Right, FINALLY we are at the final chapter. Thanks for being patient, there will be a short epilogue to follow in the next couple of days - and it WILL be in the next couple of days. Enjoy!

Chapter 20

I tried not to cower at either the question or his unexpected closeness. The success of my attempt however seemed minimal, as though my instincts were making a point in response. I wish I'd keyed in the more rational part of my brain in time to stop it.

At my response, James inched away – though only slightly – and I saw his face visibly harden.

All of my effort went into keeping my eyes on his face. I didn't want to anger him for fear of what he may do if I did. I also didn't really want to speak, for much the same reason, though I knew reasonably that if I didn't speak to him, he would be mad anyway.

As he raised his eyebrows, demonstrating calmly that he was waiting for an answer, I considered his question.

The first thoughts that came to my head were that he had lured me under false pretences to the dance studio in Phoenix, kidnapped me, isolated me in a strange place that I still didn't know, beat me, abused me and fed from me. I had been lucky to escape, especially without any serious or lasting physical injuries. The emotional scars were still a problem, and I couldn't believe that they would simply disappear any time soon. I was having to adjust to being with the one person I could be completely myself around and I felt awful for having left my family and few friends in such a state of worry for so long – despite it being James' fault. He had confused me with his unexpected change in behaviour and though it was appreciated at the time, now I was free again, I felt vulnerable thanks to it.

Honestly, I thought the answer should be obvious, and I told him as much, with a shaky voice.

He shook his head disbelievingly, as though he was ready to dispute that what he had done in the months I'd been in his captivity were not liable to induce fear.

"Did you feel fear towards the end?" he asked, but there was no feeling behind the question.

I considered that too. Honestly, I hadn't. It was almost a relief when I realised I could stop being afraid all the time. I allowed myself to be somewhat comfortable around him, simply because it made my life there easier to handle. By that point, there really was no point to fear him anymore, but that didn't change what had happened before.

"Not at the end," I whispered my reply. I considered elaborating to explain myself, but I realised that it was actually the last thing I wanted to do, given I had no way of knowing how he would take it. Instead, I kept my mouth firmly shut, waiting for him to respond.

He smiled, almost triumphantly, "Then your fear now is irrational."

I considered that, too. Perhaps, from his perspective that made sense; he too had become used to my being relaxed around him and since the last time I saw him, the only difference is that I was now free from his captivity.

That was just the problem though: I had escaped. Any positive progress we had made would have, at least as my logic goes, reverted back to the beginning, fuelled by bitterness that I chose to leave. Or bitterness that I had managed to leave without any intended consequence.

I tried to think of a way of phrasing it without offending, and all I could come up with was an uncertain "You're angry." Not a question, but a statement.

He seemed to need to think about that one. Perhaps he was considering how I'd reached that conclusion, or considering how to react. Maybe the fact that I had said it out loud had merely enhanced his anger and he was attempting to reign it in.

Edward's mind reading ability would have come in handy right about then.

He stood up straight, without taking his eyes off of mine. He crossed one arm across his chest, and he raised his other hand to stroke his chin thoughtfully, as though he was having difficulty working out my logic. He held that pose for what felt like a long time, and I began to feel uncomfortable under his gaze.

"Do I seem angry to you?"

My eyes flitted towards the ground for a second before I reminded myself of one of his first rules: that I needed to maintain eye contact. Perhaps it was silly to hold those 'rules' in mind whilst I was free and no longer in his captivity, but I was unwilling to take the risk as it was.

I took a deep breath and really looked at him. Angry wasn't really the right word to use to describe how he seemed right now, a little impatient, perhaps, but not angry.

That didn't mean that he wasn't fuming beneath the surface. He was a vampire after all.

"Almost." I replied quietly.

"And what," he responded, his voice low, "do you mean by that?"

I resisted the urge to nibble nervously on my lower lip, "I think you seem to be waiting to be angry. You were – or maybe you want to be – but right now you're not." I paused and sighed heavily, not wanting to explain much further, but it was as though I had developed verbal diarrhoea and I couldn't stop, "I think I'm waiting for you to be angry as well. It seems the reasonable response to me, given everything. Actually, I think I'd quite like you to be angry."

He shook his head, looking almost amused. "You and I both know you don't want me to be angry."

I remembered the nights on end I spent sat alone in the dark, cold room, isolated and scared, having just suffered one of his punishments as a response to his anger. I squeezed my eyes shut tightly, trying to ban the images from my mind.

He was right; I didn't want him to be angry. But it was what my reasoning expected of him, simply because he was a vampire who had demonstrated his capability, both to become angry and to act on said anger without much thought.

Very slowly, as these thoughts came to mind, and seemingly quite on purpose, James stepped around me, and placed his hands lightly on my upper arms, barely holding on, but it was just enough to make me wary of his intent.

He squeezed down, briefly, before relieving the slightly pressure. He failed to remove his hands though, and I had to force myself to keep my breathing even and my mind calm.

"You think my intent is to hurt you in some way, don't you?" he whispered into my ear in what could have been a menacing way, but something about the way it was delivered made me question my fears.

I didn't respond, not knowing what to say. I didn't move, knowing his hands were still placed lightly on my arms. I was tempted to turn around, to see what he was doing, to read his face, but I didn't give in. I knew it was more than likely I wouldn't like what I saw.

He was silent, too. At least for a while. I didn't know what to make of that, but I didn't dare break the silence.

After some time, his hands drifted slowly down my arms, to grasp my wrists. The action was only brief, and before I knew it, he had released me, though he didn't come back around to face me. Part of me thought that he may have simply left in his silent way, but really, I knew that wasn't the case; he was still behind me.

I don't know how I knew for sure, but I did.

"You know," James eventually broke the curious silence, "your boyfriend" he sneered without a hint of subtlety "has been listening in on our conversation. Particularly rude, don't you think?"

I assumed there was a reason why he was mentioning this, not that I could work out what it was. How he even knew was a mystery, it was Edward with the mind reading abilities, not James. I supposed he probably knew where Edward was, and by that figured that he had in fact been listening. I wasn't going to continue the subject any further though, and continued to remain silent.

"You seem to have lost your feeling now you're home." James stated, and I wasn't sure whether to be insulted or not. "Are you really that worried about what I'll do? Or perhaps, your concerns lie more with what your boyfriend may hear."

I shook my head vigorously, still unsure of what to say, but eager to deny his mild accusations. I was getting a little fed up of his questions.

He came to stand facing me once more, then, and the look on his face showed his frustration. He glared at me, as though it would force me to respond – though the look he gave me could have been enough to do so had he maintained it long enough – before his face smoothed out, as though he was completely indifferent.

He smiled, and almost frighteningly bright smile at least in part at what must have been the look of shock on my face. He was feeling triumphant.

"It doesn't have to be today," he said as he realised it, "that you talk to me about this. I hope you know, Bella, that I'm not planning on going anywhere for a while. I don't care about your boyfriend or his family, or what attempts they or anyone else make to try and protect you from me." he explained "All I care about is you, and you will eventually give in to talking to me."

In a blink of an eye while I tried to process what he had said, he kissed me hard on the lips. In my shock, I couldn't move, though part of me didn't even want to. He wrapped his arms around me tightly, so I was unable to move, before he released me and backed away.

I blinked furiously, almost believing that the action might erase, or even allow me to forget what just happened, but it was – unsurprisingly – ineffective.

"What-" I began, hoping to ask what that was all about, but he cut me off with a finger to my lips.

"I knew that would get you talking." He told me, pleased with himself. "I'm going to leave you now, Bella. Don't worry though, this won't be the last you see of me, I'd keep an eye out, if I were you."

He paused, and leaned forward once more to press a kiss to my forehead, before he once again backed away. "Edward will come over when I'm out of sight. Until next time Bella." he said and then, in a blink of an eye he was gone.

But it wasn't permanent. I couldn't escape the fact that he wanted some form of connection to me, and I would have to wait to find out why.

It was then, waiting for Edward – who appeared only moments later – that I realised that no matter what I did, I would always be his captive.