A/N: Thanks so much for all your wonderful thoughts.
Most characters belong to S. Meyer. The rest belong to me. All mistakes are mine.
Chapter 19 – The Chase
Bella
I'm flying; soaring like a bird, free and unencumbered wings gliding and cutting through the night air with my talisman returned to its righteous place of honor, to where it carries out its enchanted mission like an amulet meant to ward off all those who still attempt to do me wrong.
For about two seconds, the cleansing wind caressing my face is all that matters; it's all I feel…it and my talisman are all I know in my heart to be real. Everything else – all objects, papers, matters, sensations…lies and betrayals twisted into a narrative to fit the desired outcome – I leave behind on that ledge.
Soaring…it's the only irrefutable truth left in my world.
Until those two, mid-air seconds transpire, and with arms and legs extended with the grace of an eagle, it hits me that I'm descending…but I'm not quite close enough to the target building's ledge.
The wine. The fucking wine.
My arms and legs flail with a maladroit sort of desperation that's foreign to me, and I hear his voice cry out with a similar though feigned sense of wild despair.
"BELLA!"
I hit the building's concrete outer wall with a thud, managing to form claws around the ledge. My right cheek, my breasts, and my knee bones bear the brunt of the collision, and the shock of it rattles my brain. The pain radiates from my teeth down to my bare toes, and all of it accompanied by an irrepressible whimper.
"Mph."
"Bella – Jesus, God! Hold on! I'm coming!"
Drawing on every ounce of upper body strength I possess, I attempt to pull myself up and over the ledge, but the rainfall makes both my hands and the ledge slick. One by one, my fingers forfeit their tenuous grip, and I fall backward so fast my relatively short life isn't even allowed the opportunity to flash before my eyes. What I do see is someone making the same jump I just made, clearing the ledge by the skin of his teeth.
"BELLA, NO!"
At first, there's nothing but numbness – no sensation, no sound, and only a tunneled vision in the darkness of his face peering down at me in unmitigated horror.
Oh, shit; will you look at that? The thief died before we could lock her up.
For a handful of seconds, it's the only logical conclusion. Not even I can fall backward from such a height, onto the concrete sidewalk, and survive. Some wraith-like, incorporeal part of me must be in suspended animation, floating between worlds – at the very least granted her final flight.
Then, spasms of torment shoot through my chest. When I draw in a sharp breath, flames of fire lick up and down my lungs.
"Bella!"
He appears as bewildered as I feel. Dazed, I lift myself on my elbows and shake my head, now observing why I'm alive. Scaffolding. Scaffolding and a wide, hard rubber construction material stored on the scaffolding. Still, even landing on fucking water hurts from steep enough heights – I should know.
Nonetheless, bruised and battered, I'm alive, and I'm intact; at least, on the outside.
"Bella!" he – Anthony or Edward or whatever the fuck his name is – shouts down. "Bella, hold on; I'm coming for you!"
His tone begs for my acquiescence, for my trusting belief in him, in the notion that he gives a flying fuck other than for the fact that I'm part of his investigation.
Slowly, despite the pain, my mouth forms a grin because I refuse to gift him with any more of my hurt in any way, shape, or form. Oh yeah, I'll hold on, but for me, not for him.
I am all I have left.
Still lightheaded from the fall rather than from any alcohol my system has now burned off through the osmosis of fear and adrenaline, when I stand, I wobble unsteadily for a handful of seconds. Simultaneously, I calculate and prep for the jump to the adjacent scaffolding…and then to the next one, and then next one, and the next one…
"Bella, no! Wait there! Wait there!"
I suppose he does know me somewhat by now, though I can't help chuckling at his continued ruse, at his contrived games and machinations. He's determined, I'll give him that. Pain, perfidy, deception, and double-dealings; it's all I have left, but I'll put them to good use. They'll be my fossil fuels, my energy. I'll wring and knead from them and discard the useless pulp. The pain and sweat on my palms, the bruises I've acquired, the physical and…non-physical ache in my chest, the feel of his desperation as I take the jump, all become a reason for me to succeed.
"Goddamn it, no!"
I hit this landing with all the grace and success to which I'm accustomed, and which further reinforces me, fortifies me physically and mentally because this lying, fraudulent government agent will never outwit me again.
When I peer up, he's staring at me, wide-eyed and mouth agape, just as he did in Hawaii, so long ago.
It's difficult to resist the child-like urge to flip him the bird. Instead, I offer him a wink and blow him a kiss because he will never know how utterly broken I feel, how much I hurt both inside and out.
This is when, out of the corner of my eye, I see the blond female, his partner, peek down at me from the rooftop where we began this particular part of the game. In the next moment, she disappears from view…
"Rosalie, don't!"
…and I know the chase is on again.
Sprinting to the end of the scaffold, I leap to the next one, then run and jump to the next again, and then again. Adrenaline courses through my muscles, dissolves the soreness, converts each ensuing vault into a walk in the clouds, a beautiful dance-of-one, a smug prance with a light spring in my steps. I'm in my glory, in my own, personal heaven, in a segment of the game where I've yet to meet my equal.
That is until I hear the hard footfalls behind me – fast and closing in. I don't bother to waste precious time turning; I already know who it is; it's the only one who ever came close to catching me. Neither had I honestly believed he'd just allow me to go, but now I know why he won't. Now, I understand why he's the most well-toned and agile doctor I've ever met in my life. Now, I understand how he knew so much…and why he never ratted me out to James.
Because I'm part of a case, of an investigation, of a bigger picture, but the joke is on me; it's not the same picture I envisioned.
Instead of taking the next jump, I pick up a steel pipe and slam it against a window. Glass shatters, and I jump, evading the shattered shards as I rush through darkened rooms, hearing his harsh breaths close behind. There's a door marked 'Exit' in glowing letters, and when I shove it, red, emergency lights flash on, illuminating a spiral, iron staircase.
My feet barely touch each step as I fly down.
"Bella, wait!" His feet hit each metal step much harder.
His desperation is my fuel.
Halfway down, I hear someone run up the steps. In the space between the railings, my eyes meet those of his blond partner.
"Isabella Swan, stop right there!"
Smart little agents think they've trapped me with one giving chase from above and the other from below. But they don't know me. They don't know the goddamn hell I've been through. This is a Sunday romp through Disneyland compared to the Everglades.
I grip the railing and catapult through the wide space between the stairs, gliding the rest of the way down, my arms raised above me, my hair standing on ends as air swooshes through it and invades my lungs, euphoria tempering the pain in them.
When I land, I drop to one knee and look up.
The blond stands there, stupefied, gripping the railing as if my descent has made her dizzy. Laughable; unfortunately, I have no time to spare laughing because I appear to have lost the ability to surprise Anthony-slash-Edward. A rather disadvantageous ramification when it's clear from his current position that he's preparing to engage in the same jump – fucking, vigorous federal agent.
Nonetheless, I don't stand around to find out whether he breaks any bones. Instead, I race through the murky, half-constructed floor and wind my way through the maze of abandoned rooms until I reach another door marked "Exit." This one actually leads onto the street.
"Bella, please stop!"
Catch me if you can, you beautiful liar.
The sky opens up and sheets of rain blanket everything, precipitation pounds with punishing force against concrete and against me. My bare feet make a sickening, smacking sound against the wet cement – plat, plat, plat, plat, plat – like keys on an old-fashioned typewriter. Plat, plat, plat, plat, plat.
Plat, plat, plat, plat, plat. I hear it behind me as well.
Rain and speed push my hair into my face, wet and heavy, soaked tendrils wrapping around my mouth, and worse yet, constricting my view as I dash through darkened streets. Street lanterns serve no purpose in this downpour. Yet, I won't slow down. He's fast, and I need every millisecond of advantage I can maintain. With all the impediments to my vision, by the time I spot the black SUV speeding down the block and sending waves of water onto the sidewalk, it screeches to a halt. A handful of agents wearing bullet-proof 'FBI' vests jump out.
Are those vests supposed to be protection from me? Who the hell do they think I am?
The well-protected agents scurry toward me from the opposite direction in which Anthony-slash-Edward chases me.
"No!" Anthony-slash-Edward roars. "No! Get away from her!"
I suppose he wants the glory of my apprehension for himself. No matter. Either way, while they figure out who'll play the hero of the hour, I've spotted a detour – a narrow opening to what I can only hope is an alley. It's just a few feet ahead, and if I can evade both Anthony-slash-Edward behind me and the agents in front of me long enough to reach that opening…
There is no Oshun here – the River Goddess favored by my mom – even if she does exist. However, the gods of thieves and liars must be smiling down on me again as they did that day outside of the airport because I barely elude the clutches of Anthony-slash-Edward and the agents in front of me when I take the left. And it is, indeed, a narrow alleyway.
And it's darker than the rest of the streets. Lacking any lampposts, only the faint light emanating from a window far above provides any illumination. The alley is littered with debris, with big, black garbage bags haphazardly deposited in and around beat-up, graffitied bins. Broken beer bottles and torn plastic bags and a myriad of objects, seen and unseen, all conspire to trip me, but I sprint around and over, operating on instinct now. I am the god with winged feet so that when I look up and spot a high chain fence a few feet ahead, it doesn't concern me; it doesn't even break my stride.
"Bella, wait!"
I was born for this chase.
With a running jump, I hop onto the large, green recycling bin in front of the fence, perform a flip, grip onto the top of the fence like it's a balance beam, and tumble off.
"Bella!"
I am on a goddamned roll here.
Of course, he figures out a way to scale the chain fence as well, the cocky, strong, athletic fed. But I keep going. Betrayal fuels my wings. What's more, the soothing jingle is my inspiration. A grin spreads across my face; I can go forever here. Nothing and no one will ever stop me.
But it's dark, nebulous in this alley. Smoke and fog meld into a thick haze, and it's not until I'm less than a dozen feet from it that I note the red brick wall up ahead. It rises at least twenty feet, and concurrently questioning my recent belief in invincibility while cursing a god who won't, in fact, look after thieves and liars, I come to a grinding halt. My eyes make a rapid inspection of my perimeter, where more brick and mortar flank me.
"No," I exhale. "No."
"Enough, Bella."
His breaths are audible, so near I can almost feel their warmth bathing my neck, their counterfeit imitation of near panic in their shaky timber.
"No, I don't believe it is."
My gaze sweeps the area in a frantic search for something to climb, to scale, to propel, but there are no garbage bins, no chain fences, not even the lowly beer bottle to cast at the slowly approaching federal agent. Nothing.
"No more running, Bella."
My chest heaves. Now that I've stopped, the burn in my lungs and my limbs returns, slowly gaining momentum, the adrenaline oozing and pooling around my bare feet. So, I have to keep going because if I stop, all the pain will return, and if it does…I'm not so sure that this time, I'll survive under its weight.
But it's black…deserted…barren wasteland as far as I can see. I swipe away the raindrops blurring my vision, yet still…nothing.
"Stop trying to find a way out, Bella. You can run for miles, and I'll be right behind you. You're safe-"
"Don't. call me Bella." My voice shakes, but it's not out of fear. "Don't you ever call me Bella."
He's silent, yet I sense his steady approach, feel it in my skin like a visceral caress, and I crave it and repel it in equal measures. Even as my eyes roam the confines of the alley, even as I search for something that'll return the advantage to me, the wild thrumming of my heart is as much due to apprehension of having his arms encircle me…as it is anticipation for it.
That's when I see it.
The rain ceases for just a moment, and in that moment, the meager light shines upon it at just the right angle. The rusted, corroded fire escape ladder hanging a few feet above and to the right of me becomes both the possible means of my salvation or my downfall.
He must see it at the same time; of course, he does.
We lunge for it simultaneously, but I'm already scaling it when he reaches it, and I grin as I climb…climb…some powerful force is indeed looking out for-
He yanks my feet just as my fingers wrap around the third rung. Grin evaporating, I cling to the rung, kicking fiercely. He grunts yet keeps right on pulling, and my lower half succumbs to his strength and to gravity. Yet I hang on as long as I can as finger after finger surrenders its hold…
When I fall, it's with one leg around either of his shoulders, and this…is when we reach the final level of our game.
Lacing my hands together, I jab my elbow into his pretty…lying…face.
"Oomph!"
His grip on my legs tightens, fingertips digging into my bare thighs, and despite my furious indignation, the heat of his touch scours me, brands me…makes me want more, which ignites me all the more.
I push back with all my might, and as we fall backward as one, he releases my legs. In the next moment, I'm on my feet.
So is he.
The continuous rain darkens his hair and blurs his features, but in the darkness, his eyes almost glow.
I offer him a wry grin. "Did you really think it would be that easy, Agent Cullen?"
"Easy?" he echoes, incredulity widening those eyes. "Nothing about this is easy."
"I'll take that as a compliment," I say as I run toward him. He reaches for me with both arms, and I slide to his left. He grabs my arm before I'm more than a few inches past him, and when I spin around, I deliver a round-kick to his chest.
He reels back, comes for me again, and I spin, my wet hair smacking against my face as I jump and kick. This time, he blocks it.
Fury courses through my veins, makes my blood run hot and cold. I jab with a left hand, then a right, back and forth, back and forth, and he blocks them all.
"Come at me!" I shout. "Come at me, Agent Cullen!"
He stops, swallows hard, that lovely face almost convincingly marred with anguish and heartache.
"Bella, please, I just want to help-"
"Fuck you!"
We resume our dance, with me jabbing and kicking, and him blocking it all, his eyes full of patient sorrow, taking everything I have to give, and waiting.
"Damn liar! LIAR! Everything was a lie!"
"No, Bella!" Even as I throw punches and kicks, even as the downpour drenches us, he continues the game, the lies. "Not everything was a lie!"
Even as we fight, he feigns sincerity in his tone, and for one stupid moment, I want to believe him. Even as I spin and kick, my traitorous heart reaches up into my brain and begs it to relent, to believe that I'm more to him than a thief, a case; that when he kissed me…when he held me in his arms…it was something so tangibly real.
"Liar! Get out of my way!"
"I can't, Bella. I won't."
Mental and physical exhaustion grip and pull at every muscle, furrow into every crevice. The adrenaline dissipates, but for the sake of my survival, I have to try one more time. I have to escape him because if I don't, I'll be lost, and he doesn't want from me what I wanted from him.
Like a wild banshee, I let loose a bloodcurdling war cry. The rain falls heavily around us, grey drops that mask the world and its painful backdrop. I jump and turn while my wet hair slaps against his face…and I shriek in unimaginable agony when an elbow digs into my injured knee bone, displacing the tendon.
Everything blurs.
Pain lances through me, sharp and agonizingly swift, climbing up my thigh, while at the same time, a fist connects with my jaw so hard my teeth rattle.
I fall heavily to the floor, scraping more skin as I land on what feels like broken glass.
For a couple of endless seconds, while spasms of torment invade every corner of my body, my only vague thought is the shocked one that…he actually hit me.
In the next moment, a roar like that of an outraged bear, one that's been poked into wakefulness, erupts in front of me.
"NOOO!"
My face rests against the wet concrete, where the metallic taste of my own blood mixes with the warm raindrops puddling near my mouth. Strange, faint sounds surround me and fill my ears, more grunts and cries of agony, but these aren't coming from me. I'm too lost in my own pain to make a sound. Another eternity transpires before I'm able to slowly lift my head.
Through the confusion in my mind and the filmy haze of rain and pain blurring my vision, I observe a couple of individuals sprawled on the ground a few feet away from me. Anthony-slash-Edward stands between us, crouched and facing away from me to where half a dozen agents approach. He curls a finger.
"That's right. Take another fucking step closer and try to touch her, just try, so you can end up like those two assholes."
The men on the floor writhe and moan, yet no one moves any closer – not toward them and not toward me. When I shift my eyes back to the group of agents, the blond woman, the one who pulled the gun on me, pushes her way to the front.
"Edward, let us through!"
"Stand the fuck down, Rosalie," - Anthony-slash-Edward growls, his voice laced with a final warning even I would heed at this point, "or I swear to God that goes for you too."
Blondie retreats, hiding within the relative safety of the group.
Placing my palms flat against the ground, I try to lift my upper body, but my arms are bulky, substantial weights, drained of both the euphoric and desperate energy that kept them going; now replaced with lead. When they give, I land back on the damp concrete with another painful thud to add to the tally. My eyes, the only part of me I can still move, shift downward, finding the poor excuse for a dress I wore tonight ripped like rags, pushed above my thighs, exposing me to all and sundry.
Yes. I've lost.
The corners of my eyes burn, and for a handful of seconds, I begin wondering if this may have all been worth it; if this epic failure of mine will finally lead to the elusive tears, to those mythical creatures, the Elysian healers of all that ails me, a shaman forged out of crushing…devastating…desolation.
But, the seconds keep ticking, and despite all my torment, despite the humiliation and the mortification…despite the betrayal, the joke is still on me because raindrops keep spilling from the gloom sky, instigated by nature…while my eyes remain as dry as the desert.
I try to draw in a deep breath, but even that action hurts. So, I exhale slowly through narrowed lips, wiping the blood off my mouth with the back of my hand. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a hand reach out to me, strong and steady; long, firm fingers I recognize way too easily now as I look up into Anthony's somber, heart-rending eyes. Or Edward's. Or Agent Cullen's.
For a long while, I merely stare at him before I lower my gaze to the ground.
"Bella…please…"
I hear more than see more vehicles approach, their flashing, bright lights reflected in the puddles. Rapid charging footsteps approach.
"Edward, let me through."
That voice…it's familiar as well.
Again, I lift my head. Elayna also wears an FBI vest while she squares off against Agent Cullen, who's still in his rigid crouch between me and his fellow agents. Snorting, I rest my head again and shake it ruefully. Jesus, of course, she's one of them.
"No one is touching her, Alice," he hisses.
When she next speaks, her voice is carefully calm. "Edward, she's hurt. She needs medical attention. Let me through. I promise you, I won't allow anyone to hurt her."
Nothing happens, but a few moments later, something soft and warm touches my shoulder. Gasping, I lift my head once more. Elayna kneels on the ground in front of me, her elegant, white silk dress gone, and in its place are jeans and her vest.
"Isabella…Bella, my name…my real name is Alice Brandon. Will you let me help you?"
As with Anthony, I merely stare and make no reply. However, when her hand slowly and gently skims my shoulder and hooks under my arm, I allow it.
"Medics!" she calls.
A team of medical personnel approach, and this time, without requiring massive begging and pleading, Anthony-slash-Edward allows them access. With fast, skillful, and cautious motions, they lift me onto a stretcher, while I clamp my lips together to keep from screaming in agony. All the while, in my periphery, I see him watching. Once they have me situated, I'm quickly wheeled out of the alley.
"Wait! Wait, I'm coming with- Get off!"
Some sort of a struggle ensues, and I look; of course, I look. He and I have been on this cat and mouse caper for too long for me to ignore his next move. Two agents hold Agent Cullen back – a tall, lanky, blond man and another tall though much brawnier one.
"Edward, Alice will take care of her."
"Ed, that's enough for now. Isabella needs medical attention, and you…you need to calm yourself down."
Our eyes meet. They wheel me away, our gazes locked until the penumbra surrounding us morphs into a total, shadow-less void, and the silhouette of his presence remains only behind my lids.
A/N: Thoughts?
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***The first time I wrote this chapter, the song I had in my head as I wrote was 'Hearing Damage' by Thom Yorke. This time around, it was still there. :)
"See" you soon, and stay safe.