This chapter is strictly M rated for adult situations (rape and sex.) Read at your own discretion. Thanks guys!
-Bella POV-
When the nightmares engulfed me (as always,) it took me back to a piece of my dark past; the one that I usually kept hidden from my concious mind.
"No! Stop!" I had screamed frantically, but there was no one to hear me in this ghost town. Five minutes ago, as I forged the abandoned town for food, I had snuck up behind a man wearing a thick trench coat, thinking he might have some money on him.
My thin hand had silently dipped into the man's pocket, but his cold eyes met mine, with a strange gleam that made me shiver. I immediately retreated my hand, and whirled to run, but he grabbed my other hand and pulled me back, crunching down on the frail fingers until the protesting bones snapped with excruciating pain in his rough hands. His thin lips turned up, as if in satisfaction when my mouth opened wide in a scream that echoed throughout the deserted home.
The man who I tried to steal from earlier now pushed me down with sudden strength, onto a hard wooden bed with no mattress. My vision flashed white for a moment as my skull recoiled off of the headboard. My body slumped, suddenly limp against my own will. My mind scrambled to consciousness.
I forced my tunneled eyes open frantically, dizzily looking up to see the arc of the man's stubbled jaw, as he bent over me, grabbing my wrists, and tying each one to a wooden bedpost.
"Oh god, please stop..." I was sobbing in desperation now; the hot tears made my hair stick wetly to the sides of my face.
"If you don't shut up, I'll tape your mouth shut." He threatened darkly. His raspy voice made me shudder, and a loud sob involluntarily escaped my throat. I cried out as he reached out for a wide roll of duct tape.
Once I couldn't speak, and had tape wrapped around my entire head, he seemed satisfied enough to leave me alone in the dim room. My desperacy made my adrenaline race, and I tried my best to pull myself out of the man's trap, but found the circulation in my wrists cut instead. Movement flashed in the corner of my eyes and I turned.
My wide eyes met the black irises of the man's eyes again. He was in the doorway, twirling a pair of scissors around his fingers. The scissors caught a malicious gleam even in the dim surrounding.
Oh god, what was he going to do...?
He approached me slowly before he kneeled by the foot of the bed. He traced the scissors against the calves of my jeans slowly, as if he were teasing me, and then abruptly cut straight up them. I screamed and cried against the tape muffling my mouth as he cut and ripped the rest of my clothing off. My bare back arched off of the rough splinters on the wooden bed frame.
When I looked up, the man in the trench coat was unclothed, completely exposed waist-down. I was only 15, I had never seen that part of a man before but suddenly, I was very afraid. The man pushed against my legs with rough, digging hands as he forced himself into me. The sensitive skin between my legs tore and burned like black fire as he satisfied himself, shoving himself deeper and deeper into me with every thrust. I struggled to fight, but it was useless.
A cold sweat developed across my skin and threatened to sting my tear-filled eyes. I couldn't move. I couldn't speak. Was I losing consciousness?
I came back to reality when the man ripped the tape from my mouth in a quick motion. I recoiled, crying out in pain. As my mouth opened, he took the oppourtunity to shove his tongue between my cheeks as his thrusts were growing increasingly violent, and I was sure I was bleeding.
My shaking hand that was tied to the post struggled to reach the night table, with the scissors on it. I heard a loud growl, and my eyes flashed quickly back to the man-his eyes were closed, his fingernails dug and raked down my back, peeling back my skin in a sorry orgasm that would surely scar. My chance. I grabbed the scissors and snapped the rope bounding my wrist to the bedpost. My hand was free.
I immediately stabbed the man straight in his back, as hard as I could. He fell limp on top of me on impact, and I pushed heavy body off of me, wincing as a trail of blood rolled down my inner thigh. I cried with my face in my hands, vomiting and choking as I struggled to comprehend what had happened to me, let alone what I had done, again.
I was used. I was filthy. But what hurt me most of all was that, I was just an object. This meant nothing to him or anyone else, except me. I stared at my naked body in a cracked mirror, narrowing my eyes in disgust. The three, bleeding lines on my back reminded me of him again and again and I screamed, covering my ears with my hands, not wanting to believe this was real, I was dirty.
It was after if taken his clothes and dressed in them, then cleaned myself up, that the police had arrived, and saw his naked body and the blood on my hands. I was immediately arrested for sexual assault, and charged for my second murder.
"Bella! Wake up!" The familiar voice sounded far and distant. I flickered my eyes open, gasping for breath. Edward's arms were around my shoulders, and I was being cradled in his arms. It wasn't now, it was just the past, again. Just another night-terror, I realized it, but I couldn't unclench my curled fingers that dug into his arms. He tenderly soothed my muscles with his hands, and only then did my shaking, tense body go limp.
"It was just a dream, Bella. It's not real, I'm here." He cooed. I found myself sobbing just as hard as I did in the dream. I turned around, so I could hide my face in Edward's chest-I didn't want him to see me crying like this. "Hey, what are you crying about?" He asked tenderly, as he shushed me, comforting me. I straddled his body and crushed my face into his shoulder, crying every tear-drop of sorrow I had in me. Edward stroked my hair softly, his fingers were warm against my scalp as he let me cry on him.
"Is this about what I asked earlier? I'm sorry, baby, I didn't mean to bring up bad memories..." Edward rocked me a little but I continued crying and gasping for breath, not seeming to have enough air. He pulled me away and lifted my face with a finger. "Bella," Hearing his voice was reassuringãžit momentarily erased the man's voice and taste from my memories. "What can I do to make you feel better?" I brushed as much moisture as I could from my face. God, I'm such a mess... I looked down so I wouldn't have to meet Edward's eyes. "Nothing." I sniffled and sat up from Edward's arms to sit up on my own. I wasn't going to tell him I was raped. It was just a sign of weakness, I thought to myself. That I couldn't fight to save myself. That I was used. Not good enough, once again. I'd never be good enough for anyone, especially Edward.
Sincere, honest, and pure Edward.
I felt my tear-stained cheek being cupped against Edward's warm hand, and it startled me from my negative thoughts. His thumb stroked my cheek soothingly, his eyes were calm. "Whatever you're thinking, I need you to stop it." He murmured. I saw the warm chocolate irises that made me feel instantly calmer.
"I love you, Bella." I nodded and swallowed my tears.
"I know." I muttered.
He kissed my lips softly and chastely. I tasted peppermint and his essence for only a moment, then it was gone. I felt a loss as he moved back and I brought my fingers to my lips, as if to remember the feeling of him. The first kiss we'd had in such a long time.
-Edward POV-
"You stay here," I smiled gently and emphatically, wiping the last of her tears away from her shocked face. "I'll make you warm coffee." I stood, and was about to leave the room when Bella grabbed my hand. I thought she was going to offer to come with me, or ask for sugar in her coffee.
Instead, Bella pulled me down to her and kissed me, hard on the mouth.
I found myself responding immediately, and she took advantage of my compliance; deepening the kiss, until our tongues touched. I moaned into her mouth as I pulled her closer. She tasted of cinnamon, god, I couldn't get enough! Despite my eurphoric state and my selfish ache for her, though, I knew this was a distraction from the sorrow she was feeling. I forced myself away to try to tell her that.
"Bella, maybe now isn't a good ti-" I tried to say, but her lips captured mine again, interrupting me in mid-sentence.
Bella's hands trailed from my hair, down, against my chest, where she caressed the aching muscles there, all without withdrawing from the kiss. I sighed against her lips and helplessly felt my arousal grow despite my own will. But I didn't want this to be about me or my pleasure, it was about Bella; what I could finally give her.
I heatedly rolled her over across the mattress while gasping, touching, feeling. My hands found her breasts, and I cupped them gently through her thin pajamas. Bella whimpered, arching her back and pushing them further into my hands; I groaned. Oh god, how soft they were in my hands, and the tips were so deliciously hard beneath my palms. Bella moaned quietly, and breathlessly whispered my name over and over, like a mantra; I was addicted to the sound of it.
Bella's hooded eyes suddenly glinted, and she started pulling my shirt off. I allowed her to do so, and her eyes appreciatively looked over my bare upper body. I felt proud and a little smug for the first time, but overall, so lascivious. My shirt was on the floor, she placed my hands suggestively on the top of her pajama top, where the buttons were. I unbuttoned them, and pushed it off of her shoulders, leaning in to chastely kiss the bare skin of her shoulder, her delicate collarbones, finally, the peaks of her breasts. Bella cried out and arched her back at the touch, and I instinctively brought my lips down to suckle them gently. The sounds of Bella's moans and breaths filled the air, spurring me on even further. I moved my fingers across her, exploring the soft skin of her back.
I felt a raised line beneath my fingers. Had I imagined it? I thought nothing of it until I felt two more, identically raised lines. That was when Bella froze beneath me, her eyes wide. She immediately pushed me away, hard by my chest, and stood.
"Bella, wait!" I pleaded, but she had grabbed a robe and left the bedroom. I pinched the bridge of my nose between my fingers in frustration. Shit, I had screwed up. I thought back to the flurry of events that had happened, and didn't find one unpleasant thing about it. What did I do? What had happened anyways? I took a good minute and a deep breath before I stood and followed Bella.
"Bella?" I found her clutching a mug cup at the barstool. There were tears in her distant eyes as she looked away from me. I felt a sharp pang of guilt; I had made Bella cry. She had experienced so much sadness in her past. She had cried enough, she didn't deserve to ever cry again in two lifetimes, yet I had done it again. I sat on the seat beside her, anyways and took a breath.
"Bella," I started apologetically. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable-" She cut me off, angrily.
"You're damn right about that." She growled, her eyebrows arched fiercely. I continued, still wanting to make amends.
"I want you to know that it doesn't matter to me. Your past, your scars. I will not judge you for that. I won't think any less of you... I think you're beautiful. You always will be, to me." She remained silent.
"Bella, will you please let me see?" I asked quietly. Her lip quivered, but she nodded anyways and stood, pulling my hand up for me to stand as well. She turned around, and she slowly let her robe fall. The silky fabric slid across her skin to reveal two things. First, her silky-soft, creamy-white, delicate skin and then, secondly, the three long, shining scars that marred her skin from her shoulder blades, down to the small of back. I sucked in a breath.
Upon closer inspection, I realized that the scars were thin and jagged, as if someone had raked their fingernails down her back. Anger suddenly fueled all of my hurt and I took Bella's bare shoulders square in my hands, turned her around, and looked her in the eye.
"Bella, what happened?" When she didn't answer, I continued, as calmly as I could. "Who did this to you, Bella?"
Her shoulders shook in a silent sob beneath my hands as she hurriedly pulled the robe back on.
"I swear I will kill the bastard that did this to you!" I roared. Bella's face paled, stark white.
"You can't kill him!" She wailed. I felt my shoulders tense and my jaw clench so hard my teeth hurt. It was a him? Now I was ready to flay him alive. He had hurt my Bella. He had scarred her internally and externally, so badly that Bella was afraid I would pass judgement on her, or even worse, hurt her! I was seething with anger now, and I did my best to keep it under control. Despite the hate I felt for this nameless bastard who carved marks into Bella's delicate skin, I refused to do anything that might make Bella uncomfortable, or even worse, afraid of me.
"Give me one good reason I can't kill him." I spit between clenched teeth. Bella hoarsely spoke.
"You can't kill him because he's dead." The room suddenly tensed in the silence that followed as I waited for her to continue. "He's dead because..." Her glassy eyes were distant, and almost paranoid. She sucked in a deep breath. "He's dead because I... killed him."
Bella abruptly clamped her hand over her mouth and sprinted towards the bathroom. I heard the door slam behind her and violent retching that followed as I slumped to my weak knees in horror.
What on Earth had happened to my Bella?
I know. Crazy twist, right? Thank you for reading, and if you like, drop a review :) have a great night, guys!
-Your Squid.