A/N: It was recommended that I add an insert from the Sequel to the end of this fic. Not sure if it's altogether necessary, but there you have it.
Epilogue
Extract from Because of You
Chapter 11
Bella's POV
The following day was Alice's birthday. I was awoken to Edward's voice invading my dreams, making me bolt upright in bed by the vividness of it, only to quickly realise it was his voice—over the telephone answering machine.
Something Jazz later validated when he played it back over breakfast.
"Happy birthday, you little rat. Have a great day. I'll call you later." His voice repeated, in that familiar deep, husky tone.
Of course, I instinctively froze; almost choking on the coffee Alice had just made me, and was then forced to sit through another round of awkward silence as Jazz and Alice shared several not-so-discreet glances at my expense.
With the excuse to walk Buddy, I left soon after to let them further discuss me in private, and wishing I could just pack myself, and my dog, up and go home.
No such luck. That night Alice and Jazz dragged me to the Emblem nightclub in Tacoma. Jazz had booked a VIP table for Alice's birthday on the mezzanine above the dance floor. I was happy to watch as Jazz and Alice quickly joined in, practically molesting each other as they danced amidst the revellers. It was loud, and the lights were dizzying; though, the video displays were somewhat distracting, but overall, it wasn't my thing.
That wasn't to say I didn't drink. Jazz made more trips to the bar than I could recall, and after a while I lost track of how many I'd consumed.
After that things got pretty hazy, and the next morning I awoke with my face plastered to the futon mattress, with a stinging sensation at the back of my neck, the mother of all headaches—something I was getting pretty familiar with—and that ungodly taste in my mouth.
I dragged myself to the kitchen sometime around ten in the morning to a similarly pasty looking—but no less chirpy—Alice.
"Bells, you look about as good as I feel," she chuckled, her tone blessedly lowered.
"Is there coffee?" was all I managed before sitting down at the breakfast table and laying my head in my folded arms with a muffled moan.
A mug was suddenly placed in front of me, before Jazz sat down opposite me, grinning to himself. "Great night, girls," he commented.
"Yeah..." I mumbled, without managing a shred of humour, before pulling the coffee closer to me and inhaling it in. I sipped the steaming liquid carefully, quickly realising it was that disgusting cannabis tea, and almost gagging. "Oh, God, Jazz. Are you trying to make me sick?" I croaked out, barely managing to raise my voice.
"In ten minutes, Bella, you'll feel ninety-five percent better," he assured me, continuing to grin to himself as he read the morning paper, while simultaneously feeling up Alice.
I really had to get the hell out of there.
He was right, of course. Whatever the hell was in that stuff, my headache and nausea had already begun to fade before I'd even finished.
After, I allowed Alice to make me breakfast, instantly cheered up by my improved health.
"Have I been bitten by something?" I asked, rubbing again at the nape of my neck.
"No, silly," Alice laughed. "That's your tattoo—we all got one." And with that, she dragged her t-shirt down exposing the top of her left breast where "Lovers Forever" was obviously newly tattooed into her skin, still looking red-rimmed and tender.
And Jazz, parting his robe, showed off his version of it, while a feeling similar to dread enveloped me.
"Please tell me I don't have that tattooed at the back of my neck too?"
Alice giggled, rubbing her entire breast as she did. "Of course you don't. What did you choose again?"
I only stared at her, confounded.
"An angel wing," Jazz answered on my behalf.
My vacant expression switched to him, while this time feeling my heart stall. I knew the significance of an angel wing, and naturally, if I was drunk, I would have disclosed it to Jazz and Alice. Though, I had a sinking feeling they already knew.
"Here, I think I took a photo of it last night," Alice piped up, before getting out of her seat to retrieve her phone.
A moment later the image of it was thrust an inch from my face, while I contemplated the urge to groan out loud. A blue angel wing—quite evidently tattooed into the back of my neck—stared back at me.
I left not long after, despite my blood alcohol level more than likely being over the limit, making a point to never go back to Alice's house again. I had initially decided to stay until the afternoon, but I got Angela to call in a fake disaster at the restaurant. I could handle Alice at my house, I even enjoyed her company, but I definitely did not feel comfortable—or sane—being at hers. Over all, it had given me a nightmarish, trippy ambience—of mind altering tea, images of Edward, his voice projecting into my dreams, and the privy of Alice and Jazz's love under the influence of "THC".
