Chapter 8 - The Hunt
It's after 8 o'clock on a Monday night, and Rory Parker is bored out of her mind.
She sits on her bed while painting her fingernails a bold shade of fuchsia. With the volume of her television set turned up almost all the way, an episode of TV's Bloopers & Practical Jokes blares from across the room. She isn't watching it. It's turned on for one purpose - to drown out the noises seeping through her bedroom walls.
Her mouth is blowing her fingernails dry when the Garfield telephone on her nightstand rings. Garfield's closed eyes pop open once she lifts the telephone handset from its base.
"Hello." She answers the phone in more of a sigh than greeting.
"Hey, Rory. Whatcha doing?" her friend, Claudia, asks.
"Nothing. I've been grounded."
"Again?"
"Again," Rory confirms, rolling her eyes.
"What for this time?"
Rory huffs through her nose at the memory. "My mom went into my closet - claiming that she was only hanging up some of my clothes - and came across my stash of wine coolers."
"Uh-oh."
"I had them hidden underneath a mountain of shit, so you know Mom had to have been snooping around in order to find them." Rory turns down the volume of Dick Clark's chatter on her small TV set since it looks like this will be a long conversation. "Anyway, Mom's been on my case ever since I stepped foot in the house this afternoon. She's acting like I've been running a bar or something from my bedroom. Can you believe she grounded me for a whole month?"
Claudia sucks in a breath. "That's harsh."
"Tell me about it. It's totally unfair," Rory grumbles. "Dad thinks so, too."
"Really?" Claudia says, her tone hinting at her disbelief.
"Yeah. As soon as Mom told him about everything, he said that she was overreacting. 'Cause, you know, they're basically just fruit juice with a little wine mixed in. Big deal, right? He was like, 'She's a teenager. That's what teenagers do - they drink. Wouldn't you rather Rory drink a wine cooler than something harder?' I thought he made a good point, but Mom didn't buy it. She said getting caught drinking any alcohol at my age could get me arrested and damage my reputation. They've been arguing over what to do ever since. Hear 'em?" She holds the telephone in the air, allowing her patients' raised voices to be heard through the landline.
"Whoa," Claudia whispers. "They're really going at it."
"I know. I wish they'd shut up and take a breather. I'm sick of hearin' 'em fight all the time. I can't wait 'til I can leave this place." She screws the cap back on the nail polish and puts it away. "But enough about me and my shitty life. What are you doing tonight?"
"Nothing much. Some of us are gonna go to the beach, light a bonfire, and hang out for a couple of hours. That's why I was calling you, actually. I was going to see if you could come, too."
Rory sits up a little straighter, eyes glowing with rising interest. "Any guys gonna be there?"
"For sure."
She breaks into a wide smile. "Awesome. So, when can you pick me up?"
"Wait. You're coming? But you're grounded, Rory."
"Wow. No shit, Sherlock." Rory lets out a mocking laugh. "I can't believe you thought I'd actually go along with it. I can slip out my window and book it outta here any time I want, no problem."
"Yeah. I'm sure you could, but aren't you worried you'll get into even more trouble?" questions Claudia.
"Nah. I've escaped this way all the time and never been caught before. That's the beauty of having a bedroom on the ground floor and parents who are great at arguing. They never notice what's going on right under their noses. There's no way they'll realize I left the house."
"OK. If you're sure..."
"Totally sure," Rory butts in. "You borrowing your mom's car tonight?"
"No. I'm hitching a ride with Amy. She can pick you up, too, though."
"Great. I'll get ready and meet you guys near the old rock crushing plant."
"That's a pretty far walk for you, isn't it? Why not meet us closer to your house?"
"Duh. Because my parents or one of the neighbors might hear you pull up and see me sneaking off. Besides, the plant isn't that far off. It's - like - ten minutes tops from my driveway."
"Fine. We'll meet you in the plant's parking lot as soon as we can," Claudia agrees.
Rory hangs up the phone and rushes to get ready. Her closet door gets flung open wide as she searches for an outfit. It's important that she be dressed to kill. If Patrick Winslow or Martin Schuster show up at the beach, she might actually have a good time tonight.
After a thorough survey of what's in the closet, she slips into her favorite denim skirt. Over her legs goes some nude panty hose. Since it's a little chilly outside, she throws on a pair of white leg warmers and stuffs her feet into the leather slouch boots she bought recently. Gazing into the mirror hanging on the wall, she turns her body this way and that to check for imperfections. There's something wrong with the shirt she chose, she decides. She takes it off and stretches the neck line. When she pulls the shirt back over her head, she's pleased to find that one side now hangs below her right shoulder - exactly as she envisioned.
With her clothes taken care of, she grabs a hairbrush and teases her fiery-red hair, giving it more volume than before. Her attention then moves to her face. She outlines her eyes with black liner and applies a streak of rouge to both cheeks. Lastly, she adds a pair of white hoop earrings to complete her look.
Rory takes a moment to smile at her reflection.
Patrick won't know what hit him. Or Martin. It doesn't matter. Either one will do. She isn't picky tonight.
Rory grabs her purse and tosses in a few essentials in case she has a hair or makeup emergency. Slinging the purse over a shoulder, she shoves open the window and slips quietly outside. She doesn't bother to hide the evidence of her departure, like placing pillows underneath the blankets to make it appear she is asleep in bed. She feels confident her parents won't check on their daughter any time soon. They'll probably fight until Johnny Carson comes on late night NBC. Then, as they always do when they're angry at one another, they will go to sleep in separate rooms. The possibility that their daughter is no longer in the house will never cross their minds.
Rory's white boots land in the flowerbed outside of the window. She steps carefully around her mother's prized petunias and hops over to the grass. She sticks as close to the shadows of the house as she can, ducking whenever she passes a window with the curtains drawn open. Upon reaching the driveway, she scans her surroundings. Most of the properties in this rural area boast many acres of land, which often puts quite a bit of distance between the houses. Rory always appreciated the fact that the houses were not cramped together, like how they are in town. It makes sneaking out much easier. But, you still had to watch out for trouble. The people who live nearby are mostly old-fashioned farmers who believe that they should keep an eye on the goings-on of their neighbors' properties. The last thing Rory needed is for the nosy hag across the street to blab about how that "Parker girl" was seen tiptoeing down the street after dark on a school night. Rory's parents would flip out and probably cut off her allowance for good if word leaked out about their daughter's after hours activities.
Satisfied that no one is watching, Rory makes a break for it. She scurries down the quiet road, passing several houses in the process. No one raises the alarm concerning her escape. It helps that there are no street lamps installed along county roadways, shining down like searchlights in a federal prison. Her pace slows once she reaches an uninhabited zone. This area is surrounded by nothing except trees, trees, and more trees.
Rory walks a bit taller, feeling immensely proud of her accomplishment. The likelihood that she'll be caught now is practically zero.
The rock crushing plant peeks over the horizon minutes into her walk. Except for a single exterior light, the property is shrouded in darkness. The plant once employed dozens of workers and produced tons of gravel each day, yet that ended when the owner closed the plant's doors five years earlier. The building and its surrounding property lay vacant ever since. A For Sale sign on the front of the building just barely clings to the red brick exterior, the real estate agency's name and contact information faded with age.
Upon arriving at her destination, Rory finds a spot in the middle of the plant's parking area to wait. She folds her arms over her chest - one leg bending slightly at the knee - and stares at the empty road leading towards Forks. Impatience grows by the second.
Ugh. Where's Claudia and Amy? she complains to herself. They're taking forever. Like, it's only four miles from Forks to the rock crushing plant. That's nothing. I could walk to the beach on foot quicker than Amy drives.
Tapping her right foot in annoyance, she happens to glance downwards. Even in the half-darkness, she catches a glimpse of an enormous disaster.
Smudges of thick, brown mud have caked on to the sides of her beloved white boots.
Rory's eyebrows slant in anger. "I guess that's what I get for trying to look nice around Forks," she grumbles. "Fucking mud all over the place."
Digging through her purse, she selects the wad of tissues she normally uses to blot her lipstick. She squats down on the asphalt and cleans her boots until they look new again. Rising up from the ground, her body protests at the uncomfortable position she had been in. Her back stretches into an arch, with the hope of soothing the pain in her muscles.
A sharp, catcall whistle slices suddenly through the night air.
And she knows it's not from an animal.
Rory's head snaps left and right, searching all around for the origin of that whistle. It's at this moment she finally notices the silhouette of a man. He leans on the darkened side of the vacant building, one foot propped against the outside wall. At the sound of Rory's quick intake of breath, he pushes himself off the brick exterior and takes several steps in her direction. Soon, he passes underneath the lone exterior light on the property, exposing his pale skin to her for the first time. Long, dusty blonde hair frames his face. Once he's within speaking distance of Rory, he comes to a stop. His gaze moves slowly, deliberately, up and over the curves of Rory's body until he meets her eyes. The corners of his mouth creep up into a smile, one full of mystery and unknown intentions.
Rory's heart pounds furiously within her chest, like a battering ram against a castle door. She has no clue who this guy could be, or why he might be hanging around at the site of an abandoned business long after sunset. Only one fact can she be certain of:
Never, ever has she seen a finer man than this one.
Every detail about him speaks to her on some level. His sly smile. His confident swagger. Even his clothing style - which typically she would have found ugly and untrendy if worn on somebody else - captivates her entire being. The black leather vest suits the man, giving him the "bad boy" vibe Rory has always been drawn towards. Sadly, Forks doesn't have many guys fitting that description.
"You know... it's dangerous to be wandering the roads alone at this time of night," the man begins. "Especially for a girl that looks the way you do."
Rory quickly recovers from the shock of meeting someone in such a lonely and desolate area. Flirting she can handle. This guy's voice literally drips with sex.
She flashes him a smirk of her own. "Well, I guess it's a good thing for me that I'm not alone anymore."
Amusement dances within the stranger's coal black eyes. "Yes. That is a very good thing," he agrees. The guy moves in closer, until only a few feet separate them. "So, you don't mind if I keep you company?"
"Nope." The word pops from Rory's mouth, her lips smacking suggestively.
The man's smile widens further. "In that case, you may call me James. And your name?"
"I usually go by Rory. But, for you, you can call me anything you want."
James chuckles to himself. "See, this is how girls are supposed to behave. When you see something you like, you don't hold back. Do you?"
"Hell no."
James laughs again, louder than before. "And blunt. How wonderfully blunt you girls of today are." He walks around Rory once, examining her from all sides - like a shark circling its prey. "Tell me something. I'm curious. Do you find me... attractive?"
Rory snorts at the question. "Like, ye-ah. Who wouldn't?"
The man stills in front of her. His eyes lose a small portion of their humor. "Who wouldn't?" James repeats in monotone. His thumbs slip into his belt loops as he contemplates her remark. "I'll tell you who wouldn't. Only a couple of hours ago, a girl from this area suggested that I was not up to her standards. She 'blew me off' - as some might say - and left with someone else."
Rory's nose crinkles at the tip, the very thought of anyone rejecting James and believing he was anything less than a perfect specimen of a man outraged her. "What an idiot," she sneers. "The girl must be brain damaged. You're - like - a mega stud."
His smile returns. "I'm glad at least one person around here feels that way."
"Damn right I do. You're just like David Lee Roth, but way finer." Roth's long, rocker hair was almost as wonderful to behold as James'. Almost being the key word.
"Who?" James asks.
"You know. David Lee Roth. The guy from Van Halen."
His brows scrunch together, clear bewilderment painted on his face. "Van Halen?"
Rory rolls her eyes. "Gah! Even I know who Van Halen is, and I live in the dullest, most backward, hick town on planet Earth. Where have you been living? Under a rock?"
"No. I've been living in the woods," James replies.
Rory blinks her confusion. Then, she bursts into giggles. "Very funny. But, seriously, where do you live, anyway? I know you're not from around here."
His lips purse out as he forms a response. "I don't have what you would call a permanent home, if that's what you're wondering. I travel extensively."
Rory's ears perk up at the news. "You travel a lot?"
"Yes. The last time I had dinner, I was passing through San Francisco." A small smirk slips up his face.
"Wow. You must really get around. So, what do you do? Are you a traveling salesman or something?"
He barks out a sharp laugh. "No. My lifestyle allows me to travel for mainly pleasure. Although, luckily for me, some unfinished business in Forks led me straight to you."
Rory takes the tiny scraps of information he gave her and allows her imagination to fill in the blanks.
I bet he owns his own business, she concludes. That's why he's at the vacant plant. He's thinking of buying it. He must be LOADED!
Her mind drifts into a world of fantasy, thinking of how James must travel to all of the best, most interesting places money can take you. Nights spent partying in New York City. Days frolicking on the beaches of Southern California. He must lead a perfect life, she believes. The temptation to leave the monotony of Forks behind her and join him on his whirlwind trip around the country quickly rises above all of her other desires.
The sound of a car slowing down wipes the daydream smile from her face. "Shit!" she whines. "Why do they gotta show up now?"
Black eyes narrow down at her. "I wasn't aware that you were expecting someone," James says, a touch of accusation haunting his tone.
Rory studies his expression for a moment. She wonders if maybe he assumes it's a boyfriend of hers coming to pick her up. The idea that James could be jealous over her already pleases her very much. "Don't worry," she assures him. "It's just my friends. We were planning on going to the beach and partying with some other people we know for a couple of hours. You wanna come with us?"
James unhooks his thumbs from his belt loops. His hand lifts her chin, angling her face so she may look him deep in the eyes. A thrill shoots through her body. His touch is abnormally cold, yet Rory barely notices this through the thick haze of lust hijacking her senses. "No," he whispers huskily. "I was hoping it could just be you and me tonight. You see, I prefer one-on-one interactions and plenty of privacy. We can't have that if we're surrounded by a crowd." James winds a strand of her auburn hair around his ivory white finger, a smile playing at his lips. "Do you understand what I mean?"
Rory's insides melt.
James wants me bad, she thinks to herself.
With a fluttering heart, she makes a snap decision.
"I totally get it. I'll just shoo them away if that's what you want," she says.
A look of appeasement crosses James' face. "Good girl," he breathes out.
When Amy Falco's beat up Lincoln Continental pulls into the rock crushing plant's parking area, Rory rushes over to the driver's side of the car and knocks on the glass until the window rolls down. "What's wrong, Rory?" Amy asks, her eyes widening with concern. "You look-"
"Shh!" Rory glances over her shoulder to check on James' whereabouts. He stands perfectly still while his gaze continues to wander around the industrial property, appearing completely indifferent to the arrival of these other girls. Rory focuses back on her friends, sticks her head close to the opened window, and shares a proud grin. "Nothing's wrong," she says, her voice lowering to a whisper. "Nothing at all. I mean, how could there be? Just look what I've caught tonight."
Her friends crane their necks around her and stare in marked surprise at the masculine figure standing in the pale moonlight. Amy's black eyebrows shoot up her forehead. "Huh. He's kinda cute," she comments.
"What do you mean, 'kinda cute'?" Rory's face scrunches together in distaste. "He's friggin' gorgeous."
Claudia speaks up from the passenger seat, her head cocked slightly to the side as she studies the nearby stranger. "He looks all right, I guess, but I wouldn't say he's gorgeous. He's no Edward Cullen, that's for sure."
Rory's eyes flare into balls of fire. After what happened in the school cafeteria last week, the subject of Edward Cullen remains a sore spot for her. "Are you spazzing out, Claudia?" she snaps. "Edward wishes he could be in the same league as James." Sensing Rory's rising anger, Claudia shrugs helplessly in submission.
"So, where'd you meet him?" Amy questions, hoping to steer Rory back to a better mood.
"We ran into one another earlier," Rory reveals. She leans her upper body farther inside of the car, all traces of irritation gone. "James is un-believable, you guys. He's - like - the whole package. Tall. Good-looking. Edgy. He's a ten in my book. And with a face and body like that, I don't think I'll ever be able to look at another guy the same again."
"Hmm. Sounds like you've fallen hard real quick," Claudia remarks.
"You bet your ass I have." A superior smirk slips up her face. "He keeps staring at my neck and licking his lips, like he can't wait to get me alone." The three girls laugh softly together. "So, if you haven't guessed already, I won't be able to hang out like we planned."
"Are you sure?"
"Most definitely," Rory responds. "You guys go on ahead to the beach. Trust me, I don't mind. I've been dreaming of meeting a guy like this for ages. I'm not about to pass the opportunity up."
"O-K," Claudia drawls out hesitantly. She glances at James once again. "But I don't think your folks are gonna like this guy too much. He doesn't exactly look like the boy-next-door type."
Huffing a dismissive laugh, Rory shakes her head. "Whatever. Like I care what they think. James is rich, can afford to travel anywhere he wants, AND doesn't treat me like shit. He's a million times better than they are."
With a quick goodbye, Rory waves a hand as her friends drive away. Once the taillights are no longer visible, she rotates around to find James standing in the exact spot she left him. She makes sure to walk back with an exaggerated sway of her hips. The technique is something she learned long ago to gain the attention of the opposite sex. It always works. The moment she returns to him, an arm snakes possessively around her waist and draws her to his side. Her body shivers with delight.
"I have a surprise for you," James says in her ear.
"You do?"
"Yes. There's a stream flowing nearby - just a few minutes walk from here. I think you would like to see it with me. There won't be a soul around to disturb us."
Rory sighs dreamily, loving how he's already planned ahead. "That sounds awesome."
As the two of them walk down the trail behind the rock crushing plant, James' grip never loosens from her waist. The thick forest cover above their heads allows minimal light to shine through. Rory walks along disoriented, unable to make out any details of their surroundings. Nevertheless, James holds on to her tight and guides her expertly down the twisting path with no problem whatsoever.
Rory hears the bubbling of the stream before she sees it. At the end of the trail, she leaves the dark forest behind and another world opens before her eyes. The setting is as picturesque as an illustration in a fairytale book. Moon beams reflect off the rippling water of the stream, bathing everything in a blue, otherworldly glow. A few huge boulders look to have been placed near the water by design. It's blissfully silent and romantic, a far cry from the racket she heard at home earlier. There's no houses. No nearby streets. No nosy neighbors. No cars filled with judgemental friends. And, best of all, absolutely zero parents who seem to only talk to one another when there's a fight in progress.
This is the perfect make out spot, Rory decides.
James leads her to a fallen tree and invites her to use it as a sofa. Rory drops her purse on the pebble-strewn ground and sits down, taking care to cross one leg over the other. James takes a seat as well and turns his entire body towards her. His upper torso bends until his nose is positioned inches away from the hollow of Rory's throat. He makes it no secret that he is inhaling the air above her skin.
"Ahh," he hums in what can only be described as ecstasy. "Cherry bark...and kumquats, I think. Not as nice as freesia, but it'll do for the time being."
Rory jerks her head back to look at him full in the face, her forehead wrinkled in confusion. "Kumquats? What the fuck is that? I'll have you know that I'm wearing Yves Saint Laurent. That shit's $30 dollars an ounce!"
James' explosive laughter bounces off the rocks scattered around them. His black, hungry eyes look at Rory with something close to admiration. "Yes. It'll do just fine," he murmurs with a smirk. The tip of his glistening tongue glides over his bottom lip as he leans in close once again. "You have a lovely neck. You don't mind if I get a little taste, do you?"
Rory picks her smile back up from where she left it. Never has anyone looked at her with such obvious want. "You go right on ahead," she agrees.
As soon as his cool mouth makes contact with the base of her throat, every nerve ending in her body rejoices. Hard, cold fingers lock around one of her wrists like handcuffs, as if to hold her in place. She has a small urge to laugh. As if she'd ever want to get away from that talented mouth.
James soon lavishes his attention to the side of her neck, the move accompanied by a tiny, sharp sting. It hurts a little, but the delicious sucking sensation which immediately follows overrides any complaint she may have wanted to voice. Rory imagines the huge hickey she'll need to conceal from her friends and parents tomorrow, the skin red and tender from his intense kiss. Still, she dares not tell him to stop what he's doing. It feels incredible. Spots form in front of her eyes as the suction on her skin steadily increases, creating a dizzying effect no other guy has ever produced within her.
A soft, euphoric smile graces her face. Before the blackness overtakes her completely, she forms one final thought.
James knows exactly what he's doing.
00000000000000000000
A/N- OK. This was A LOT different than the other chapters. Where's the fun? Where's the romance? Where's the awkward '80s dance moves we love to mock? Well, fear not, my friends. All of that and more will be coming soon.
Oh. And... um...HEA, of course. Err, eventually.
Next Chapter- We're back to Edward's pov again. Thanks to his gift, we get a tiny glimpse into James' head (yikes). A secret at the Cullen home will be exposed. And, with trouble brewing in Forks, Edward is forced to take on a new role.
Thanks for reading! :-)