Carlisle and Esme had a few of my fathers new peers from the college over Saturday evening, discussing a myriad of topics surrounding the school year. The official story was that this was his first year teaching and he was wanting to eventually branch out instructing at a medical college. Just a simple cover story. Carlisle had plenty of experience teaching at much more prestigious institutions than in Forks, many more years than all the other professors combined.
Normally myself and my siblings would all be out of the house when they had humans over. I decided to stay behind this time. Jasper could feel something was irritating me, and I preferred to not give him an easier opportunity for a private conversation. My other siblings paid no mind. Rosalie would probably think I was just skulking. Again.
Spending the last of the summer weekend moping in my bedroom with a pillow over my head, blocking my ears as if it would provide any sort of protection was not the original plan I had.
But the weekend passed without incident. The others went and hunted, returning home in the early Monday light with bright golden eyes and slightly warmed complexions. A fresh feeding didn't do much to help our mortal disguises aside from adding a tad of color to our faces. The difference was still startling, however. I had glanced in the rearview mirror of my car and caught my own reflection, the pitch black of my own eyes with near matching sleepless circles underneath was unsettling. The parlor of my skin seemed almost sickly in comparison.
My courses passed by at a snail's pace, and it seemed like every time I overheard thoughts about Isabella it crawled even slower. There were a few people that were attempting to figure out if her gentle responses and kind smiles were flirting or something else.
Nothing but a shiny new toy.
As if my annoyance over the girl's silence wasn't enough, the strange scent from the parking lot had followed me throughout the day. I winced every time it caught me, regretting each time that I hadn't just ignored my foul mood and gone hunting.
Finally, as if the time would never come, the last class of the day rolled around.
This was certainly going to be the easiest part of the day. Having a small portion to spend with Carlisle present would break the monotony. He hadn't arrived yet; in fact no one else had.
In the classroom, I settled into my chair and let my books - props; they held nothing I didn't already know - spill across the table. I had picked up a novel during my moping in the library, surprised to find one that I hadn't already read. It wouldn't take me long to read it.
The room slowly filled as the students trickled in. I leaned back in my chair and waited for the time to pass. Again, I wished I was able to sleep.
Bella seems just as shy as me. I'll bet today is really hard for her, being all new and first day of college jitters.. I wish I could say something...but it would probably just sound stupid… Especially in front of Dr. Cullen. I recognized Angela Weber's voice, my attention piqued with the mention of the strange girl. Angela was a freshman, but had always done well in school, taking extracurricular classes and assignments for extra credit, so it didn't surprise me to see her in an upper level class. I could hear Carlisle behind her, chatting quietly to her.
No, not to her. To Isabella. She and Carlisle walked in, trailing behind Angela. Bella was staring wide eyed up at my adoptive father, perhaps a little stunned. Carlisle was welcoming her in, and Angela was replaying a memory from just moments before of him complementing both girls on their current academic successes allowing them a head start. His class wasn't easy, he warned.
She had allowed herself to get momentarily flustered and shared a knowing glance with Isabella Angela had always been unusually kind, her mind an easy place to be in. She didn't spend much time thinking of us, but she was only human.
Yes! Mike Newton thought, turning in his seat to watch the girls enter. I resisted groaning with annoyance.
"Neither of you hesitate to come see me if you need assistance," Carlisle said, his voice welcoming. "And welcome to Forks, Isabella." She smiled shyly in response.
"Just Bella, please." She said softly, her words barely above a whisper. She didn't like being called Isabella, I supposed. Still, even now, from the place where Bella stood… nothing. The empty space where her thoughts should be irritated and unnerved me.
Angela settled in an open seat at the front of the class. Carlisle gestured towards me, and nodded his head in a silent greeting. Bella glanced towards where I sat, then around the room.
Poor girl; the seat next to me was the last one available. Automatically, I cleared what would be her side of the desk, shoving my books into a pile. I doubted she would feel very comfortable there. She was in for a long semester - in this class, at least. Perhaps, though, sitting beside her, I'd be able to flush out her secrets...not that I'd ever needed close proximity before. Not that I would find anything worth listening to.
Bella Swan walked into the flow of the heated air that blew toward me from the vent.
Her scent hit me like a wrecking ball, like a battering ram. There was no image violent enough to encapsulate the force of what happened to me in that moment.
Instantly, I was transformed, I was nothing close to the human I'd once been. Not a single trace of the shreds of humanity I managed to cloak myself in over the years remained.
I was a predator. She was my prey. There was nothing else in the whole world but that truth.
There was no room full of witnesses - they were already collateral damage in my head. The mystery of her thoughts was forgotten. Her thoughts meant nothing, for she would not go on thinking them much longer.
I was a vampire, and she had the sweetest blood I'd smelled in ninety years. I hadn't imagined such a scent could exist. If I'd known it did, I would have gone searching for it long ago. I would have scoured the planet for her. I could imagine the taste…
I realized quickly that this was what I had been smelling all day. What I had smelled in the parking lot. This was that scent. No longer washed away and faded, soiled by the now horrendously unappealing nature of others' flesh. It was a shame I had truly not realized what it was prior to this moment. It would have been much easier to rid of witnesses then– Or I could have just followed her ancient truck to privacy. It wouldn't have been difficult to stop the truck with my bare hands. To rip the door open and pull her into the woods. It would have been exemplary, I could have spent as much time as I wanted savoring her flavor. Seamless. Intemperate.
Thirst burned through my throat like fire. My mouth felt baked and desiccated, and the fresh flow of venom did nothing to dispel that sensation. My stomach twisted with the hunger that was an echo of the thirst. My muscles coiled to, ready to spring.
Not a full second had passed. She was still taking the same step that had put her downwind from me, away from safety.
As her foot touched the ground, her eyes slid toward me, a movement she clearly meant to be stealthy.
Her glance met mine, and I saw myself reflected in the wide mirror of her eyes.
The shock of the face I saw there saved her life for a few thorny moments.
She didn't make it easier. When she processed the expression on my face, blood flooded her cheeks again, turning her skin the most delicious color I'd ever seen. The scent was a thick haze in my brain. I could barely think through it. My thoughts raged, resisting control, incoherent.
She walked more quickly now, as if she understood the need to escape. Her haste made her clumsy - she tripped and stumbled forward, almost falling into the girl seated in front of me. Vulnerable, weak. Even more than usual for a human.
I tried to focus on the face I'd seen in her eyes, a face I recognized with revulsion. The face of the monster in me - the face I'd beaten back with endless decades of effort and uncompromising discipline. How easily it sprang to the surface now!
The scent swirled around me again, scattering my thoughts and nearly propelling me out of my seat.
My hand gripped under the edge of the table as I tried to hold myself in my chair.
The wood was not up to the task. My hand crushed through the strut and came away with a palmful of splintered pulp, leaving the shape of my fingers carved into the remaining wood.
Destroy evidence. That was a fundamental rule. I quickly pulverized the edges of the shape with my fingertips, leaving nothing but a ragged hole and a pile of shavings on the floor, which I scattered with my foot.
Destroy evidence. Collateral damage...
I knew what had to happen now. The girl would have to come sit beside me, and I would have to kill her.
The innocent bystanders in this classroom could not be allowed to leave this room, having seen what they would soon see.
I flinched at the thought of what I must do. Even at my very worst, I had never committed this kind of atrocity. I had never killed innocents, not in over nine decades.
And now I planned to slaughter twenty of them at once.
The face of the monster in my reflection mocked me.
Even as part of me shuddered away from the monster, another part was planning it. Reveling it.
If I killed the girl first, I would have only fifteen or twenty seconds with her before the humans in the room would react. Maybe a little bit longer, if at first they did not realize what I was doing. She would not have time to scream or feel pain; I would not kill her cruelly. That much I could give this stranger with her horribly desirable blood.
But then I would have to stop them from escaping. I wouldn't have to worry about the windows, too high up and small to provide an escape for anyone. Just the door - block that and they were trapped.
It would be slower and more difficult, trying to take them all down when they were panicked and scrambling, moving in chaos. Not impossible, but there would be much more noise. Time for lots of screaming. Carlisle would help me. Surely he would understand how impossible this was to resist. He wouldn't be happy, no, but we have all had our moments of weakness, and he would do what he had to in order to protect our family from the exposure I risked.
And her blood would cool, while I murdered the others. Perhaps Carlisle could just deal with the casualties for me?
The scent punished me, closing my throat with dry aching...
So the witnesses first then.
I mapped it out in my head. I was in the middle of the room, the furthest row in the back. I would take my right side first. I could snap four or five of their necks per second, I estimated. It would not be noisy. The right side would be the lucky side; they would not see me coming. Moving around the front and back up the left side, it would take me, at most, five seconds to end every life in this room.
Long enough for Bella Swan to see, briefly, what was coming for her. Long enough for her to feel fear. Long enough, maybe, if shock didn't freeze her in place, for her to work up a scream. One soft scream that would not bring anyone running.
I wonder if the fear would make her taste that much sweeter.
I took a deep breath, and the scent was a fire that raced through my dry veins, burning out from my chest to consume every better impulse that I was capable of. She was just turning now. In a few seconds, she would sit down inches away from me.
The monster in my head smiled in nauseating anticipation.
Someone slammed shut a folder on my left. I didn't look up to see whose funeral it was. But the motion sent a wave of ordinary, unscented air wafting across my face.
For one short second, I was able to think clearly. In that precious second that allowed a moment of clarity, an alarmed voice shouting my name slammed into my head.
EDWARD! Carlisle's normally calm tone was riddled with alarm. I could see myself through his view now, and the image was even more chilling than my reflection in the girl's eyes. Anyone that took a second to look at me would be able to tell I was tense, but Carlisle was the only one in this room that could truly see how distressed I was.
I could see in perfect clarity how inhuman I looked in that moment. My dark eyes seemed to burn, filled with unmistakable hunger. My jaw muscles were stressed against the skin of my face, hardening my expression that was only made worse by the silent snarl beginning to curl my upper lip. The dust from the cheap desk was settling. I watched myself as my eyes slid from the girl to my father, and the juxtaposition of the two faces I was seeing was jarring.
I looked nearly identical to myself years ago– a red-eyed monster that had killed so many people that I'd stop counting their numbers. Rationalized, justified murders. A killer of killers, a killer of other, less powerful monsters. It was my own God complex, I acknowledged that - deciding who deserved a death sentence. It was a compromise with myself. I had fed on human blood, but only by the loosest definition. My victims were, in their various dark pastimes, barely more human than I was.
The other face was Carlisle's.
There was no resemblance between the two. They were bright day and blackest night.
There was no reason for there to be a resemblance. Carlisle was not my father in the basic biological sense. We shared no common features. The similarity in our coloring was a product of what we were; every vampire had the same ice pale skin. The similarity in the color of our eyes was another matter - a reflection of a mutual choice.
And yet, though there was no basis for a resemblance, I'd imagined that my face had begun to reflect his, to an extent, in the last eighty-odd years that I had embraced his choice and followed in his steps. My features had not changed, but it seemed to me like some of his wisdom had marked my expression, that a little of his compassion could be traced in the shape of my mouth, and hints of his patience were evident on my brow.
All those tiny improvements were lost in the face of the monster. In a few moments, there would be nothing left in me that would reflect the years I'd spent with my creator, my mentor, my father in all the ways that counted. My eyes would glow red as a devil's; all likeness would be lost forever.
I knew that he would forgive me for this horrible act that I would do. Because he loved me. Because he thought I was better than I was. And he would still love me, even as I now proved him wrong.
This didn't make me feel any better. I didn't care.
Bella Swan sat down in the chair next to me, her movements stiff and awkward - with fear? - and the scent of her blood bloomed in an inexorable cloud around me. I would prove my father wrong about me. The misery of this fact hurt almost as much as the fire in my throat.
She shrugged her oversized coat off of her shoulders. She was wearing a tight long sleeved top, dark green with a low scooped neck. Her hair caught on her jacket, momentarily exposing the entirety of her throat.
It was almost erotic, the way her blood pulsed under her flesh.
I leaned away in revulsion - revolted by the monster aching to take her. Why did she have to come here? Why did she have to exist? Why did she have to ruin the little peace I had in this non-life of mine? Why had this aggravating human ever been born? She would ruin me.
The heat emanating from her exposed body set fire to my skin, the pain comparable to the torment I experienced nearly a century ago when Carlisle's teeth first sunk into my skin.
I turned my face away from her, as a sudden fierce, unreasoning hatred washed through me.
Who was this creature? Why me, why now? Why did I have to lose everything just because she happened to choose this unlikely town to appear in? Why had she come here!
I didn't want to be the monster! I didn't want to kill this room full of harmless children! I didn't want to lose everything I'd gained in a lifetime of sacrifice and denial! I wouldn't. She couldn't make me.
The scent was the problem, the hideously appealing scent of her blood. If there was only some way to resist...if only another gust of fresh air could clear my head. Bella Swan shook out her long, thick, mahogany hair in my direction.
Was she insane? It was as if she were encouraging the monster! Taunting him. There was no friendly breeze to blow the smell away from me now. All would soon be lost.
I continued to unravel.
No, there was no helpful breeze. But I didn't have to breathe.
I stopped the flow of air through my lungs; the relief was instantaneous, but incomplete. Hollow. I still had the memory of the scent in my head, the taste of it on the back of my tongue. I wouldn't be able to resist even that for long. But perhaps I could resist for an hour. One hour. Just enough time to get out of this room full of victims, victims that maybe didn't have to be victims. If I could resist for one short hour.
It was an uncomfortable feeling, not breathing. My body did not need oxygen, but it went against my instincts. I relied on scent more than my other senses in times of stress. It led the way in the hunt, it was the first warning in case of danger. I did not often come across something as dangerous as I was, but self-preservation was just as strong in my kind as it was in the average person.
Uncomfortable, but manageable. More bearable than smelling her and not sinking my teeth through that fine, thin, see-through skin to the hot, wet, pulsing - An hour! Just one hour. I must not think of the scent, the taste.
The silent girl kept her hair between us, leaning forward so that it spilled across her folder. I couldn't see her face, to try to read the emotions in her clear, deep eyes. Was this why she'd let her tresses fan out between us? To hide those eyes from me? Out of fear? Shyness? To keep her secrets from me?
My former irritation at being stymied by her soundless thoughts was weak and pale in comparison to the need - and the hate - that possessed me now. For I hated this frail woman-child beside me, hated her with all the fervor with which I clung hopelessly to my former self, my love of my family, my dreams of being something better than what I was... Hating her, hating how she made me feel - it helped a little. Yes, the irritation I'd felt before was weak, but it, too, helped a little.
I clung to any emotion that distracted me from imagining what she would taste like...
Hate and irritation. Impatience. Would the hour never pass?
And when the hour ended... Then she would walk out of this room. And I would do what?
I could introduce myself. Hello, my name is Edward Cullen. Do you have any classes after this? May I walk you to your truck?
She would say yes. It would be the polite thing to do. Even already fearing me, as I suspected she did, she would follow convention and walk beside me. It should be easy enough to lead her in the wrong direction. A spur of the forest reached out like a finger to touch the back corner of the parking lot. I could tell her I'd forgotten a book in my car...
Would anyone notice that I was the last person she'd been seen with? It was raining, as usual; two dark raincoats heading the wrong direction wouldn't pique too much interest, or give me away.
Except that I was not the only student who was aware of her today - though no one was as blisteringly aware as I was. Mike Newton, in particular, was conscious of every shift in her weight as she fidgeted in her chair - she was uncomfortable so close to me, just as anyone would be, just as I'd expected before her scent had destroyed all charitable concern. Mike Newton would notice if she left the classroom with me.
If I could last an hour, could I last two?
I flinched at the pain of the burning.
She would go home to an empty house. Police Chief Swan worked a full day. I knew his house, as I knew every house in the tiny town. His home was nestled right up against thick woods, with no close neighbors. Even if she had time to scream, which she would not, there would be no one to hear.
That would be the responsible way to deal with this. I'd gone eight decades without human blood. If I held my breath, I could last two hours. And when I had her alone, there would be no chance of anyone else getting hurt. And no reason to rush through the experience, the monster in my head agreed.
It was sophistry to think that by saving the humans in this room with effort and patience, I would be less of a monster when I killed this innocent girl. Though I hated her, I knew my hatred was unjust. I knew that what I really hated was myself. And I would hate us both so much more when she was dead.
I made it through the hour in this way - imagining the best ways to kill her. I tried to avoid imagining the actual act. That might be too much for me; I might lose this battle and end up killing everyone in sight. So I planned strategy, and nothing more. It carried me through the hour.
Carlisle, master in the art of poker faces, carried on with his class like nothing was amiss. Like his son wasn't sitting quite literally on the edge of his chair, begging silently to be released from this torment and hell. He had guessed accurately what was plaguing me. It was obvious. I may have been a newborn vampire, rabid and uncontrollable.
The words that flowed effortlessly through his mouth as he studied the syllabus with his new students did not match his inner thoughts. They were locked on me– talking me through the pain like an injured patient at the hospital.
Once, toward the very end, she peeked up at me through the fluid wall of her hair. I could feel the unjustified hatred burning out of me as I met her gaze - see the reflection of it in her frightened eyes. Blood painted her cheek before she could hide in her hair again, and I was nearly undone.
Eventually, in a much more traumatic fashion than the others, the class ended. We were both saved. She, saved from death. I, saved for just a short time from being the nightmarish creature I feared and loathed. I shot up from my chair much quicker than I should have and paused, my fingers locked on the corner of the desk. Bella herself scrambled out of her seat, her heart pounding. Mike Newton followed her out hastily, pleased with how uncomfortable Bella looked beside me the entire time. It took a few minutes for the remainder of the students to clear out, and slowly I felt myself relaxing ever so slightly.
The air was still stained with her scent, but not having the source mere feet beside me helped. I could smell other things now, the air seeming to wash the inside of my body out from an infection.
I was sane again. I could think again. And I could fight again. I could fight against what I didn't want to be.
I didn't have to go to her home. I didn't have to kill her. Obviously, I was a rational, thinking creature, and I had a choice. There was always a choice.
Perhaps, if I avoided her very, very carefully, there was no need for my life to change. I had things ordered the way I liked them now. Why should I let some aggravating and delicious nobody ruin that?
I didn't have to disappoint my father. I didn't have to cause my mother stress, worry...pain. Yes, it would hurt my adopted mother, too. And Esme was so gentle, so tender and soft. Causing someone like Esme pain was truly inexcusable.
How ironic that I'd wanted to protect this human girl from the paltry, toothless threat of Jessica Stanley's snide thoughts. I was the last person who would ever stand as a protector for Isabella Swan. She would never need protection from anything more than she needed it from me.
Where was Alice, I suddenly wondered? Hadn't she seen me killing the Swan girl in a multitude of ways? Why hadn't she come to help - to stop me or help me clean up the evidence, whichever? Was she so absorbed with watching for trouble with Jasper that she'd missed this much more horrific possibility? Was I stronger than I thought? Would I really not have done anything to the girl?
No. I knew that wasn't true. Alice must be concentrating on Jasper very hard.
I searched in the direction I knew she would be, in the small building used for English classes. It did not take me long to locate her familiar 'voice.' And I was right. Her every thought was turned to Jasper, watching his small choices with minute scrutiny.
I wished I could ask her advice, but at the same time, I was glad she didn't know what I was capable of. That she was unaware of the massacre I had considered in the last hour.
I felt a new burn through my body - the burn of shame. I didn't want any of them to know.
If I could avoid Bella Swan, if I could manage not to kill her - even as I thought that, the monster writhed and gnashed his teeth in frustration - then no one would have to know. If I could keep away from her scent...
There was no reason why I shouldn't try, at least. Make a good choice. Try to be what Carlisle thought I was.
My father smiled politely as the last student left, closing the door behind them. He twisted the lock, it falling into place with a slight click.
"Son…."
"Carlisle. Don't." I managed to choke out, my face crumpling. I felt so ashamed. "I'll be dropping your class. This cannot happen."
"Do you really think that will help, Edward? Being on the same campus, you're bound to run into her again." He flitted over to my side, resting a calming hand on my shoulder. I gritted my teeth, heaving animalistic sighs. Venom prickled at the corner of my eyes, and I shut them.
"I almost murdered her, Carlisle. I almost murdered them all."
"I know, son. This will pass. What you just accomplished took more self control than many of us have, even after all these years of practice."
Us. Us. Us. He always included us. He was as perfect as one of us could be, his incredible self control allowing him around injured and sick humans without risk of killing them. Carlisle always held all of his children in such high regard, no matter any of the mistakes we made.
I didn't deserve it. I didn't deserve his kindness, humility, or praise.
A light knock on the door caused us both to jump. How ridiculous, someone catching a pair of vampires by surprise. Whoever it was didn't think of me, even as they peaked through the small window, so I ignored them, keeping my eyes closed. Carlisle sighed and walked back to the door.
A second was all it took for me to realize why that person had not interrupted me with her thoughts.
I turned, my eyes snapping open, though I did not need to make sure. I turned, slowly, fighting to control the muscles that rebelled against me once more.
Bella Swan stood at the door, wringing her hands together.
"Er- hi, Dr. Cullen. Um, I'm sorry but I forgot my jacket." She pointed next to me, and I looked for a moment to glare at the tan coat she had left on the back of her chair.
Stupid fucking jacket.
I could almost feel the heat from her cheeks as she blushed from where I stood.
"Let me grab that for you," Carlisle began to respond. I quickly grabbed my books and her jacket in one motion, launching myself from the room, trying not to feel the warm-blooded heat of the girl's body as I passed within inches of it.
"You think too highly of me, Carlisle." I muttered, shoving the jacket at him, not wishing to risk what would happen if I handed it to her directly.
Ignoring Carlisle's silent protests, I didn't stop until I was in my car, moving too fast the entire way there. Most of the humans had cleared out already, so there weren't a lot of witnesses. I heard a fellow sophomore, D.J. Garrett, notice, and then disregard...
Where did Cullen come from - it was like he just came out of thin air... There I go, with the imagination again. Mom always says...
When I slid into my Volvo, the others were already there. I tried to control my breathing, but I was gasping at the fresh air like I'd been suffocated.
"Edward?" Alice asked, alarm in her voice.
I just shook my head at her. I couldn't speak.
"What the hell happened to you?" Emmett demanded.
Instead of answering, I threw the car into reverse. I had to get out of this lot before Bella Swan could follow me here, too. My own personal demon, haunting me... I swung the car around and accelerated. I hit forty before I was on the road. On the road, I hit seventy before I made the corner.
Jasper could feel the struggle and emotion that vibrated its way angrily through every inch of my body, the complexities of it too difficult to interpret.
Without looking, I knew that Emmett, Rosalie and Jasper had all turned to stare at Alice. She shrugged. She couldn't see what had passed, only what was coming. She looked ahead for me now. We both processed what she saw in her head, and we were both surprised.
"You're leaving?" she whispered.
The others stared at me now.
"Am I?" I hissed through my teeth.
She saw it then, as my resolve wavered and another choice spun my future in a darker direction.
"Oh."
Bella Swan, dead. My eyes, glowing crimson with fresh blood. The search that would follow. The careful time we would wait before it was safe for us to pull out and start again...
"Oh," she said again. The picture grew more specific. I saw the inside of Chief Swan's house for the first time, saw Bella in a small kitchen with the yellow cupboards, her back to me as I stalked her from the shadows...let the scent pull me toward her… her surprise when I slid my arms around her, my lips grazing her throat…
"Stop!" I groaned, not able to bear more.
"Sorry," she whispered, her eyes wide.
The monster rejoiced.
And the vision in her head shifted again. An empty highway at night, the trees beside it coated in snow, flashing by at almost two hundred miles per hour.
"I'll miss you," she said. "No matter how short a time you're gone."
Emmett and Rosalie exchanged an apprehensive glance.
We were almost to the turn off onto the long drive that led to our home.
"Drop us here," Alice instructed. I nodded, and the car squealed to a sudden stop.
Emmett, Rosalie and Jasper got out in silence; they would make Alice explain when I was gone. Alice touched my shoulder.
"You will do the right thing," she murmured. Not a vision this time - an order. "She's Charlie Swan's only family. It would kill him, too."
"Yes," I said, agreeing only with the last part. I would have to if he were there.
She slid out to join the others, her eyebrows pulling together in anxiety. They melted into the woods, out of sight before I could turn the car around.
I accelerated back toward town, and I knew the visions in Alice's head would be flashing from dark to bright like a strobe light. As I sped back to Forks doing ninety, I wasn't sure where I was going. To say goodbye to my father? Or to embrace the monster inside me? The road flew away beneath my tires. It felt as if I couldn't make a decision, while simultaneously it felt as if the thirst took the choice away.
Did I truly have a choice here? Was there only one ending to this- Bella, dead, ripped to shreds and drained by a grotesque creature? Broken bones and indentations left on skin that would pillow with bruises had any blood been left? A town left grieving, a father left childless?
I didn't realize where I was going until I pulled up at the small home where Bella and her father lived. Her truck sat in the drive, and I could hear her puttering around the kitchen– cabinet doors slamming shut a little harder than they maybe should have been.
Charlie Swan's police cruiser was absent. She had lied to Mike.
She was alone. No neighbors. No family. I could have my fun and hide her body– somewhere it would never be found. No one would have to see her disgraced in this way.
Now. Do it now. Get out of the car and DO IT NOW!
I twisted in my seat and bit the first thing I laid eyes on. My teeth dug effortlessly into the shoulder of the passenger seat of my car with a tear, and I screamed as loud as I could, frustration escaping from deep within my chest.
I gasped and slammed my foot on the gas, the sound of my tires peeling out squealing through the quiet. Something clattered to the ground in the direction of the Swan house, but I didn't stay around to see what it was.
I couldn't.