If you haven't ever heard Rita Ora's song called Grateful,
I'd be grateful if you searched for it on Youtube or Spotify.
Listening to that song while reading the first few paragraphs here
will enhance your reading experience.
I pinky swear.
Thank you, as always, to Di, Paige and Aileen,
who have been here with me through this entire story.
I couldn't have written this without them, that's for damn sure.
Blackbird
Chapter 13
. . . . .
In three weeks, "Blackbird" would be released.
It would be the first time Bella was truly proud of what she was sharing. The first time her heart and soul was in every sound, in every word. She was ecstatic and humbled, and often pinched herself because she couldn't believe her dream—not her mother's—was finally coming true.
She and Liam had been under tremendous pressure to get the new songs recorded, especially when she'd come up with the second one inspired by Edward, by her life. Trey had agreed that it was too good to leave off the album, partly because Bella had threatened to release it digitally pre-album if he didn't include it.
It took them only twelve hours to record "Grateful," an almost impossible task.
Locking themselves in Bella's studio, she and Liam, along with various technicians and engineers set up in the control room, had barely succeeded. It had been the most difficult, the most rewarding process she'd been through yet. It was something she couldn't have done without Liam, who was indeed a patient teddy bear. When she'd broken down into exhaustion and tears, he'd told the most scandalous dirty jokes to make her laugh. And when he'd doubted himself and been ready to call it quits, Bella had hummed his menstrual pad ditty.
Actually, a few notes from that commercial made it into the new song.
Now it was a waiting game as the songs were mixed and mastered for the CD, and new artwork created for the cover and social media promotion. The previous photos of her in provocative poses with Kid Culprit were scrapped for photos of Bella striking a dance pose; of Bella working with Liam at the keyboards in the studio; of Bella singing on stage under a lone spotlight with the stretched wings of a bird behind her back.
That had been one fun ass photo shoot. Probably the only one she'd ever enjoyed.
Three months ago, she could never have dreamed of this day and her place in it. Never in a million years could she have predicted the incredible feelings of validation, empowerment, and freedom. Sometimes it scared her. Was it all going just a little too smoothly? Would people like what she was sharing? Would they be on the same page? And if they did and were, would the success get to her as it had last time?
But Bella wasn't going through anything alone anymore. Alice would help with a professional perspective, and so would Liam. Bella had even reached out to Dani, one of her backup dancers. Dani was both no-nonsense and upbeat, and always ready to meet for a power lunch; she'd help keep Bella grounded. And, Bella could always vent to Dr. Hale when she needed to—there was no more swallowing down confusion, fears, and anger—she let them out.
More often now, though, she'd been letting out cheers of excitement and joy.
Coinciding with her album's debut would be a tour across the US to promote it; she'd begin in Los Angeles at SoFi Stadium, and end at Coney Island in New York . . . as the sole headliner.
Trey, who was indeed contrite over his place in having sidetracked Bella's career and setting her up with Kid Culprit, mentioned that Kid wanted to include the songs the two of them had done in the lineup for his upcoming tour.
Bella could have played hardball and not signed off on her rights to the three songs she'd done with Kid Culprit, making it impossible for him to perform them . . . and she had. For five days, she withheld her consent purely as punishment, making Kid Culprit sweat and pay penance for trying to destroy her. But in the end, she wanted nothing tying her to him. She'd donate the songs' royalties to local Los Angeles mental health charities.
Apparently, Kid had found an unknown singer-performer to do Bella's parts; someone not of her caliber, according to Trey, who said it was all done too damn quickly in order to make it on tour. While it should have filled her with disgust and anger that she'd been so easily replaced, all it did was make her feel grateful she'd gotten out when she had.
Beautiful girls were expendable in Kid Culprit's world.
His popularity had taken a hit, both on the charts and publicly. His concerts weren't selling out like they used to. Bella tried not to feel smug over it, but he'd brought it on himself. Crappy behavior was its own reward.
Her own reward, at least for now, was standing on the stage of the Greek Theatre in Griffin Park, Los Angeles, while being filmed for her video of "Grateful."
Dressed in a long, filmy white gown of scarves that blew back from her legs as a result of strategically placed fans throughout the auditorium, she was singing along to the song that played on the speakers. Two men with video cameras followed her. There were also stationary cameras mounted on poles behind the fans, as well as huge overhead lights that almost made her squint, they were so bright.
Ben, the video producer, wanted her to move freely, to do what felt right, and the cameras would follow, filming her from different angles. The audio wasn't being recorded, just her body and the surrounding area as she moved around the empty theater singing her song.
"I was sinking, I was drowning in doubt
The weight of all the pain was weighing me down"
She took the stairs down slowly, staring off into space as the camera beside her followed.
"Pulled it together and I pulled myself out
Learned a lesson, learned a lesson
That there's a lot you gotta go through, hell yes
But that's what got me strong, I got no regrets"
Now she was moving up through the tiered rows of chairs, the camera tracking at her side, capturing her as she walked past. Then, running against the fan's winds, dress flowing behind her like a flag, she left the camera behind her as she spread her arms wide in front of another camera on a high mount. Spinning back toward the other camera, she leaned forward in excitement as she sang the next words.
"And I've got only love, got no bitterness
Count my blessings, count my blessings, yeah
I'm proud of every tear, yeah
'Cause they got me here"
She sat in one of the chairs like a proud Cinderella sitting at the ball—holding her dress just so, trying to project a tone of confidence as she sang about everything that had gone wrong in her life, and how those things had only made her stronger, made her grateful.
It was liberating, and she was having the time of her life.
They had her do seven more takes, seven more trips around the theater. By the third time, it seemed less liberating, less like a reward; and by the seventh, almost like a punishment. But, Bella kept moving and singing, feeling the words she sang, acting out the emotions. It was an important song for her, and she wanted to get it right.
"Seven takes is nothing, girl," Ben told her as she panted on the stairs leading up to the stage. "We just got lucky that we had so many different cameras positioned around the place. Now we have a few hours of tape to work with . . . hopefully enough to make you shine."
"That's what we want to hear," Alice said as Bella plunked her body tiredly down on the stage, opening a bottle of water, and began draining it.
Ben packed up his TV camera. "We'll get right on this."
"Thanks, Ben," Bella called after him, and he flashed a peace sign back at her.
"Someone's here to see you," Alice said with a sigh and hunkered down beside Bella. The way she said the words was heavy and meaningful, and Bella lowered her bottle of water to look at Alice closer.
"Oh? Who?"
Alice just tilted her head at someone behind her.
Bella turned and felt lightning strike through her veins. In a black T-shirt and jeans, Edward stood on the left stage wing, his hands stuffed into the pockets. His gaze was intense and focused on her.
"Since he wasn't able to reach you on your phone, he's been calling and calling the office line," Alice confided. "I told him where he could find you. I hope this is okay?"
Bella could only nod.
"I'm heading back to the office," Alice said, and hopped off the stage, though Bella barely noticed.
Edward's eyes were smoldering, powerful and yet gut-wrenchingly sad, as he held her gaze. Bella was frozen and sat there drinking him in, noting the slightly drawn look on his face, and the gray under his eyes. He looked so tired.
Finally, he took a step in her direction. As he drew near, she stood as if in a dream.
"You're here," she said faintly.
"I'm here," he said, and his voice was full of meaning. His eyes, his beautiful eyes were soft again, melting her insides, and she felt her stomach flutter.
"I just watched you work your tail off. It was amazing, Bella. No one can say you're a lazy, pampered starlet."
Silent, she shook her head, still feeling a sense of shock at the sight of him.
As he looked down at her, his gaze grew impossibly tender, until it hurt to look at him.
"Why . . . why are you here?" The words almost got trapped in her throat.
He was looking at her as if he loved her.
Which confused and scared her, because the last time she saw him, he'd barely looked at her at all.
Damn him, she wasn't a toy he could wind up and discard at will!
Reading the emotions as they crossed her face, she watched him bite his lip in uncertainty . . . before a look of resolve took over his expression.
"Bella. I know I hurt you. I know I have some explaining to do, if you'll give me a chance."
Before she knew what she was doing, she'd taken two sharp steps forward, drawn back her hand, and slapped him. And she would have hit him again, too, if he hadn't caught her wrist as she raised it again.
"That's for treating me like shit the last time I saw you," she gritted. "I came to you with my heart in my hand. I was hurting and I was alone, and you shut me out. You were so cold. I thought we were at least friends. How could you do that to me, Edward?"
He tried to take her hand in his, but she yanked it away. There was a red handprint on his cheek that she wanted to slap all over again.
"I was terrified," he said, his gaze vulnerable, searching. "You came into my life like . . . a girl bursting through glass. I was used to being in bed by nine, getting up by five to go running on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, and doing weights on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I was used to walking the dog every night at six, used to falling asleep by reading those dry books you saw on my shelves." He bent his knees to stare into her downturned face. "I wasn't prepared for you, Bella."
She glowered at him. "And you blamed me for that? Punished me for that?"
He exhaled raggedly. "What's that saying? You hurt the ones you love the most? I was hurting and I was scared, and I took it out on you. I'm sorry, sweetheart. I'm so, so sorry."
He loved her?
"You love me?" She gasped.
"I do," he replied quietly, firmly.
Rocked off her internal axis, Bella swallowed. She'd been operating under the assumption that he hadn't loved her, and to hear it confirmed he actually did . . . but how could he love her and act the way he did?
"It doesn't make sense," she whispered as the tears gathered in her eyes. "You love me? But you let me go."
In answer, he took another step, then another, until they were only inches apart. He lifted a hesitant finger to her cheek. "I was a damn fool to let you go."
Lightly dragging his finger down her cheek, he moved it to her chin just below her mouth. "I'm sorry I made you doubt what I feel for you."
With his thumb a gossamer touch against her lower lip, he leaned close and whispered, "I love you, Bella."
Lifting her face to his, he dipped to kiss her. His lips were satiny smooth against hers, a soft touch that progressively grew stronger the longer she allowed it. Bella fell against his chest with a gasp he answered in kind, and they kissed feverishly, running their hands across each other's body as if to make certain the other was indeed standing there. She felt his hands grasping at her dress, pulling it tight against her body, the same way she was pulling at his T-shirt.
But all too soon, doubt and reason returned.
"What if you get scared again?" she asked, fighting his hold on her. "What if you don't want me again?"
She'd been so sure she'd lost him on the driveway at his home that horrible night.
He tightened his arms around her, cradling her as though she was a child, turning their bodies gently to-and-fro.
"That's why it took me so long to come to you," he murmured against her temple. "I needed to get my shit together so I'd be completely sure about what I wanted. I'm a logician, Bella, and things have to make sense for me before I act. I didn't think I was capable of falling in love. I also didn't believe I was worth loving—I can be a bit closed off at times, as you found out. It kills me that I hurt you. You're the last one I wanted to hurt." He pressed his mouth against her cheek as he spoke his next words. "Please, please forgive me."
As impassioned apologies went, it was her first. No one had ever apologized to her, and she was nearly undone.
Nearly.
"You saw me on the balcony that night," she said, speaking the words haltingly into his shoulder as he held the side of her head against him. "I was beyond the breaking point; I was awful. But I still had something to give, and you saw that. Somehow, you saw that. You saved me in so many ways, Edward, and I didn't realize it at the time. I didn't really feel it until months later, when I was alone and had to pick up the pieces of my life."
She tipped her head up to him, feeling tears run down the sides of her face. "But just because you had to save me then, doesn't mean you have to save me now. You did your job, and now it's up to me to save myself. You don't owe me anything more, is what I'm saying."
And with that, she stepped out of his arms. Suddenly, it was important that he saw her as something other than a weakling or a victim.
"But if you stay this time, and you leave me again, I will track you down and kick your ass."
He gave her another loving, gentle look, then grasped her hand, pulling her firmly back into his arms. "I'm not going anywhere."
Bella settled against his warmth with another warning. "I'm not kidding. If you pull the same crap again, I will kick your ass. Then, I'll drop you like yesterday's trash."
His arms tightened. "Message received."
"There have been a lot of changes since you've been gone," she told him. "I hardly know where to begin."
"Are you done for the day?" he asked. "Can we get out of here?"
"Yes, I'm done. Am I coming with you?"
Releasing her, he grasped her by the shoulders so he could see her face. "Always," he said. "Either that, or I go with you."
Bella's smile was tremulous, but she couldn't help it. She was filled with joy now that Edward was there, even if she was still having a difficult time believing it.
"You're really here?" she asked, repeating her words.
He leaned close. "I'm really here," he said against her mouth, pressing a kiss there. "And I really love you."
There were the usual paparazzi waiting at the theater's exit, but Edward and Bella were running too fast for them to catch up. As they jumped in his truck and Edward peeled out of the parking lot with screeching tires, Bella laughed.
"You got your windows tinted!"
"Just following your request!" He smiled and laughed.
Bella was about to tell him that she loved him, too, but it occurred to her that she hadn't said the words yet, and she wasn't going to say them now for the first time while he was busy driving.
Now that she had the opportunity, she'd wait for the right moment.
Instead, she gazed lovingly at his profile—those thick eyebrows, proud nose, wide, well-shaped mouth with the divot under his bottom lip, and that unbelievable jaw. With a face like that, he should have been a model or an actor. Not a cop or a politician.
"So, should I call you . . . Congressman Cullen now?" she asked, suddenly uneasy.
Weren't politicians supposed to be family-oriented with wives who volunteered at charity organizations? Not that she wanted to borrow trouble, but what if their jobs became another point of contention between them?
Edward winced, his grip tightening around the steering wheel. Bella's heart jumped into her throat.
"That was more my father's dream than mine," Edward said with a sigh. "It took me a while, but I finally figured out that I really do enjoy being a cop. It matters to me, you know? Making an immediate difference in people's lives. Being a politician would keep me at a distance from the public I want to help."
Bella felt immense relief. She'd just gotten him back, and didn't want anything causing a rift between them.
But if she was in trouble—which she had been, and she'd seen firsthand how capable Edward was—there was no one better at making a difference. He'd have made a great politician, but he was already a great cop.
"How did your dad take it?"
When he looked at her, there was pain in his beautiful eyes, but at least he was smiling.
"Pretty well after the shock wore off, all things considered. It took some time, but I made him see I was determined to live my own life, that I had dreams of my own. There are more ways to help people than by being in politics."
They shared looks of commiseration, both of them understanding the awful pressure of being made to live out a dream for a parent.
For the next few moments, they basked in the other's presence. Every minute or so, Edward would turn just to look at her face, or her body, and Bella's heart would skip a beat at the look in his hooded eyes.
He wanted her. He loved her.
She pressed her legs together, feeling the tension rise.
"I'm sorry I was difficult about your mother," he murmured, lifting her hand to his mouth for a long caress of a kiss. "I was so single-mindedly focused on how she was treating you, that I didn't realize my dad was doing the same thing to me."
In answer, Bella raised his hand to her mouth, pressing her lips against the backs of his fingers. The knuckles looked a little yellowed, as if he'd recently bruised them. She ran her tongue slowly across the bumps, hearing Edward inhale sharply.
"I fired my mother," she said, watching his expression carefully. "After I finally realized she was in the business for herself, not me. That's why I came to you that night; I was . . . feeling pretty rocky."
He glanced at her with pain in his eyes, then squeezed her hand. "I'm so sorry."
"I'm not," Bella said, and her voice was free of pain and anger. "She left, you know. Moved out without a word while I was gone. I have no idea where she is now."
"Jesus, what a selfish—" he gritted, cutting himself off.
"Yes. I know. But with each day that passes, it only becomes more evident that I did the right thing in letting her go. People listen to me now. They want to listen to me," she told him in surprised excitement.
"You've always been worth listening to, Bella."
"But you haven't always listened," she said, referring to the night she'd come to see him at his home.
"Fuck, Bella. I'm so—"
"Sorry, I know," she said. "That's going to take a while for me to get past. Obviously, I never felt that way, felt that I was worth listening to. Everyone listened to what my mother wanted; I might as well have been invisible. No one ever really cared about me until you, Edward, and then you were just gone." She had to pause after those words because her throat had gone tight.
His fingers tightened around her hand, the pain and regret in his eyes feeding her still sore heart.
"At first, I thought something must be wrong with me—that maybe I wasn't loveable, either. I thought I came with too much baggage." She shook her head, releasing a jagged sigh.
His sigh was also uneven. "I hate that I broke your heart."
Bella bit her lip at the remembered pain, which was bittersweet now he was there again.
"You might have broken my heart, but you forced me to be a survivor. I couldn't have written 'Grateful' without you, Edward."
"That was the song you were performing when I got there," he replied in a stunned voice. "I don't know whether to be honored or shamed, but . . . I can tell you've changed. I saw your interview with that reporter a few weeks ago."
She'd hoped he'd seen it. "I'm still me, though."
"Very much so. But stronger. Powerful. And still so damn beautiful."
The heated look he slanted at her exposed legs revealed just how beautiful he thought she was, and she leaned across the distance to press a kiss against his cheek, the silky train of her dress falling against his forearm.
"That night on the balcony seems so far away," she mused. "Almost like a bad dream, really."
Then, Bella grasped his hand in both of hers. It was tough to do while being seat-belted in, but somehow she managed.
"I'm so glad it was you, Edward."
His answering look was both loving and fierce. "Thank God it was me."
Bella was silent after that, letting the sexual tension build between them. She raised a leg, pressing the heel of her foot against the dashboard, and her dress slid back almost to her buttock.
Edward's fingers tightened around the steering wheel.
"Can't you go any faster?" she asked.
He arched his neck one way, then the other. "I can't drive over the speed limit. I'm a cop."
"I bet you drive over the speed limit all the time," she said throatily, making him look at her in surprise. His eyes were getting darker by the second.
"When I'm on a call in the squad car, yes."
Bella lifted his hand to her mouth and bit the tip of his thumb, making him gasp.
"How fast can you go, Officer Cullen?" She ran her tongue across the pad.
"As fast as we can, considering the surrounding traffic and the traffic lights," he ground out.
She frowned. "Bad answer. I want miles per hour, Officer. How fast can you go?"
Edward shifted in his seat and Bella's eyes dropped to his crotch.
There was a definite bulge.
"I've gone as fast as 90 on a city street, and 120 on a freeway. My squad car can go up to 150, but I'm not sure I'm a good enough driver to go that fast, honestly."
"Oh, I'm sure you're good enough," she purred, and bit his thumb again. When she tried to run a hand up his thigh, his hand trapped hers, holding it against him before she could get high enough. She tried to squeeze the muscle she felt there, but it didn't give an inch.
"Fuck, Bella. We're almost there."
Fuck, indeed.
The truck jumped ahead as his foot mashed the pedal. As he took the corner into his neighborhood, the truck's wheels lightly screeched, and Bella laughed.
There were no paparazzi or reporters waiting for them at Edward's house, but he drove straight into the garage anyway.
"I don't want anyone to know where we are," he growled, and Bella sucked in a breath at the fierce look on his face.
"Yes," he said in answer. "I want you."
They raced each other to the door that led into his house. Bella got there first because she was closest to it, but before she could turn the knob, he had her pressed up against the door. Incongruously, they heard a questioning bark behind it, and traded smiles.
"Kiss me," Edward said, breathing it against her mouth.
Bella's hands went straight to his hair, tugging hard, pulling him against her. As his leg rose and came between both of hers, his hands lowered to her thighs, his fingers digging into the bare flesh there.
She moaned as his thigh pressed against where she burned, and he pulled her forward so she could feel his hard erection against her hip.
"I wish I could go slow, Bella, but I can't," he said feverishly against her cheek, his fingers catching hold of her panties. Because the waistband was tiny, he easily tore it from her body. "I have to have you."
"Yes," she groaned against his mouth, their tongues taking turns licking at the other's mouth. "I don't want slow. I want you. Now."
"Fuck. Not here," he gasped, pulling away from her abruptly. Before he burst through the door that led into his kitchen, she saw her panties grasped in his hand.
He spun her around, then he was kissing her again, pressing her against the door from the other side this time. Jake sat on his haunches nearby, an avid audience, and Bella pointed and giggled.
"Jake. Go to your bed," Edward commanded sharply, and his voice was out of breath. "Sorry, boy."
After the dog retreated in umbrage, he turned back around to her. "Wrap your legs around me," he said.
Bella felt the belt buckle at his waist press against her swollen clit.
"Oh my God," she moaned as he moved his hips, deliberately dragging it against her once, twice, three times, before he stumbled back with her in his arms.
The word spun then as he turned and ran with her to his bedroom. Placing her gently on his bedspread, he backed away and tugged at the collar of his shirt. Bella drank in the sight of his carved abdomen as he yanked off the shirt. Then, she bit her lip as he worked at his belt buckle; there was nothing quite so sexy as a man undoing it.
But seeing his long, thick erection spring free as he dragged his pants and boxers down definitely topped it.
"I'm still clean, still have an IUD," she panted, spreading her legs. "I haven't been with anyone since you. You don't need to wear anything."
He groaned, grasping himself and giving his cock a tight squeeze at the base, then ran a hand up to the flared head in a sexy caress.
"I haven't been with anyone either," he said, crawling onto the bed between her legs, the steel of his outer thighs shoving her farther apart and open.
Bella was pulsing with the need to have him inside her again, and arched her body. The last time they'd been this close, her mother had interrupted them, but she was nowhere near them this time.
There was nothing stopping them.
Instead of plunging inside her like she expected, he dragged the head of his cock through her wetness. They both moaned at the sensation.
"I've dreamed of having you here like this again," he told her as he shoved himself against her.
"I've dreamed of being here," she replied in a gasp.
"Dress," Edward said. "Off."
Only he didn't give her a chance to sit up or take it off, he inserted his fingers into the low neck and yanked it apart. The silk tore easily, exposing her breasts and waist.
"You're an animal," she said with a huff of laughter. "Now I have no dress or panties to wear."
In answer, he growled and fell against her, almost wild as their mouths met again. They were moving together so feverishly, so roughly, that he slipped inside her easily.
"Bella," he gasped. "Fuck."
"Yes," she agreed breathlessly against his mouth. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."
He felt so good inside her, so full and tight and right there. After another few plunges, Edward rolled over, pulling her on top of him.
"You can come in this position," he breathed, his face and neck sex-flushed. "Come on my cock."
Bella moaned, pressing the palm of her hands against his strong, hot chest. She was already so, so close.
"Gonna come so hard," she said, her thighs shaking as she ground her clit against his pelvis again and again.
"That's it, baby, that's it," he said, his fingers wrapping around the back of her thighs, the tips just brushing her sex. "Fuck, you're so wet. You feel so hot and tight around me."
"Want you," she groaned back. "Wanted you so bad."
"I'm yours, all yours. Take me."
Take him, she did. Bella was rough and out of control as she moved on top of him, her hands tightening into fists, then unfurling to scratch down his stomach. She wanted to punish him for denying them that for so long.
"Damn you," she moaned as her orgasm began to build. "I love you, I love you, I hate you!"
"Yes, baby, yes," he murmured back, his voice a caress that fanned the orgasm into full bloom.
Bella began shaking uncontrollably, crying out at the power of it as it swept through her body, hitting her in waves.
Below her, Edward pulled her against him once, twice, bucking up into her desperately, then groaning lowly as he spilled inside of her.
It seemed to take them a long time to recover, but finally, Edward rolled Bella off him and to the side. Slipping out of her, he pressed himself against the length of her body. She opened her eyes as she felt the hair brushed back from her face.
"You said you loved me," he whispered.
His beautiful eyes were just a tad uncertain under the happiness she read there.
Satiated and feeling no pain, she smiled softly at him. "I do love you, Edward. With all my heart, I love you, every part of you. Even that cold part of you that tried to keep us apart, that kept us from being together like we just were."
"But . . . you also said you hated me."
Bella swung a fist at his shoulder. "Yeah, because you tried to ignore this! You did, Edward."
His eyes closed in a pained way before he placed his forehead against hers. "I've got some making up to do, I know."
He pressed his lips against hers in a long, closed-mouth kiss of apology, then moved to her cheek. Easing down her neck, his mouth and fingers lovingly brought her body back to life with soft, lingering caresses to her nipples that turned into sharp, quick ones on her sex, giving her another powerful orgasm that turned her limbs into spaghetti noodles again.
"You're really good at that," she sighed afterward. "I might ask you to do it every night."
He kissed the underside of one of her breasts, then tongued the nipple. "I'll do it gladly."
She giggled. "Oh, I wouldn't take advantage of you that way. I want us both to be participants. Always."
Then, feeling that he was hard again, she spread her legs. "You have some making up to do," she told him meaningfully, and with a sexy smirk, he moved over to cover her body with his.
Round three was a damn good start.
. . .
Epilogue yet to come!
