Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight
-x-x-x-x-
Chapter 24 - The Seductress Cometh
"Your dad has a shotgun?" Edward asks in alarm. We're on our way to Forks, almost fifty miles outside of Seattle, with nothing but long stretches of highway all around us. We'd originally entertained ourselves by guessing who sung each song that came on the radio; Edward won that game, but only because it was an oldies station and he has a freakishly good memory.
Now he wants me to prepare him by telling him things about my father.
"He has four, actually, but he keeps them locked in a cabinet," I calmly explain. "If he decides to shoot you with one, you'll have at least a three-minute head start while he finds the key. Now his police gun, on the other hand…"
"Police gun?"
"I told you he's a cop."
"He's off duty," Edward grumbles, clearly distressed, as his eyes rest on the pavement in front of us. It's a cool, overcast day, but dry – it hasn't rained in almost a week, and the clouds above us are white and nonthreatening.
"Chief Swan is never off duty, Edward," I remind him.
"You did tell him about me, right? He knows I'm coming?"
"Nah, I figured we'd surprise him."
"Are you serious?" He looks downright panicked, and I laugh openly, not even bothering to hide my amusement. Edward scowls and tries to pinch my side, and in his distraction he pulls the steering wheel and swerves the car towards the center of the road. Luckily, there's no one around us.
That doesn't stop me from chastising him like my firstborn. "What the hell, Bo Duke? Keep your eyes on the road! Killing me won't make my dad any less likely to shoot you."
"He'd have to find me first."
"You clearly underestimate him." I settle down in my seat, trying to soothe my frazzled nerves. "Will you pull over at the next exit? I have to pee now, thanks to you."
"We only have about a hundred more miles. I think you can hold it."
"So help me God, Edward, you better pull over."
"Or what?" he challenges.
"I'll pee in your car, that's what."
"That'd be just like you to pee on my leather seats, Bella."
"Don't try me, Edward."
Fortunately for his leather seats, he pulls over. I use the bathroom, stock up on Combos and bottled water, and we pile back into the car, ready to complete the remaining eighty-five miles to Forks. Our conversation continues much the same way, with occasional bantering and tidbits here and there about my father. My dad has started seeing a woman named Sue, a single mom who used to be friends with my mother. She and my mother haven't spoken in years, but it's strange nonetheless.
Sue is supposed to be coming to dinner tonight. Well, technically she's cooking the dinner. At my dad's house.
Dad seemed so pleased at being able to give us a home cooked meal our first night there that I can't help but feel somewhat thankful for her. Lord knows, a man can only survive so long on dry cereal and breakfast pastries.
As we enter Forks, I begin pointing out various landmarks from my past. "Down there is where I went to elementary school," I say, and, "If you go down that road, there's a campground where me and my dad went camping."
"Your mom didn't go?" Edward asks.
"Nah, she hated that kind of stuff. Occasionally one of my dad's friends would come, and we took Sue's son sometimes."
"How old are her kids?"
"Seth was only two years younger than me. Leah was real young – she was only three years old or so when I moved to Florida. I saw her once a couple years ago, but Seth lives in California now. I haven't seen him in ages."
Edward's countenance doesn't change as we near my dad's house. I give straightforward directions, telling him to turn here and there, and soon we're pulling into the driveway. My dad's house is two-story and white-paneled, with a build-up of filth in the edge of each pane from the constant rain. The rails to the porch were painted white long ago, but now the paint is chipped, the wood weathered.
It's not an ugly house, but it's old and in need of updating. My dad is reliable with his job, never calling out or missing a day of work, but I'm not sure he's ever had the motivation to roll up his sleeves and better his home.
I open the door and step out. It's drizzling here, unlike in Seattle, and the rain is thick and misty. Edward runs a hand through his hair and sighs, the only indication that he's nervous.
"I'll get the bags," he says, following my lead, and I see him eye my dad's police cruiser warily. "Does he drive that thing all the time?"
"Not all the time." I can't help smiling. Dad normally leaves his cruiser at the station, driving his truck when he's off-duty. He probably brought the cruiser home purposefully, trying to scare Edward. And from the looks of things, it's working.
Edward mutters something under his breath that I can't hear. He grabs our bags from the backseat and an empty Combos wrapper flutters to the ground. He snatches the wrapper up, throws it back in the car, and slams the door shut.
The door to the house opens before we reach the porch. First the interior, slowly, and then the screen. It creaks on its hinges, groaning in protest, as my dad pushes it all the way open, holding the door for Edward, whose hands are full with the bags. Dad glances at him briefly and then smiles widely at me.
"Hey sweetie. Glad you two had a safe trip." I give him a quick, welcoming hug, then pull back and turn to Edward.
"Dad, this is Edward. Edward, Dad. Charlie."
Edward sets one bag on the porch and reaches out to shake Dad's hand. Their shake is firm, both attempting to impress the other. Dad is standing up straight, his full height of five foot ten – still a few inches shy of Edward – but his stance is solid and sure. Edward's doesn't waiver either.
"It's nice to meet you, Sir."
"Call me Charlie. You have a good trip?"
"It was great. Surprisingly dry, too, for the most part."
Charlie glances out into the yard at the misty rain. It's certainly not dry any longer. But when is it not raining in Forks? It's even worse than Seattle.
"Well let's get you kids settled. Sue should be coming over soon. She's bringing her daughter, too. You remember Leah, right Bella?"
"Yeah, of course."
Leah was barely over ten years old the last I saw her. Small and skinny, she wore 'NSYNC shirts and complained about being bored constantly. With a start, I realize she should be about sixteen by now.
Dad heads to the kitchen while I lead Edward up the stairs. There are pictures of me on the wall, ones Mom hung that Dad never took down. Me with a gap in my front teeth, me with a side-ponytail in the third grade when I wanted nothing more than to be like Claudia from The Baby-sitters Club. With horror, I realize Edward is eyeballing every picture he passes with amused interest.
"It's not funny," I hiss at him, even though he never laughed.
Edward grins. "Don't get so defensive, Madonna. You were cute."
"I did not look like Madonna!" Although with the gap teeth, the resemblance is a bit striking.
Damn it!
"If you say so," Edward relents, but he can barely suppress his smile.
I lead him to my room and he puts the bags on the floor. It's exactly the same every time I visit – faded yellow walls with an atrocious flowered border near the ceiling, a worn, purple bed-spread, a creaky old double-sized bed that belonged to my mother before she married. The dresser is carved with a pen in several places, phrases that are scratched out and rewritten and long forgotten.
There are no pictures in my room. The few I had were taken to Florida, and my visits here were so brief that I never felt the need to accessorize the place. It's plain, like an old-fashioned guest-bedroom with mutilated furniture.
Edward looks around with interest anyway, probably trying to discern exactly what I was like as a child. From our surroundings, I'd wager I come across as a pretty boring one.
"I took all my stuff to Florida when I was little," I say, grabbing Edward by the elbow. "Come on, let's go downstairs."
Edward hesitates. "Where am I going to sleep?"
"In here," I say, as if it should be obvious.
"In your room? Then where are you sleeping?"
"Well not on the floor," I answer with a small laugh. "I know the bed is small, but you're gonna have to suck in your gut for a night and make room." I reach forward and pat him on his very flat belly, teasing.
"In the same bed?" Edward looks mildly horrified. "What about your dad?"
"What about him?"
"He's not gonna want me sleeping with you."
"Sleeping with me, or sleeping with me?" I wag my eyebrows invitingly and Edward crosses his arms, frowning.
"Same difference."
"Believe it or not, my dad isn't that old-fashioned."
"All dads are that old-fashioned. Especially ones that own guns."
"Please. I'm twenty-six. And you think he doesn't let Sue spend the night?"
"Do you think he does?"
"I try not to think about it at all. But… yes, I think he does."
"Well it's different. It's his house, he can do whatever he wants. Did you even ask him if it's okay?"
I roll my eyes with a sigh, then make my way out of my room and back down the stairs, leaving Edward no choice but to follow. "You worry way too much."
Dad is sitting on the couch. When he sees us, he asks if we want a beer, then makes his way to the kitchen to retrieve the beverages. When he opens a bottle and hands it to me I cock an eyebrow at Edward as if to say, See?
That doesn't prove anything, Edward's returning scowl answers. Remember? My dad tried to pour Scotch down my throat at dinner.
I huff and take a big swallow of my beer. Whatever.
Edward seems tense at first, and for a moment I worry that they'll have nothing in common and nothing to talk about. But then my dad asks Edward if he likes to fish, and some unknown part of Edward – a part that used to fish with his uncle every weekend until he was thirteen – unleashes itself, and before I know it my dad is dragging him to the garage to gloat over his fishing equipment and they've agreed on taking a trip to the lake in the morning.
I change the channel from Sports Center to Tosh.O in order to pass the time. There's a video of a guy dirty-dancing in a speedo when they reenter the house.
"Bella! What the hell are you watching?" my dad bellows.
I nearly jump out of my skin, whirling to see my dad looking horrified while Edward stands beside him, a decidedly smug expression on his face.
"What? It's internet videos," I say defensively.
"I don't want to see what kind of videos these insane people put on the internet. And that's certainly not something Sue and Leah need to see."
I don't bother pointing out that they're not here. I pick up the remote and begin channel surfing, sipping my beer silently while Dad leads Edward to the kitchen to show him the steak they're cooking tonight. Edward follows with relaxed shoulders, and I imagine he's just thankful the gun case hasn't made an appearance.
-x-x-
Sue and Leah come over shortly after five o'clock. Introductions are made, and Sue hugs me heartily while exclaiming that I've barely changed at all. Leah stands around awkwardly at first; while I've known her all my life, the majority of the time we spent together was when Leah was three years old and too young to retain memories.
She really filled out as a teenager. No longer gangly, her chest is already bigger than mine and her hips a touch wider, giving her a curvaceous, womanly figure. Her hair is blond and wavy, falling to nearly the middle of her back, and her crystal blue eyes are like a clear, cloudless day over a shimmering sea.
These shimmering sea eyes are attached to Edward, watching his every mood as he helps set the table and makes small talk with Dad and Sue. When we're all seated, and her initial hesitation has vanished, she talks incessantly in a juvenile voice that betrays her youth.
"So you're a doctor?" she inquires, glancing longingly across the table at Edward.
"Yes," he answers politely, oblivious to the infatuation being thrown his way.
"So you've, like… done CPR and stuff?" She asks the question dreamily, as if imagining Edward doing CPR is straight out of her little teenaged fantasy, and Sue and Charlie exchange a look.
"A few times," he tells her. "Although Bella's probably done it more."
"You've never had to kiss an old guy, have you?"
"We don't do mouth-to-mouth anymore," I inform her, hoping to discourage her from the onslaught of lust she's currently tossing across the table. "We have masks at the hospital that do that for you."
Leah looks taken aback by this. "Masks? But what if someone falls out and dies at the mall? You won't have a mask there."
"You're supposed to just do chest compressions. Putting your mouth on a stranger is unsanitary."
Sue nods vigorously in agreement.
"What about me?" Leah exclaims, offended. "I'm not unsanitary. You'd just let me die instead of doing mouth-to-mouth?"
I very nearly launch into a speech about how CPR is normally more effective without rescue breathing anyway, but before I have a chance Edward smoothly says, "Of course not, Leah. We'd make an exception for you." He finishes this statement with one of the same crooked smiles that he used mercilessly while winning me over.
Leah positively beams at him.
Suddenly I have a feeling Edward knows exactly what he's doing. I inconspicuously shift and kick him in the shin, causing him to jerk and shoot me a warning look.
"What?" he mouths at me.
Sue speaks up before I can answer. "Leah, since you're so interested, maybe being a doctor is something you'd like to think about."
Leah looks unperturbed by this question, and thinks it over carefully for half a heartbeat. "Don't doctors have to go to school for like… ten years or something?" She directs the question at Edward.
"Something like that," he vaguely replies.
She immediately shakes her head, crinkling her nose in distaste. "Nah, it'd be easier to just marry one."
Sue and Charlie's appalled eyes nearly bug straight out of their heads. Edward chokes on his drink, and I pat him on the back, covering my laughter around a huge mouthful of mashed potatoes.
Leah goes on eating as if we'd never been talking at all.
-x-x-
Sue and Leah stay for a while after dinner is cleaned up. When Leah hears that Edward is accompanying Dad on a fishing trip, she invites herself along, much to Charlie's chagrin.
"I've asked you a dozen times to go fishing with me and you always refuse," he berates her.
"You haven't asked me lately!"
"I gave up! And you act like the world's coming to an end every time I bring fish home."
"You get scales all over the sink! It's gross!"
It gives me a small sense of nostalgia, seeing them bicker. While I never had to put up with fish scales – Mom always made Dad clean the fish outside, by the hose – we used to argue incessantly over the bait. I'd help him dig up worms for hours as a child, but I would never, under any circumstances, handle the crickets Dad was so fond of using. Every time you speared them they'd puke on your finger, and the feeling of their spiky little legs jabbing at your flesh was just short of horrid.
Edward puts up with Leah's adoration with a tireless patience. But once they leave, and we're making the short trek up the stairs, I can tell he's glad to be alone.
We share the bathroom, brushing our teeth side by side, an easy, comfortable silence between us. But he hesitates outside the bedroom door, as though unsure whether to proceed.
"Are you sure this is okay?" he asks again, lingering cautiously.
I grab him by the hand and all but snatch him into the room. "If you keep asking me that, I'm gonna kick you out to sleep in your car."
He nods sheepishly and carefully shuts the door behind him. Dad has already retired to his own bedroom, far down the hall, and Edward and I decided to do the same only a few minutes afterwards. It's been a long day for both of us. I take off my pants and bra and crawl into bed in nothing but my shirt and underwear. I scoot to the far end to make room for Edward, and he undresses and slides in behind me in nothing but his boxers. His skin is hot against the chilly sheets, and he wraps his arms around me from behind, tucking me into his warmth.
He kisses my shoulder lightly, then goes still. His cock, which is partially hard, is pressed into my bottom. I push my hips back against his and feel his body tense behind me.
When I do it again, his grip is almost painful.
"Stop that," he chastises.
"Stop what?" I do it again. Edward pushes away from me, putting a few inches of space between us in the bed. His brows – what little I can see in the darkness – are pulled together in a tight frown.
"You know what."
"Oh, come on." I roll over towards him, much to his dismay; he sighs and makes a very determined effort to keep me from touching him, especially as my hand begins traveling south.
"Bella," he hisses. "You've got to be kidding me."
"Why would I be kidding you?"
"We're not having sex with your father down the hall."
"He's asleep. He'll never know."
"I don't care."
"We'll be quiet."
"You're never quiet."
"Am too!"
"Stop touching me! I said no!"
"Quit acting like such a woman!"
"Then stop trying to force me! No means no!"
"God, you're so dramatic!"
I fall onto my back with a huff, making my frustration apparent. Edward mimics my position, us lying shoulder to shoulder, while he runs a hand down his face. It drops heavily to his side.
My countenance just oozes displeasure, and I expect any moment he'll come to his senses and give in. He is a man, after all.
But then he sighs and rolls over, facing away from me. "Goodnight," he grumbles.
I scowl and shove him in the back, nearly knocking him off the tiny bed.
"Coward."
"It's called self-preservation," he shoots over his shoulder.
"Don't try to fancy up the word, coward."
"Goodnight, Bella."
I sigh. So that's how he wants to be? Fine. I don't need him to get off. Hesitating only a heartbeat, I slip my hand into my panties and try to clear my mind, moving my fingers slowly but not inconspicuously. I want Edward to know, to see what he's missing.
It takes me a minute to get into the swing of things. I've never masturbated where someone could see me before and didn't realize how weird it would feel. But it's too late to back out now. I don't want to back out.
Should I make noises? Would that be too much?
I decide it'd probably be more natural and eventually release a small moan, just enough to get Edward's attention. He tenses beside me, but doesn't roll over.
"What are you doing, Bella?" he asks hesitantly.
"Hmm?" I continue moving my fingers and can finally feel a tiny bit of pressure building. "God, what I'd give to have you inside of me right now."
Edward cautiously looks over his shoulder and swears under his breath. "Goddamn, Bella. What are you trying to do to me?" He rolls over, eyes widened, but doesn't touch me. Instead, he crosses his arm behind his head and watches.
I allow him a few moments of uninterrupted show. As soon as his breathing begins to labor, I reach out my hand for his. Surprisingly, he doesn't object as I guide it towards me and place it beneath mine, right over my clit. This was almost too easy.
He sucks in his breath as I guide his fingers over my slick skin, parting my legs to allow greater access. His fingers began mimicking my movements and I release his hand to pull my panties down my legs, getting them out of the way. Edward props up on one elbow so he can reach me easily, and his fingers slide down, parting my skin, and eventually one slips inside of me.
He leans over and kisses my neck, then sucks and softly nips with his teeth. "You'll be the absolute death of me, Bella," he murmurs.
I moan in response, lifting my hips to meet his movements. "I need you so bad," I whimper.
I turn my face towards Edward's and he groans, pressing his mouth against mine and thrusting his tongue through parted lips. His tongue strokes mine languorously, deliciously, imitating the movements being performed to the lower half of my body. I tug on his shoulder, but he hardly needs an invitation before rolling on top of me and using his free hand to yank his boxers down. He doesn't pull them all the way off, just removes his right hand from my heat and replaces it with something long and thick.
He slips inside easily, stretching and filling me up, and we both groan together as we join. He pulls out until just the head remains before pushing back in again. I lock my legs around his waist, feeling every hot inch, and throw my head back to enjoy.
As soon as he increases the speed and force of his thrusts, the bed groans angrily, resisting the movement. The rhythmic creaks are loud enough to wake the dead.
Or my dad.
Edward freezes almost instantly, his body going rigid on top of mine. We both lay still, listening for movement down the hall, but there's nothing but silence.
"Damn it, Bella." Edward's whisper is frustrated.
"It's not my fault," I immediately argue.
"So says the seductress."
"Let's just get on the floor."
"Really?" He sounds doubtful, but watches with mild interest as I push him off me and crawl onto the carpet. I take off my shirt, freeing my breasts, and they seem to serve as the lure that has Edward following me off the bed.
I get on all fours and sigh as Edward pushes into me from behind. He's on one knee, the other leg propped up beside my hip, and his body slightly hovers mine. The position allows him to go so deep that I have to bite my hand to keep from crying out.
"Oh God, Bella," he whispers. His hands stroke my back tenderly at first, then my hips, until he's grabbing onto me with a grip so tight it almost hurts, using his hold as an anchor as he pulls out and thrusts back inside with increasing force.
The moan that follows is too much to muffle with my hand; Edward lets the first one slide, but after the second, he leans forward and clamps his hand over my mouth, still pumping into me with an even, unhurried rhythm.
"Shhh," he says quietly.
I clench my teeth together, dampening my cries. When I turn around to look at Edward, it's to see him biting his lip, his brows drawn down in concentration while the moonlight from the window bathes his body in a faint, pearly glow.
It's a beautiful sight.
His hand, now slack, still lingers at my mouth, as if ready and waiting for the next moan to slip. I kiss his fingers and say, "I love you so much."
His eyes focus on mine while his thumb rubs the skin by my lip. Then he pulls on my shoulders, urging my body upright, my back flush to his chest. My knees dig into the carpet and I have a fleeting regret of the carpet-burn that's likely to follow, but that thought's erased as soon as Edward twists my face around and kisses me with a ferocity that leaves me breathless.
"I love you," he says against my lips. "Only you. Always."
His fingers find my clit, his tongue reinvades my mouth, and I come almost instantly.
-x-x-
Dad wakes Edward up early for their fishing trip. The sun is just starting to rise, and I can barely make out Edward's tousled hair and bare shoulders as he struggles to pull on his pants in the dim light. There's a thump as he stubs his toe on the dresser, followed by a curse, and then he's kissing me on the forehead and whispering goodbye.
I spend over an hour in bed, not really sleeping, before kicking away the covers and stumbling downstairs for breakfast. There's frozen waffles and cereal, so I settle for the former, toasting them and covering them with syrup before settling down in front of the TV for some mindless entertainment. When I finish eating, I clean my dishes, drink some coffee, and head back upstairs for a shower.
There's a phone ringing as I enter the bedroom, and I recognize the ring as one of Edward's. His cell phone is resting on the nightstand, forgotten in the early hours of the morning. I walk over to it, telling myself I'll just see who it is. Mom flashes on the screen, and the ringing stops before I can make a decision regarding whether or not to answer.
There're two missed calls, both from her. Concern floods me, partly because she knows Edward is in Forks with me and partly because it's so early. I dig my own phone out of my purse, look up her number on Edward's phone, and call her back.
"Hello," she says, answering quickly.
"Esme? It's Bella. Is everything okay?"
"Bella! I was hoping it might be you. It just occurred to me that I don't have your number."
"Yeah, I saw you called Edward's phone. He's out fishing with my dad."
"Oh good! He always loved fishing when he was younger. So are they getting along alright?" There's no urgency to her voice, no warning that anything's wrong.
"Yeah, my dad really seems to like him."
"That's good, that's good. Well look, Bella, I was just calling because Carlisle was admitted to the hospital this morning." Before I can make any sort of exclamation, she eases my worry by saying, "I don't think it's anything serious, but he was real faint and lightheaded this morning while getting ready for work. I made him go to the ER and his blood pressure was low and he's anemic. He's being admitted for a blood transfusion and a work-up. He's okay right now, though."
I breathe a sigh of relief. "Okay, good. I'm glad he's okay. I'll tell Edward as soon as he gets back."
"Thank you. I don't want to worry him while you guys are away, but I don't want him to come back and find out I didn't tell him what was going on."
"I understand. I'll be sure to let him know."
"Thanks. And I'll call you if anything changes."
"Okay."
Edward and Dad are gone for another hour and a half. I wonder if Edward is enjoying himself, being crammed in a tiny boat for so long with just my father for company. Because I really doubt Leah woke up early enough to go.
Their return home is a shock, however. Leah enters the house first, her clothes wet, her blond hair plastered to pale, damp skin. Her makeup has smeared around her eyes and she looks mad enough to commit murder. Edward follows next, equally wet, equally disgruntled, and Dad looks much too exhausted to have spent a relaxing day on the lake.
"This is why I don't go fishing with you," Leah says hotly. She stomps past me, heading towards the stairs, presumably for the bathroom or a towel.
"Right. Because I told you to jump into the water."
"I didn't jump!"
"I'm telling your mother what you did," Dad says angrily, to no reply. Just the bathroom door slamming upstairs.
Edward slowly peels off his wet jacket, looking even paler than Leah. "What the hell happened?" I exclaim, looking from him to Dad. There's no fish, but it could be out in the truck.
"Leah fell overboard," Dad angrily explains. "I told her not to lean over the side, but does she ever listen to me? The water was freezing! Then she screamed like a banshee and pulled Edward halfway into the water. If she hadn't been wearing a life jacket, so help me, she would have drowned."
She just fell into the water? I smirk, thinking her premature brain most likely wanted a personal demonstration of Edward's CPR technique. And looking at the guy all wet and flustered, I can't say I blame her.
Then I see he's getting a little blue around the lips and figure it's time to get him into a hot shower. Stat. Before I'm doing CPR.
"Geez. Come on, Edward," I say, grabbing onto his hand. It's cold as ice. "You're freezing. You should probably take a shower and change."
"He can use my shower if Leah is in the bathroom," Dad offers, and I nod before leading my frozen man up the stairs.
Dad's bathroom is just a little larger than the one down the hall. I run the water for Edward while he peels off his wet clothes, and the bathroom begins to steam almost immediately. He's shivering, his pale skin erupting in gooseflesh as I usher him beneath the hot spray.
"God, this feels good," I hear him moan as I lean against the counter.
"Sounds like you had an exciting morning."
"If being simultaneously molested and dunked into a lake of ice is exciting, then yes, I guess I did."
"Sounds pretty exciting to me."
"I can't believe you let me go out alone with that girl. She was ten times worse than last night."
"Well, the fact that she woke up that early is pretty impressive. Apparently I didn't give her obsession with you enough credit."
"Yeah, thanks," he says dryly.
I shrug in acquiesce, then say, "I talked to your mom today."
"Oh yeah? About what?"
"She was trying to reach you. Your dad is anemic and had to be admitted to the hospital."
His head pokes out from around the shower curtain. A slight flush of color has returned to his cheeks. "Seriously? Is he alright?"
"She said he was fine. Going to have a blood transfusion and a work-up. She just wanted to let you know."
He seems to consider this, then nods slowly and disappears behind the curtain again. "He probably has a peptic ulcer," he says grimly. "He had one three years ago."
"Maybe," I concede. It wouldn't be that surprising, given how tightly wound the man is. Plus he's a drinker. "We can leave early if you want," I offer.
"I hate to do that. We just got here…"
"Dad'll understand. And we can always come back later."
"Yeah, I guess that's true."
I stay in the bathroom a little longer. Edward claims he smells like a lagoon, so I fetch him a fresh wash towel to clean up with. Then I walk down the hall to my bedroom for a dry set of clothes.
There's some unknown compulsion that causes me to check my phone while I'm there. I have a text message from Alice – a picture of the wall smudge where I smashed my face, except now there's dark lettering that reads BELLA SWAN WAS HERE written above it in permanent marker in Emmett's loopy handwriting.
I'm going to kill them both.
Completely forgetting that Edward is still in my dad's bathroom, naked and abandoned, I dial Alice's number with every intention of bitching her out. Except I never get the chance.
"No, Bella, the picture isn't important right now," she immediately interrupts me, her tone alarmingly serious. "You will never guess what just happened."
"What, Alice? Just tell me."
"I found out who stole the drugs."
A/N: I know, right? FINALLY.
Thanks so much to the usual passionmama and ms-ambrosia for sticking with this story, and to everyone who's left comments in reviews or on twitter! I love hearing what you think, and you all make this story a pleasure to write. Also special thanks to Twi Girls Next Door for rec'ing Doctor's Orders for their Must Read Monday! You can check them out at www(dot)twigirlsnextdoor(dot)com
Sorry again about the wait on this one. Hopefully the next chapter will be out quicker. The next chapter might also be the last one before the epi, unless it runs too long. I've got it all planned out, but if it's massive, I'll split it in two.
I'm mybluesky1 on twitter if you want to follow. See ya soon!