A/N: Well, today we say goodbye to a beloved friend. Yes, my Netbook has finally bitten the dust to the point where he is no longer fix-able. Rest in peace, Kilroy.
On a happier note, the first two chapters of "Lullaby" are up, and with the second chapter I included a contest. If you can guess Bella's secret (which is NOTHING like her secret in this story) before the next chapter goes up, you get your choice of a lemony oneshot just for you, or the ACAP outtake where Bella leaves Mason on the Cullen doorstep. And this time I'm throwing it open to any winners, not just the first one.
All standard disclaimers apply.
As Children After Play
Bella's hand shook, and the knife she was holding clattered to the floor. She sighed, glad that she hadn't stabbed herself accidentally, and bent to retrieve it. Ever since returning to Charlie's house after leaving Mason on the Cullens' doorstep she'd been jittery and uncomfortable, waiting for Charlie to come home. She had no idea if he already knew she'd been out of school, or why, but he'd find out at some point and she knew she'd be in for it then. Briefly she toyed with the idea of running away, but she had very little money and nowhere to go. Returning to the Cullens just wasn't an option, though she missed them all with a gut-wrenching ache that pulled at her heart in a way she'd never before experienced. They'd had to have found Mason by now, and that meant they had her note. And if they had her note, they knew everything. They knew all of her secrets now. As much as she wanted to believe that her past didn't matter, that they would welcome her back no matter what had happened to her before, she couldn't do it. She couldn't make herself believe that it was true. She trusted that they would take care of the baby - Rose and Esme would see to that. But she did not feel that she deserved the same kind of affection. Not now that they knew the truth.
The door slammed open and Bella dropped the knife again, her trembling doubling as she heard Charlie's heavy, booted footsteps. He was muttering under his breath, and he didn't even stop to take his jacket off before he stormed into the kitchen. Bella pressed her back against the counter, color draining from her face as her father came into view.
He stared at her for a long moment, then at the knife on the ground. "Pick it up," he ordered.
Bella did, wincing as she forced her sore, abused body to bend. She had to grab onto the counter to help herself back up: her muscles ached and did not want to obey.
"Now give it to me."
It was a small, serrated paring knife that she'd been using to debone a fish from the freezer. Though small, the blade was sharp, and Bella flinched as she reluctantly handed it over to Charlie. He toyed with it, playing the tip against his callused thumb as he eyed her.
"You really are something, Bells," he said, shaking his head. "Today was just not the day to fuck with me. I was at work all day, then up all night, then at work again because of this damn break-in at the bank. You knew that, because you spent the night at Billy's. Now, tell me why exactly I have to come home and punish you for skipping school today?"
He took a step toward her and Bella tried to back away but she was pressed against the counter and had nowhere to go. Light from the overhead fixture glinted off the knife. It was still afternoon and she had not particularly expected Charlie home yet, but as the police chief he seemed to set his own rules. She shook as he took another step toward her, the knife in his hand.
"You listen to me, little girl. You're still not forgiven for leaving. I left you explicit instructions to be at school today with a smile on your face, to show the Cullens that their suspicions were wrong. Did you or did you not remember what I told you?"
"I remembered," Bella whispered.
"Then tell me why I got a call from your school today, informing me that you weren't there? And why, when I called Billy, he said that Jacob wasn't at school either?"
"Jacob hardly ever goes to school, and Billy doesn't care," Bella whispered. She knew her poor attempt at distraction wouldn't keep her safe long, but she didn't quite know yet what to do when Charlie demanded to know where she'd been today. She was a terrible liar, and knew it. They'd managed with the social worker only because her fear worked in her favor. She was so afraid of Charlie's wrath, and that fear was so real, that it disguised the lie in her words. But Charlie was used to seeing her afraid. He would know the instant she lied to him. Which meant she had a choice: either tell the truth about what she'd done, or refuse to give him an explanation. Both would make him irate. Bella had no idea which route was safest.
"I don't give a fuck about Jacob's school habits," Charlie said, and he reached forward and grabbed her face roughly, forcing her to look up at him. "You tell me now, girl! Where were you today, and what did you do?"
Staring into Charlie's black eyes was the most frightening thing Bella had ever done. She swallowed thickly, and made her choice. Lying wouldn't help her, and refusing to tell would only prolong the inevitable. Mason was safe with the Cullens, and the paperwork was signed by a judge. Charlie couldn't do anything to him now. Still trembling, she pulled her head free, feeling where his fingers had pressed so hard that they left little red throbbing marks. Gathering up every last bit of courage she could muster, she stared at Charlie and said, quietly, "I went to Olympia."
"Oh? And what, may I ask, did you do there?" His voice was quietly mocking, and Bella could see that he saw her as no threat whatsoever.
"I tricked Jake into signing adoption forms," she said, hoping that lying about tricking him was enough to keep him out of trouble. "I saw Mason's social worker, and talked to a judge. He's free."
For a moment it looked as if the chief of police could not process what Bella had said. But then his face turned purple, and Bella felt her body flying as he grabbed her and heaved her across the room. She crashed into the little dining table, and an edge hit her back. Air whooshed out of her lungs, and her entire body lit with pain. She collapsed, gasping, only to find herself hoisted to her feet as Charlie grabbed her shirt and hauled her up. "Where is he?" he demanded, and flecks of saliva flew from his mouth onto her face. She winced as he shook her harshly, her head snapping back and forth. "What did you do with that little bastard?"
"He's safe," she repeated through gritted teeth.
Charlie swore and dropped her. Bella fell to the floor again, her legs unable to support her weight. She attempted to crawl away, but before she could do more than try to struggle to her knees, Charlie's booted foot connected with her leg. She cried out, dropping and curling around herself, tucking her head as close to her stomach as she could get, using her arms to protect the most vital parts of her body. He kicked her shin, then turned and landed several hard kicks to her already-injured backside. She yelled as the violent meeting of boot with flesh tore open scabs, and she felt hot blood begin to slowly seep again. Charlie kept up a string of curses as he grabbed her hair and pulled hard.
Bella forced herself to follow him, to avoid her hair being torn from her scalp. He hauled her back into the garage and dropped her to the cold cement floor. Still swearing about how ungrateful she was, Charlie cleared off a bottom storage shelf by throwing everything out of his way. He grabbed a hammer and some nails and scrap pieces of plywood and hammered the wood to the sides of the shelf, creating a dark little cubby only open on the front. Charlie scrabbled around for the handcuffs that had been left in the garage, but he couldn't find them. Still swearing, he pulled another set from his jacket and locked Bella's hands behind her back again.
Bella stared at the tiny cubby made with the plywood and shelf. It didn't look big enough for her to fit in there, but she had no idea what else he might try to do with it. And sure enough, he grabbed her shoulder and forced her closer.
"No, Charlie," she whimpered, not sure how she was ever going to fit in there. "I won't fit!"
"I'll make you," he replied, his voice clipped, and he tried to shove her inside. Bella's ankle scraped painfully along the unfinished edge of plywood, and she hissed as he forced her in on her knees. She had to bend down, stretching her shoulders painfully and knocking her fingers against the top of the low box. Even then her bare feet didn't fit, and Charlie shoved at them, breaking open the thin skin around her ankles as he forced her into the cubby. She whimpered, her box almost too tight for her to breathe as she huddled inside at a strange angle. Her head was twisted to the side and she couldn't straighten her neck; already she felt pain lancing through her tendons as her muscles were stretched and bunched in ways they were not meant to. Her back was forced hard against the ceiling of the box, and she could feel each individual stinging scrape along the knobs of her spine.
"Now," Charlie said, breathing heavily from the exertion and leaning on a bigger piece of plywood, "you are staying in there until you decide to tell me where that bastard of yours is, and you agree to fix it so I get him back."
"You can't!" Bella whimpered. "He's already been adopted!"
Charlie kicked her in the side, shoving his foot into her cubby and forcing her painfully against the back of it. "How very unfortunate for you, then." And he took the bigger piece of plywood, blocking off the opening. Bella breathed heavily, perilously close to hyperventilating as the light disappeared and she heard the dull thud of Charlie's hammer strokes vibrating through her prison. Nobody knew where she was. Nobody cared. The Cullens would never see her again, but neither would they come looking. They had Mason to care for, now.
But at least he was safe, she tried to tell herself.
It was small comfort as Charlie left the garage and the darkness and quiet set in.
Edward glared at the little white house. He'd snuck to the front windows and peered inside, and saw Charlie on the couch, fully engrossed in a basketball game. That was two hours ago, and Charlie had yet to either fall asleep in place or go upstairs to bed. If Edward had still been human, he knew he'd nearly have a heart attack by now. From outside he could not be entirely sure whether Bella was in that house, and the suspense was slowly killing him. He needed to see her, to touch her, to hear her heartbeat and know that she was okay. Nothing else mattered. Only his deep respect for Carlisle held him in place, waiting until the fucking chief of police fell asleep before breaking into that damnable house once again.
Bella's secret had unnerved him, yes, but it hadn't altered his feelings for her. If anything, it made them stronger. She was so afraid and yet so courageous, and it made his silent heart constrict painfully when he thought about how terrified his sweet girl must have been to stand up to her father like she had. Charlie would not be pleased when he learned what she had done, if he hadn't learned it already. The thought that he could have already punished her and Bella lay somewhere in that house, hurt and alone, almost pulled Edward from his spot. But there was nothing he could do until Charlie fell asleep. He just couldn't risk exposing his family's secret, no matter what. Though it was useless, he wished he had Jasper's skill right about now. A wave of contentment would be just the ticket to make Charlie sleep. But, then, Edward supposed that he probably would be unable to dredge up enough happy feelings to complete the task. Not the way he was feeling right now.
And the...baby? Edward really didn't know what to think about that. He believed Bella when she said she didn't want it and couldn't deal with the pressure of raising a child. She was a careful, responsible, loving young girl, but it was just asking too much of her to expect her to be saddled the rest of her life with the product of a brutal attack. He swallowed angrily, forcing venom into his stomach. Just the thought of someone touching Bella against her will made the poison flow, made the monster inside him scream for revenge. He couldn't get the picture out of his mind of Bella, his sweet Bella, on a hotel bed, crying for a faceless man to stop, just stop, and let her be.
It wasn't fair. Edward had known for a very long time that the world was an unfair place, and he didn't even try to understand it anymore. But, christ, this was too much. Way, way too much for any one person to handle on her own, and it just wasn't fair. If it were up to him, he'd probably give the baby back to the state. Tell them to find it another home, one far, far away from Bella, where she would never have to see it or be reminded of her horrific ordeal ever again. But it wasn't up to him. It was up to Bella, and it seemed that she'd made her choice. While she was realistic enough to understand that she just couldn't raise it, she'd given the baby to Rosalie.
Under any other circumstances, with any other birth mother, Edward would have been thrilled for Emmett and Rose. Rose ached for a child so badly; it was the one thing she regretted most about what they were. While many things were difficult about the change, this one was the hardest for her - and for Esme, too, though he knew his adopted mother would never admit it. They were caretakers. They wanted children. The gift of a baby was the greatest, most momentous thing anyone could ever give them. And normally Edward would be overjoyed that someone in his loving family got exactly what she wanted.
But not at the cost of Bella. The price was just too, too high. And because Bella felt the way she did, Edward didn't know if he would ever be able to look at the baby without anger and blame. His head understood that Bella's pain was no fault of the child's. He understood that intellectually. But he could not look at the little boy - the little boy who looked and smelled nothing like his mother - without picturing the man who violently attacked the love of Edward's life. His mate. His reason for existing.
Her words to him in that letter cut him to the quick. For the first time, she'd admitted that she loved him. Those words...they cast a bright, glittering light through the darkness of his world. Bella loved him. He had wondered a little bit, while he was with her. Certainly she seemed to like him well enough - she enjoyed talking with him, and listening to him play the piano. When she was afraid, it was his arms she sought. But until he heard Esme read those words, he hadn't been entirely sure whether this was actually love on her part. Now he knew. And he wasn't going to stop until she was safe in his arms again.
Finally the light in Charlie's living room flicked off. Edward waited impatiently as he saw an upstairs light turn on. He hoped the police chief would forgo a shower and just go to bed. Was that so much to ask? He bounced on his toes a little, adrenaline filling his system. He knew he'd have to wait a reasonable time for Charlie to fall asleep, but he just couldn't stand the tension. Edward reminded himself that it was possible Bella wasn't in the house at all but back on the damnable reservation, though he doubted it. His heart told him that she was here.
Edward had a plan this time, and he swore that absolutely nothing was going to sway him from his objective. He was rescuing Bella from her father and getting her the hell out of here. And no one else was coming with them. Esme would be sad and Carlisle angry, he figured, but his family was busy with the baby. And Rose had clearly gone to join Carlisle's camp when it came to Bella, which meant that their temporary truce was over. He wasn't sharing any more of his thoughts and plans with her, and she wasn't coming with him when he spirited Bella away. He also had decided not to use any of the suggestions they'd come up with during their last secret meeting. None of them were safe now, since Rose knew they were possibilities. Edward steeled his jaw, creeping closer to the house, waiting for Charlie's bedroom light to blink off. He wasn't taking Bella to Alaska, or Switzerland, or Isle Esme. He was getting her the hell out of the country, and he wasn't telling anyone where they were going.
Of course, there was always Alice's visions to contend with. But little Alice, one of the two newest members of his family, had never visited the Cullen residence Edward had chosen. The combination of that and Alice's difficulty seeing Bella, he hoped, would make it that much more difficult for anyone to find him.
Finally. Charlie's light flicked off, and Edward breathed a sigh of relief. He'd give the police chief ten minutes to fall asleep and then he was breaking into the house to find Bella, caution be damned.
Edward's phone buzzed in his pocket, and he grimaced, hoping it wasn't Alice on the other end of the line. He glanced at the screen and relaxed. It was just the shady pilot he'd bribed to take them on the first leg of their flight.
"Yeah?" he said, glancing at his watch. Eight minutes.
"Just checking that everything's still a go for tonight," the man said quickly, greed evident in his tone.
"Yes," Edward said. "I'm picking up the cargo now."
"Can I ask what it is?" The pilot cleared his throat and spat; in his voice Edward heard long years of nicotine addiction. "Not that I'm judging, mind. Just interested."
"Only passengers," Edward said tightly. Seven minutes.
The pilot laughed. "Lemme guess. 'Myself, the boy, two droids'?" he quoted.
Edward grimaced. He'd walked right into that one, but he was in no mood for jokes. "No. Me and one other person - a girl. She'll be asleep."
"Hey," the pilot said quickly, "hey, now. I'm a smuggler, and I'll admit to that. But I don't get mixed up in no human trafficking shit. Not even for what you're paying me."
"It's not human trafficking," Edward said. "What do I look like? It's my sister. She's running away from an abusive boyfriend, and I'd do anything to help her." The last part was true enough, and Edward knew he was an excellent liar anyway. His smooth voice and ready cash assured this man's assistance. "She asked to be sedated during the flight because she gets awful airsickness. Unless you want her vomiting all over your plane?"
"No, no," the pilot said quickly, "that's fine. Just checking. You never know what kind of people you're dealing with these days, and all. Can't be too careful."
Edward had to bite back a dark chuckle. This man had absolutely no idea who - or what - he was dealing with. He stared at the second hand on his watch ticking off the moments. Four minutes.
"So...the agreement is the same?" the man asked. "Twenty-five thousand?"
"Yes," Edward said calmly. "One quarter up front, and the rest will be waiting in my vehicle when we reach New Jersey."
"Don't trust me?"
"Can't be too careful," Edward sneered, throwing the man's words back at him.
"Right, right." The man sighed wistfully. "When can I expect you?"
"An hour, give or take," Edward said, wishing he'd hurry up. Two minutes.
"Right-o. You're the boss."
The phone clicked off. Edward shoved it in his pocket and moved on silent feet toward Charlie's house. He still had a minute left on the clock, but he wasn't waiting any longer. He eyed the shabby edifice, wondering about the best way to get in. The lock on the garage door would be easy to break, but those vertical doors made a lot of noise. He finally opted to shimmy up his usual tree.
Bella's window was closed and locked, which did not surprise him. He'd told Charlie how he got in the first time, and no doubt the police chief thought he was taking precautions. Edward bit at his left thumbnail until he nibbled a jagged point, then slowly used the diamond-hard edge to cut a perfect circle in Bella's window. He eased the glass out, wedging it into a crook of the tree, and then carefully reached inside, unlatching the lock and raising the window. He could easily have forced the window open and broken the lock, but he wasn't entirely sure Charlie was asleep and he didn't want any actual, incontrovertible proof that it was he who stole Bella.
Sliding in, Edward took a deep breath as he had the last time he searched for his love in this abominable house. She'd been in her room this time, that much was clear, though she was not there now. He carefully stole down the hall, breathing deeply, and descended the stairs.
Bella's scent was strong in the kitchen. Edward wrinkled his nose at the smelly, abandoned remains of a fish on the counter. Had she been interrupted during preparation of a meal? By what?
The godawful sound of Charlie snoring started upstairs, and Edward grimaced. In all likelihood, it was Charlie who disturbed her. With a sinking feeling, Edward tried the door to the garage.
Yes, Bella was here. He could smell both the living scent of her - so warm, so vivid - and the smell of her fear. He smelled fresh blood, too, but not too much. Anger roiled in his stomach, though he knew she was probably all right at least as far as that went. He could tend her wounds on the airplane.
But where was she? The garage was dark, too dark even for his vampire eyes. He closed the door quietly behind him, shutting him in total darkness, and fumbled for a lightswitch.
When the single hanging bulb flicked on, Edward blinked. He was alone, it seemed. He frowned. Taking a chance, he stepped forward slightly and whispered, "Bella?"
There it was - her heartbeat sped up until it was almost humming, and he heard the little catch of a soft human breath.
"Bella?" he asked again, murmuring the words just a fraction louder. "Bella, baby, it's me, Edward. Where are you, sweet girl?"
"Edward?" Her little voice was so hesitant, and she let out a muffled half-sob. "Is it really you?"
"It's really me, baby," he soothed. "Tell me where you are."
"Behind the plywood," she whimpered, and Edward zoned in on the rough sheet of wood fronting what looked like the bottom of a set of shelves. Yes, her scent pooled in that direction. She was there. He rushed over and dropped to his knees, his fingers finding the edges of the splintery wood. He ripped it away, hearing the protesting squeak of the nails...
...and there she was. He longed to just grab her and haul her into his arms, never letting go. But she was wedged so tightly into the enclosed space that was clearly too small for her, and he didn't know how to get her out of there without hurting her. She was on her knees, her head against her legs and her back pressed tightly against the roof of the box. He growled loudly, his eyes turning black with anger, and clenched his fists tightly to keep from hitting something.
"Bella," he said, fighting back his rage, "god, Bella, I'm so sorry. Sweetheart, can you move?"
She grimaced and tried to wiggle, but her arms were handcuffed behind her back and she was pressed tightly into the box.
"I didn't think anyone was coming," she whispered.
"Bella," he said, stroking her shoulder gently, "I will always come for you. Always. Now, let's try to get you out of there before Charlie wakes up." He ran a hand down her shoulder to her elbow. "Baby, I don't want to hurt you."
"Just pull," she said, trying to move again but failing. "It's okay. Just get me out of here, please!"
"I'll try to be as gentle as I can," he murmured. He took a breath, steeling himself, and wrapped his hand firmly around her bent elbow. God, he didn't want to hurt her. But they had to get going. His pilot would wait, but he didn't want Bella in this fucking house any longer than she had to be. Nailing her into a tiny box like this was inhuman, and he saw how painfully she was jammed into the too-small space. He adjusted his hand once more, took a breath and held it, and started to pull gently.
The sound of fabric and skin scraping against rough plywood burned into his ears and he almost stopped when Bella hissed in pain, but he forced himself to continue. Working together, they managed to get her head and shoulders free, and then the rest of her warm little body spilled into his arms as she toppled out of the box.
She was crying, and he didn't blame her. He gathered her close, mindful of the myriad scrapes adorning her poor skin. "Bella," he crooned, "my Bella. It's okay. You're safe. I've got you."
"Get the cuffs off," she whimpered, struggling against the restraints on her wrists. "Please, get them off."
Her voice was panicked, and Edward wanted nothing more than to obey. He hated seeing the pain in her eyes, and he also selfishly wanted to feel her warm arms around him once more. But the most important thing now was getting her away from her father's house. "I will," he promised, brushing a hand against her silken cheek. "I will, baby, I promise. But we need to get you out of here. Just hold tight for a couple of minutes, please, and I'll get those cuffs off."
She said nothing, simply buried her head against his shoulder as he lifted her body easily into his arms. It was a little awkward with the handcuffs, but he managed. He slipped into the house again, then threw open the front door and strode to his car. Edward settled her in the passenger seat, not bothering to shut or lock the house door, and quickly started the engine. They peeled out of the gravel driveway and were on the dark road to Port Angeles in a matter of minutes.
Bella sat leaning forward, her hands behind her back, looking so uncomfortable. When Edward felt they were finally far enough away from Charlie's house he pulled onto the side of the dark highway and turned the cabin light on.
"Okay," he said. "Let's get those cuffs off you."
Bella turned eagerly toward the window, giving him access to the handcuffs. He did not miss the hitch in her breath as she moved, and he knew she must be in pain. Soon, he thought, soon they would be at their destination and he would be able to take care of her properly. He touched the cold metal cuffs, testing their strength. They were locked tightly around her wrists, cutting into the raw, already-hurt flesh.
"Do you have a key?" Bella asked, trying to turn her head to see him.
"No." He sighed. There was only one thing he knew for sure would work, and while he didn't want to do it, he also didn't have much choice. Charlie could wake and find Bella gone at any minute, and while he wasn't horribly worried about his hired plane waiting at the tiny Port Angeles airport, the guy wouldn't hang around forever. They needed to get Bella's cuffs off now. "Bella, baby, listen to me. I read your letter. I know you know what I am."
She said nothing; her only response was to drop her head a little.
"I need to know if you trust me."
Bella blinked. How could he possibly ask her that, after everything he'd done for her? "Of course I trust you," she whispered. "With my life."
"All right." He took another breath, hating what he had to do. "Bella, I need you to hold very still. As still as you possibly can. Your life depends on it."
She froze instantly, and Edward slid his hands around hers, lifting them a little ways, as carefully as he could. She whimpered after a few inches, and Edward rubbed her tense fingers gently. The smell of blood from her hurt wrists had awakened the hungry monster within him, and he was very nervous as he moved his mouth closer to her skin. This was a very dangerous stunt, but he didn't have a choice.
"You can bend forward," he breathed. "I'm so, so sorry; I don't want to hurt you. I need to be able to reach your wrists with my mouth."
She lowered her head toward her legs willingly, her back bowing and her arms raising a little more. Edward swallowed back venom as he saw the sticky trail of half-congealed blood adhering to her wrists. "Hold still," he murmured, lowering his mouth. "Hold very still."
She was barely breathing as Edward closed his teeth around the cold metal of one cuff. A tremor raced through her, just once, as his hair brushed her arm. He bit down slowly, firmly, the steel handcuff giving like butter against his teeth. Her warm skin was against his lips, and he closed his mouth around the chunk of metal in his mouth as it broke free, the rest of the cuff falling away from her wrist. She gasped at the sensation of his lips against her hurt wrist, and Edward carefully drew away from her skin. She turned toward him, her arms free, the handcuffs still dangling from one wrist, and Edward could do nothing but stare into her big brown eyes.
"Edward..." She blinked, but the tears sparkling in her eyes did not fade.
Edward turned his head and spat the offending piece of metal from his mouth, then wrenched open his car door and threw it as far into the dark woods at the side of the road as he could. He gasped for the clean, wet air untainted by the scent of Bella's blood. Though the traces of blood on the cuff had not been fresh, they still tempted him to the point where he desperately needed a moment to clear his head. The half-congealed substance absolutely melted in his mouth, filling him with hunger, with the knowledge that he had not tasted human blood for decades and a defenseless victim sat inches from him. Bella's blood was the sweetest he'd ever tasted, even stale, and he closed his eyes, wrestling furiously with the monster within. He would not hurt her. He'd kill himself before he allowed that.
"Edward," she said quietly.
Steeling himself for the smell of her mouthwatering blood, Edward lowered himself back into his seat and turned toward her again. "I'm sorry." He tried to find a smile for her, but only one side of his mouth decided to work. "I just needed a minute."
"You're so strong," she murmured wonderingly, and while the words would sound foolish in just about any other context, Edward understood exactly what she meant.
"You taste so good," he said tightly. "It takes a lot of control."
"I trust you."
Of course she did. Her big innocent eyes said as much, and Edward vowed that he'd do his best to be worthy of that trust. He leaned forward slowly and pressed his lips to her forehead, feeling the warmth of her skin, just holding his mouth there for a long moment. "Ready for the last one?" he said finally.
"If you are."
"I'll be okay." He held out his hand, managing a smile this time. Bella placed her cuffed wrist in his grasp, the mangled remains of the first cuff dangling over the center console. "Remember to hold as still as you can."
"I'll try."
He lowered his head again, and couldn't resist brushing a soothing kiss against the back of her hand. The worst scabbing was at the back of her wrist, so he turned her hand gently over, exposing the tender white inside flesh. The soft purple lines of her veins were dangerously tempting, but he hoped this would be better than biting near the open sores and risking exposure to his venom. He had no idea what would happen if a drop accidentally spilled into an open wound. Would that be enough to trigger the change? He didn't know, and didn't want to find out.
Slowly he opened his mouth and took the cuff between his teeth, biting down. Again the metal gave under the pressure of his bite, and he heard Bella sigh in relief as it finally snapped. The remains of the handcuffs fell to the floor of the car and Edward again stood, tossing them into the woods. When he sat down again, Bella snuggled quickly into his side. The console was in the way and Edward wanted to just pull her into his lap and keep her there but the last thing he needed was to get pulled over for unsafe driving on the way to the airport.
"Thank you," she whispered, and he allowed himself another minute to wrap his arms around her, feeling her whole and safe finally. He kissed her hair and felt her burrow further into his embrace.
"God, Bella, you had me so worried," he mumbled into the silk of her long hair.
"I'm sorry," she said, and he heard the tears in her voice that, he knew by now, she was fighting to keep from spilling over. "But I had to - "
"Shh." He kissed her head again, then used two fingers to gently tip her chin up. She gazed at him with her deep eyes, and Edward couldn't help himself. He pressed a kiss to her lips, then another. "There will be time to talk later," he said. "Right now we have a schedule to keep."
"Where are we going?" Bella asked. She did not seem particularly pleased to settle back into her seat, but she obeyed. Edward threw the car into gear, trying not to lose his temper when he heard the little whimper of pain as she sat back.
"We're getting you away from Charlie," Edward said. "Where he can't get to you anymore."
"But where?"
Edward didn't answer. He fished around in his pocket and pulled out a little enameled pillbox.
"What's this?"
"It's for the pain," he said, and comforted himself with the thought that it wasn't a complete lie. It was, in fact, a painkiller. The fact that it would knock Bella out - hopefully for the entire trip - was practically only a side effect. "Take one now, and see how you feel. There's juice in the paper bag by your feet."
Bella leaned forward slowly and fished out a bottle of cranberry juice. She tried to open it, but her tired, shaking hands couldn't snap the safety seal. Edward crooked a commiserating smile at her and took his hands off the wheel long enough to open the bottle.
"Thanks," she whispered. She wasn't sure she'd ever felt so tired or so relieved in her life. She didn't know how long she'd been nailed in that tiny box in the garage - hours at least. Time lost meaning when there was nothing to see, nothing to hear, and the hard slabs of plywood pressed so closely upon her. She had never thought of herself as a particularly claustrophobic person, but that might well change, she thought, after what Charlie had done.
But Edward had saved her, as Edward always seemed to save her. And now they were on the road, in his silver Volvo, and her eyes were full of his pale, unearthly beauty. He kept glancing between her face and the road as she willingly swallowed a little white pill and then downed half the bottle of juice. The sweet-tart bite of cranberry tasted so good, and her stomach rumbled, reminding her that the last time she'd actually eaten had been...when? Back at the Cullens' house? She couldn't quite remember, but she thought so.
"The food is for you, too," Edward said gently, and Bella fished in the bag again, pulling out little baggies of carrots and grapes and crackers and cheese. "I didn't know whether starving you was part of a punishment," he said, his voice dark with anger, "but I try to plan ahead. Just eat a little bit if it's been a while. Don't make yourself sick."
"I know," Bella said quietly, forcing herself to nibble on a Ritz instead of wolfing down the bag like her stomach begged her to. "I've done this before."
"I'm sure you have," Edward said tightly.
She said nothing more, but placed a trembling hand on his leg as he drove. It felt wonderful to be able to reach out and touch him; like a dream. She honestly had never expected to be able to do this ever again. She thought perhaps she'd see him in school now and then, from a distance, if Charlie let her live. But being this close to him, her lips still tingling from his gentle kiss, her hand on his leg? No, she hadn't figured on this ever happening again.
He dropped his cold hand and closed it over hers, holding it gently. "God, Bella," he said quietly, and she could do nothing but nod. What else was there to say? They were together again, and for the moment nothing else mattered. Edward was right. There would be time to talk later. Right now, she just wanted to relish his nearness and believe that everything really would be all right. As the adrenaline of the escape swept out of her system, she felt a sudden, intense weariness take hold. Vaguely she wondered if this was a side effect of that pill. She had no idea what Edward had given her, but she trusted him. He'd rescued her, and she trusted him. With a small sigh of contentment she rested her head against his firm shoulder, sleep dragging her under.
A grape rolled out of Bella's hand and Edward bit back a smile as he felt her breathing shift quickly into the slow, steady rhythm of sleep. They were halfway to Port Angeles and the meds had taken effect quickly. Probably because she'd had no food in her stomach. He growled, anger at Charlie Swan growing again. Bella sighed against his shoulder.
God, he felt so guilty for what he was doing. Not guilty enough to stop him from doing it, but guilty nonetheless. Bella was going to be furious when she woke. But he wasn't willing to play games anymore - not with her safety on the line. The rest of his family could sit at home and make fruitless phone calls to the state while they cooed over the baby, but he wasn't going to forget the most important part of this equation: Bella. She needed someone to keep her safe from her father since she wasn't able or willing to do it herself. Her lack of self-preservation instincts was truly mind-blowing...and upsetting. Intensely upsetting. Edward glanced at her sleeping face. She looked so peaceful nestled against his shoulder. He turned the heat up in the car a little more, angling the vents to blow on Bella. He couldn't take stock of her wounds while they drove, but he was going to make damn well sure she was as comfortable as he could make her.
Rosalie laughed as Emmett marched downstairs as if ready for battle, a pair of bright orange construction earplugs squashed into his ears. On top of these he clapped a pair of pink fuzzy earmuffs, courtesy of Alice. On his hands he wore pink dishwashing gloves.
"Em, it's really not that bad," she said, turning on the water in the deep porcelain kitchen sink. She plugged the drain and let the warm water run. They'd learned quickly that Mason was terrified of water and hated baths, but he was also a pro at getting dirty and sticky, so they were an unfortunate necessity. Rose had no idea how often parents typically bathed babies, but Mason needed a good scrub-down almost every day.
Okay, she revised, so maybe that was a little bit of an overstatement. Today was day three of Life With Baby, and Mason was getting bath number two. That maybe wasn't quite enough to make a definitive statement about yet.
Esme drifted into the kitchen with Mason in her arms. She had fallen in love with him just as Rose had, but Rosalie knew perfectly well that Esme's primary worry was Mason's birth mother. Edward left the house with Bella's things the day Mason arrived, and neither of them had been seen since. Charlie had not yet made a big deal about his daughter's disappearance, but Rose understood that it was because most of the Cullens were still in town. He didn't know Edward was missing. Alice told them all firmly that they were not allowed to go off searching for their wayward siblings right now. If more Cullens disappeared, Charlie would have the police and feds swarming on the family in an instant. So there was nothing they could do except keep trying to call Edward - who wasn't picking up his phone - and wait.
Esme felt the blow the hardest. Rose watched her adopted mother carefully as she handed Mason over to Emmett to bathe. While she was fond of the baby, she missed her son and daughter. Worry lined her face, and Rose didn't need to ask Jasper in order to feel it. Edward could take care of himself, but Esme wanted Bella back. It didn't take an empath to know that.
Carlisle was understandably frustrated by Edward's impulsive actions, but he wasn't as angry as Rose thought he might be. He'd called just about every vampire he knew he could trust, including the Denali coven, to try and track down Edward's whereabouts. No one had seen him. Eleazar sent Irina to check on the Cullen lodge, but she had turned up nothing. No one had been there since they left several years ago.
Rosalie knew Edward wouldn't thank her for it, but she'd admitted to Carlisle and Esme their original plans to spirit Bella away from Forks. After many phone calls, Carlisle decided that it was unlikely Edward had taken Bella to any of the proposed locations. Edward knew how to hide himself - he'd been taught by the best, after all - but that didn't make his disappearance any easier. Appeals to Alice were unhelpful. They'd managed to track down a smuggler with an airplane who admitted to taking two teenagers that matched Edward and Bella's description to New Jersey, but from there he didn't know where they'd gone. No one else seemed to, either. The trail went cold. Rose bet anything that Edward had intended exactly that.
A piercing scream alerted Rosalie to Mason's bath time, and she grinned as she watched him struggle with Emmett. He wasn't crawling yet, but he had learned to prop himself up on his hands and pull himself along, rather like a little seal pup. He was attempting to do exactly that now, while Emmett struggled to get him out of his onesie and diaper. But Mason was no fool. He knew perfectly well what that diabolical sink of water meant.
And Rosalie absolutely could not feel gloomy when she saw Emmett interacting with the baby. Together they'd quickly become her everything, her world. She worried about Bella still, but there was nothing she could do at the moment but hope Edward was taking care of her. And plan on beating him to a mushy pulp whenever she saw him again, of course.
When Mason's desperate screeches grew too high-pitched to laugh about any longer, Rose stepped in to rescue her husband. She deftly picked up the struggling baby and held him firmly around the torso.
"Get his top half out of the onesie," she ordered gently, laughing a little.
"What?" Emmett hollered, cupping a hand around his muffed ear.
Rose rolled her eyes. "Honestly," she said.
"Need a hand?" Esme stepped in and stripped the wiggling infant, her hands working smoothly.
"Thanks." Rose grinned and handed the naked baby back to Emmett. "Here you go, dad."
He stuck his tongue out at her and plunked Mason in the sink. There was only a couple of inches of warm water in there, but Mason's shrieks grew impossibly louder and he immediately tried to climb out again.
"No you don't, little dude," Emmett said, and he dumped a giant handful of all-in-one baby wash on Mason, rubbing the gentle soap into his skin and hair. He started to sing, loud and off-key because he couldn't hear himself. The sound mixed with Mason's wails, and Rose and Esme immediately retreated to the living room.
"I wish she were here," Esme said quietly, staring wistfully out the window. "Mason's such a beautiful little boy. I want to tell her how proud I am of her, and her son."
My son, Rose thought automatically before she could help it.
"Splish splash, I was taking a bath," Emmett sang from the kitchen. "Something...something...Saturday night!"
Esme snorted quietly. "God knows how that baby boy is going to turn out with Emmett for a father."
"No worries, we've got it covered," Alice said brightly, prancing into the room. "We already bought him toy cars for every stage of development. Little plush ones, and Tonka trucks, and Hot Wheels..."
"What does that have to do with Emmett's parenting?"
"Well, Rose insisted!"
"What?" Rose asked defensively. "What's wrong with toy cars? You can't be a Cullen and not like cars."
"Point," Jasper agreed. He was attached to the pinball machine that was ostensibly Bella's but the boys had claimed. Rosalie had even caught them lecturing to Mason on the finer points of pinball strategy as he sat on the glass top and watched the lights blink as Emmett played.
"Splish splash, forgot about the bath," Emmett sang, a little truer to pitch now, and he entered the living room with a grumpy but quiet baby in his arms, wrapped in a hooded towel that looked like a frog. "Cuz how was I to know there was a party going on?" He dipped Mason, jitterbugging a little.
"Let me dance him!" Alice demanded, swiping the baby from Emmett and twirling around.
"Careful," Rose warned, "he just ate before his bath."
"Not it," Jasper and Emmett said at almost the same time as Alice quickly stopped spinning Mason in circles. Everyone watched him carefully. After a moment he burped, but did not seem inclined to spit up. Alice sighed in relief.
Suddenly the doorbell rang. Everyone tensed automatically. Carlisle came quickly down the stairs as the entire family gazed warily at one another. Rose took Mason from Alice, holding him tightly in her arms. He lay his damp little head on her shoulder, and Rose knew that there was no way she was letting anyone hurt this child or take him from her. She stepped away from the door, moving toward the kitchen where she could not be seen.
"It's not the chief," Alice said as the doorbell rang again. "He decided to get drunk with some buddies tonight."
Carlisle glanced at his family once more, then moved to open the door.
On the other side stood a human woman with sandy blond hair pulled back in a bun. She smiled pleasantly. "Dr. Cullen, I presume?"
"Yes," he replied, shaking the hand she offered.
"Pleasure to meet you, sir," she said. "I'm sorry to barge in on you like this, very sorry. But I was in the area and I wanted to stop by and see how things were working out with Mason. I'm Heidi, his social worker."
Carlisle relaxed and smiled at the woman. He opened the door a little wider and motioned for her to come inside. "Please, by all means," he said. "You're more than welcome. I'm, ah, glad to finally meet you."
"Yes," she agreed, following him into the living room, where the rest of the family waited. "Well, it was an unusual case, but once we saw your name we knew the baby would have a good home. I must say, we were surprised to see Isabella appear out of nowhere on our doorstep, though. Almost like a little waif."
Carlisle hid a smile. Bella had that effect on people, it seemed. "Please, meet my family. My wife Esme, and our other children. Emmett, Alice, Jasper." He turned toward the kitchen. "Rose? Is Mason done with his bath?"
Rosalie cautiously moved back into the family room, Mason now dressed in a clean onesie. She held him close and eyed the strange woman, though she'd heard the entire conversation.
"And Rosalie, and little Mason," Carlisle said, smiling reassuringly at her. "The girls have really taken to the baby. It's hard to find time to give him a cuddle myself, I must say."
"That's how it always is with big sisters," Heidi said with a smile. She looked at Mason, but did not attempt to touch him. "But didn't you have one more teenager? Forgive me, but I thought there were five."
"Yes," Carlisle agreed. "Edward is at basketball practice until late tonight," he improvised. "Very dedicated to the team."
Alice had to stifle a snort, turning it into a cough. Edward was many things, but a team player wasn't one of them.
"Was there anything specific you wanted to know about the baby?" Esme asked quickly. "He's been eating well, and seems at home with the rest of the family. He doesn't much like baths, but he naps quietly. He's a dream."
"Good, good." Heidi shifted nervously, and every Cullen caught it. "I was actually wondering if I could ask you a couple of questions about Bella."
Carlisle let out a long breath. Was this finally happening? Now that Edward had whisked Bella off to god knew where, was the state actually going to pay attention to their constant phone calls? "Yes," he said. "But this might take a while. Why don't we have a seat?"
A/N: A huge thank you to all my sweet reviewers, especially Hev99 who recced my story and linnfromia who used the word verisimilitude! Next week, we find out where Edward's taking Bella! Should we have another contest to see if you can guess?