By the time I've finished explaining I'm completely exhausted. The shaking has stopped, but only because I think I don't have any more emotion left to give. Instead I feel numb and detached as I recall all the details, the pictures of those women that William…
I get the feeling, as I recount William's crimes, that if it weren't for Jacob and Sam's excellent self-control I would have ended up in trouble all over again. At one point Jacob's whole body starts to tremor next to me, his teeth gritted together, but he keeps his cool and eventually calms.
"I can't believe he was such a psychopath," Jacob mutters, shaking his head in disbelief, "I mean, something wasn't right with the guy, I never really liked him but… killing all those women?"
"I'm sorry we gave you the responsibility of watching him Rosalie, I never would have if I'd ever thought…" Sam trails off, looking away from me uncomfortably. I shrug and reply, my voice monotone,
"It's fine. He fooled us all." Jacob and Sam look at each other, some hidden meaning in their glance, and then Sam moves from his place against the hearth, unfolding his arms.
"I'll let you get some sleep," Sam says, making for the door. "I hope you're alright, Ros." I put on my best smile and try to nod convincingly. He leaves, his expression still unsure. Once the door closes Jacob lets out a heavy sigh and reaches over, tucking my fringe behind my ear. He watches me for a moment, the lines on his forehead showing his concern.
"We need to clean you up," Jacob sighs, rising from the sofa and leaving me alone as he enters the kitchen. I think of very little in his absence. I focus instead on the pattern of the sofa fabric, following the lines with my eyes, trailing along them with my finger. Jacob returns with a bowl of steaming water and a flannel and kneels in front of me. "Tell me if I'm hurting you," he instructs gently, dipping the flannel in the bowl and wringing it out before beginning to clean my head wound. It stings, but I try not to flinch as he carries out his careful work. I watch his face as he concentrates, studying ever feature. He truly is a beautiful man. I wonder if he really knows?
"The blood made it look worse than it is," he tells me reassuringly, a small smile pulling at his lips. I nod. He watches me a moment longer, frowning, then sighs. Pushing away the bowl and flannel he cups my face tenderly in both hands, forcing me to look at him directly. "Where are you Ros?" I frown, not understanding the question. I'm right here, aren't I? "It's like my Ros isn't in there." I look at him blankly, and though I can tell my lack of response is making him despair, I can't find an answer to give.
"I'd like to go to bed now," I tell him. He watches me a moment longer, despairingly, and then backs away, releasing me. I lift myself from the sofa and shuffle away towards the bedroom. "Thank you for cleaning me up," I say as I open the bedroom door, managing a small smile.
"You're welcome," he replies softly. As I shut the door, I see him put his face in his hands.
I scream, shielding my face against the spectres that attack me in the dark, my nightmares following me into waking.
"Jacob, Jacob!" I scream at the top of my lungs, thrashing in his bed, and for a few horrifying moments I think he's left me again, that I'm here alone, fighting against the decaying faces that come rushing at me, their wailing deafening me. I suddenly feel real, solid hands clutching at my arms, and it pulls me back to reality, the hideous faces disappearing into smoke, leaving only Jacob's face peering down at me, alarmed. I sit up in bed and fling my arms around him, shoving my face against his neck to keep away my terrifying visions. "Please don't go, please," I plead desperately. Jacob rubs my back soothingly as he shushes me and waits until my grip on his neck starts to loosen and my shaking begins to subside before he gently lies me back down.
"I'm not going anywhere," he whispers, climbing into bed next to me. He has to forcibly remove my iron-like grip from his body so he can remove his t-shirt, then he takes my hands and places them back on his bare chest as he lies down next to me. We lie for a long time just looking at each other, and even without speaking merely his presence seems to calm me. My rapid breathing becomes more even, my head stops pounding quite so hard and even some of my muscles begin to relax as he stares at me adoringly with those chocolate-brown eyes. "I'm so sorry for leaving," he says into the dark, just as I feel myself starting to doze. I open my eyes again to see him looking fraught with regret, frowning, looking away from me. "I kept checking in on you, you know, through the pack's eyes. They really care about you." I smile as much as I can muster, tightening my grip on his chest to let him know I'm listening. "And then when I phased and all their voices were there, screaming that they couldn't find you… I just…" He trails off, his eyes darting from side to side, "I was so frightened. I got here as soon as I could."
"Renesmee was finished with you, then," I comment, and even I'm surprised by how bitter I sound. He doesn't answer, unable to find an adequate reply I think. It takes a long time before he finally does speak, and while he does, his fingers trail up and down my side, down from my breast to my thigh.
"She'd gotten dumped by her latest conquest, that's why she called." He hesitates and then sighs wearily. "That's why she always calls. For a vampire, she really sucks at the thrall thing."
"Sorry, for a what?" I ask, my body stiffening under his touch. More things he's kept from me.
"Yeah, uh, the Cullen family are like… vegetarian vampires." He lets out a nervous laugh under my disbelieving stare.
"Well that's reassuring, to know that my competition could kill me if she falls off the wagon." Jacob seems to sober up at my statement, his expression becoming serious again.
"I told you I'd never let anyone hurt you," he reiterates, his hand reaching up to brush against my jaw.
"I'm not sure you'd have a choice about it." I know my words have upset him, I see it in the little flicker in his eyes, and I hate myself for doing it. I know where all this hostility is coming from. I know it's coming from that black, nasty feeling inside of me, like a pool of tar sitting heavy in my stomach. "Sorry," I whisper, guilt forcing my eyes away from his perfect face. "Guess I'm just feeling jealous," I lie. Well, it's not entirely a lie; it's just that the feeling of jealousy has been overridden with something far more poisonous.
"Well obviously," Jacob grins cockily and I can't help but smile back as a little ray of sunshine breaks through the blackness inside of me. I reach up and touch his face, delicately tracing my fingers along his jaw and he inclines his head towards my hand, smiling happily. "Don't be jealous, nothing happened. Nothing ever happens. She just wants me there to listen and make a fuss of her. She likes the attention." He pauses, looking thoughtful. "I blame Rosalie," he glances at me, "Her aunt. Spoiled her rotten right from the start."
"Did you wish it was different, you know, like Sam and Emily?" He shrugs.
"I guess I just figured it'd turn out like that. Imprint, fall in love, happily ever after." His smiles wryly, "Not so much for me."
"Poor wolfie," I say softly, gently touching the tip of his nose. He grins, taking hold of my hand and kissing the palm.
"Can I kiss you yet?" he asks cheekily, eyes twinkling at me. I nod, smiling, and he leans in and presses his lips against mine, his kiss slow and tentative, fingers lacing through mine. It's lovely, of course it is, Jacob's kiss could never be anything but wonderful, but as I kiss back I can't shake the feeling that something isn't right. My pulse isn't bounding the way it did before, I can't feel my heart pulling me toward him… the ache isn't there. Suddenly the image of William's forceful kiss pushes its way into my mind, and it takes all my self-control to not start shoving Jacob away, to let him finish the kiss naturally, repeating to myself over and over that it's not William, it's not William.
When he pulls away he's still smiling and I'm so relieved that I didn't completely clench up and upset him even more.
"Sleep time?" I ask, trying to sound as normal as possible.
"Sleep time," he agrees, and tucks his head above mine, chin resting atop of my hair. First he lets out a contented sigh, and then what seems like only minutes later, he begins to gently snore. It's adorable, really. But still I can't shake the thought of William out of my mind. I curse him silently in my head for ruining everything, for poisoning La Push for me the way he has, for twisting and contorting my feelings for Jacob. And it's while I lie awake for what feels like hours that I slowly come to a heart-breaking realisation. I don't think I can stay here, not now, not while it's all so fresh. The thought of that basement, with its' horrifying pictures, angry screams and gunshots, being less than a mile away is too much for me. I know the only thing that'll get rid of this horrible feeling inside of me is time, and being here, in tainted surroundings, isn't going to help me. And I won't inflict myself on Jacob when I'm like this. It's not fair on either of us.
I try my best to gentle disentangle myself without waking him, taking just a moment to memorise the feeling of his warm skin against mine, the soft rise and fall of his chest while he sleeps. I dress quickly and throw all my clothes into my rucksack, once again struggling with the fit, and then make my way into the living room where I source out some paper and a pen. I write,
Dear Jacob,
I'm so, so sorry, but I need to go home for a while. Please don't hate me. After everything that's happened La Push just feels tainted. William's ruined it all. It's not your fault, I'm really thankful for what you've done for me and all the time we've shared. But I know that time away from here is the only thing that's going to get rid of this horrible, disgusting feeling inside me and let me forget. Please don't hate me. I'll be thinking of you every day, promise.
Yours always,
Rosalie xXx
I sneak back into Jacob's room and leave the two post it's on his chest of drawers and then take a moment to drink in his image, try to burn it into my mind. He looks so tranquil while he sleeps and his arms look so welcoming that I almost hesitate, rip up the notes and climb back into bed, but I know deep down that I can't. I take one last, final look at my Jacob then head for the front door, pausing only to scratch a sleeping Otis behind the ears and whisper a soft goodbye. I wonder idly if I'll have forgotten how to drive, it's been so long since I had to. But no, it comes back to me almost instantly, and as I watch Jacob's house disappear from view in my mirror, I can't help but ask myself whether I'll ever see La Push again.
Hello all!
Just wanted to say thank you again for all the positive reviews I've been receiving! Knowing that you're enjoying the story really gives me the motivation to keep on writing.
Now, I know some of you may be concerned that following this development that there's going to be millions of Jacob-less chapters again (I know that's what I'd be worrying about anyway!), so I just wanted to reassure you that that will not be the case.
Much love,
Steph x