Cherry says she's a romantic at heart. Lies. The only candlelit dinner we've ever had was the one that ended in torches. Cinny saw Matt Lauer blow something. Excuse my chuckles, NY lova. Mia, baby, waddle.
Readers: Happy Monday! Let's do this... (psst-thanks for reading. I heart u guys!)
Chapter Twenty-Five
"Come with me to Texas."
"I'm getting my brother and sister."
"I need you to come with me or I won't go."
I could unravel the layers of this dress, ruffle by ruffle, and still not be able to find myself.
Breaker's drunken reddish, green eyes stare at me, annoyed that I have yet to move.
"Can't you do this without me?" My fingers trace the smooth column behind me, but it's not what's holding me upright. It's my pride and without it, I'll fall just as he has.
"No." His reply is short and unguarded, filled with ultimatums and selfishness that has nothing to do with his siblings. It took me 17 years, but I know now that being stupid and being in love are the exact same things. There's no difference, no variations between the two. And with Breaker, I find myself being both.
"Breaker, I—"
The glass doors behind him open and close loudly. Carlisle storms towards us, dressed formally in his suit and wearing an angry expression.
"Eddie, get your ass back in there." Carlisle stares at his son, but his eyes only flicker to me once. I'm nothing in his world, merely "sexual entertainment" as he once called me.
"I'm leaving, Pop." Breaker holds my gaze and refuses to turn around. Carlisle clutches his shoulder, twisting Breaker on the balls of his leather-clad shoes.
"I'm not fucking around, Son. Aro told you that Monday morning—"
"I said, no. Move out of the way." Breaker pushes his father's hand and the two of them battle without saying a single word. The vein in Carlisle's forehead throbs, and it's as threatening as his presence.
Carlisle laughs, gesturing his finger at me and winking. "Ahh, I get it. The whole 'love' thing, right? I'll play along. Forget Tanya. Sorry that I made you attend with her. She's a saucy little thing, isn't she? Thought you two looked good together."
The truth hits me like a ton of bricks. I don't know what's worse—knowing that Carlisle forced his son or that Breaker used it to his advantage to make me jealous.
"Listen," Carlisle wraps his arm around Breaker's shoulder. "I know we got off on the wrong foot. Aro and the gun situation was a bit dramatic for my taste if you ask me. But you trying to change your mind ain't going to happen. On Monday, you've got a job to do and this will all be over with. We can get things back to how they used to be. Then you can fuck little Miss Justice all you want. I don't give a sh—"
At the mention of my name, Breaker twists Carlisle's arm backwards, wrangling himself out of the hold. "Keep her out of this, you fucking hear me?"
Carlisle winces in pain, but Breaker refuses to let him go. "Eddie, this isn't a game. More people will get hurt. Think about our town. Think about Collin and Charlotte! We have to—"
"Justice, we're leaving!" Breaker drops his father's arm and pushes him to the side. Grasping my hand, he leads me to the steps.
"Son, I'm warning you…"
Glancing back, Breaker glares at Carlisle. "That's the difference between you and I, Pop. I am thinking about Collin and Charlotte. And that's more than you've ever done! You tell that shithead Aro he's on his own."
I realize my decision to leave has been taken from me. Breaker makes the choice for me and we run down the steps with Carlisle yelling his name. Racing to his sheriff's car, Breaker opens the door, practically shoving me into the seat along with the weighted fabric of my gown. He slams it shut, then jogs to the driver's side. Turning the ignition, he peels out onto the street, the tires squealing behind us.
I glance out of the window where I see Carlisle at the bottom of the steps, tossing his hands up in the air.
I'm not sure if I've escaped a monster or managed to leave with one.
.
.
.
The silence kills me.
Breaker grips the wheel tightly, his eyes focused on the dark roads. He doesn't say anything for miles and miles as sycamore trees and hidden swamps whizz by us. We finally reach a stop sign at a deserted four way intersection and he slams on the breaks, causing me to lunge forward. I avoid hitting the dashboard by reaching my hands out just in time.
Breaker's head falls to his white knuckles and I watch in agony as a cry escapes him. He pounds the steering wheel once, then drops his head again.
My pulse throbs and when I carefully whisper his name and touch his shoulder, he explodes.
"Fuck!" A roar bellows through him, making his entire body shake. Breaker yanks the hand-held radio attached by a cord right from the center, leaving torn wires in its place. He bangs it against the control system until all of the little red and green lights flash off. There's nothing left for him to connect to in case he's in danger, but he's only a hazard to himself at the moment.
"I tried, Justice, I swear I fucking tried," he whispers. His chest heaves and snot and tears run down his face. He doesn't bother wiping them away. I feel useless, unable to find the right words to comfort him.
I suspect there aren't any. Breaker's drowning in his own misery and the only one who can save him is himself.
"They don't quit," he says in an empty voice. "On Monday I'm supposed to tear Forksdale apart until there isn't a salt mine left. All at once. Aro said I was taking too long. 'Fuck the north mine,' he told me. 'Close 'em all.'"
Panic sticks in my throat, making it impossible to swallow.
"I was going to," he admitted, wiping his face with the sleeve of his black jacket. "I don't give a shit about this town. Rocksville is my home. Those people are my family. I bled for those folks. I was there when Mary delivered her baby, right on Gillian Lane. I saved Timmy when his foot got stuck on the train tracks. I carried Old Man Arthur's casket the day he died. Those people need me, Justice."
His words burn my tongue and I attempt to take in stifling and stale air. It's no use; when I'm around him, I suffocate.
"But I couldn't do it," he continues. "Forksdale ain't my home, Justice, but you are. And hurting them would be hurting you. I told Aro that and he… he…"
He doesn't need to finish his explanation. I see the faint red marks around his neck, the lightened circle of a gun barrel faded on his temple. Breaker turns his head towards me and I see death written all over his face.
It was always there.
"I don't know what to do anymore, baby," he whimpers. "I don't know what to do."
I touch the stubble on his jaw and he leans into my hand, desperate for salvation.
I have none to give.
"You do the right thing," I tell him. "You drive."
.
.
.
Breaker speeds down every back road imaginable. He's scared Carlisle or Aro know where he's going. He's frightened they'll come after us. He's paranoid and on edge and won't even let the windows down. Instead, he blasts the air conditioning on high. When I shiver, he grips the wheel with one hand and shrugs out of his jacket with the other.
"Here." He drapes it over me and I tug it up to my chin, grateful for the warmth.
"Thank you." It smells like him, earthy with a hint of foreign cigars. "How much further?"
We've only been driving a few hours and every second has been unbearable. Breaker doesn't speak, so I hold conversations in my head. I think of what I'll say when Mama rips me a new one for leaving, or what Carlisle will do when we get back. None of the imagined situations bodes well for either of us.
"We're almost to the Texas border. We should make it to Bridgeton by morning." He looks exhausted and I doubt we'll make it anywhere if he falls asleep.
"Maybe we should stop," I suggest softly.
"No."
I hate how he tries to control everything. The truth is, he has no control. It's all for show; he's trying to give the impression of authority when it's already been stripped from him.
"I'm hungry," I tell him firmly. "I didn't get a chance to have dinner because you brought your girlfriend before I could eat. And I've been up since the crack of dawn because the Flower Fairy decided to make a visit. And I'm cold because I'm wearing a dress I didn't get a chance to change out of. So unless you want me hitchhike it back to Forksdale, I'm asking nicely for you to pull over."
Breaker taps the wheel and groans. "Fine."
I breathe a sigh of relief.
"Were you always this manipulative?" A small smile tugs at the corner of his lips.
"No," I answer flatly, staring out of the glass. "I just learned from the best."
.
.
.
Breaker returns to the car from the all-night convenience store carrying bags that he hands me as he opens the door.
"The attendant says there's a motel right up ahead. Should only take a few minutes." He glances backwards to reverse the car as I dig through the bags. There's tons of snacks and drinks and cheap cigars. I reach into the heaviest one, pulling out a small camouflage t-shirt and gray sweatpants that have "Hunter Lover" emblazoned across the back. There's even a pair of heavy boots in my size.
"Sorry," he apologizes quietly. "That's all they had."
"It's fine, thanks." He nods and drives until he reach the small hotel. It's run down and the blinking sign flashes with two missing letters. There's plenty of cars in the parking lot, surprisingly, and when Breaker parks he tells me to wait.
It's all I've done for him. I don't know anything else.
I watch him enter the small lobby and while he's inside, I ravish the beef jerky and swallow an entire bottle of soda. Mama never lets me eat this junk and it tastes delicious.
After ten minutes, Breaker jogs back, holding a key triumphantly. He gestures for me to get out as he opens his trunk and removes a black bag. Once we're carrying all that we can hold, I follow him to the furthest door, room 15. There's not a single light on in any of the rooms and Breaker is careful not to make a sound.
When he opens the door and flicks on the light, I see an old television, dresser and one large bed. Breaker throws the bags down on the small round table and takes mine as well.
"Last room left," he explains, noticing my expression. "You can have the bed. I'll sleep on the floor."
I don't even try to refuse his offer. I'm exhausted and after the long day I've had, I don't exactly want to share the bed with him. We've got too much tension and too much anger running through us.
Taking the bag of clothes, I try not to wrinkle my nose at the smell of the room. It appears to be clean but the second I see a bug, I'm hightailing it out of here. The bathroom is small but when I turn the shower nozzle, the water is hot. Stripping out of my dress, I peel off my underclothes and step under the heat. It feels good against my skin and sadly enough, it's the best feeling I've had all day.
.
.
.
Once Breaker is showered and I'm comfortable under the sheets in the t-shirt and sweatpants, he sits in the chair at the table. He turns his chair sideways, peeking out of the window every so often and using his gun moving the curtain.
"You need to sleep," I tell him, watching him cautiously in the dim-lit room. "No one is coming for us."
"I don't know that. I need to stay alert." He unsuccessfully tries to fight a yawn and looks out of the window again.
"Breaker."
"Justice."
Fine. I'm not going to argue with him. Heaven forbid I actually care. If he doesn't give a shit, neither do I. I snuggle further into the bed when I hear his voice again.
"I'm just trying to protect you."
I sigh, using my hands to sit up. All of my anger rises to the top, seeping out until it finds its target. "How's that working out for you so far, huh? Let's see, you couldn't protect your town, you couldn't protect my town, you have to travel across the state border just to get your siblings, and now we're huddled in a shitty-smelling motel with you holding your gun like a vigilante. You can't even protect yourself, Breaker."
You never could.
He slams his gun on the table and I fear it'll go off. When it doesn't, he glares at me. "You don't know what you're talking about."
I roll my eyes. "I think I do. I think you made a mistake and instead of fixing the first one, you just kept making poor decision after poor decision. And then, when that wasn't bad enough, you dragged me into it. Why couldn't you leave me alone? Why'd you have to talk to me? Why'd you take me to the library that day? Why did you have to love me at all?"
Breaker blinks and I steel myself for the harsh words that are sure to pour out of his mouth. Instead, his soul burns and I do nothing to put it out.
"I tried," he answers honestly. "Every fucking day I tried. That first day I saw you, standing out in the crowd, you were the first reason I hesitated. I knew why I was there, what I had to do, but I saw you, Justice. There you were, passionate over some stupid library books and I questioned myself. I questioned our whole damn plan. I meant to ruin Forksdale, plain and simple. But I never thought about the people in it. I never knew Forksdale's Isabella Justice Swan, founder and president of the Ladies' Circle, was going to turn my life upside down. I never knew how funny she was, or how pretty, or how much I was going to love her.
"I tried," he repeats, swallowing. "I tried not to think about you. Or want you. That was the hardest damn part—keeping you at bay. You were too innocent. You didn't understand what I was capable of. And I swear, if I could take it back—my actions, the salt mine—I would. But I don't regret loving you, Justice. I don't regret a single moment I spent with you. All this shit I've been fighting for, every damn kiss you've ever given me, makes it worthwhile. I'm lost and I know that. I know you don't want me and I know that I've fucked up your perfect little life. But I also know I can't live without you. So yeah, that's why I love you Justice. Because I don't know how not to."
Tears escape from my eyes and my chin quivers. Guilt flows through my veins and it takes everything to hold myself together. My heart sinks and rises and it flips-flops in my chest. I'm trying to absorb everything he says, but it'll never make sense.
Love never does.
I don't know what to say. It's a constant struggle with him. I always say too much or not enough. Instead, I change the subject.
"That book we took, about Diane and Curtis, I read it all the way to the end. Curtis saves her and he dies."
"I figured," Breaker says quietly, avoiding my eyes. "The heroes never make it. You've reached the end of our story, Justice. Unfortunately for you, I'll live."
.
.
.
"No! Breathe, Charlotte! Breathe!"
I awaken in the dark room and Breaker is yelling in his sleep. His head turns from side to side and the gun hangs loosely in his hand. I jump up out of bed before he can hurt himself. Prying the cold metal out of his fingers, I shake his shoulders. "Breaker!"
He moans, swinging, and I move just in time. I hold his arms down and stand in front of him. "Wake up. Please, wake up!"
Breaker gasps suddenly, choking as he opens his eyes widely. "Charlotte!"
"No," I reply softly. "It's just me. You're having a nightmare."
It's not the truth. Sometime in his past that scene was reality, and nothing I do can make it go away. I pull on his arm. "Come to bed. You can't sleep in a chair all night."
Breaker looks disorientated, but he stands up weakly and I help him stumble through the darkness. Yanking back the comforter, I make him sit and I pull his legs up on the mattress. I cover him up and run my fingers through his hair. He looks so vulnerable, and I know he's not truly aware.
His eyes flutter and I walk back to my side, climbing in. I keep my distance, adjusting my pillow and closing my eyes. I sigh, trying to go back to sleep. My conscience won't let me.
Nor will Breaker.
His whispers my name in the dark and it's like I can see them in the shadows. I roll over slowly and he reaches blindly for me.
I let him, because love always says yes.
I scoot to his side and he hums, wrapping his arm around my waist. My hand is at it again, running through his disheveled hair without my permission. I rub his scalp until he breathes evenly.
"Love you, Just Justice," he murmurs and I don't know if he even knows what he's saying.
But my heart does.
I kiss his forehead, surrounded by his scent and the thought, the absolute wish that everything will be okay.
It won't, but for now I pretend it is.
"I love you too, Breaker."