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 as well.
Chapter 20 – Backed Against a Wall
Edward
It's past midnight when we arrive back in New York City with Jacob Black in tow. He's been quiet throughout the return trip, his gaze fixed on windows – car windows, plane windows, any windows. His silence should be a reprieve after the lunacy we left behind in Hialeah, but instead of clearing my mind in this calm before the storm, I begin wondering what he sees in those windows. I doubt he sees the world beyond, but instead, he likely envisions a torturous series of reflections, all of which must seem increasingly distant with every mile we put between him and Miami. For example, when I caught his wistful smiles alternate with painful grimaces, like some masochistic voyeur into his private thoughts, I made a game of forcing myself to guess what caused them.
What I surmised was that his girlfriend, Leah, stars in most of those images, with scenes from the past likely fusing and melding with clips of an uncertain future. Thoughts of their child would naturally lead back to the moment in which they created it; then, like a movie reel, the scene likely skips forward to a birth that hasn't occurred yet. He probably now wonders whether he'll witness that birth or if he'll find out about it after the fact. He likely fears he won't be around to see his kid's first steps, to hear that coveted first word.
On the car ride to Headquarters, his trepidation is so palpable that I can almost feel it seeping between my skin, throbbing at my temples. My palms grow sweaty every time he squirms in his seat and wipes off his clammy hands on his thighs. Under any other set of circumstances, remorse might also have its place among the second-hand sensations I'm experiencing, its weight hefty for where I'm leading him, for what he may miss out on. After all, I've guaranteed him nothing.
But the key words there are 'under any other set of circumstances.'
Under the current set of circumstances, similar thoughts to those torturing him torment me throughout the trip back to New York, and they trump both his torment and any remorse I might've felt. You see, my tortured thoughts revolve around a different woman and her uncertain future, and how I'll be damned if her possibilities are limited because no one – including herself – looked out for them.
OOOOO
Whitlock meets us in Headquarters' underground parking garage. We've decided to bring Jacob in through a side entrance. Though there's no avoiding registering him in the building, he won't be processed just yet. We're hoping the semi-covert entry will buy us some time before word trickles up to Haywood that Jacob Black is in the building.
Whitlock strides toward us briskly while raking one hand through a disheveled mess of blond hair. His button-down shirt is creased, pants wrinkled, bluish circles rimming his eyes, and more than a day's worth of stubble covers his face. They're all indicators that he's had almost as hectic a day as Emmett and I have had. Almost. By way of illustrating this fact, he stops in front of us, and his eyes inspect my face and the new bruises with which I've returned. He acknowledges each one with a cursory nod.
"Well, I'm glad I at least didn't have to deal with that."
"You have no idea."
Snorting, he takes in Jacob's hulking frame beside me with a misplaced degree of wonder, considering I've given him a head's up that we were on our way back with him in custody.
"You crazy fuckers," he breathes, shaking his head, eyes still set on Jacob. "You got him. You got him and brought him in, though it seems Cullen paid for it with his face."
"Never mind the damage to Ed's pretty face. It'll heal, but I'm not sure my soul has returned intact after that show we had to endure." Emmett shudders.
"What show?" Jasper asks.
"Let's get one thing clear here; nobody got me. I came willingly."
In a placating gesture, Whitlock puts up a hand toward Jacob and his spat clarification.
"Acknowledged. Mr. Black, I'm Assistant Director Jasper Whitlock, the agent in charge of this operation, and I'd like to express our gratitude for your-"
"I don't need no goddamn gratitude or acknowledgment. I came because I was told by your guys here that both Bells and I would receive immunity."
Again, Whitlock raises a mollifying, slow-your-roll hand. "We're working on that, but-"
"Let's get something else straight, Black." When I've got Jacob's attention, I meet his scowl with a hard glare of my own. Unlike Whitlock, I'm in no mood to play peacemaker. "I haven't promised you a thing. Before this proceeds in any way, Bella has to see you in our custody, and it's she who has to request your immunity as a condition for her testimony."
"Correct," Whitlock says. "And though one of our fellow agents, Special Agent Brandon, has been working around the clock trying to make Miss Swan understand the gravity of the situation, she's still refusing to do so. She doesn't want to name your involvement in anything, Mr. Black."
Jake shakes his head, nostrils flaring. "Motherfuckers."
"Err..okay. Well, we have to work quickly. The U.S. Marshal's WitSec rep and the Assistant D.A. will be here in a few, short hours. Now, to save some time, in case she's convinced once she sees you here, I've prepared the preliminary paperwork on Isabella's behalf. Her immunity and protection are already on the table as part of the agreement, but we'd now be demanding your immunity as an additional condition for her to agree to testify against James Penn."
Whitlock sighs. His eyes furtively flash between Emmett and me in a wordless exchange meant to put us on alert, to be prepared in case Jacob Black doesn't like whatever Whitlock is about to say.
He eyes Jacob warily. "But I won't lie to you here, Mr. Black; without Isabella's agreement to testify, there will be no immunity for anyone. And what's more, our director can still refuse her request…and you're already in the building."
"And you can't exactly just let me walk out of here now, can you?" Jacob snarls, hands fisted at his sides.
In response, my shoulders square up, and my body tenses in preparation for another round with Jacob. I don't have to look to know that Emmett is doing the same. If Jacob tries to run, we'll have to stop him. But the truth is…I wouldn't even blame him for the attempt. Jesus, the knowledge that in a few weeks, I'll probably never see Bella again has been continuously twisting a knife in my gut, keeping a constant stream of bile churning at the base of my throat, since I allowed myself to see that this is where this entire ordeal is headed. I can only imagine what the possibility of long-term separation from his pregnant girlfriend is doing to Jacob.
But again, his well-being isn't my priority. Either way, as much shit as Jacob is still talking, instead of trying something, he side-glances both Emmett and me and chuckles derisively.
"Tell your agents to stand the hell down. They've explained the situation, and I'm not stupid enough to try anything while in FBI Headquarters, teeming with a bunch of assholes."
Emmett steps up to Jacob. "Listen, Black, I'm getting tired of your big mouth."
"Oh yeah? Why don't you do something about it so that I can kick your ass the way I kicked your buddy's here?"
Ignoring that verbal jab, I cut in between them both. "Alright, enough. We don't have time for all this. Let's get moving."
Emmett and Jacob glower at one another for a few more seconds before Emmett smirks and steps back. "Let's go."
With Jacob and Emmett walking in front, Whitlock steps in line with me a few feet behind them.
"Black seems…volatile and temperamental," Whitlock murmurs. "Are we sure we can trust him even to attempt to convince Isabella to testify?"
"Let's not pretend we've given either of them much reason to trust us in the first place, nor that we're not banking their futures on a whole lot of 'ifs' and 'until' scenarios. He's a hot-headed asshole, yeah; even his father will say so. But…he cares about her, enough to take this risk." I meet Whitlock's gaze. "How this goes down is just another unknown and another chance we have to take."
"True," Whitlock breathes after a few moments.
Neither will I lie to myself and pretend that, in Bella's eyes, even under the best-case scenario, I'm not about to back her into a corner. I'm about to betray her once more, and thereby assure myself her eternal contempt – even should she see Jacob and indeed agree to testify and demand his immunity in addition to her own, and should Haywood be so hungry for James' blood as to grant both.
OOOOO
Once we check in, we're racing against time, not only because the Witsec rep will be here in a few hours, but because at any moment, Haywood will receive word that Jacob Black has been processed in the building. The knot in my gut tightens as we make our way briskly through the basement's dark hallways, less crowded due to the time of night. Whitlock informs me that Alice has spent most of the day with Bella and that she's woken her but hasn't told her for what. Alice has also purposely chosen the smallest and least popular interrogation room in one of the most abandoned corners of the building for our reunion. The fewer eyes and witnesses around us, the better.
Alice waits just outside the interrogation room. Her arms are crossed against her chest, and her gaze is on a foot she's anxiously tapping against the tiles. When she notes our approach, her head shoots up. A similar sort of apprehension to that on Whitlock is etched on her face, though when her eyes flash to me, there's something else there, an unease I don't have time to examine as we reach her. Then, all our eyes trail toward the one-way mirror behind her.
"I tried to delay things with the Witsec rep and the D.A.'s office, but unfortunately, everything's running on schedule. They'll be here by seven this morning."
Eyes still on the one-way mirror, I nod in confirmation, though all my attention is now on Bella. She's alone in the room. The lights are dimmed, a drab, yellow glow reflected in the sparse room and leaching into the white walls. Her head rests on the lone table's top, her tangled, dyed blond hair splayed wildly and contrasting with its dark wooden surface. That's it. That's all that's visible of her, and a sharp sense of disappointment shoots through me hard and fast like the tip of an arrow because after such a fucked up day…after such a long night, all I want is to see her face.
And on the heels of that selfish thought, I'm overpowered by such an acute sense of concern for her that my body quivers with it.
"Is she okay? Why is she laid out like that?" My voice vibrates, along with the rest of me.
Slowly turning toward me, Alice waits for me to meet her gaze. "Because she's tired, Edward. You look like hell, but it's been a long twenty-four hours here as well. She's also a bit disoriented after having been woken in the middle of the night, and add to that the lingering wooziness from the painkillers she's on, but other than that-"
"Other than that?" I snort, nostrils flaring. "Other than that, let's get in there and blindside her now, huh?"
My accusatory words and flaming tone have nothing to do with Alice, nor are they in any way criticism for the care I know she's given Bella over the past day. Instead, they're everything to do with the self-reproach that, for over twenty-four hours now, I've been struggling with. Seeing Bella now, I'm ready to buckle under its massive weight. Its force grows exponentially when Jacob piles on yet even more charges.
"You did this to her, Cullen, because she trusted you," he hisses, his furious gaze glued to the one-way mirror. "You allowed her to be-"
"Hold up there, Jacob Black."
Alice directs the command with so much authority that despite the hardship the rest of us have had silencing Jacob's venom since we arrived at Headquarters, his jaw clamps shut almost audibly. I've got about a second to enjoy the sight before Alice redirects her indignation my way.
"And you too, Edward. And both of you, Emmett and Jasper," she spouts. "Let's make sure we're all on the same page here before we walk in there because if we're going to pull this off, we all need to be on the same side. Now, I've spent the better part of twenty-four hours with that woman in there," – she points sharply at the one-way mirror – "and while I'll concede that Jacob and Edward know her better than I do at this point, it's obvious you're both thinking like dumbass Neanderthals. And as tired or disoriented or whatever the hell Bella may be at the moment," she glares at me, "she will chew you both the fuck up and spit you the hell out if you walk in there with your current attitudes."
"What are you talking about, Al?"
"Yeah," Jacob adds indignantly, all of a sudden looking to me for clarification. "I have no idea what she-"
"Hey, buddy, look over here." She snaps her fingers in Jacob's face. "I'm the one talking, right? And I'm talking about Edward and his shamefaced, guilt-ridden puppy eyes full of self-reproach."
Jacob snickers, but the look she offers him wipes all amusement off his face instantly.
"And you, Jacob Black, coming all up in here with that chip on your shoulder, like you're the only one who gives a damn about Bella," she sneers, "like you plan to go in there and let her know that it's still just the both of you against the world, thereby undermining all the effort we've all been putting in here. Do you know what'll happen if you both go in there like that?"
He blinks wordlessly.
"She will feed off of your perceived guilt," she says toward me, "and your overblown fury," she says toward Jacob, "and she'll trust absolutely no one, and this will go nowhere!" Alice whisper shouts. "And we do not have time for this!'
For a few moments, Jacob and I both stand there silently.
"Now, get a hold of yourselves, put on your game faces or whatever the hell you want to call them right now because I don't give a fuck what's going on inside you both at the moment, we're all going in there with one goal: being Isabella's ally. Am I right? I said, am I right?" she demands at our continued stupor.
"You're right, Alice. You're right. Isn't she?" I ask Jacob pointedly.
"Yeah," he sighs. "Yeah, she is."
Behind Alice, I vaguely note the awed respect and perhaps a touch of fear on Emmett and Jasper's expressions. Swallowing hard, I clear all emotion from my features.
"Are we ready?"
Alice studies me before she gives the door a couple of quick raps and turns the knob, and I draw in a deep breath.
When Bella's head shoots up, like a moth to a flame, I'm instantly drawn to her taupe eyes. For an eternal moment, they're all I see. It's only toward the end of that moment that I note their slightly dazed appearance. Her pupils are dilated, likely part exhaustion and part meds, as Alice suggested. Yet, caught by surprise and still in the throes of sleepiness, they're the most beautiful, peaceful sight I've seen in twenty-four hours, perhaps the most beautiful sight ever. With her senses just awakening, it takes her a handful of seconds to look beyond Alice, who walked in first. When she spots Jacob, who walked in behind Alice, her eyes narrow.
"Jake?" She mouths his name in a still unfocused haze, tilting her head to one side, examining him, obviously baffled by his presence.
Then…she catches sight of me, just behind Jacob.
Jesus, her breath quietly hitches, and for a couple of heartbeats…for a couple of heartbeats, she takes me in through eyes darkened more by bewilderment than by suspicion. And for those couple of heartbeats, as she holds my gaze, something akin to an actual smile begins to lift one corner of her mouth; relief is palpable in her long exhale, and my heart soars at her reaction. Until she breathes my name.
Because it's not my name.
"Anthony."
In the next moment, my soaring heart crashes to earth as comprehension, both hers and mine, dawns. I see her new awareness in the successive blinking she performs, in the growing pupils, and in the daze that clears and wipes the sleepy, peaceful expression from her beautiful face.
She forgot. For one short moment, in a brief reprieve, before I rock her world to its core yet again, she forgot where she is. She forgot who I am – who I really am.
With her mind growing sharper by the moment, her eyes sweep the room once again, roaming from one face to the other. This time, as she fits the pieces she would've instantly arranged and placed like a child's simple puzzle had she not been chased and beaten twenty-four hours earlier and thereby now drugged up on painkillers, had she not been asleep a few minutes earlier then woken and escorted to a strange room in the middle of the night, she gasps loudly and jerks back from her seat. The chair scrapes against the floor like nails on a chalkboard.
"Jacob!" Her features morph from confused disbelief to abject horror, and I know when she's fit the last piece of the puzzle into place because her gaze returns to me, eyes narrowed into contemptuous slits and shooting daggers.
"You," she hisses. "YOU ASSHOLE!"
She lunges from her seat, headed for me with no negligible amount of fury dancing in her eyes, which makes her forget something again – her injured foot – and she stumbles. Reaching instinctively, I catch her in my arms.
We collide and come together as if an electric current has magnetized us, wrapped us in its overpowering web and wound its inescapable coils around our limbs. Time stands still, and all I feel are her fingers digging into the bruised ribs on either side of me, painful, yet I wouldn't give up the sensation for the world on a silver platter. In turn, I grip her hips just as forcefully. Her chest heaves, heavy breaths washing over me, heart beating fast and hard next to mine, and I swear they're both in sync, both hammering to the same erratic rhythm. For one, long moment, while our eyes hold, and the pads of my fingers absorb the heat that seeps from her skin, we're anywhere but in this cold, sterile holding room in the basement of FBI headquarters. Without conscious thought, I raise a hand, intending to nudge away a few strands of her hair that are partially covering her right eye and obstructing my full view.
When she shoves my hand away, the bracelet around her arm jingles once with her abrupt movement, and the fingers eager to run through her hair remain poised in midair. In the next moment, she rams her palms flat against my chest.
"Get the hell away from me," she sneers, and in the mayhem that ensues, she stands alone in the middle of the room, eyes wild and wary, jumping agitatedly from face to face. Just as Alice suggested, she's seemingly unable to trust anyone.
"Bella-"
"Don't speak to me! Don't you dare speak to me!" She points a finger sharply at me, and then she fists her hair. "I can't even- Let Jake go! He had nothing to do with this!"
"Bella, I can't do that."
"Bells-"
"Jake, don't tell them anything," she spouts quickly, eyes still on me. "You asshole! You used me! The entire time-"
"No, Bella!"
"Bella, listen to us," Alice interrupts. "You and I spoke about this. We're all just trying to help you."
"Then, keep Jake out of this!"
"Isabella, we can't do that," Jasper says. "Mr. Black is an integral part of-"
"No, he's not!"
Emmett attempts to reason with her. "Isabella, it's no secret that Jake was involved in-"
"Then fucking keep it a secret! Let him go!"
"Bella, please." I take a step close to her, while she glares fiercely at me. "Please, please stop and listen to me."
"Listen to you? Why the hell would I listen to you, Agent Cullen? Every time I stop and listen to you, I end up fucked! I get chased, lied to, called a whore, and I end up like this!"
Bella gestures wildly toward the injuries on her, and despite wanting to cringe, I maintain a stoic façade and try not to crumble under the weight of her recriminations – because they're all accurate. I've chased her, lied to her, indirectly called her a whore, and even though I didn't give them to her, all her physical injuries can be laid at my doorstep.
Then…she goes in the for the kill.
"Listen to you," she scoffs once more. "What do you have planned for me the next time I listen to you? A nice, toasty electric chair?"
Unable to bear that image, I squeeze my eyes shut tightly and exhale hard through narrowed lips. "Jesus."
"Bella, that's not fair," Alice says.
When I reopen my eyes, a flash of something resembling shame and remorse colors her features. When she addresses me again, it's barely more calmly and with a note of apology in her tone.
"Look, just leave Jake out of this, and I'll testify to whatever you want. But he stays out of this."
"It won't work that way, Bella. The director needs a full statement from you, including Jake's involvement, and a return of the funds you both still have in Cayman accounts. It's the only way he'll grant you immunity."
With every word I speak, venom fills her eyes once more.
"You and the rest of this fucking bureau can take your immunity and shove it up your shady asses. I don't want it. I don't need it." She pauses. "I never asked you to be my fucking hero. I never wanted you to be!"
A flame of my own fury licks up my chest and colors my vision in red because though I don't seek her gratitude, I'm fucking exhausted, I haven't slept in over forty-eight hours, and her unwillingness to save herself is starting to bug the shit out of me.
"No," I hiss. "You never asked me to be your hero, but I'm going to try my damnedest to be so anyway, whether you want it or not because it's obvious from everything I know and have seen of you that you lack any sort of self-preservation instinct."
"Go to hell, Agent Cullen! Do you think a few interactions and some bullshit file you've put together on me makes you some sort of expert on my life? You don't know a damn thing about me or my self-preservation instincts! You have no fucking clue what I've been…" her voice catches as she trails off, and in my periphery, I vaguely note how Alice drops her eyes to the floor. "I was doing a pretty good job of taking care of myself until I made the mistake of trusting you, which is why I won't implicate Jacob, no matter what you-"
"Bells!"
Bella stops mid-tirade when Jacob shouts her name, turning her attention to him.
"Is what this guy says true? Have they offered you immunity and protection in exchange for your sworn statement about what happened that night and the events afterward?"
She nods. "Yes, Jake, but-"
"Then give it to them."
Bella shakes her head vehemently. "No, Jake. I won't. Don't admit to anything, Jake. Don't give-"
"Bells," he says gently, "I already have."
Her face falls. As he continues, Bella squeezes her eyes shut. Though I know he's saying what he must, playing the part we've all agreed to play here, the defeated expression on her face makes my heart constrict.
"I'm here, Bells. It's too late. You either save us both by testifying…or we both go down. Both our futures are in your hands now, Bells."
For a long, painful moment, the room is silent, collective breaths held while Bella stands in the middle of the room with her eyes still closed.
"I can't believe you did this," she eventually whispers. "You took everything I told you…everything I confided in you…and you used it against me. You left me with no choice."
"I had to, Bells."
"She's not talking to you, Jake," I say. "She's talking to me."
Bella reopens her eyes and holds me locked in her fiery gaze.
"It was the only way, Bella. You may not see that…or even forgive me, but your forgiveness couldn't be my main concern."
She offers me a grin that makes my blood run cold. "No, of course not. Your main concern has always been your case and crossing off every 't' and dotting every 'i' related to it. And now, you've got everyone involved under your-"
"Bells, enough!"
She stops but still refuses to release me from her gaze.
"Bells, regardless of Cullen's reasons, this is the only way neither you nor me – nor Leah and our baby – have to worry about running for the rest of our lives."
Bella draws in a long, shaky breath, and when her shoulders slump, it's as if every last bit of fight has gone out of her. And I hate myself for doing this to her.
But I'll hate myself more if she's ever hurt again.
Bella says my name evenly. "Agent Cullen, will we be guaranteed in writing that Jake and his family will be granted immunity?"
"Yes. Jasper has the paperwork ready. The U.S. Marshal's rep and the Assistant D.A. will both be here in a short while to go over them with you and Jake, should you decide," I say cautiously, "to accept immunity for you both, and witness protection for you, Bella."
Her brow furrows. "Witness…protection?"
I'm forced to take a moment before I speak to ensure my voice doesn't quiver. "Bella, after your statement, Jacob and his family will be placed under FBI protection, back in Miami. You'll be placed in a safe house until the trial, after which you'll be relocated somewhere, provided a new identity and-"
"And made to disappear," she finishes. All the while, her eyes are pinned to me. "I'll leave everyone behind, including…" she trails off. "So, I guess that'll wrap up the entire situation nicely, won't it, Agent Cullen? Then we can all pretend none of this ever happened."
Swallowing hard, I make no reply, yet I can't tear my eyes away from her enigmatic gaze.
Bella offers me a nod of her own. "Very well. Please inform whoever the hell needs to be informed that I'll testify under all the conditions listed in that document." She waves vaguely toward Jasper. "Then, Agent Cullen, we'll have our trial, you'll win your case, and all your sacrifices over the past couple of years will be a distant memory, while I'll…I'll disappear."
A/N: Thoughts?
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