CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

MIKE'S POINT OF VIEW

I guess there's not going to be many people out there want to hear my side of things. That scruffy haired cop certainly didn't seem too keen on hearing anything I had to say, but that's because there was no way I was going to drop Terry in it. The guy has been like a mentor to me since I was fifteen. And if I'm really honest; he sort of scares me a bit. He's not a tall man, about my height and quite slim built. He has these real pale eyes; sort of a creamy blue colour and they kind of freak me out too.

First time I met Terry was when we went to a diner in town; me, Jake, Sam and Bella... Bella was with Jake then and they were well into each other. I'd always liked Bella; she was friendly without being overtly flirty like some of the other girls at school. I knew I was a looker; without wanting to sound too vain I could pretty much have any girl I wanted, but with Bella it was different. She sort of let off this aura that you should have a bit of respect when you were around her. And I did, for a long time I did.

That day we were all sat in the diner, sipping milkshakes and chatting. She was telling some story about a class she had been in, doing a pretty accurate impression of Miss Sanders, the teacher and I guess I might have been ogling her a bit while she told it. There was something undeniably hot about a chick who could make me laugh. And then I looked up and saw this guy watching me. It made me uncomfortable at first, but when I went to get some fries, he was stood behind me in the queue.

"You're Michael Newton's boy?" he said, suddenly.

"Yeah," I said, suspiciously.

"Well let me shake you by the hand young man. I knew your dad. We were in the same squadron; served in the Middle East together. He was one helluva guy."

And with that he entered my life. We would meet up now and again, share stories about my dad, who had been killed in action when I was ten. I idolised my dad and meeting someone who had been a close friend of his was a way of getting close to Dad again. Terry asked me not to say anything to my mom, because he said it might upset her. I was gullible enough to believe him, so I never said anything.

One day when I met him for a coffee, he suddenly brought Bella into the conversation.

"So tell me, Michael, when are you going to ask that girl out?" he said.

"Which girl?"

"Isabella Swan," he replied.

"She's kinda dating my best buddy and I already have a girlfriend," I replied, which was true. Bella was with Jake and I had started seeing Lauren, one of her close friends. Terry rolled his eyes.

"The blonde?" he said, derisively. "I tell you, son, whoever said blondes are more fun never dated a brunette. Why settle for second best, Michael?"

Most of our conversations went that way, but Bella just seemed unattainable. I once tried to ask her out, after her and Jake finished. It was coming up to prom and I really wanted her to go with me. But she turned me down, saying she wouldn't be going anyway. God that made me so mad. I told Terry all about it and he validated my anger, asking me who the hell she thought she was to reject me; the most popular guy in school? Made me feel better at any rate, especially when I turned up with Lauren and we were voted Prom King and Queen.

As time passed, Bella got involved with Sam, who was a total jerk. Even I could see that she was a little intimidated by him and she changed; became quieter, less confident in herself. And the appeal she had had faded with her personality. We dropped out of one another's social circles for awhile and then when I went to college we hooked up again, as friends. I even got her a job at the bistro where I worked.

When Terry found out we were working together, things got really strange. He reminded me of the prom all the time; the way she had out and out rejected me. Reminded me of how angry she had made me. And I still couldn't get her to see me as anything more than a damned friend. I didn't want to be her friend.

My worst nightmare was when Edward Cullen got the job as chef after Monsieur Marcus retired. I had hoped we would get another old guy but in he walked, with his perfect looks and edgy attitude that seemed to make Bella swoon. Watching her kiss him that night we played Truth or Dare made me bristle with anger, even though I suggested it. In a masochistic way, I wanted to see him reject her there and then; hurt her as she had hurt me, but then chef had to play nice for a change. Fucking bastard!

The envelopes were Terry's idea. He basically staged everything for me; told me he worked as a private investigator and could help me get payback; which might eventually lead to me getting Bella period. And God did I want her. I was so drawn in that even the stabbings didn't faze me. Even when I shot the girl I loved... OK, maybe that did faze me a little. I rang Terry in a total panic and he reassured me that now I had shown her just how far I was willing to take this she would have no option but to comply with my wishes. I wanted so badly to believe him.

When the police turned up at my door to arrest me though, I fell to pieces. I finally realised what I had done; the stabbings, the shooting and I heard myself confessing. But I didn't tell them about Terry... I didn't.

XXX

"You should know that we have arrested Terry Snow and have him in custody," said the messy blonde haired cop. I rested my head in my hands and then looked across at him.

"I don't know anyone called Terry Snow," I replied.

"Sure you don't," he said, sarcastically. "Well, Mr Newton, one thing we are very clear on is he knows you. Did you know that he has killed six other girls in the last twenty years?"

I felt all of the colour drain from my face when he said this.

"Yes, thought that might get your attention. Snow likes brunettes; has a bit of a fetish you could say and if they don't play the game, he finds ways of getting rid of them. Some he intimidates, others he kills. Did you know he once had a thing for Renee Swan?"

Bella's mom? Shit, I didn't know that. The cop leaned across the table, a small smile on his face.

"Only reason he never wanted to touch your mom was probably because she's blonde and blondes don't do it for him."

"Leave my mom out of this," I said and he leaned back in his chair, his smile widening.

"Yeah, your mum is pretty cut up about all of this. She likes Bella; even had her work in her shop one summer. Isn't that right?"

That was the summer of the infamous prom that she hadn't accompanied me to.

"What of it?"

"What of it?" The cop's eyes darkened for a moment. "Your mom is pretty disgusted that her son shot at a girl who was supposed to be his friend. Now tell me, Mr Newton, whose idea was it to shoot Miss Swan? Was it yours or his?"

"No comment."

"See, we know that you did it together. We know that he distracted the surveillance team and left you to pull the trigger. You ever shot anything before that, Mr Newton? Seems unlikely judging by just how piss poor your aim was. But I guess that was lucky for Miss Swan and lucky for you too, because you'd have been up for murder instead of attempted murder."

"Murder? I didn't want to kill her!" I exclaimed. "Terry said it would be a wakeup call..." I broke off abruptly, realising what I had said.

"That's what I figured. He was the brains behind all of this, wasn't he? And he would let you take all the heat for it while he walked away scot free. He's done that before. Six times. Six other girls who have been killed, apparently by different men, all brunettes and all who have somewhere along the lines come into contact with Terry Snow. But Miss Swan was different, because this time it wasn't her that came across him, it was you. A stupid kid who took his schoolboy crush a step too far..."

"It was not a schoolboy crush! I love Bella!" I yelled.

"Enough to hurt her if she doesn't want to be with you?" he challenged.

I couldn't answer him, because he was right. I buried my head in my hands, as the realisation of just how deep I was in this hit me.

"If I tell you what I know about Terry will it help my case?" I asked, suddenly. The cop looked up at me, meeting my gaze, steadily.

"It might," he said, with a shrug.

"I'd like some time with my lawyer," I said, though the guy had sat in silence through the whole of this interview, making me wonder why the fuck I was paying him. The cop nodded.

"Five minutes, Mr Newton," he said. When he left the room, I looked across at the older man sat beside me.

"What will I have to say to take the heat off of me? How can I get them to see that that piece of shit Snow manipulated this whole situation?"

"We have a few options, Mr Newton," he replied and as he started to speak, I figured maybe he wasn't quite so useless after all.

XXX

There she was, creamy skin slightly flushed, her big chocolate eyes looking heavy, shadowed with black. Her tiny frame was encased in a navy blue suit, with a pink blouse, which emphasised her femininity. Her hair was scraped back into a ponytail and her gaze remained lowered, as if she couldn't bring herself to look around the courthouse. As she delivered her damning testimony, I listened as if from a great distance. It was like she was talking about someone else. Up in the gallery I could see the crowd of them watching, Laurent and Jacob sat together, Mr and Mrs Swan, with another couple I didn't recognise. Rosalie and her lug of a boyfriend. And him; Edward Cullen, leaning forwards on his chair, his eyes fixed on her.

Her voice was so quiet I could barely hear her. Even the judge had asked her to speak up a bit. When she did, I found myself wishing I couldn't hear her, as she listed all the things I had done; explained what I have put her through.

And suddenly I hated myself.

I loathed what I had become.

"Michael Newton, the jury have found you guilty of the stabbing of Jessica Stanley and Marie West. You are also guilty of the attempted murder of Isabella Swan. The court has been asked to take note of the grooming that went on prior to these incidents from the age of fifteen by a serial killer who filled your head with his own sick schemes and has dutifully taken this into consideration in terms of your sentencing. As a result I hereby sentence you to twenty five years imprisonment, with a view that you will serve at least fifteen before you come up for parole. Consider yourself very fortunate, young man," said the judge, sternly. The room appeared to turn black ad I swayed against the police officer who stood beside me. As I was led away, I paused, glancing up at the gallery to torture myself with my last glimpse of her; my Bella held in the arms of another man. I knew I would never see her again.