A/N: OKAY ALL. I had a really hard time with this chapter, but in the end I'm extremely happy with how it turned out. I have to thank the lovely burnthebook for helping me not only write Jasper in this chapter (who knew accents were so hard to write without overdoing them?!), but also for letting me rant and complain and whine through PM about how much trouble this chapter was giving me. And for telling me really entertaining stories and just being precious in general. xx I appreciate you!
Anyways, enough of my blabbing. Enjoy!
Indiana.
Alice Cullen is small and dainty, and reminds me more of a fairy than a vampire. There's a sparkle in her eyes, even when they're empty because she's looking, and Paul tells me she's always looking.
She can see the future.
It's different from the way Veda seems to know things.
Alice can search for them, or they can come to her. And on what was otherwise a perfectly good morning, Malcolm's came to her.
He's beginning his search.
I knew he would look for me. I assumed he already had been from the time I left New York, but he hadn't in earnest. Now that we know for certain that he is, it means we have to initiate the plan, and I'm nowhere near ready.
Six pairs of golden eyes peer back at me from across the room.
One strong, warm arm wraps around my shoulders. Protecting me. Comforting me.
I feel safe.
In my mind, I know that I probably shouldn't, but I do, and I don't know if it's real or artificial. Jasper has that focused look on his face, so maybe it's him. He seems at ease. Maybe it's rubbing off on me. And while I was confused and frightened by the artificial mood in the room before, today I'm thankful for it.
It makes hard things easier to be at peace with. It gives us all a clear, level-headed state of mind.
We have to focus on what's in front of us and the fact that there is a gaping hole in the future.
Alice saw Malcolm coming to Washington, but then he disappeared into nothingness. It was explained to me that with the wolves involved, it creates a blind spot in her vision. Some kind of biological block. And because of this blind spot, she can't see Josie or I, which means the outcome of his trip to Washington is unseen.
No one knows how this story ends.
But we could.
Carlisle manages to have warmth in his voice when he says, "If you want to have the upper hand, we have to open up Alice's sight."
Can it be done? How?
Edward looks at me, and it draws Bella's attention. They are so in tune they move as one organism. "Alice couldn't see my future any time I was with Jacob," Bella explains. "I think the only option is for you and Josie to spend time away from the pack."
"Unprotected?" Paul asks, and I'm once again thankful for the calm atmosphere, otherwise he'd be filled with rage at the mere thought.
Bella shakes her head. "With us."
Sam is contemplating in his seat on the couch, arms folded across his chest. I can see the wheels turning in his eyes as he pieces things together to formulate a plan. Edward watches him as well, listening in silence. He doesn't like whatever he's hearing. I can tell by the slightest shift in his movement. There's an agitation to it that I'm able to pick up on, even though I can't feel it.
His eyes move to me and I wonder what it is that he heard.
"For how long?" Sam finally asks.
Alice looks at Carlisle with uncertainty. "As long as it takes..."
Carlisle smiles at her and then looks at Sam. "Theoretically, once there is a mutual decision on both ends to separate with no immediate plans to reunite, Alice should be able to look into Josie and Indiana's futures."
Josie takes a shaky breath next to me, and out of the corner of my eye I see her nod. "I think we should," she agrees, sitting up and turning to me. "If we can spend a few days telling ourselves we won't go back to La Push, she should be able to see everything she needs."
I hate the thought. I hate every aspect of this plan, but it's all we've got.
The Cullen's are right.
Paul pulls me closer. I look at him and into his soft eyes and I can see the sadness lingering there. I don't feel it, but I can see it. The sadness upon his realization that the only way to protect me right now is to allow someone else to do it.
I swallow. "I can't stand the thought of not knowing the outcome if we have the option to," I tell him. Neither of us like it – no one in the room does – but we all know that it's necessary.
We have to do this.
"Do we stay here?" Josie asks, linking her arm through mine.
"It may be more comfortable for everyone if we moved to common ground," Carlisle replies.
Bella chimes in a moment later. "Charlie and Sue are going on a fishing trip next week," she says. "I can offer to housesit. In town, in Forks."
The idea of staying in Forks, though still near vampires, feels safer than staying at a house buried deep in the trees.
"Next week, then?" I ask, my voice weak.
Alice gives me a sympathetic look while Carlisle nods softly.
"On one condition," Sam interjects. "Half of your group moves to a location where we can watch them twenty-four seven. If anything happens to the girls, we kill them."
Oh. That must've been what Edward heard.
Paul shoots me an amused look out of the corner of his eye, and I try my hardest not to smile. He is so very predictable, and so very mine.
"To show good faith, I agree," Carlisle says, nodding. "Though I highly recommend Alice remain with the girls."
"And Jasper with me," Alice adds. "Just the two of us. I'm sure the smaller the number of vampires, the better everyone will feel."
She's not wrong.
Edward smirks at my thought.
Even though he's nosey, his reactions are entertaining.
"One week, then," Sam nods, standing up to shake Carlisle's hand.
Carlisle nods as well. "One week."
One week.
One week is all I have before we have to trust the word of vampires and isolate ourselves from the pack. From the people that have done nothing but protect and love me for months now. From the people that welcomed me so warmly into their lives as if I've always had a place there.
And one week is all I have before we find out what happens. Before we find out the beginning, or the end of my story.
One week isn't enough time to potentially have to say goodbye.
One week later. Day one.
It's only fitting that there be a storm today.
I hug my bag to my chest and take a deep breath as I watch the water pound against the windshield.
One week wasn't long enough.
Paul and I spent it tangled in each other's bodies, making love for hours and fucking our fears out until we could barely stay awake. Then, we did it all over again. For seven days.
My body is sore and exhausted, and there's a heaviness in my heart.
I know I'll see Paul shortly. I'll see Paul and Embry, and Sam and Emily and the babies. I'll see Leah and Jesse. I'll see Malachi and his brothers. Collin and Brady. The twins. Jared and Kim.
But will I get to meet their baby?
Will these next few days confirm whether or not I'll have the next eight months with my family in La Push? Will we even make it to Christmas, right around the corner?
The unknown is the hard part.
What will Alice see?
Will we win? Or will we lose?
Paul slows the car down and stops in front of a modest, white house. I swallow and stare out of the window, unmoving. Josie and Embry are quiet in the back seat. The rest of the pack is circling a cabin out in the woods where Carlisle, Esme, and Bella are waiting. They're the glue that holds the Cullen clan together, so Sam found it only fair that they be the ones held for accountability.
Oddly enough, while Carlisle is the one I trust the most, I'm not afraid of being alone with Alice and Jasper.
Maybe I'm becoming desensitized, or maybe it's because the return of my red-eyed demon is on the horizon, and no one worries me more than him.
None of us say anything for the next five minutes.
When Alice finally opens the door and peers out at us, I worry that one might be closing somewhere else in this dimension.
I turn my head to look at Paul, and the corner of one side of his mouth turns up. Just enough that I know it's not real, and that he's just trying to reassure me. I appreciate it, even though it makes me miss him even more.
"It'll only be a day or two," Josie says firmly, as if she's trying to convince the universe to follow her lead. "And nothing's going to happen. She's going to see that everything turns out fine."
I hope so.
The four of us exit the car and run inside, getting half-drenched in the process. Alice moves into the living room and sits down next to Jasper, who has an old war movie playing on TV. Paul looks them over, sighs heavily, then turns and pulls me into his arms.
"I love you," he mumbles into my hair. "I've got you. No matter what."
My arms wrap tightly around his waist and our bodies melt together. I let my eyes close and inhale deeply, his scent swirling in my lungs as his hands cradle my head against his chest.
Visions of the last week start to flood my mind. His body, slick with sweat, gliding effortlessly over mine. His coarse hands ghosting over my stomach, my breasts, up to my neck and into my hair. The feeling of his lips on mine – on my skin. His scent so strong with my face buried in his neck, his throat vibrating with a deep groan.
I can't live without him.
If something happens to him, I'll never forgive myself.
Humming low in his chest, he reaches back and pulls his shirt over his head, pressing it into my hands for me to keep as he gives me a warm kiss. "I'll see you soon," he says. "I promise."
"Okay," I whisper. "See you soon."
Alice stands up as Paul and Embry turn to leave. "They're safe, I promise. And honestly, compared to Bella, these two smell like dogs." She then turns to me and says, "No offense," with a smile.
Paul snorts. "You're not half bad, I guess," he tells her. "It's your brother who's annoying as fuck."
Jasper laughs from his spot on the couch. "Hate to say it, but I agree."
We all laugh a little but it's gone as quickly as it came, because it's time for them to leave so we can learn our fate.
Paul kisses me deeply one last time, then kisses my cheeks and my forehead before turning and disappearing through the front door with Embry right behind him.
I should feel overwhelming sadness, but I don't. And for the first time in the presence of vampires, the hair on the back of my neck doesn't rise. My pulse doesn't quicken. I don't feel like I need to flee.
Cocking an eyebrow, I glance at Jasper. "Hey, are you doing that thing again?"
He smiles, eyes glued to the TV. "Always, ma'am."
I smile a little and Josie walks over and lays her head on my shoulder. It feels kind of weird being just the two of us again, but I'm glad I don't have to stay here alone.
"There's two bedrooms," Alice says, drawing our attention. "Both upstairs. I figured you'd probably rather sleep in Bella's old room than in Charlie's."
"Is Bella's taste in linens as bad as her taste in clothes?" Josie asks with a smirk, and Alice's tinkling laughter somehow warms my heart a little.
Josie and I wander up the stairs to put our things down. Bella's old bedroom looks like it's been kept exactly the same since she was a kid. The walls are a light, pastel green, and the bed is dressed with a purple – almost pink – comforter with a brown floral-vine design. There's artwork all over the walls and knickknacks on the shelves.
It's not bad. Kind of homey, actually.
"I'm surprised Sue hasn't redone this room," Josie mumbles as she tosses her backpack onto the bed. Something in the bag clanks together noisily, and she winces. It sounds suspiciously like bottles of alcohol.
I choose to not comment on it and set my bag down on the desk chair, tucking Paul's shirt under my neck in my fists. "What do you mean?"
"Sue and Charlie have been married for years now. She only keeps the house on the rez because it's been in their family pretty much forever. And Seth still lives there."
I make a face. "Sue's remarried?" I ask.
Josie laughs. "To Forks' Chief of police," she replies. "And, strictly on the down low, Charlie Swan is a babe."
"Josie!" I squeal.
"Seriously! Look at the picture behind you."
I glance over my shoulder at the small collage of photographs pinned into a corkboard on the wall. There's one of Bella and a man with a dark mustache – neither really smiling, but the resemblance is clear. He's wearing a police jacket and looks very kind.
And Josie is right. He's pretty attractive.
But I'll never admit it to her. "Does he know Bella's a vampire?"
Josie falls onto the bed next to her backpack and kicks her boots off. "He's gotta know something is up with her. I mean, her daughter went from newborn to full grown adult in a matter of years. And Bella suddenly isn't obnoxiously clumsy anymore."
I join her on the bed and lay back, staring up at the ceiling with my hands on my stomach and Paul's shirt draped across my neck. "If you had the chance to live forever, would you?" I ask her.
She sighs. "I don't know," she replies honestly. "It might be cool, but having to watch everyone around you grow old and die without you…"
"Yeah…"
We lay like that for a few hours, just talking under the sound of the pouring rain. It's been a long time since she and I have really just talked. It used to be that we had nothing else to do but talk to each other. It feels like forever ago, but in reality it was just months.
Months.
That's it.
That's all that it's been since we were locked in that basement, wondering if we'd ever get to leave it.
It's crazy how much has happened since then.
When it starts to get dark outside, there's a knock on the bedroom door and Alice pokes her head inside cautiously. "Are either of you hungry? I can order Chinese?"
"Chinese sounds delicious," Josie sings, jumping up and pulling me to my feet.
I leave Paul's shirt on one of the pillows and follow her downstairs.
Alice orders Chinese food and in the meantime, while waiting for it to be delivered, produces a plastic tote filled with what appears to be nail polish and other self-care items. She sets it on the kitchen table. "Okay, I have nail polish, facemasks, hair masks—"
"And I have wine!" Josie interrupts, dashing upstairs and returning with her backpack.
I knew I heard the clanking of alcohol bottles.
"What I wouldn't give to actually enjoy a nice glass of wine," Alice says, sighing longingly while looking at the bottle of wine.
As Josie pours the white wine into two drinking glasses, I give Alice a curious look and cock my head to the side. "You can't drink wine?"
She shakes her head. "I mean, I can, but I'd have to throw it up later," she replies casually, rolling her eyes.
My throat instantly burns at the thought.
"It's okay, Indie's good at the whole 'throwing alcohol up later' thing, too," Josie jokes.
I shoot her a playful glare while she pulls her socks off and starts rolling up her jeans, effectively ignoring me. I follow her lead, removing my socks and glancing down at the chipping red polish on my toes, remembering how just last week Paul helped me paint them. Remembering the focused look on his face while his carpenter hands performed such a careful task without error.
The doorbell rings just as I reach for a bottle of dark purple polish, and Alice, in a literal flash, is at the front door paying the delivery man and then back in the kitchen with the food.
My stomach growls involuntarily and I stand up to help get plates and silverware. I almost grab four, but then sheepishly put two back.
"You know," Alice says as Josie and I work our way through our meals. "I painted Natalie Portman's nails once."
"Shut up," Josie's eyes widen and her lips split into a smile.
Alice smiles back and nods. "I know, totally beneath me, right? But I was working my way up in celebrity fashion and the opportunity presented itself."
While I was fairly sheltered from the outside world after a certain point in my life, I do know who Natalie Portman is because of her roll in Black Swan. "We did a rendition of Black Swan at the Lincoln Center," I tell them. "My ballet studio. I danced the lead."
"Now you shut up!" Josie nudges me and pours more wine into her glass. "Is there a video of it somewhere?"
"I'm sure there is," I reply.
Alice disappears again in a blur and returns with a small laptop. "I made Charlie get Wi-Fi once upon a time. You wouldn't believe how difficult it is to get that man to conform," she mumbles, shaking her head as she types into the keyboard.
I swallow the lump in my throat and chase it with a sip of wine. I miss dancing, but it's also the reason Malcolm picked me in the first place, so I'm a little hesitant to revisit it.
"I found it!" Alice chirps with excitement, moving next to Josie and I with her laptop.
It's surreal watching the video.
I'm able to put myself right back in my own shoes, remembering the low murmur as the audience settled down, remembering when the spotlight hit me and remembering the first step I took. I'm jealous of the girl in the video – of myself. It was back during a time when I had a little more freedom. When I had passion for something. Now, I'm almost afraid to even look at a pair of pointe shoes, let alone dance ballet, but I still crave it so bad.
I had a small taste of it, back at Sam and Emily's wedding, when Paul twirled me around on the dance floor. I can't help but smile to myself a little at the thought, wondering if he's naturally that good of a dancer or if he prepared for it simply to wow me.
Josie leans against me and smiles when I glance at her. The food and wine sit forgotten as we watch the figures dance across the laptop screen until the stage goes dark and the audience starts roaring.
A swell of pride inflates my chest. It was a spectacular performance.
"That was beautiful," Alice says, voice soft and eyes sparkling.
Josie's arm wraps around my shoulders and she squeezes me tightly before reaching for her wine again. "You shouldn't settle for working at the coffee shop," she tells me. "You should be doing something with dance. Teaching kids, or even performing somewhere."
In all honesty, I don't know why Tiffany has even let me keep my job at this point when I've been so flaky the last few weeks. It's not my first choice of careers, but I don't think I can ever dance again, so it's all I've got. "That would be nice," I smile slightly. Nice, but impossible.
We finish our meals and finish painting our nails while Alice scrolls through video after video of my performances, then famous performances once we've watched all of mine. It sparks both joy and envy in my heart.
Oh, how my life has changed since those early days.
My mind is still dancing when Josie and I crawl into bed a few hours later. We naturally gravitate to one another, a combination of old habit and of the need for comfort.
I attempt sleep, but nothing comes. The smell of Paul's shirt helps soothe me a little, but it's not enough to allow me to fully relax and let sleep come. I listen to the soft noises of Josie's breathing and stare at the ceiling, watching it light up and go dark again as cars pass by outside.
Every fiber of my being misses Paul.
If I could even just hear his voice right now, I'd feel better, but Carlisle thought it may set things back if we have contact with each other. He's probably right, because if I heard his voice right now I'd want to go to him, or I'd ask him to come to me. We have to do this right if we want it to work.
It'll only hurt for a moment.
Day two.
The skies outside don't lighten up until about 7:30 AM.
My eyes feel like sandpaper when I blink, and my body feels even heavier than it did yesterday. The endless hours of lovemaking and rough sex the last week are finally weighing on me now that I've given my body more than a few hours to rest.
Josie is still completely passed out next to me, on her stomach with her cheek smooshed into her pillow. I giggle a little bit and carefully move out of bed to use the restroom.
Grabbing my toiletry bag, I decide to take a quick shower to freshen up and hopefully soothe my sore muscles. The steaming hot water clears my senses as I run shampoo and conditioner through my hair and brush my teeth.
Josie is awake when I emerge twenty minutes later, but just barely. She cracks an eye at me as I start to get dressed, then laughs. "It's been a while since I've seen you naked. Looks like Paul's still a fucking animal," she smirks.
I throw my towel at her and pull on yoga pants and a turtleneck sweater over the light bruises on my neck and torso. "You should see him," I reply snootily, turning my nose up at her. "I'm anemic, so I bruise easily."
She holds her hands up defensively. "I'm not judging. There was no end to the bruising and bite marks after Embry told me about the imprint," her eyebrows wiggle as she pushes herself up and out of bed.
We both laugh and I force a brush through my tangled hair before pulling it up into a tight bun.
The day goes by uneventfully. We do facemasks with Alice – who really only does them for the relaxation of it – and play a lot of card games. We eat soup for lunch and chicken salad for dinner, and Josie works her way through the remaining bottle and a half of wine before falling asleep on the couch at 11:00 PM.
And Alice still hasn't seen anything.
I start to worry that maybe this is going to take longer than we really anticipated, and it feels even longer because I can't sleep. There's this nagging feeling in the back of my mind, as I watch the rain drench the street from the living room window, that Malcolm's out there, hidden and staring back at me.
He's not, of course – Alice and Jasper would know – but it still feels like it.
Sometimes I think that even if he were to be destroyed, I still might feel like this forever. Always watching. Always waiting. Always expecting him to turn up.
"I know that feelin'," a voice says behind me.
I jump a little and look over my shoulder at Jasper as he lays a blanket over Josie's sleeping form. Alice appears next to him a second later and gently moves her arms under Josie. "I'll take her upstairs to sleep."
Normally I might have not let her, but I think Josie and I have crossed a bridge with her. Alice is a good person.
"It's hard," Jasper continues as they disappear up the stairs. "Watching out the window and wonderin' if they'll show up again. Knowing they could at any time and you can't do anything to stop them."
Nodding slowly, I release the breath lodged in my throat and look back out at the street. We've spent a lot of time talking with Alice these last two days, but not a lot of time with Jasper. I wonder about him and the hint of southern twang in his voice. I'm intrigued by him, maybe because he's kind of like me in a way.
"You know," I laugh quietly, "it's kind of funny feeling you feel what I'm feeling."
I hear him smirk. "Well if that ain't a tongue twister."
He appears next to me with a chair from the kitchen and sets it by the window, taking a seat and folding his arms across the windowsill. The reflection of the rain on the glass paints dots over his face and arms – over the bite marks covering his porcelain skin.
My lips press into a thin line and I avert my eyes. "So, what's your story, then?" I ask warily.
He hums. "A long one."
"Mine, too."
"How'd you end up meeting him?"
What a loaded question. I shake my head a little and fiddle with the sleeves of my sweater, deciding to give him the short version. "He was just always there."
Jasper looks up at me for a moment before looking back out the window, resting his chin on his arms. "I was in the Confederate Army," he tells me. "Met Maria couple years later… She forced me into this life – forced me into buildin' her an army."
I feel my brows tense. "An army? Of… vampires?"
He nods. "Problem is, she didn't want to let any of them go once she had no use for them anymore. Made me dispose of them and… and I could feel it all."
My stomach sinks, a twinge of pain shooting through my gut. I can't even imagine what he must've felt. Feeling someone's heartache and sadness is one thing, but feeling what someone's experiencing while dying – while being killed…?
"How many were there?"
"Hundreds."
I inhale sharply. How do you console someone after something like that?
"After I left her, I wondered how many times she might try and find me," his voice sounds far off, like he's back in that place again. "Caught up to me once. Never again, but the fear was always kinda there."
For a moment, I'm at a loss for words. Malcolm was horrible. Did horrible things in front of me, said and did horrible things to me, but he never made me kill someone. My brain can't even comprehend the amount of pain Jasper must've felt.
He picks up on my emotions and sits up straight again. "Just because she made me kill people doesn't mean the way you feel about what happened to you is," he murmurs. "What'd he do to you?"
This time, Jasper doesn't control anything. He lets my feelings come freely without trying to manipulate them. Once I start, I can't stop until I'm crying softly and everything's been said. Everything's been confessed. It's not all locked inside of me anymore, but laid out on the table for someone to see.
There are things I kept from Josie.
Things I kept from Sam when I first came to La Push.
Things I've never told anyone, and never plan to tell anyone else. Other people might not understand, but Jasper does, because he's gone through similar things as I have.
He sends me up to bed after I'm all cried out. Alice smiles at me softly as I pass her, having waited upstairs while Jasper and I talked. I'm sure she heard everything, but it's okay. She accepts Jasper for who he is after everything he was forced to do, so I know there's no judgement of what she might've heard.
I crawl into bed next to Josie and she turns into me, sleepily patting my face before falling still again. My best friend. My light in what was otherwise a dark tunnel back in New York. I'm still so very thankful for her every day of my life for what she did for me.
My tired, swollen eyes eventually allow themselves to shut.
I don't know how much later, but after some time a distant, rhythmic beeping pulls me from sleep.
It sounds familiar, and for a second I refuse to open my eyes, but when I do it confirms I'm dreaming, and a panic settles in my chest.
I'm back in the hospital.
The beeping is my heart rate monitor, tethered to my finger.
The lights are bright. No one is here but Carlisle, wearing his lab coat and scribbling something on his clipboard.
I can't even talk. I try to, but nothing comes out except a strangled breath.
Carlisle looks at me, and then the door behind him opens up.
I know who it is before he even walks into the room, and I lay back in defeat. I can't do anything but let it happen.
"Well," Malcolm says, closing the door behind himself, "this is an unexpected turn of events."
Carlisle looks at me and then back at Malcolm, setting the clipboard face down on the counter. "Malcolm," he replies, voice light. "It's nice to see you."
I want to scream at him to do something. But like always, Malcolm is in control of this dream, not me. Looking desperately around the room for something I can use to wake myself up, hopelessness settles in my stomach. There's nothing. Maybe if I had time to sift through the cabinets and drawers, but Malcolm would never let me. Not after my stunt in the last dream.
"It's good to see you too, Carlisle," Malcolm nods, eyes shifting to me. "And you, Indiana."
Wish I could say the same.
"It looks like we might have some things to talk about," Carlisle clasps his hands together behind his back and rolls his shoulders.
"It sure does."
I watch them as they stare at each other, and out of the corner of my eye I see Carlisle drop a syringe from his sleeve into his hand. I force myself not to look directly at it, because if I do Malcolm will notice and get to it first, whatever it is.
Is it for me? Or is it for Malcolm?
"Funny that you two would meet," Malcolm says, leaning back against the door. "What are the chances?"
Carlisle doesn't respond.
I try my voice again. "I'll come to you," I offer, and the words come out crystal clear. It draws his eyes back to me.
"That you will, whether you like it or not."
"But I don't want you to come here first."
I know it's not our plan, but this caught me off-guard. The words just came out. Carlisle thankfully doesn't acknowledge what I've said, and I know I'll have to explain to everyone that I fucked it up, but for now I have to improvise.
He laughs, his chin jerking to the side agitatedly. "Well we both know you don't get a choice here," he replies.
"They'll tell the Volturi," I threaten, and if Malcolm had blood in his veins the look on his face says he would probably go pale right now. "That not only one, but two humans escaped knowing about what you are."
He doesn't say anything for a moment, just stares back at me with narrowed eyes before standing up straight. "That'll only prompt the Volturi to come and kill the both of you first," he replies smoothly. "And then probably the whole Cullen clan, with their rebellious behavior and all, hiding two fugitive humans."
It's a scare tactic. While it's probably true that the Volturi would come for us, I think he's as unprepared with his words as I am. The Volturi have no idea who Josie or I are. Malcolm wouldn't tell them about us, because he'd likely be killed immediately, and if anything the Cullen's could provide fake names, or tell them that they already killed us.
"You're already a joke to the Volturi anyway," I push further. "They don't care about you. They could kill you and keep your fifty other women."
Malcolm sneers and then laughs loudly. "So, you told her about the others," he says to Carlisle, nodding slowly. "You know how jealous women can get."
It makes me nauseous. This seems never ending. I have to come up with a way to end this conversation so I can prepare better.
"Fine," I reply quietly. "Come get me."
His eyebrow cocks and he stops nodding, eyeing me warily. "Why the change of heart?"
"You said I don't have a choice. Come, then."
He stares at me harder. "You're hiding something."
My heart rate increases, the beeping of the monitor speeding up. Busted. So then, I decide to fuck with him. "But what could it be?"
I'd be lying if I said I didn't take pleasure in the very small, almost unnoticeable twitch of his mouth. He's mad, but now I've instilled doubt in his mind. If anything, it will buy us a little more time.
Without another word, he turns and slams the door shut behind himself.
Carlisle turns to me, uncapping the syringe and grabbing my arm, stabbing the needle into my vein.
My eyes flutter open to the bleary red letters on the bedside clock; 3:00 AM. The Witching Hour.
I hear Alice and Jasper talking in hushed voices downstairs, then the buzzing of my phone buried deep in my bag. I left it there so I wouldn't be tempted, but I guess I forgot to put it on silent. Against my better judgement, I slide out of bed and dig it out, seeing Paul's name on the screen.
"Hello?"
"Alice just called. He's not coming anymore. I'm coming to get you."
Tears spring to my eyes.
It worked, even if just for now.
Half asleep and curled under Paul's arm in the Cullen's living room an hour later, both Carlisle and Sam face me with intense eyes as I tell them everything Malcolm and I said to each other in my dream.
Alice said his future suddenly opened back up, and while mine and Josie's didn't, Malcolm's showed that he was no longer coming to Washington. Instead, he planned a trip for Volterra, but thankfully as of now has no plans of telling the Volturi what's going on.
"I think you bought us some time," Carlisle nods, smiling softly.
Paul kisses the side of my head and tightens his arm around me.
Some time.
But how much?
A/N: How's everyone feel? Did you like it? Did you hate it? Do you hate me? Jk. Thank you as always for reading! If you have a moment to leave me a review, I'd love it. If not, I still love you :) xx!