A/N: I was going to update last night but me and my lawnmower had a fight. I lost. I'm pretty tragic, these days.
Anywho, I hope you enjoy, and thank you, Kimmie45, as always.
Vertigo
Chapter 25
Edward
"Okay, I sent Ness home early. Get dressed—we're going out," Jake announces after throwing open my bedroom door and flicking on the lights.
I only groan and bury my head beneath my pillow.
"Get out of bed before I drag your pathetic arse out," he threatens me, and he's not joking.
"I'm not in the fucking mood," I mutter, my voice muffled against the mattress.
"Tough shit," he replies, walking over to me and pulling the pillow off me. "Christ, when was the last time you shaved?"
"It's school holidays," I remind him.
"So? That's no excuse to get around looking like you're a bloody dero."
"Fuck sake, Jake! I'm tired, all right!"
"Too bad!" he says, unmoved. "It's eight a-bloody-clock for Christ sake. I haven't been to bed this early since I was born!" Before I can argue back, he grabs me by the collar of my t-shirt jerking me upright.
"I'm not fucking kidding—piss off!" I demand, immediately shoving him off me.
"Stop being such a bitch. You've got five minutes." He snatches up my keys from my chest of drawers next to the door and holds them out to me. "I'll be waiting in the car."
"Take your own bloody car!" I yell after him, before swinging my feet to the edge of the bed and running my hands down my face. I contemplate ignoring him and crawling back under my doona. Instead, I pull myself to my feet and stagger into my bathroom.
After spraying on deodorant and shoving on a clean set of clothes, I grab my wallet and begrudgingly make my way to the garage. I'm really not in the bloody mood, but Jake's been honking the horn for the last couple of minutes. Plus, I know the bastard will drag me out if I don't come willingly.
"If you run my battery flat you'll be buying me another one," I warn him, throwing myself into the passenger seat beside him and slamming the door.
"Where do you want to go?"
"I don't give a shit—just no strip joint!"
He smirks to himself, reversing out of the garage and down the driveway.
He drives to the Broadway Bar in Haymarket. I guess because on a Friday night it's not likely to be as busy as most pubs are in the city.
I follow him inside, sitting on the stool beside him at the bar while he orders two schooners.
"You had a fight with Bella," he states the obvious after handing the bartender a twenty dollar note.
"She broke up with me," I say numbly, grabbing a handful of peanuts from the small bowl in front of us and shoving them in my mouth.
"No way!" He's sceptical. "Sure she didn't just say that out of anger?"
"She told me she never wants to see me again."
He eyes me closely for a moment, gauging me. "What happened?"
"She found out."
"About what? The car?"
"And the shrink."
"Christ, how'd that happen?"
I shrug. "I thought she was talking about the shrink, but she was talking about my car, and they both came out."
He sighs loudly. "See, what did I tell you?" he reminds me, picking up the beer the bartender places before him and taking a gulp.
"Don't give me any shit over it, Jake. I'm really not in the fucking mood," I mumble.
"She probably just needs some time to cool off," he adds.
I shrug again, but don't say anything.
He whacks my shoulder with the back of his hand. "You told her you've been seeing the same shrink since you were a kid though, right?"
I pause to briefly contemplate it; recalling how she'd stared at me with betrayal burning in her eyes. "I think so, I dunno. She was yelling. I don't know..."
"Well bloody tell her!" He sounds frustrated.
"What's the point? She'll just think it's some kind of excuse."
He sighs again. "So when'd this happen—last Friday?"
"Yeah. I pick up my beer and down half of it on one go.
"Have you spoken to her since?"
"I've rang her a whole heap of times. I've sent her messages... She's ignored them."
"So...what? You using this as an excuse to get out?
I glance at him for a moment wondering whether he's serious before scoffing behind my beer. "Yeah, sure."
"Well, come on, mate, I've used a lot less as an out in the past. You think she's not wondering the same thing?"
I slam the empty glass back down and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. "I have no idea what she's thinking."
"I can tell you one thing. If she over analyses shit like you say she does, that's exactly what she'd be thinking."
"She's ignored every attempt I've made to get in touch with her, so what do you expect me to do? Go to her house so she can throw me out again?" I demand, impatiently.
His forehead knots and he shakes his head slightly to himself before swallowing another mouthful of his beer. "What's more important, her or your pride?"
"I'm giving her a bit more time... I don't know what else to do," I admit, rubbing the back on my neck in frustration.
"So, if she continues ignoring you—that's it?"
"Look, mate, I don't fucking know!" I burst, running my hand forward through my hair before thudding it on the counter of the bar in frustration.
"How many bloody years have you been in therapy? Twenty? And you still run from confrontation!" He turns away from me and orders a second round.
"I don't want another one. I haven't eaten," I explain in a mutter.
"Want a steak sandwich?" he puts to me.
"No."
"And two steak sandwiches, mate," he orders regardless.
Releasing my breath shortly, I rub my forehead stiffly with my fingertips. It's easier to humour Jake than argue with him, but I don't have the energy for him tonight.
He swings in his stool to face me again and grips my shoulder. "Here's what you're going to do. Stop moping around like a miserable bloody bastard and go over and see her. If she puts up a fight, make her listen! Let her know you're willing to fight for her—Christ!"
"I can't," I reply. "With Bella it's not that easy."
"Bullshit!" he says, unconvinced. "You're here talking to me, aren't you? If I can get you to spill your guts, then you can get her too, 'cause no one's as uptight as you are."
"I'm not Bella."
"No, you're bloody worse," he mutters sarcastically. "Here's the deal. Either you go and talk to her, or I will."
"You do that and I'll kill you," I reply, but I'm not too concerned by it. More times than not Jake's all bluff.
He snorts. "Sure you will. You know my old lady attempted to lecture me about Ness?" He changes course.
I glance up at him, not too surprised. They've been a lot more accepting of her than I expected. "Yeah?"
"Yeah, she said she was 'disappointed' in me," he said bitterly, scowling to himself. "Disappointed—because, yeah, only my fucking snob-arse oldies could be disappointed in a girl like Ness."
"What'd you say?" I ask, only moderately curious.
He shrugs. "I'm their only heir. I've known for years they'd never cut me out, so I just told her that when it comes to my private life it's none of her bloody business. Then I warned her if she ever treats Ness like shit, she'll never see her grandkids."
"Grandkids?" I repeat in disbelief. "You've been going out with her for—what?"
"Seven months," he answers with a casual shrug, "but it doesn't matter to me. When you find the right woman, you suddenly find yourself wanting everything with her; getting married, kids—everything."
"You serious?" I ask, dubious, because it is Jake we're talking about, after all. The same person who swore holy bloody Mary he wasn't going down the aisle until he was at least forty.
"Sure," he says, simply.
"Jesus," I mumble to myself, fighting to suppress the smirk despite myself. He's sure as hell done a one-eighty.
"You don't see yourself marrying Bella...having kids?" He raises his brows.
I laugh dryly. "What kid in their right mind would want us for parents?"
He rolls his eyes. "You missed the point, mate. Do you want that with her despite all the shit you've got hanging over you at the moment?"
"I don't want kids..." I say, quietly.
"Bullshit," he says, dismissing me outright.
"I'm not going to be responsible for screwing up anyone's life..."
He groans loudly and over exaggerates it. "Bella lost her family, mate, or did you forget that?"
"As if I could forget that!" I reply, annoyed.
"Well, you reckon she hasn't got a giant bloody hole in her heart that she doesn't want to fill one day?"
I open my mouth to reply when I immediately pause. Of course she fucking would.
"Who says you'd screw up your kid, anyway? Stop being so melo-bloody-dramatic!" he adds before I can reply.
I huff, becoming impatient with him. "Maybe I just don't want to talk about fucking marriage and kids with a girl who made it clear it's over between us! Jesus fucking Christ, Jake, why don't you just twist the bloody knife in my back?"
"Do you want her back?" he asks me unfazed, and he's really beginning to irritate me.
"Of course I do!"
"Well man-fucking-up and go and get her back!"
"I'm...I'm going to give her a bit more time," I murmur, stalling, because knowing Jake, he'll insist on driving me to her house right now.
"More time for what? To screw it further up?" He scoffs. "It's your funeral, mate."
I'm beginning to think it is.
. . .
Jake got me drunk. I have no idea how many beers I drank. I eventually lost count; though, with him driving I hadn't really started. I do recall at some point him dragging me to the back alley so I could puke my guts up, and I'm pretty sure I called Bella again and left a drunken message on her phone.
Or maybe it was all a nightmare. I'm not bloody sure. All I know for certain is being woken up the next morning by someone banging on the front door.
"Jake!" I attempt to call out, but my voice clogs in the back of my throat. "Fuck sake..." I utter, dragging myself to the side of the bed to bury my head in my hands. Christ, I feel awful.
Pulling myself to my feet, I make my way to the intercom with my head spinning. "Jake, you home?" I croak into it.
He's not.
The banging continues.
"All right—Jesus, hang on!" I holler, swallowing past the disgusting fucking taste in my mouth, before staggering out of my room and down the hall.
I reef the door open to Bella's brother Jasper standing behind it.
"What are you doing here?" I demand, and I can't be arsed with pretences. He's a dickhead, period.
"I came to talk," he answers, eyeing me closely and arching that brow at me again.
"If you've come to give me shit over Bella, save your breath. I'm not in the fucking mood," I reply, before moving to close the door on him when he reaches out and grabs it.
"I want to talk about Bella, but I'm not going to give you shit over her. Promise."
I only glare at him, attempting to gauge his motives.
"You gonna let me in?"
"How the hell do you know where I live?"
"Wasn't hard to find you. Your address is in the phone book."
I scoff, swinging the door back impatiently to let him inside. "Follow me," I mutter.
I lead him into the family room off the kitchen, my hand cradling my stricken head. He trails behind me obviously checking the place out.
"Nice view," he acknowledges, walking closer to the back room to peer out over the pool.
"Thanks," I mumble. "Wanna drink, or something?" I offer.
He turns back me. "If you've got one."
"What do you want?"
He shrugs. "Coke?"
"Hang on."
The first thing I do is fill a glass with water and toss in a couple of Berroccas, before yanking open the fridge door and grabbing a can of coke. I'm surprised there's any left. I haven't done any grocery shopping for a while.
Jake must have...
"You look pretty seedy, mate. Rough night?" he observes with a grin, after I hand him his drink.
I utter out half a laugh, sarcastically. "Yeah."
I suddenly realise I'm still wearing the clothes I had on last night, and Christ... I drop my nose to discreetly take a whiff of myself and almost gag.
I smell like beer, cigarettes and puke.
"Hang on a sec," I tell him, before disappearing back down the hall to my room.
I take a quick shower, not giving a toss that Bella's idiot of a brother is waiting for me, and brush my teeth. Then half drying myself, I throw on a set of clean clothes and head back into the kitchen.
"Sorry...I smelled like shit," I offer up a half-arsed excuse for leaving him hanging.
"No worries," he says simply.
Grabbing my Berocca from the counter I head into the family room and slump on the lounge. He follows me in and sits down on the opposite end.
"I'm just gonna come out and say it—I'm worried about Bella. I mean, I'm really worried about her." He's serious, and when I turn to gaze at him it's reflecting in his eyes. Despite the fact that he looks like he's been smoking weed since dawn.
"She's not doing good...?" I ask, though it's more of a statement, but then what did I expect?
He scoffs. "To put it mildly—look, I didn't like you. It's no secret. I thought you were a rich snob arsehole who was going to treat Bella like garbage, but...I get it. You're not."
I jerk a shoulder, annoyed by him, and I really don't want to bloody hear it. "When did you speak to her?"
"Yesterday. She called me just after lunch. She was practically hysterical, and you know what she's like—she doesn't show you that side of her." His voice softens, and it's obvious he's upset by her.
"I know..." I say, releasing my breath heavily and nodding.
"She told me everything, and mate, I don't blame you," he begins when I interrupt him.
"It's good to know she can talk to someone..." I mutter with a bitter edge to my voice.
He glances up at me and openly rolls his eyes. "You know why she can tell me stuff she hasn't told you? Because she doesn't give a shit about me like she does you. It's hardest to show the person closest to you who you really are—don't you know that?"
"Yeah..." I eventually concede, feeling immediately ashamed of myself. Of course I know that.
"She thinks you'll think less of her if you know," he expands on it, but I get it.
I shake my head, because it's flat out ridiculous. "Is...is she still angry at me?"
He half laughs, dryly. "Mate, she's not angry—she's..." He stops to drag his fingers through his hair in an obvious fit of frustration. "It's like what happened with you two set off a chain of events that sucked her into this vortex of all the shit she's been trying to run from the last ten years. She has a million things racing through her mind and she doesn't know which end is up or which is down anymore. She kept saying that you made her feel too much, and she can't feel that yet. She's too scared to—she thinks it's going to kill her, as well."
I drop my head into my palm. It's still aching, but more so now that I'm bloody filling with anxiety over her. "You mean, feel...what happened when she lost her family?" I ask, my eyes on the floor.
"Yeah. She never dealt with it, and the longer she refuses to the bigger it becomes. No wonder her shrink didn't want her to see you—"
I immediately straighten up, my eyes snapping to his. "What? He said that? He didn't want me seeing Bella?"
"Not you, personally," he clarifies and it doesn't make me feel much better. "He knew what would happen when Bella opened her heart to someone, I guess. He wanted her to deal with what happened with her family first before she got close to anyone."
I release my breath heavily and shake my head, but I'm suddenly restless. My legs are itching to jump in my car and go to her, even if she doesn't want to see me. "If I go and see her will I make her worse?" I ask him, and I'm genuinely bloody sincere this time.
"Just explain it to her—you didn't see her shrink to go behind her back, did you?"
"Of course I fucking didn't!" I snap. "I've been seeing him since I was eleven—for fuck's sake! She never mentioned his name once."
"Well, explain it to her," he replies, "because she really needs to be seeing him, right now." He places deliberate emphasis on the last two words, and I pause feeling my heart stall.
"Wait...she's stopped seeing him?"
"She thinks he violated her trust, and now she can't get in to see another shrink for months. I just...I don't think she's going to make it!" His voice almost breaks and I realise how serious it is.
I lunge to my feet. "Okay, screw this, I'm going now!"
"She's not home." He pulls himself off the sofa beside me. "She's fine," he reassures me. "Alice took her to her house for the weekend."
"When's she coming back?" I ask. I can breathe a little easier knowing she's not alone, but not by much.
"Monday morning. Her boss gave her Monday off, but that's the day me and Alice are going to Queensland. Our flight leaves at twelve."
"Shit," I mutter, scratching the back of my head, distracted. "I've got work again Monday."
"Can you take a sickie?" he suggests.
"Yeah...I think I will," I murmur. There'll be hell to pay Tuesday, especially with the Year 12 boys' camp, but fuck it. I rarely take time off; they can sack me if they want. It's not as if I'm working for the bloody money.
He releases his breath in obvious relief. "Good... Fuck...I don't think I could leave her like she is. I'd be peaking the whole time over her."
"I just...I thought I'd give her some time to cool off, but she's been ignoring my calls," I relay to him, though it's more or less to myself.
"Once you get her to see everything, she'll be okay," he replies. He's not giving me much confidence, though; he doesn't sound exactly convincing.
"Did...she tell you what she almost did...?"
He's nodding his head before I can finish, his eyes dropping to the floor. "Yeah."
"You really think she could..." Christ, I can barely get the words out, but he's shaking his head this time.
"She says she'd never do it again, but I don't know...she's..." he abandons it, and I get it. There's never been adequate words to describe what happened to her.
"Her shrink thinks..." I shrug a shoulder and let it go as well, glancing up to meet his gaze again. "Hey, thanks for coming over."
He flashes me a quick grin. "No worries."
"You're not the dickhead I thought you were."
A/N: Jasper's really not the arsehole he was coming across as. He has an inherent need for family connection and he really cares about Bella. He's just been projecting his insecurities onto Edward over what he went through after Bella's family were killed. :)
You can let me know how you liked/disliked, or not. All good, and thanks for reading.