Disclaimer: Twilight is not mine.
Chapter 21- Let Go
Hey you, look what you do to me
You bend and you bruise me
Why you try to control me?
But you don't own me
How come you just want to hurt me?
How come you just want to push me?
I can't ignore you anymore
I don't wanna be afraid, I don't wanna run away
I don't want to be here fading it's more that I can take
You kept pushing me
You keep using me
You keep twisting me
You keep breaking me
You can't have me anymore
You can't have me, let go!
Let Go- Red
This chapter is nothing but violence. I promise it'll be the only one of this nature in the whole story, but it is a VERY important chapter.
Cringe-worthy material ahead.
There is NO RAPE. Nobody worry about that, just in case that's a touchy subject with anyone.
Bella POV
I woke up in the back of Jacob's car, my head throbbing from where he had hit me. My wrists and ankles ached, so I looked down to see that they were bound together tightly with rope.
I lay still for a second, trying to figure out what was happening. The car was going along a bumpy road, and I was being jostled up and down, my head hurting even more with every movement.
It was dark in the car and I could tell that Jake was driving fast, his posture relaxed as he leaned his head back against the headrest. He looked perfectly content, like he was driving to the beach on a lovely day, not like he was kidnapping someone in the early hours of the morning.
From the back seat I could tell how the corner of his mouth was pulled up in a small smile, like he was extremely pleased with himself.
And that pissed me off.
The car hit a particularly large bump, and I groaned loudly as my head was jolted up and then thrown back down.
Jacob glanced back briefly before turning to the road again.
"Finally," he said. "I thought you had a concussion. That would've been no fun."
Yeah, I thought. Well maybe you shouldn't have hit me on the head, asshole.
I'd be damned if I said anything, though. As much as I hated Jacob Black, I was scared shitless of him.
I stayed silent as I pressed my head into the seat, trying to repress any movement that would cause it pain.
"Where are you taking me?" I finally whispered.
"Someplace familiar," he replied curtly.
"Where's Emmett?" I asked, my voice breaking.
I remembered him saying something about Emmett being "gone", and my eyes immediately started tearing up. Emmett couldn't be gone, there was no way. Wouldn't I have heard if Jacob shot him? I couldn't live without my brother, I just couldn't. I knew I had been horrible to him over the last few months, but he was all I had left.
Jacob chuckled darkly. "You don't have to worry about him."
"What did you do to him?" I somehow managed to growl.
Jacob didn't reply, but instead increased his speed even more.
Suddenly he came to a screeching halt, causing me to roll on my stomach and fall off the seat, into the tight area in between the front passenger seat and the back.
My forehead hit the floor of the car and I let out a cry of pain.
Jacob reached back and pulled me up by the back of my shirt, bringing his mouth close to my ear as my torso dangled in the air and the neckline of my t-shirt almost choked me.
"Do me a favor, and stop asking questions," Jacob hissed, his hot breath giving me goosebumps. "If you don't shut up in the next two seconds, I'll throw you into oncoming traffic."
He let me go abruptly and I gasped for breath as I hit the floor again.
Jacob took off and I lifted myself up and pulled myself onto the seat again, sobbing. I had to use my elbows since my hands were tied together, and it was difficult to sling my tied ankles up and over.
I was scared out of my mind, desperately wishing I had my phone. I needed someone, anyone to help me.
I stared at the door of the car, wondering what my chances were of escaping. He was driving too fast for me to get out safely, and he had just turned onto a busy highway.
I had learned somewhere that if you were in the trunk of a car you could kick the tail light out and stick your hand out through the hole to get someone's attention. But I wasn't in the trunk; I was in the back seat, with my hands tied together.
I was screwed.
All I could do was cry, absolutely wishing to die.
"Quit your blubbering," Jacob growled. "Nobody can hear you crying, baby. No one except me, and I don't give a shit."
I tried to swallow back my sobs, racking my brain for ways to get him to take me home.
"Please," I said, deciding to beg. "Please Jake, just take me home."
He chuckled. "Yeah, right."
"Why are you doing this?"
"Why?" he asked incredulously. "Maybe because you fucking cheated on me a thousand times. Maybe because you never want to spend time with me. Maybe because after I told you to stay the fuck away from Cullen, you didn't want to fucking listen."
Edward.
I suddenly wanted nothing more than to be in his arms. Upon thinking about him, a fresh wave of tears began and I just couldn't control myself.
While driving, Jacob leaned back to punch me in the face.
I cried out in pain as I felt the veins around my right eye break; he was yelling something I couldn't comprehend.
My sobs subsided and I took deep breaths through my mouth, trying to keep my mind clear. I had to think through this. There had to be some way I could get him to relax and stop doing what he was doing and get me home safely.
"Are you going to kill me?" I whispered.
I had been practically inaudible, but I knew he heard me because he laughed.
"Oh baby, I don't want to," he said. "But if you don't behave and do as I say, that's exactly what it's going to come down to."
I stayed silent, wanting to disappear. The area around my right eye was throbbing and swollen, and I knew there was a bruise there. If he was hitting me places other people could see, then he didn't plan on taking me back home, or anywhere out in public for that matter.
A few minutes later he pulled up somewhere and I tensed up, waiting to see what he would do next.
He climbed out of the car and came around to open the door by my head, putting his arms under my shoulders and proceeding to drag me out of the car. My bare, bound ankles hit the cemented driveway with a thud and I winced at the pain.
The cold December wind bit against my skin as I looked up and saw that the house was the same one where the crazy sex party had been. The sky was showing the first hints of dawn; it would have to be almost seven in the morning. It took him four hours to get me here?
"Look familiar?" Jacob asked, an amused smile on his face.
I didn't answer. I glanced around and saw no one in the neighborhood. Would anyone hear if I called for help?
Jacob seemed to read my mind because he roughly said, "I swear, if you scream or something I'll kill you. I still have my gun and I don't give a shit if I get arrested, but you'll never see anyone ever again."
That was enough to dissuade me.
He dragged me down the driveway, the heels of my feet scratching painfully against the cement. I winced but didn't cry out, determined to show him that he wasn't going to be able to break me down anymore.
Somehow, I would find a way to escape.
I would fight.
Jacob dragged me all the way around to the back of the house, not bothering to carry me to make it easier on himself.
He was trying to make it as painful as possible for me, and so far he was pretty damn successful in that area.
Jacob pulled me up the stairs of the back porch; my bound feet slammed on the edges of every single one of the steps that he dragged me across.
Finally the heels of my bleeding feet met the cool, smooth surface of kitchen tiles. Jacob kept pulling me, and the carpet in the hallways managed to burn the cuts on my heels even more. I clenched my teeth and took deep breaths through my nose, determined to show some strength.
Jacob took me into one of the rooms that had been used for sex, and I immediately started to squirm.
He threw me on the floor, hard, and crouched down to hold me in position.
I stared up at him, terrified, as he fixed me with a cold glare.
"Don't try anything funny," he warned as he untied my wrists. Without looking away from my eyes, he reached down and untied my ankles.
The second I was free, I stretched on the cold ground, grateful for the feeling of circulation in my wrists and ankles beginning again.
I looked at Jacob and saw that he was staring at me contemplatingly, his head cocked to one side.
My heart was pounding, wondering what he was going to do next. I wondered if I should try and hit him; after all, I was free now.
One glance at the huge muscles protruding from his tight t-shirt dissuaded me.
Still, I would try. If I couldn't persuade him to let me go, I'd fight until he was forced to.
I watched Jacob's hungry, predatory eyes travel from my face down to my boobs, and then lower.
My heart rate sped up; I knew that look.
"I'll be right back," he said, his eyes snapping back to my face. "I'm gonna go get breakfast. I'll still be in the house, so I swear if I come back and you're not lying right here you're gonna be sorry."
With one last warning glance at me he stood up and left the room, closing the door behind him. The doorknob moved a little and clicked.
He was locking me in.
I heard his footsteps retreat and then suddenly it was silent. I lay staring up at the ceiling, feeling lost. How was I supposed to get away?
I glanced around me at the windowless room, empty save for the double mattress in the corner and a lamp in the other corner across the room. It looked like a room in a brand new house, unpainted and unfurnished.
I looked up at the source of dim light, seeing that it was a skylight right above the mattress. The blue sky was getting lighter and in that moment I wanted nothing more than to be in the comfort of my blankets.
I stared at the skylight and saw that there was a latch that held it closed. The ceiling was a little low, so if I stood on the mattress I might be able to unlatch it and possibly stick my hand out, maybe even my head.
Maybe, if I was insanely lucky, someone would see me and call for help. Maybe I would even be able to go back and lay on the floor before Jacob got back.
A minute later I decided that it was worth a shot.
Heart hammering, I got to my feet and quickly tiptoed over to the mattress. I was a little unsteady on my feet, but managed not to fall.
I climbed on the double mattress, seeing that if I stood on my toes, my fingers would be able to unlatch the skylight. However, I wouldn't be able to stick my hand out.
"What the fuck are you trying to pull?" Jacob's loud, angry voice made me jump.
I whirled around and saw him standing at the open door, two bowls of cereal in his hands. He looked absolutely furious.
How did he get in so fast? Did he just try and make me think I was locked in, so I wouldn't try and get out?
Suddenly he hurled a bowl across the room.
I dodged out of the way and the bowl crashed against the wall next to me, breaking into pieces as cereal and milk flew everywhere.
Jake set the other bowl down and made his way slowly over to me.
"Here I was, getting us some food, and you try to get away," he said, his eyes dangerous. "That's not very nice, is it?"
I was frozen, pressing myself against the wall.
"Jacob, please-"
He cut me off with a sharp slap to the face, grabbing me by my hair and throwing me off the mattress and onto the floor. My head hit the floor hard and I groaned, rolling onto my back. Jacob came over to me and grabbed my hair again, dragging me to the other end of the room, by the lamp.
"You think I was kidding when I told you not to try and pull anything?" he hissed in my face. He punched me in the face again and I cried out, despite my earlier promise to stay strong.
"Please," I found myself begging. "Jacob, please don't do this."
"This is payback, bitch," he said. "You think I lied when I said you were mine? Huh?" He punched me again and I whimpered into the cold ground and held back a cry as I felt an excruciating pain in my nose.
"Newsflash, baby," he whispered in my ear. "I wasn't."
He stood up then and I refused to look at him, trying to ignore the pain in my face as I focused on the white wall next to my head.
"Look at me," he demanded.
I refused.
"Bella," he warned.
I ignored him.
He kicked my back but I kept my lips shut tight as I winced.
Jacob lifted me by the hair again and slammed my head into the wall.
My suppressed cry of pain turned into a whimper as black spots appeared in front of my eyes and something warm trickled down my eyebrow and from my nose.
Then, for the second time in one day, darkness.
I didn't know how long I had been out cold before I woke up. The sun was high in the sky, so I assumed it was noon or a little before. My head was still pounding as I sat up.
The house was silent.
I glanced around cautiously for Jacob, but saw nothing but the empty room, the milk and cereal still splattered on the floor.
Slowly, I got to my feet.
My whole head, including my face, was hurting and my back was stiff. My head swam and I had to brace myself against the wall before I passed out again.
Once I was sure that I wasn't going to collapse, I looked towards the door. It was open and I took cautious steps toward it.
Once I was out of the room, I glanced down the hallway. It was on the first floor, so one end of the hallway opened into the kitchen while the other end opened into the living room.
This is your chance, I thought. You can get away, hurry!
I frantically looked towards the kitchen and then to my right at the living room.
Jacob could be in either room; I had a fifty-fifty chance of getting caught.
Heart pounding, I looked to my left, towards the large and brightly lit kitchen.
It looked so welcoming. . .
With one last glance towards the living room, I tiptoed towards the kitchen, adrenaline pumping through my veins.
Once I was there, I glanced around, my eyes falling on the back door that lead to the porch.
I ran to it.
I was a hairsbreadth away from the handle when I felt myself pulled back sharply by the hair once again.
"No!" I cried desperately; I had been so close.
"I'm making this too easy for you," Jacob growled as he pulled me back towards the room. I tried not to fall as he pulled me backwards, his grip on my hair tight.
I had been so close. He couldn't do this to me, he couldn't. . .
He threw me back in the room and I fell to the floor, my right arm spreading out, pointing at the lamp.
That's when I decided that it was time to start fighting back.
I crawled forward and grabbed the lamp, pulling it hard so its cord was pulled out of the socket.
"What the fuck are you-"
Before he could finish, I threw the lamp at him, falling on my back with the power behind my throw.
Jacob ducked and the lamp flew over his head, crashing into the wall and shattering.
I got on my feet as Jacob said, a maniacal growl to his voice, "Oh, you're one of those."
I tried to run, but he grabbed me and punched me so hard that I fell on my ass again, spots forming before my eyes.
As I tried to regain composure and get on my feet, Jacob walked to the broken lamp and picked up a large shard of the broken ceramic.
"You wanted to hit me with a fucking lamp?" he said through clenched teeth. "Let me show you what that feels like."
I didn't know that he had put the shard in between his fisted fingers until after punched me again, the shard stabbing my skin and cutting it.
I cried out at the sharp pain and tried to protect my head but the blows kept coming as I lay in a fetal position on the floor, wishing to die.
"Stop, stop, please," I begged, crying now.
He didn't listen.
He beat me until he was so tired that he was panting. My head was covered with my hands but that only meant that my arms took all the pain. He kicked when his arms got tired and punched when his legs got tired.
When he was done he dragged me over to the mattress and threw me down. I moaned in pain, my eyes opening wide when he straddled me.
"I fucking love it when you moan," he said, roughly pushing my hair out of my face. He took my aching face in his hands and kissed me hard, pure aggression in the movement of his lips. He bit my lip and I screamed, knowing that it would bruise.
I pulled at his hair as hard as I could and he cussed, letting go of my lips to punch me in the nose.
The pain that it caused me was agonizing, and I knew for sure he had broken it now.
Somewhere, buried deep inside, I found the power in me to punch him back. My fist connected with his jaw and a sharp pain went through my wrist. The punch made him angrier as his fist rained down on me even more.
Stupid, stupid, stupid, I cried in my head. He's on top of you; did you expect him to get off? Did you expect to actually hurt him?
I protected my head again but that didn't help much. My hurt wrist was screaming in pain, as were my arms.
I fought as much as I could, scratching his face, slapping him, punching him, trying to kick him off me. I tried to ignore the torture provided by my injured wrist, nose, and arms, clenching my teeth against the pain.
It was like trying to fight a brick wall.
Useless.
The only time he got off me, it was just so he could kick me in the ribs.
The whole time this was going on, I tried my hardest not to cry out. I took the beating silently, wanting nothing more than for him to take out his supposed gun and shoot me.
I just wanted it to end.
It felt like hours before he was done. I remained completely still, playing dead in a way. My whole body ached; there wasn't an inch of my skin that he left untouched. I was afraid to move, wanting him to think that he killed me.
Because that's exactly what he was doing. Slowly, but surely.
I was laying sideways, my face pressed into the wall, so he rolled me onto my back with his foot.
He came on top of me and started kissing my neck as his hands travelled under my shirt and under my bra.
My eyes flew open as his hands travelled down to the waistband of my sweats.
No, not this. Anything but this.
"Stop," I said, my voice hoarse. "Please don't do this."
"Shut up," he said through clenched teeth.
His hand went under my waistband and under my panties, his warm fingers touching me where no one had ever touched.
"No!" I screamed.
I didn't know where my strength came from, but it came from somewhere. I poked him in the eyes, my fingernails connected with his eyeballs, causing him to scream and cuss loudly.
"FUCK!" he cried, pulling his hands out from my pants. "YOU LITTLE BITCH!"
He climbed off, clutching his face, and I took that opportunity to get on my hands and knees and crawl as far as I could in the state I was in. I tasted blood in my mouth as it trickled down from my nose and every single movement was so painful that the black spots came back.
I had only made it halfway to the door when I felt him grab my ankles, my knees giving out as he yanked me and I collapsed onto my stomach.
He dragged me back and I kicked with all my might; my foot was able to connect with his face and I took that opportunity to get on my feet and run.
I ran as far as the living room before he came up behind me and grabbed my arm, twisting it behind me painfully.
He threw me on the floor, but I was able to grab hold of a glass ashtray on a nearby table and smash it into his face as he tried to climb on top of me again. I crawled away, towards the front door, screaming for help in the hopes that someone out there would hear me through the walls.
Jacob kicked me in the back of the head and I was on my stomach once more. He rolled me over onto my back and took my face in his hands. I was in too much pain to move so I just whispered, "Let me go." My voice was seeping with desperation.
Jacob's hard glare bore into mine. "Never."
He was off his guard so I stabbed his eyes with my fingers again. He cried out and grabbed his face with his left hand while his right wrapped around my neck tightly.
He was choking me.
I was struggling to breathe, my fingernails clawing at his hands.
I was suddenly tired of trying to run. I didn't know what I did to deserve this. No one deserved this. Jacob had tried to control me from the beginning, and it was time I put it to a stop. There was no one here to protect me, no one here to help fight Jacob off.
No Edward, no Emmett.
Just me.
I didn't want to be Jacob's victim.
I wanted him to be mine.
I had let go of him just recently, and now it was my turn to tell him that I wasn't fucking around anymore. He had his fun breaking and bending me, making me hate him, but enough was enough.
He couldn't have me anymore.
My lungs were screaming for oxygen as I tried and failed to pry Jacob's fingers from around my windpipe.
He scowled down at me with a bloody face (did I really do that to him?) and his teeth were barred, his eyes bloodshot (did I do that, too?).
I was on the verge of unconsciousness when he finally let me go.
He wanted me to live so he could torture me some more.
I gasped for breath and he took my hair in his hand, bringing my face close to his.
"If I'm going to fuck you, I want you alive for that shit," he said.
He took me in his arms and carried me back to the room as I struggled. I hit him as much as my weak, bruised arms would allow, but it was like he was made of stone.
He threw me down on the mattress and gave me another hard kick in the ribs.
I screamed as I felt something break, the most excruciating pain going through my torso. There was a dark haze in front of my eyes and the pain didn't let me think straight.
"Kill me," I gasped, and it hurt to speak. "Just kill me, shoot me."
Jacob said something, but I didn't know what. My mind was focused on the pain in my broken ribs, the pain that wouldn't let me think, the pain that made it hard to breath.
And if it hurt to breathe, I didn't want to breathe at all.
I had fought him to the best of my ability, but there had been no use.
Jacob walked away, but I didn't dare move.
He could do what he wanted to me, once I was dead.
For the third time that day, the world faded to black.
Except this time I hoped it would stay that way.
I was awake, but I was actually dead.
I was in pain, but I was numb.
I could see, but I was blind.
Where was I?
I couldn't move, it hurt too much.
But I could feel a little. I knew I was lying down, because I could feel something soft under me.
The mattress.
So I was still here, I was still alive.
Damn it.
It hurt so much to breathe.
Why was I still breathing?
I didn't want to breathe anymore.
Then, I felt something.
It wasn't anything on my body; it was something outside of it.
A presence.
Was it Jacob?
I hoped it wasn't.
I hoped he dropped dead somewhere.
I found that I could move my head without the pain in my torso.
The presence felt like it was to my left, so I turned my head in that direction.
My vision was blurry, but I saw someone standing in the doorway.
Who was that?
I blinked, trying to see better.
That face. That beautiful face. I knew that face, I loved that face. It was an angelic face, a face that made me feel like there was hope.
But who was it?
He was tall, with a messy head of bronze hair. His green eyes were wide with horror.
"Edward," I finally gasped.
It hurt so much to say his name.
It hurt so much that for the fourth time, I let myself be swallowed into darkness.
Edward POV
The second her eyes closed, I started moving. I was on my knees next to her in an instant, taking her battered face in my hands.
"Bella, Bella," I said frantically. "Bella open your eyes, please." My voice was breaking, my eyes wet. My heart felt like someone was squeezing it in a vice grip, my chest tightening painfully.
Her face was cold, and my hands shook as I set her head back down and pulled my phone out.
I was breathing heavily, blinking back tears.
I hadn't fucking cried since I was a boy; this girl had the power to do that to me.
I dialed 999 and then cussed when I remembered that the emergency number here was 911.
My thoughts were in a jumble, my hands never ceasing to shake as I kept chanting her name, hoping that she would hear my voice and lead herself back.
She couldn't be gone, she just couldn't.
I'd die. I'd follow her, wherever she was.
I stared at the slow rise and fall of her chest, telling myself that that was a good sign.
"911, what's your emergency?"came the voice from the other end.
I swallowed, my mouth opening but no sound coming out.
"Hello?"
"I need an ambulance," I finally choked out. "310 Haymacker Street, Port Angeles-"
Something hit me hard on the back of the head and I fell to the side, my phone flying out of my hand and sliding across the floor.
Trying to blink the dark spots away, I flipped onto my back in time to roll out of the way a second before Jacob's fist could hit me again.
I hopped onto my feet, one final glance at the broken girl in the corner enough to get the angry blood pumping through me furiously. I only had a second to look at Jacob's face; apparently Bella had put up a fight. He had his own set of cuts on his face.
But that was nothing compared to what I was going to do to him.
He lunged at me and we tumbled to the floor.
My fists connected with his jaw a few times as he tried to get his blows in. I pushed him off of me and he fell on his ass. I took that opportunity to kick him in his face as he tried to get back on his feet.
I wouldn't let him.
I made sure he stayed down as my fists rained down on him, a string of profanities the only think leaving my mouth and going through my head. He got his blows in, but I barely felt them.
All I felt was the months of built up rage, blinding fury that was turning me back into the monster I used to be.
I threw Jacob against the wall and it shook with the impact; his fist collided with my left eye and I returned his blows as he returned mine- a vicious circle of violence. Both of us wanted the other one on the ground, at our mercy.
I was thrown on the ground, Jacob on top of me as he grabbed my neck, choking me. I struggled to breathe, using my hands to try and punch him, but he was leaning out of reach. My lungs were about to burst from lack of air as my fist finally collided with his jaw. His grip loosened and I took that as my chance to take his fingers and bend them backwards, hard.
There was a loud snap and Jacob cried out in agony, falling to the ground and clutching his hands.
I kicked at him, punched him, hit him until he was curled on the ground, helplessly trying to protect is head.
I became pissed that he wasn't fighting back. If he didn't fight back I wouldn't have the satisfaction of knowing that I had fucked him up in fair game.
"Get up and fight you cock munching asswipe," I growled, kicking him until he was on his back, his distorted fingers in the air.
"Can't take what you dish out, huh?" I said as I kicked him in the head.
He groaned and rolled over, getting on his knees and climbing to his feet as I caught my breath. The index and middle finger of his left hand were deformed as he lunged at me again, a demented look on his face. He used his right hand to punch me in the jaw and I was pushed backwards before I tackled him to the ground once more.
Unexpectedly, his fist slammed into my chest and the breath was knocked out of me as he rained down blows on my stomach. I felt like I was losing oxygen, but it wasn't long before he stopped and I was able to shove him away, punching him several times in the face with both fists.
He stumbled back against the wall and I knocked him down on the ground again, his head hitting the floor with a loud thud. He was back on his feet quickly, tackling me so hard that we ended up outside of the room and into the corridor.
I was getting tired; my muscles ached and my face hurt. My knuckles were cut up and sore and my heart was hammering as sweat ran down my forehead.
I threw the Asshat off me and he came for my throat again, but I kicked him in his dick and he fell on his knees, clutching his crotch.
Normally I would sympathize with a bloke that got kicked in the dick, but not this time.
Jacob wasn't human to me.
And at that moment, neither was I.
I kicked him some more, stomping on his face mercilessly.
He was yelling something, probably telling me to stop, but I didn't care. My ears heard nothing but the sound of the blood rushing in my veins and the sound of my frantic heartbeat.
"Dude, stop," Jacob was saying, his face contorted with pain as blood gushed from his nose. "Wait!"
"Fuck you!" I cried, barely recognizing the insane, demonic voice that came out of me.
I wanted him dead, and I wanted it to be slow.
Jacob kept trying to get on his feet, but I kept knocking him down. He was crying out in pain, the pathetic little prick, but I didn't give a fuck.
Somehow he managed to aim a kick at me and I fell on my ass in the kitchen. I grabbed the leg of a stool and threw it at him just as he got on his feet. He grabbed the stool before it could hit him and threw it aside, charging at me like a wild bull, half crouched.
He grabbed me around the waist and we were on the ground again, my foot pushing up to hit him under the chin.
He held up a hand. "Wait," he said, panting. "Just wait."
I paused only for a second before I ignored his plea and punched him in the head.
His head flew back and knocked into the corner of the counter loudly.
His body became limp as his eyes closed and he fell back onto the tiles of the kitchen with a loud thud.
He was still.
I stood over him, panting, waiting for him to get back up.
He didn't.
Was he playing dead?
I kicked him in the shins. "Get the fuck up!"
He was silent.
I kicked him in the face and stepped on his cheek. "I said get the fuck up, asshole!"
He was still, unconscious, and that infuriated me.
My fists started raining down on his head again, the only thought in my head that I wanted to do to him what he did to Bella.
I hit, kicked, and punched his lifeless body, the echoes of skin upon skin reverberating through the kitchen like drums.
I grew tired and stopped my blows, panting.
I stared at him; I had knocked him out cold.
His chest wasn't rising or falling and I paused.
I hesitantly got to my knees next to him and put my ear close to his mouth.
The lightest trickle of breath came out, but nothing more.
He was still breathing.
I stood up just as I heard the sirens. They started out in the distance and then got louder. I wasn't sure if it was the ambulance or the police.
I stared down at Jacob's body, his face paler than usual. An odd kind of panic went through me.
Had I killed him?
I mean, I had wanted to, but not quite literally.
Then again, maybe I did. . .
I had meant to disable him, but had I gone too far?
Did I care?
Just a bit.
I heard pounding footsteps and then Emmett's voice called out, "Bella! Edward!"
"In here!" I called back, my voice hoarse.
Emmett came running into the kitchen, his eyes falling on the lifeless body at my feet.
He stared at it in shock and horror, just as the sound of more pounding feet met my ears.
"What- What did you do to him?" Emmett asked. He almost looked scared.
I shrugged sheepishly. "Beat the shit out of him."
". . . Is he dead?"
"Still breathing."
"Didn't I ask you to keep him conscious so I could get my share in?"
I gestured at Jacob's body, indicating that he should proceed and do what he wanted.
Emmett came forward and gave Jacob a resounding kick in the ribs; it was like watching someone kick a rag doll.
A few paramedics came in, along with a few cops.
"Where's Bella?" Emmett suddenly asked me.
I remembered her then, my throat closing up again. I gestured towards the corridor. "She's bad, mate."
Emmett saw the look on my face and blanched, his face growing bone white.
"Shit," he gasped, and took off towards the corridor.
Two paramedics came forward to look at Jacob.
"What happened?" one of them asked me.
"We got into a fight," I said curtly. No need to tell them the gory details.
I heard Emmett yelling from the other room just as a few more paramedics and police officers entered the house.
"Wait, let me take a look at you!" a paramedic said to me as I went in the direction of the room Bella was in.
"I'm fine," I snapped, hurrying now.
When I walked into the room, the sight I saw before me made me freeze.
Emmett, holding Bella in his arms, tears running down his face.
He set her down gently on the gurney, rolled in by two paramedics, his face the deepest form of sorrow and pain I had ever seen on a man.
"Help her, please," he whispered to a paramedic, his voice agonized. "I can't . . . just, please. . ."
They checked her pulse and said some words of reassurance to Emmett, but I couldn't focus on them.
My eyes were on the girl lying on the gurney, her bruised face battered yet still hauntingly beautiful. I somehow managed to blame myself. If I had gotten here on time, if I hadn't left her house last night, if if if if if. . .
So many fucking ifs and it felt like they were all pointing to me.
"That bastard," Emmett said through gritted teeth, and I looked up to see his furious expression. He suddenly pushed past me and left the room. I watched as they rolled Bella out of the room, and I followed with a heavy heart and aching body.
Outside of the house, the paramedics had already put Jacob into an ambulance.
Emmett was trying to get in somehow, looking like a madman.
"I'll kill him, I'll fucking hill him!" he was yelling, his arms flailing against the closed ambulance door.
A few cops were getting him to calm down and it wasn't long before he was thrown on the ground, arms behind his back. He was mumbling something into the ground, the pavement becoming wet with his tears.
I went to his side and knelt by his head as the cops tried to get him to relax.
"Calm down," I said, my own shaky voice betraying me. "She's going to be fine. But you need to get up and get in the ambulance with her; she needs you."
Emmett didn't respond and kept his face pressed into the concrete.
A few minutes later they let him up and he climbed into the ambulance with his sister. A few paramedics started bitching at me about my own cuts and bruises, but I told them to piss off and headed for the car, intent on following the ambulance to whatever hospital they were headed to.
Before I could reach it, I was stopped by a cop, who questioned me more on what happened at the house.
I knew I couldn't tell him to piss off, so I told him all I could without saying anything that would get me in trouble. I went on about Jacob abusing Bella, about him kidnapping her, about me being told by his friends where she was (without talking about the gun), and about me coming and fucking him up.
"You do realize you truly hurt that young man, don't you?" he asked sternly after I was done.
"That was the intention," I said stiffly.
He stared at me, probably contemplating if he should arrest me for anything. I hadn't necessarily done anything wrong. I had tried to make it look like a testosterone fuelled, teenage fight in my story.
Well, maybe I had done something wrong, but I basically sugar-coated every fucking thing to make me look like the good guy.
"Do you realize that you trespassed on private property?" he asked.
What the fuck. It was like he was trying to find a reason to arrest me.
"No, sir, I didn't," I replied, trying to keep my cool. "There was a massive party here the other night, as you can see by the shitload of rubbish all over the place, and no one was really home to get pissed off at me about trespassing. And I was worried about trying to save the girl I loved, so I didn't give a rat's ass about trespassing, really."
"Well you did a hell of a job with saving her," he said condescendingly.
I almost punched him in the face. The only thing stopping me was the fact that he could throw my ass in prison and also that my whole body was aching. I just didn't want to fight anymore.
"I know," I said.
He let me go after that, asking for my information and shit first so he could get in touch if this turned into a full blown investigation or something.
By the time he was done, the ambulances were long gone and I had to find my own way to the hospital. I followed some signs that indicated where the nearest one was, and silently prayed that I was going to the right one.
I was right.
The second I entered the hospital, I asked for the room of Isabella Swan. They wouldn't disclose that information to me because I didn't really have any relation to her other than being her friend, so I was pretty fucking glad when I heard Emmett call my name.
He had just gotten coffee from the first floor and was headed back up to Bella's room.
"How is she?" I asked in the elevator.
Emmett stared in front of him, his face somber. "Alive."
"That's good."
The rest of the elevator ride was silent and we climbed out on the third floor.
The hospital smell was sickening as I followed Emmett down the corridor and into Bella's room.
Once there, I hesitated before entering.
Emmett walked in, not even turning around to see if I was still behind him. The door slowly shut in my face and I stood there, weighing the pros and cons of seeing Bella in whatever state she was in.
There were no pros.
The cons were that it would probably torture me; I was already blaming myself for the state she was in and seeing her attached to whatever it was she was attached to would only make me suicidal.
I decided to just go in and see her, knowing that I had to see her heart rate monitor to reassure myself that she was still alive.
I took a deep breath and turned the knob, the smell of over-cleanliness assaulting my nostrils.
Emmett sat by her bed, staring at her face with sorrow.
She looked much better than when I had last seen her, but only marginally. Her cuts were cleaned up and her head was wrapped in gauze whilst an oxygen mask covered her mouth and nose. An IV was stuck in her thin arms and the bruises on her face sent a pang through me. But she looked calm and serene, like she was in a deep sleep.
I glanced at her heart rate monitor and saw that it was steady. That relieved me a little, though I wasn't going to be completely relaxed until she was her normal self again.
"She has three broken ribs," Emmett said quietly. "Her nose is broken, her wrist is sprained and she has bruises covering her whole body."
I was silent, his words making my blood boil again.
I hoped Jacob would die.
"Has she woken up yet?" I asked, my voice raspy. I cleared my throat.
Emmett shook his head. "No. But the doctor said she should be up soon. They gave her a lot of anaesthetic, so. . ."
I nodded.
Then, a frightening thought came to me.
"Did he . . .?" I began, but I couldn't finish the question.
I wanted to know if Jacob had taken advantage of her, if he had forced himself on her, if he had taken her virtue against her will.
Emmett shook his head slowly, and I breathed a sigh of relief.
She was still a virgin, and I felt like a huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders. She would need enough therapy as it was, and a sexual assault would only add to her pain.
"Jacob's in a coma," Emmett suddenly said.
My eyes widened. "What?"
"Yeah. You really wanted to kill him, didn't you?"
I stared at him in shock, not knowing what to say.
"I thought I just knocked him out cold," I muttered, not knowing what to make of the situation.
Emmett snorted bitterly. "No shit."
I stood there, feeling odd.
Jacob was in a coma? Wasn't there a rare chance of people waking up out of those things?
I felt odd about that shit; chances were that Jacob wouldn't be in Bella's life anymore because he'd either stay that way forever or be taken off life support.
Either way, I was a murderer.
Again.
Unless there was some miracle and he survived. . .
"How bad is he?" I asked. I needed to know the chances.
"Not good," Emmett said, his eyes still on Bella.
"Is he going to die?"
Emmett hesitated. "I don't know. They say he's deep into the coma, beaten so bad that he's unresponsive to touch, light, sound. . . They don't think he'll make it."
He trailed off and looked at me expectantly.
What the fuck did he expect me to say?
"Oh," was my brilliant response.
Emmett continued to stare at me, his expression stern.
"What?" I said, irritated.
"How could you do that?" he hissed, sounding almost angry.
I stared at him incredulously. "Are you fucking joking? You're the one who told me to fuck him up good-"
"That's not the point. You lost control, dumbass! Didn't you know that once he was unconscious you should probably stop and not push it any further?"
Of course I did. But I didn't want to.
"Look," I said. "I'm sorry I didn't keep his eyes open long enough for you to have a good go at him, but-"
"It's not about that," he said loudly, then lowered his voice before continuing. "This isn't about me being able to kick his ass; this is about you getting into trouble with the law."
"What?"
"If Jacob's family decides to press charges against you, which they most likely will, you could be going to jail."
Oh, fuck. I hadn't thought of that.
"Christ," I hissed, running a hand through my hair.
"That's right," Emmett said, glaring at me. "I've learned to love you as a brother, and the last thing I want is to see you hauled off to prison to become some inmate's bitch."
"That's not funny."
"Wasn't supposed to be."
We glared at each other, a flurry of emotions rising in me.
I had fucked up, big time.
But I couldn't lie that the satisfaction was still deep inside of me.
Because, finally, Jacob Black was out of the picture.
And it was about fucking time.
A/N: *pops open bottle off champagne* We can officially say that Jacob Black is out of the picture! Let's celebrate!
Time to get E/B going. :)