christ woman, cheesy or what? He just laughs. His gentle fingers start to wonder slowly down my arm, tickling.
"What about this?"
"That was all better a while ago." My reply causes him to frown and he makes a little 'hum' noise. He encloses my hand within his own and just looks at me intently for a few seconds, his dark eyes darting around the features of my face. Then he leans in to kiss me, and I feel my pulse start to gallop in excitement.
Suddenly, I hear William's voice in my head, jeering at me, calling me pathetic, and though it takes all my strength, and though it isn't what I want, I pull away very gently.
"Jake," I whisper as he rests his forehead against my own, his eyes portraying his concern at he gazes at me. "We have so much we need to talk about before we head down this road again." He squeezes my hand tight, pauses, then pulls away, sighing. He doesn't let go of my hand, though. He's just about to open his mouth to speak when the deafening bang of a firearm rings through the air. I immediately drop into a couch and Jacob curls his body around me defensively as three more shots fire, but by the second I've already figured out its not us that's in danger.
"Will!" I start to run back towards the house, mouth wide in horror, but before I can take more than a few steps Jacob is restraining me, picking me up off the ground as he did once before.
"It'll be too late," he tells me and as the realisation kicks in I become limp in his arms, all the fight falling out of me. Four silver bullets. Of course it's too late.
"He didn't deserve to die Jake," I whisper as he switches me around in his arms like a ragdoll, until I'm sitting across his arms, close to his chest. "He deserved locking away, alone and miserable and paying for what he did." Jacob starts to walk us away from the house, holding me so carefully you'd think I'm made of porcelain. I see him look at me out of the corner of my eye as I stare into space, and I can tell he's confused. "I promised that I wouldn't let them hurt him."
An unpleasant feeling starts to manifest deep in my stomach, and I soon realise that it's guilt that I'm feeling. Gut-wrenching, horrible remorse. Why do I feel so bad? William was sick and twisted and all kinds of wrong… but I promised. They lied to me. Who were they to judge if he should live or die for his crimes?
"It wasn't your fault," Jake soothes, but it does little to touch my feeling of nausea. I keep staring straight ahead, not really seeing or hearing the things around me. However, when Jacob's house comes into view in the distance, I can't contain my horror.
"They were practically next door," I gasp. Please let them take William's body with them when they leave. They have to bury him, surely? I can't bear the thought of his body just left there in that cage. My whole body begins to shake and shiver at the horrible images that flash in front of my eyes, and I feel Jacob pull me tighter to his chest, squeezing.
"I'll warm you up," he reassures. All I can do is nod limply in reply. I don't think I have the strength to explain that these shivers are coming from my insides, somewhere that even Jacob's warmth can't seem to reach. Jacob holds me in silence the rest of the way, kicking open the front door to his home and carrying me across the threshold. Sam is already sat on Jacob's sofa waiting for us, turning and looking at us anxiously as the door swings open.
"Rosalie, I hope you're not hurt," he says, rising from his seat, face wrinkled in concern.
"Nothing too serious," I smile lamely as Jacob places me gently on the sofa and then takes the seat next to me. He wraps his arm around my shoulder, pulling me close, trying to calm my frantic shaking.
"I know you're probably tired, but I need to know what happened in there. The pack is anxious, to say the least." He leans against the fireplace, arms folded, his expression expectant but patient. The dread his request inflicts upon me makes my throat feel so tight and dry that I almost choke. I don't want to remember. I don't want to talk about it. I want to forget. I think Jacob must sense my reluctance, because he reaches out and touches my cheek, turning me to face him, looking deep in my eyes.
"It's okay, honey. I'm here now, and nothing is ever going to hurt you again." His voice is fierce with promise, his gaze intense. Oh Jacob. The hurt is on the inside. I pull my eyes away from his, back to Sam, take a deep breath, and begin.