Warning: This story will contain graphic depictions of violence, mature language, abuse and lemons in later chapters.
Chapter Three
-My Tired Eyes-
The bar was packed full. Groups of men rose to their feet in drunken high-fives and cheers whenever the Mariners stole a base or scored a point, and the wives smoked cigarettes out the cracked windows as they laughed along.
Rooster was smiling with the crowd, handing out beers to each patron and graciously accepting tips as they found their way into the large chipped jar by the register.
The pub was of course loud, jovial and full of excitement. This was the first game of the season, and it seemed they were hitting things off with a bang.
Issa however, laid in her small twin bed feeling once again the familiar yet distracting rumble of base finding its way through her floor boards. With a sigh she tossed her book somewhere behind her and scrubbed at her eyes.
The boom of the tv speakers had been enough for her to lose her place in her chapter multiple times, and with a silent grumble she swung her legs off the cot and rose to her feet. Dressing quickly in an oversized sweatshirt and jeans, she twisted her hair up in a haphazard bun and moved to the window.
She needed some air.
Ever since the incident in the parking lot she had felt off kilter. The walls she had created to protect herself were no match for the solemn look in Jake's eyes. She could still see the worry, and worse...the hurt.
Shaking her head she hopped through the window, and landed softly on the upper level of the fire escape. She climbed a few steps, and with practiced ease, jumped the last few feet before falling quietly on the pads of her sneaker covered feet.
The alley was quiet, the only noise was the occasional droplet of water hitting the metal railing on the stairs, or the faint whirl of wheels from passing cars. The road was made from worn pavement, and as most buildings in forks, the outer walls of Rookie's was red brick, laid long ago.
The sky itself was a deep and mournful gray, which suited Issa just fine. Her lazy morning rolled on, and she was intent on pushing all thoughts of fear and panic aside. She was strong, willful and independent. The voice in her mind argued with the voice in her heart as she walked, jeering at one another and thoroughly cementing a pounding headache.
The softer voice begging her to rest, to heal, to reach out to Jake was roughly quieted by a much stronger, deeper voice. This one demanded she keep moving, keep her head above water and forget everything that Jake was, or worse, still is.
She found her usual path to the trees and after glancing at her watch, decided to take the long trek to the local beach, deep into the reservation. The emerald pines and evergreens fanned around her as she stepped into the forest, immediately feeling comforted by the familiar scents and scenery. Her mind seemed to quiet slightly, and she shook out the build up of nervous energy from her fingertips.
As she walked, she mindlessly began to practice her footwork, flipping out the blade in her pocket and tossing it with ease between her palms as she slid over and evaded fallen trees and stones. The edge of the knife would knick the side of a sleepy evergreen as she imagined cutting through Mike Newton's achilles tendon and a small surge of victory would nestle inside her chest. The nervous energy inside of her now pulled towards a plausible focus, a task.
That remembered feeling of her hauled up against his fist, at his mercy, had made her feel weak and small. School was not only a reminder of her differences, but even more concerning, her vulnerability. She had to graduate, had to figure out a way to leave Forks and never come back. Further education was out of the question with her current means, and she'd have to figure out Charlie...but freedom was at her fingertips. So...so close.
And sheathing her knife inside Mike's groin would only land her in another cell. Sure, she was agile, swift and careful. But she was petite. Her wrists thin and surprisingly dainty. The muscles underneath her clothes tensed and poised, but the skin surrounding them soft and occasionally dusted with freckles.
She hadn't been built for hand to hand combat, and that terrified her. As she spun through the trees, eventually panting with effort and with reddened cheeks, the knife in her hand flew from target to target and she kept herself low to the ground as she imagined making her way through captors.
It felt like her own brand of therapy. When the rain began to drizzle through the long spidery branches above her she paused mid swing, her blade speared into a tree, and took a breath. Sweat dribbled from her brow and the sweet relief of exhaustion began to seep into her bones. How long had she been going? Judging by the sound of water crashing in the distance a few hours at least.
After pulling her sweatshirt over head and pocketing the knife with ease, she was exposed from the waist up to the elements. Her chest bound by a simple black sports bra and her skin wonderfully pimpled from the cold air.
Through the trees she saw the tell tale cliffside surrounded by water and rocky beaches. The sky seemed turbulent, and the deep green water licked against each protruding surface in a wild dance. The band in her hair fell as she stepped forward and the wind hit her full force. The beach was abandoned, and it made her smile softly as she closed her eyes and breathed in the scents. The sweat on her skin blew dry and her lungs filled with salty air.
She knew this beach well. It was a long walk, which meant she didn't come as often as she liked, but still considered it one of her safe places. She never ran into anyone she knew, and most times the families that gathered there were more interested in the huge bonfires and roast salmon than her.
Anonymity freed her from the constraints that others had bound her with, knowingly or not.
A loud clap and a scattering splash of water thundered from the churning sea, soon followed by woops of laughter, snagging her attention. Her earth colored eyes opened fast, searching for the source of the sound.
That's when she saw the body of a man falling from the cliff.
She let out a gasping step as she ran to the edge of the beach, feeling utterly useless upon seeing the impact of man and water. She raised a shaky hand to her mouth, then paused, now seeing the figure reemerge next to another body in the water, both yelling out in glee and terror as the jumper tackled the other figure back under the surface.
Issa's heart raced behind her breastbone and she sought to make sense of what she had seen as the two began their swim back to the other side of the cliff and disappeared from view.
Cliff diving. This was cliff diving. She let out a dazed laugh under her breath.
The only reason she hadn't remembered earlier was the fact that she'd never seen anyone actually attempt it. She had heard in passing over the years that the kids on the Rez would jump every year in celebration for the graduating class. Sometimes even the occasional Forks High School senior would join in, and the school would be forced to hand out flyers warning of the potential risks, to keep angry parents at bay.
But now seeing it up close, It had looked so...freeing. So wonderfully silly and simple, but no doubt thrilling. She tossed her sweatshirt to the side, letting it fall somewhere in the sand as her body brought her towards the cliffs ascending path.
This would be perfect. A distraction, a release. A boost she desperately needed.
As she climbed, Jacob's outstretched hand filled her memory, her fathers pleading voice echoing down the stairs sizzled in the dark places of her mind. The air rushed past her, leaving her hair whipping wildly around her as she neared the peak of the rocky cliff.
Her jeans hung low on her hips as she kicked off her shoes and pressed the pads of her toes to the edge. A smile graced her lips as she closed her eyes. The smooth angular stones under her toes gave no resistance when she took a small step forward, now flush with the cliff below her.
She shone in the gray landscape. Her pale skin illuminated against the almost violent drop off below her. The water beckoned her forward, guaranteeing a moment of silence if she jumped.
She thought of the men before her, laughing all the way back to shore.
When was the last time she had really laughed like that? Really let her mind be silent and stopped thinking so damn hard?
She leaned forward, wet ropes of hair draping against her neck and rivulets of water running in small torrents down her body. With a small smile, she took another step into open air, and fell. The arms at her side raised with the wind.
The invigorating slap of air felt right for a moment, her eyes staying closed as she plummeted, only opening once the water slammed into her and she bowed underneath the current.
Roaring all around her the ocean seemed angry at her intrusion, so loud it was deafening as a wave caught her mid gasp and crushed her against a jagged wall of stone.
She opened her mouth in a silent scream as she felt her ribs crack with each wave of ocean water, thunder booming above as she went under again and again. The current pulled her deeper into its cold embrace. She watched as the crashing arcs and dips above her vanished in a shimmer of light, to the calm waters of the deep. Crimson bloomed around her, her own blood clouding in the water in a horribly beautiful expansion of featherlike ripples.
She opened her lips again, her last remaining breath pushed from her as she fell still. The weight was too great...and her body too broken. Salty water filled her throat and she reached up to her neck, uselessly clawing at the horrible sting.
The water seemed to fade into a darkening mist, the edges of her vision turning black as her brain deprived itself of oxygen. Terror swelled into her breast and she tried to kick up, her palms leaving her neck and attempting to reach upwards to the sky.
The muscles in her body gave out with a rattle as she was pulled away again towards the cliff's base, and with a sickening crack her skull met stone.
After that...all she could do was drift...
For a while she existed in that quiet space. No thoughts... no pain...and no senses. Later, she would attempt to describe it as the feeling right before slumber. When all you could do was let yourself fall.
When her senses came back, one by one, they were confusing and disorienting.
The first had been smell. Somewhere in that place of slumber, she smelled the scent of copper and salt. Two basic elements that seemed confusing to Issa in her current state.
The next conscious thought she had was the realization that she was moving. Not her body, she was too far gone for that at the moment. No, but she could feel the wind on her face as her legs dangled below her uselessly.
Ahh...that felt nice. Even the scorching heat behind her felt nice as it supported her weight.
"Tell Emily. Now!"
She frowned, confused and jarred by the sudden burst of noise at her ear. The voice was low, gravelly and reminded her of a low purr of an engine.
My...eyes…
The thought floated in her mind as she attempted to locate that part of her body. Her brain was reeling and attempting to right itself in clumsy tumbles.
Attempting to sit up, she tensed her muscles and a gust of air expelled from her lips.
Oh...there it was...the pain.
Her throat and lungs felt raw and coarse with every weak breath she took. Her sides ached so badly that she found herself in fear of the next breath.
"Woah...stay down little one. That's it, just relax." The deep voice rumbled and she felt what she now assumed to be arms around her tighten. She was so warm and the skin around her felt slick.
The copper smell became stronger as she let her head rest against the stranger. With a final burst of resolve and energy she blinked up slowly.
Trees. The blur of them overhead behind a large tanned jaw, short cropped black hair curving around a very sturdy neck.
The head tilted downwards, and amber eyes met hers, the color of imperfect autumn leaves. The ring on his finger dug into Issa's back as he held her now swaying form.
"What's your name?"
Her eyes were already drifting off his face back towards the blur of the trees. She heard the man speak to her again, this time a little louder, but the words sounded fuzzy and far away to her now.
Blood dripped from her lower lip to her chin as she closed her eyes once more, and was swept away back inside herself.
This time the darkness was not quite so dark. Flashes of lights, voices above her, and the constant touch of hands on her skin kept pulling her back and forth from consciousness.
The air crackled with frantic energy as she was vaguely aware of someone removing her jeans and wrapping her torso with cloth. The sensation became too much and she gripped the wooden surface underneath her.
A warm touch to her brow, a whisper at her ear.
"Shh…I know it hurts. You're safe. You're in good hands. Just stay with me, okay?" A woman's voice now, calm and rich.
Issa fought for clarity, her eyes opened once more, and this time met a deeper set of eyes, kind and disfigured slightly by a scar running from the temple of her face, to the tip of her nose. Strangely the violence in the healed wound didn't frighten Issa, but gave her hope she might too survive her injuries.
She felt her lips move but nothing came out. Frustrated, she tried again, but this time only a wrecked cough tore its way out of her abused lungs.
The woman's hand moved and rested on her cheek, and only then did Issa realize she had been crying.
I don't want to die. I don't want to die. Please! Please help me!
Her eyes were rimmed with red, and her long dark lashes clumped together from sea water. Her skin too pale, her knees and feet sliced to ribbons…she felt utterly exposed.
The woman held her eyes firmly in hers. "You will live. Listen to me, you will live."
Issa felt her own hot tears run over the woman's hand.
"Breathe with me okay? I've got you." The woman parted her lips and took in a deep breath, then slowly released it.
Issa watched her, less and less aware of the other sets of hands on her, tending to her wounds. She seemed to melt into those eyes.
"That's it…in…and out…"
Issa's body shook from exhaustion but she managed one final deep breath, before rest was demanded of her, and she slipped peacefully under once more, now calm and numb with the voice of the woman speaking softly, as if to a child.
A/N: Next we meet Paul.
This story has been in my heart and mind for quite some time, I hope you love my Bella and Paul as much as I do. I always credit those that inspire me, see the three I reference below.
"Be Like Water" By Taoist Elf
"The Devil You Know" by Unseelie Sidhe (Please for the love of God Unseelie, finish that masterpiece.)
The Choice by Nicholas Sparks
Stephanie Meyer is the sole owner of the Twilight Franchise, and she owns all related characters you may see here. This is merely a fanfiction of her work.