BPOV
"Charlotte, my seams are crooked," I whined as the girl standing next to me rolled her eyes and crouched behind me.
"Golly, Isabella! Are you evah gonna get these right?" she teases me as she helps to straighten the seams on my pantyhose as best as possible.
Charlotte is a pretty girl with pale yellow hair and porcelain skin. Her green eyes shine with laughter as she stands and fluffs her hair.
She's just his type.
"You got plans tonight?" I look briefly at her reflection in the mirror we share in the back room of the club, and I notice she falters slightly as she's reapplying her rouge. She grabs a tissue and wipes off her fingers before answering me.
"Garrett gave me the icy mitt!" she cries suddenly, but I don't see any actual tears. She's a bit dramatic, and I wonder if that's the reason why he got rid of her. I jump up and begin to console her. I need information, and Charlotte can give it to me. She's such a Dumb Dora, but she can repeat things like a parrot.
She tells me about how he took her out a couple nights ago after he closed down the club. How he tried to get her into the back seat of his Buick. Charlotte might be an idiot, but she isn't loose. She tells me about how he tried to force her, and she tried to fight back, clawing, scratching, and kicking.
She tells me how she covered the shiner on her face, and how he dumped her on the side of the road, and she had to walk four miles home. Everything about this sounds like what the other girls said, at least the ones who would speak to me and the ones who hadn't disappeared.
Garrett ran the biggest speakeasy out here on Coney Island. He opened it ten months ago and had gone through three times as many cigarette girls in that time. He had mob ties and a short temper when it came to girls.
He was disgusting, and when I passed him on the boardwalk a few weeks ago, I felt it instantly.
He was the one.
Emmett worked at the club with me and disagreed that Garrett could be the one. I think he sort of idolized him for his entrepreneurial spirit; he'd learn.
I left Charlotte to clean up, grabbed my tray, and went to the bar. Emmett was there polishing glasses and cringed when he saw me coming.
"Aw, hell, Isabella. What's that look for?" he asked as he set down the glass and rag. He began handing me things for my tray.
"He knocked Charlotte around the other night," I say quietly and organize the cigars, cigarettes, and chewing tobacco on my tray, along with candies and mints.
I heard his sigh, and when I looked back up, he had set his lips into a thin line. Emmett may have thought Garrett was all right, but he would never approve of harming women; it just wasn't in his nature.
"What are you going to do? You aren't his type," Emmett reminds me, and I shake my head.
"I'll have to make myself his type."
Hera, in her infinite wisdom and power, had imbued me with certain ... charms to use at my disposal to carry out my work—if you could even call it that, but the fact remained … if I needed to be blonde, I could make myself appear blonde. If I needed doe eyes, or more ample cleavage, taller or shorter, you name it, and I can do it.
The next time Garrett saw me, I'd be exactly what he was looking for.
Hours later, my feet were killing me, and I had to remove several hands from my backside. I'd been acting coy with him, and he seemed to be eating it up. He was paying more attention to me than any of the other girls, and Emmett had told me at one point that Garrett had asked about me.
I expected him to ask me out after we closed the club; turns out, I didn't have to wait that long.
"I can't seem to figure you out, Isabella," Garrett says as he leans against the bar as I refill my tray. "You're such a doll; how'd you end up here?"
"A girl's gotta make a living, right?" I ask with a shrug, "You were looking for pretty girls. I didn't think I'd get the job, but here I am."
"Well, it's not like you were a ragamuffin. You're bona fide, Isabella." He tells me this as he sidles up closer to me at the bar. He gently grabs my wrist and brings my hand to his mouth where he presses a kiss against my palm.
"Whaddya say we get out of here and get a bite?" he asks, and I try not to show the discomfort I'm feeling.
It's been so long since I've felt afraid, but I'm feeling it right now. The girls who hadn't disappeared came back with broken bones, black eyes, and bruises. Then there were the girls who just never came back. Who really knows what happened to them.
"I have to work, boss man. Why don't you come find me later?" I offer as I move to walk away. I need to collect myself. The evil absolutely rolls off him in waves.
"Go change now. You're done for tonight," Garrett says with a finality that I don't dare question.
I nod and deposit my tray with Emmett, who looks concerned. We're playing brother and sister these days, so I take a moment to fill him in.
"If I'm not back by dawn, look for me. He can't kill me, but he can hurt me," I whisper as I kiss his cheek and run to the back to change. Emmett and I have been together for a couple turns now, but we're still not entirely comfortable with each other. I can only hope he looks out for me tonight.
My hands are shaking, and I tear my stockings as I take them off. I sit and wipe off a majority of the makeup I'm wearing and reapply some rouge and finger-comb my hair. When I'm out of my costume and in my skirt and blouse, I head back out to the hallway that will lead me to the floor of the club. I stop in my tracks when I see Garrett waiting for me.
"We'll sneak out the back," he says and grabs my hand to drag me out of the back door.
It's late and the air is humid. We're walking down the boardwalk, and Garrett is bragging about how the feds haven't found out about his operation, how smart he is, and how he never lets anyone tell him no.
I know the fear I'm feeling is unfounded. I'm stronger and faster than him, but my gut tells me I'm no match for him. I know I'm in trouble when Garrett leads me down a dark alley.
"You're real pretty, Isabella," he says as he backs me against the wall. "You're quiet too; I like that the most." His breath is hot, and I can smell the whiskey he drank earlier at the club.
His hands rub up my arms, and he cups my cheeks as he leans in to press his lips to mine.
This is the part I can't play. It brings me back to the ship, to that sailor … It brings me back to my death and rebirth.
I squirm and struggle against him as he roughly slams me against the wall in that darkened alley. One hand has my wrists locked above my head while the other searches for the hem of my skirt and the prize he wants underneath it.
A strangled scream escapes me and he sneers."I thought you were quiet, Isabella. If you don't shut your mouth, I'll have to shut it for you," he whispers in my ear, but it's forceful and mean.
"Let me go, Garrett! I don't want this!" I yell and struggle against him. He backs away slightly, and I feel as if somehow I've gotten through to him.
But then I see his hand come up, and I feel the sharp sting of the slap across my face.
I wake drenched in a pool of sweat. I'm panting like a dog in summer, but I'm cold and shivering. I sit up cautiously and swing my legs over the side of my bed.
I'm safe. I'm in my own apartment. The dream was just a memory from ninety years ago.
I find my feet, walk to my bathroom, and take a good look in the mirror. I've got dark circles under my eyes, and my hair is half matted to my face and half like a wild bird's nest. I turn on the shower and strip. I grab my toothbrush and get inside. The hot water is soothing, and I feel like my muscles are screaming out their relief.
I've had the dreams before, but not like this. Garrett was my first victim who wasn't a descendant from the ship, and the first kill I couldn't remember.
Emmett had found me bloody and bruised on the beach, but Garrett was nowhere to be found. I always just assumed he met the same fate as the rest of them, but somehow, Emmett knew that all the blood on my body wasn't just from me. I never figured out what happened, but Emmett told me a few months later that a body roughly matching his description turned up.
It had been mutilated; the teeth had been removed violently, and the fingertips looked as if they had been chewed off. The skin had been hacked into, but they couldn't determine the type of weapon. However, the most gruesome discovery had been his penis stuffed inside his mouth.
Emmett asked me what had happened, and I told him everything I could remember. I just couldn't remember if he had raped me. I didn't remember killing him. After he slapped me … there was nothing.
I shake my head and wash away the sweat and focus on brushing my teeth. I needed a clear head; Emmett and I were going to nail down our plan for when we meet with Hera. I hadn't spoken to Emmett for a few days, and I was surprised not to find him in my apartment when I exited my room after getting dressed.
I went to the small dining table and looked over my paperwork and research for my newest client.
I shudder as I feel the twinge again.
Edward Cullen.
I feel the smile creep onto my face before I can stop it. He was so damn charming, and even after four hours spent together, I wanted more. He'd asked if I wanted to have dinner with him, but I declined. I couldn't get my emotions in check, and I still couldn't … still can't determine if he's my next victim or something different.
I check my phone and see that Emmett has messaged me. He needs to meet later than we had planned, and that's fine with me. I need air and space. I grab my things and head for the door. A walk to clear my head and maybe a trip to the grocery store so I can make dinner tonight and I should feel right as rain.
The day is warm already, and I bask in the heat. I'm still feeling chilled from the nightmare, but I can see that I've made the right choice to get outside for a while. Birds are singing and I can almost hear the crash of the waves from a few blocks away. I contemplate heading to the water but think better of it. If I go, I'll end up there all day, and I don't have time for that now. There's a pull, as if I could hear the ocean calling out for me, begging me to return... but not today. After Hera. After redefining our terms. Maybe then I'll return to the sea for a while.
I stopped into a café for a cup of coffee as I wander around this little seaside town. It's mostly a party town; students from the few local colleges come here all nights during the week, and especially on the weekends, to drink in the many bars and party. I'm glad I live far enough from the main drag not to have to deal with the twenty-somethings, even though I can fit right in.
They're too loud and reckless for my taste, and watching their walks of shame has become a favorite pastime of mine.
I see a man crossing the street and notice his slacks are wrinkled, and so is the polo shirt he's wearing, like it had all been in a pile on the floor. I notice the skip in his step and think he must have gotten lucky. It's then that I notice his hair that's not quite brown and not quite red. Hair that is reaching up and out in all different directions.
He passes a woman who is walking her bulldog, and he flashes her a smile.
Suddenly, my palms are clammy and my throat is dry. Edward Cullen, who may or may not be doing a walk of shame, is here … in my neighborhood. Suddenly, the twinge in my gut feels like a punch, and I have to know if he's leaving someone's house or if he's just a slob.
Before I realize what I'm doing, I start to follow him down the street. I'm crossing my fingers and hoping he won't turn around and recognize me as I stalk him. Isn't that what I'm doing? I mean, I turned him down when he asked me out, yet here I am!
Edward is easily twenty feet ahead of me when he walks into a Starbucks, and of course, I follow him, dumping the perfectly good cup of coffee I have in the trash. He orders and the next thing I know, I'm standing in front of a perky barista.
"Hi! What can I get started for you?" she asks with a squeaky voice.
"Um, a tall iced white mocha with no whip cream."
She asks for a name and payment, and I'm trying to keep my voice down and not draw attention to myself when I hear my name called.
"Bella?" Edward is looking at me, and it takes me a moment to respond because I'm lost in the green of his eyes, and my heart has lurched into my throat.
"Edward, hi. Funny running into you here," I say with a strangled laugh.
He throws up a finger, signaling me to give him a minute as his name is called and he picks up his drink. He comes back over and winks as he takes a sip.
"So, am I in your neighborhood or are you in mine?" he asks casually, and I smile because I think he's flirting.
"Technically, I'm only a few blocks from where I live, so …" I trail off, waiting for him to tell me that he also lives in the area. The barista calls my name, and I grab my drink as Edward gestures to a table.
We sit and nurse our drinks as Edward tells me about moving into a new apartment right on the beach and not having all of his stuff because the moving truck broke down halfway through the trip.
"So, I've got to go buy some clothes to get me through a couple more days, and maybe a coffee maker," he tells me as he tips his cup back and takes a drink. "Actually, I need to basically furnish my whole apartment."
"Oh ... I could help you," I say and wince because I'm sure I sound way too eager. "I mean, obviously, you can do it on your own, but wouldn't it be nice to do the mundane with another person?"
"That would be fantastic! I do like having another person's opinions too. I'd love to go today, if you're free, but I need to do laundry so I don't recycle my clothes again." He laughs and my heart lurches.
What the hell?
"I have a washer and dryer at my place, if you want to use them. That way we can just go and get you started." In that moment, I panic. I never invite anyone over; not that I haven't had the opportunity, I suppose. I just don't have any friends aside from Emmett. I'm mentally making a list of all the things I'd need to hide if Edward does step foot into my space.
"I couldn't impose there, but I appreciate it. I'll tell you what; I've got some workout clothes that are clean. I could run home, put those on, and come pick you up," he says as he stands, even though I haven't agreed to anything yet. "I'll grab us an Uber."
"I have a car. I'll go home and pick you up here in 20?" I stand and we both dump our empty cups into the trash.
"Deal. See you shortly."
I plop back down in my chair and shake my head.
What am I doing?
Seventeen minutes later, I'm idling in the loading zone waiting for Edward. I had rushed back to my place and brushed my hair, and teeth, and slapped on some mascara.
I spot Edward and beep my horn so he sees where I am. I'm sure I'm drooling a little. He's in black athletic shorts and another blue shirt that seems to be pulled taut against his chest. He gets in the car, we grin at each other, and I take off.
A few hours later, we're both pushing full Target shopping carts, and I'm watching him finally compare coffee makers. We've been talking all day, but I have more questions.
"So, Edward?"
"Hmmm?" He's still reading the features on a huge Keurig box and doesn't look my way.
"What made you decide to up and move here from Chicago?" I'm naturally curious, and this is something I feel like he's danced around all afternoon.
I watch closely as he straightens up and heaves the box into his cart. I can see he's collecting his thoughts, and I immediately wonder if he's going to lie to me. I mean, I guess I won't be able to tell; it's not an ability I possess.
"Have you ever gotten an urge to do something, and even though you weren't sure where it came from, you just knew you had to follow it?" He's looking at me now, his green eyes locked with my hazel eyes.
If only he knew.
"Yes, I have." Here's where I can be real for just a second. "It's almost like you hear something in your head and your heart at the same moment you feel it in your gut."
"YES!" A woman passing by the aisle we're occupying looks startled, but she moves on. "Yes, that's exactly the feeling I had eighteen months ago." He begins to move out of the way because people are trying to get around us.
"So, something urged you to leave home?"
"Not just leave Chicago to come to California, but here specifically. I got the apartment near the beach because I felt like that was right too." On a sigh, he looks a little wistful. "I miss Chicago—don't get me wrong ... but being here feels so right."
"I understand that. I came here three years ago because I knew I had to." He didn't need to know that I had to come here to kill someone; that's beside the point right now. "Was it hard for you to leave?"
"Yes and no. I mean, I had a girlfriend, but she didn't want to move, and then there was this in-depth analysis of our relationship and how I'd been checked out for so long. So we broke up, and then I found out she was already seeing some guy." He looks down as if he's checking for something in his cart, but I know what's up. I get it, kind of.
"How long were you two together?" It's useful information, and I feel like he needs to talk about it some more.
"Two and a half years. She said I was checked out for the last year or so though." The expression on his face is one of remorse.
I'm choosing my words carefully when my phone rings. "I'm sorry. I thought it was on silent." I reach in my bag and pull it out. "I need to answer this. Do you mind?" Edward shakes his head as I answer. "Hey, Emmett."
"Hey, babe! What time did you want me to come over?" I cringe as I remember our plans.
"Right because we're having dinner tonight." I glance down at my watch. "How about 6:30? That'll give me plenty of time to figure out what to make."
"Did you forget about me?" Emmett asks with a laugh.
"Sort of. Sorry. Hey, why don't you just pick up a few pizzas, and I'll get that IPA you like?"
Emmett agrees, and I end the call.
"Sorry about that. My friend Emmett and I had plans tonight, and I kinda forgot." Edward nods with a grin.
"Who's Emmett?" he asks with a smile as we head to the checkout lanes.
"How do I describe Emmett?" I laugh., "He's kind of like my father, brother, chaperone, and best friend rolled into one."
"How long have you known each other?" We're loading his items onto the belt and the cashier looks over and shuts off her light.
"It feels like several lifetimes."
After Edward pays, we head back to my car and laugh as we try to fit everything in the Mini. Obviously, this car isn't made for huge shopping sprees.
"I really appreciate your company today. I find this sort of thing really tedious." We're buckled in, and I'm pulling out of the parking lot and heading to the freeway. "I was going to ask you to have dinner with me, but you already have plans."
"Well, Emmett and I are, um ... working on a big project together."
"Do you two often work on 'big projects' together?" His hands go up to use finger quotes and I laugh.
"If you're subtly trying in inquire as to whether Emmett and I are any closer than friends, you're failing." I laugh again and Edward joins in. "Emmett is like my gay best friend ... except he isn't gay."
Edward nods, and we're both silent as I navigate the freeway exit and streets to get back to his apartment. After I help him unload and carry everything in, we're standing on the curb. I don't want the time together to be over.
"Thanks again, Bella. I really do appreciate it," Edward says as he runs a hand through his hair. It looks so silky, and I want to reach out and touch it.
"You're welcome." I'm nervous and I hate this. "You know, just because I have dinner plans tonight doesn't mean I have plans tomorrow." I look up at him, and he's grinning.
"Would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow night?" He reaches out and grabs one of my hands and gives it a light squeeze.
"It's a date."
A/N: I'd like to apologize for the lateness of this chapter. My mental health got the best of me the last few months and I couldn't cope. In my defense...I never set a schedule. My many thanks to Sally, Krystel, BeLynda, Kris, Kris, and Athena. All of you in the Houston area continue to be in my thoughts, along with those of you in Irma's path. Be safe.