Sorry for the delay. It's been a stressful week.
Big thanks to Fran for beta'ing and to Mr G and Me and Monica03 for pre-reading. You're awesome! (And all mistakes are my own.)
SM owns everything Twilight.
I can't keep still, no matter how hard I try. My leg bounces and my fingers tap against the Formica surface of the breakfast table, clicking with each pass. One eye is kept on the clock, which is moving too slowly in my opinion.
Has time always moved like this? What. The. Hell.
I try to control my erratic movements by stopping as soon as I'm aware of them, but the curious looks from Rose and Mom tell me I'm not succeeding. They keep their thoughts to themselves, which I'm incredibly grateful for; I have no idea how to explain my behavior without Mom taking me back to the doctor's office for a second opinion.
Dad and Jasper seem oblivious but annoyed as I make unnecessary noise so early in the morning.
Shifting, I tightly cross my legs to keep my legs still, and I fold my arms over my chest to keep my twitching fingers silenced.
Stealing another look at the clock, I sigh a little too loudly when I notice no significant amount of time has passed. Rose raises a single eyebrow in question and my shoulder jerks upward as I look pointedly away.
I need to keep my cool before Rose says something, though now I figure it's only a matter of time.
I just want to go. Now.
I didn't argue the other day after Mom said I shouldn't go to school. This was mainly because I had gotten my answer. I did see Edward at my house; he all but confirmed it when he mentioned my fall.
Plus, it was school. I wasn't going unless I didn't have to.
Now, I have more questions for Edward, like why was he at my house so late, peeking in my windows?
Normally, I would have stretched my injury out for a few days, but I can't do that. My burning need for answers had me up before my alarm went off this morning and eating breakfast before Dad's first cup of coffee.
When it's time to go, I'm waiting by the door, my foot tapping in an irregular rhythm against the floor as I wait.
Rose slowly walks toward me as Jasper talks with my parents in the kitchen, their gentle voices hard to hear. If I know Jasper, he's questioning about whether or not I'm okay; and it's not because he's concerned.
"Hey. You okay?"
"Yeah. Why?"
She shakes her head, watching me with cautious eyes. "No reason. It's just … you seem eager to go to school."
"I'm not. It's just …" I want to share what I've found out, but until then, I need more answers. I try to think of an excuse to pacify her curiosity and blurt out the first that comes to mind. "I want to get this project done. The sooner, the better."
Rose hums, raising a brow and pursing her lips. There's a heavy silence hanging around us as we stare at each other, both of us unwavering. I don't blink until she looks away, calling for Jasper as she shoulders her backpack. He walks in slowly, coming to stand next to his sister, his eyes never leaving my face.
"Do we need a priest? Or is she a pod person?"
He's such a smartass. Although, if I were in his position, I would ask the same thing.
"The two of you and horror movies, I swear!" Rose mumbles. "Come on."
We say goodbye to the parents and head out to the car, while I try to ignore Jasper's staring.
I last until we make it to the car before saying something.
"What?"
"What's up with you? You've been different since the other night."
I shake my head. "I just want this project over with."
Like his twin, he doesn't look convinced. He stares at me for a long moment, eyebrow raised and lip pursed like Rose had looked moments earlier. "I know you; there's something else going on."
Rolling my eyes, I get in the passenger seat. He's not completely wrong; I want answers as to why Edward was being a creeper. Apart from that, I haven't lied. I want this project done and put behind me.
Moments later, we pull into the parking lot of the school. Jumping out of the car, I sweep over the area, but Edward is nowhere to be seen.
I do, however, spot his siblings.
Alice and Emmett stand twenty feet away, leaning against their car as they talk quietly. If all else fails, I can ask one of them where he is.
Seeing the intense look on their faces and their stiff postures, I decide to ask them later. My pace slackens at my name and Edward's being mentioned in the same sentence. Looking over at the pair, I note the deep frown and distressing look in Alice's light golden eyes. My feet falter underneath me as I spin around. In an effort not to fall, I grab hold of the cool metal of the railing, my muscles screaming in protest.
Hissing, I shake my arm and mumble a goodbye to my cousins.
Rose looks quizzical but doesn't say anything. She stares at me for a moment before nodding and walks ahead, disappearing behind the steel double doors. Jasper pauses, looking between Alice and me questioningly. I quietly tell him to go ahead, and after a moment of hesitation, he does.
Alice gives a tight smile as I walk toward her, but rolls her eyes at her brother who whispers something to her. She waves him off with a flick of her wrist, and he presses away from the car, murmuring something to her before jogging toward me … or rather, toward the entrance of the building.
"Hey, Bella. Bye, Bella."
"Bye," I reply, heading toward Alice.
She meets me halfway; one of her hands resting on top of her bookbag, her nails picking at the seam of the rectangular carrying strap.
"Hey. You okay?" I question, eyeing the purple skin underneath her eyes.
"I should be asking you that. You weren't at school yesterday. Everything okay?"
"Yeah. Minor issue. It's good now."
"Good," she replies.
The smile she gives me negates her tone, and I repeat my original question.
"Fine. I'm just …" she trails off, waving a hand through the air. "It's a whole bunch of things."
I nod, knowing the feeling.
I want to ask if she's upset about Edward since she obviously was talking about him, but before I can ask, she poses a question of her own.
"What are you doing next Saturday?"
I pause, trying to decipher the rush of words that came from her. When they compute, I blink, trying to think of my plans for the next week.
"Oh, I'm going to do my hair."
Her eyes light up in curiosity and a touch of excitement. "Can I do it? I've never dyed someone's hair before."
I hesitate, not wanting to seem rude. Having no experience coloring hair and doing multi-colored streaks is something difficult to do for your first time. I didn't even get good at it until recently. Normally, I have my mother help, or I go to the salon in Port Angeles.
Seeing my hesitation, Alice laughs. "I don't blame you for being hesitant. Do you want to come over to my house afterward? We can watch movies, and I can show you more of my photos."
"Sure."
She grins brightly and does a little jump. "Thank you! It's going to be fun!"
Reaching into her bag, she scribbles something on it and hands it to me. "My cell number," she explains.
Nodding, I put it into my phone and call the number, so she has my number as well. She grins brightly, her fingers flying over the screen as she adds me to her contacts.
The first bell warning bell blares overhead, and I mutter a curse. "Crap. I still have to run to my locker."
"Me too," she replies, sprinting inside along with me.
I get my things and exchange a goodbye with Alice. I can only hope to catch Edward outside of our class. Something tells me he won't be too forthcoming if there's an audience … if he'll be forthcoming at all. But I'll get it out of him.
Rushing through the hall, I skid to a stop at the sight a few feet in front of me.
Rose and Emmett stand close to together, where only a sliver of light pours between them. Emmett is speaking to Rose with a serious look on his face. Her head lolls on her shoulder as if she's not listening to him, but I can see the hard look on her face.
In the next moment, Rose straightens, her jaw clenching. She says something through tight lips before spinning around and stomping into the classroom behind her.
"I know more than you think!" He calls after her, his eyes trained on the doorway she disappeared through, a deep frown on his face.
Looking closer, I notice his eyes are dark, and his lips are pressed tightly together. Seeing me approach, he schools his expression into a more jovial one.
"Hey, Bella."
His words are cheery, but I can detect an underlying tone of melancholy. I eye him suspiciously, wondering why he looks so miserable and angry at the same time.
Is he upset because he keeps getting turned down? Do I have to worry about him? My instincts are telling me no, but you can't be too sure.
"Everything okay?"
He shrugs with a smile. "Peachy. Everything is great."
I hum and nod, not believing him in the slightest.
His expression falters slightly, but he keeps smiling. Before I can ask him anything more, he tells me he has to get to class and walks away with a wave.
Something odd is going with those two … and it has more to do with Emmett's persistence about taking Rose out on a date.
Maybe I'll ask her about it.
Unfortunately, I can't ask her anything now, and if I don't move it, I'll be late to class.
To my dismay, Edward is already in his seat, his posture rigid. His eyes flicker over to me as I walk in, and I can't help the smile that grows as I think of our encounter yesterday. He cocks his head to the side, his golden-brown eyes narrowed. After a moment, he shakes his head and looks away, concentrating on the blackboard.
Glancing toward the clock, I wonder if there's enough time to talk to him. A second later, I get my answer; the bell rings, and the teacher walks in, closing the door with a firm click.
Twenty minutes into the lesson, there's a commotion from the back of the room, and everyone collectively looks at the source of the disturbance. Edward lurches from his seat and gathers his books in one sweep, rushing to the front of the room.
The teacher looks up, startled. "Mr. Cullen! Sit down!"
"There's a family emergency," he says, his hand on the doorknob. "I'm leaving."
The teacher says nothing and Edward takes that as his cue to leave. His eyes meet mine for a split second, and I stare at him just as intently as he's staring at me.
I think about our encounter from yesterday, and the same question keeps repeating itself in my mind as if I can push the question at him mentally.
Why were you there?
The indifference in his eyes changes to frustration and worry, and soon, an unsettling feeling invades my body like lightning. My stomach flips, and I take a deep breath, trying to shake off the ominous sensation crashing over me.
Breaking eye contact, I focus on my hands, noting the slight tremble in my fingers as I run my fingernails over the coarse edge of the spiral notebook.
The door slams closed as he leaves, and a second later, the room erupts in a wave of noise.
Shocked gasps, whispers, and indignant huffs fill the room as people either wonder what exactly happened or complain about how Edward thinks he's so special he can simply walk out. I roll my eyes at all of them, though I am curious as to what happened.
If the feeling simmering in my gut is anything to go by, it can't be good, and it makes me wonder why I have such a bad feeling over something regarding the Cullen's.
Sure, I don't want anything bad to happen to them, but I've never felt this way over someone else's problems before; especially someone I can hardly get along with.
Shifting straighter in my chair, I attempt to focus on the teacher bringing the class to order and push back the apprehension hanging over me.
The Cullen's problems have nothing to do with me.
Maybe if I repeat it enough, it'll sink into my subconscious.
8*8*8*8*8*8
Apparently, Edward isn't the only one who left in a rush during class.
Alice and Emmett had done the same thing Edward had; only they didn't stop to talk to the teacher. They sprinted from the room, shouting family emergency over their shoulders.
By the end of the lunch, everyone had their own theories about what had happened. None of them were the truth; you could tell in the way the stories were told or how many details were added to them. The only story I believed is the one Jess relayed to me.
Outside of the cafeteria, she had approached me with a cautious, barely there smile, and asked if Alice was all right. It was then she told me of Alice and Emmett's sudden departure. I answered her honestly, confessing I didn't know a thing, but I would pass along Jess' condolences for whatever crisis Alice was going through.
Jess thanked me quietly and scurried off to the library, where she preferred to spend her lunch.
I had texted Alice shortly after talking to Jess, disappointed she wasn't there. In the short amount of time I've known her, I've come to really enjoy her company.
Jasper joined me briefly at the start of lunch, telling me what he'd heard and asked if what Edward did was true.
I rolled my eyes and confirmed it, knowing he wouldn't stop until he got the scoop. He left soon after, no doubt to listen to the gossip and talk about his own findings.
When the end of the day rolls around, the chatter hasn't stopped. Every other person I've passed in the hall seems to have the inside scoop through one of the Cullens. Each story is different, and each one I hear makes me roll my eyes so hard I'm surprised they're not stuck looking at my brain.
My phone buzzes as soon as I turn it on, and I find Alice's message waiting for me.
Thanks for the concern. Everything is okay. Just a slight scare; nothing too serious. Talk to you later! ~A
I type back a quick response, tempted to ask her if she can give me her brother's cell number. I highly doubt the number he gave me is his personal number. I just don't see that happening.
Now that I know everything is fine, I want my answers.
But which is better? A phone call or talking face to face?
Deciding a face to face meeting is better, I pocket my phone and gather my things, but they immediately fall onto the floor as my shaky hands are unable to hold them. I can hear scattered laughter from around me and I sharply jerk my head upward with narrowed eyes, chuckling when they look away.
The gloomy feeling from earlier starts to slither its way up my spine. Taking a deep breath, I push away the feeling as I lean against the locker, reminding myself that I'm being silly.
I repeat this for a minute before releasing a breath. Slowly, the feeling abates, and I laugh once more, shaking my head.
What is going on with me?
I need more sleep and a few stress-free days.
Out in the parking lot, Rose is waiting in the car, pensively staring out of the windshield as she drums her fingers against the steering wheel. There's no indication she sees me walk up until I open the passenger door and slide into the seat.
She jumps, breathing out a laugh with a hand over her heart. "Geez. I didn't see you."
"I figured." I pause, questions about what I had seen earlier between her and Emmett on my tongue. She gives me a small smile, her gaze focusing on my shoulder unblinkingly.
Even at lunch, she was this way, brooding and distracted as if she's trying to find a solution for a difficult math problem. It makes me wonder what Emmett said to her to make her this way.
Only one way to find out, I suppose.
"Everything okay?"
Her eyes snap to mine, and she nods once in a jerky movement like she doesn't have control over her body.
"Yeah. Why?"
I shrug a shoulder. "No reason. You've been distracted since this morning. Did Emmett do anything?" Her eyes widen as I speak, clarifying my statement before she thinks I've been spying on her. "I saw you two talking this morning outside of your class."
Her mouth drops open in "o" as she slowly nods. "Yeah. He's just …" she trails off for a moment, thinking. "He said something that made me think about the choices I've made, that's all."
"In regards to going out with him?" I question, hoping she'll shed light on the situation.
"Surprisingly, no. He hasn't done that in a while. It was … other stuff."
She doesn't elaborate, and I don't push her for more, even though I want to. She's not offering it, and I know better than to press her. Until she's figured what she needs, I have to beat down my curiosity and focus on something else.
Like Jasper.
Peering out of the windshield, I look for him in a crowd of people, wondering if he's running late or talking with his friends. I spot him a minute later, chatting with Ben and Tyler and nodding his head, an excited smile on his face.
Sensing my stare, he looks over and holds up his index finger, in the universal sign that means 'wait a minute.' About a minute later, he jogs over to the car, leaning down so he can address Rose as well.
"Hey, I'm going to hang out with Ben and Tyler at the arcade. I'll catch a ride home with them, okay?"
"Did you text Aunt Renee and Uncle Charlie?"
He gives Rose a look that clearly says, 'What do you think?' but nods anyway before waving goodbye, leaving us to head home on our own.
The sight of Dad's cruiser in the driveway has my palms sweating and my heart thundering in my chest. My mind runs rampant with the possibilities of why he's home so early, and none of them are good.
Unsnapping my seatbelt, I hear the metal hit the window with a loud clink as it bounces off the side.
Rushing from the car, I slam the car door and race up the steps, hearing Rose rush after me. I expect her to say something about the mistreatment of her car, but her eyes are intent on the house.
Throwing open the door, I race into the house, immediately spotting Dad in his recliner, his left arm wrapped in blue plaster and an array of bruises coloring his upper arm and jaw.
"Hey, kids. How was school?"
Rose and I exchange astonished looks before looking back at him, mouths gaping.
"'How was school?'" I repeat, "Really? That's not important! What happened to you?"
Dad waves his uninjured arm in a dismissive motion. Unable to contain myself, I grab that same hand and squeeze tightly, sighing in relief. He's alive; he's here. "Oh, just a little accident at work. I wasn't paying attention and took a little tumble. It's fine," he replies.
The way his voice hardens and his jaw clenches tells me it's anything other than fine.
"Are you sure? Why didn't you text us?" Rose asks, sitting on the coffee table near him.
"Because we knew you'd worry," Mom says, ambling into the room. She meets my eyes for half a second, but it's all I need; her eyes are red and puffy, and her cheeks are a blotchy pink. I have a feeling something other than a simple fall occurred.
"Okay, what really happened? You look upset, Mom," I say, following her with my eyes as she comes to rest on the armrest of Dad's good side.
He pulls her closer to him, resting against her side. In turn, Mom wraps an arm around his shoulder, leaning her head on top of his, her hand gripping the shoulder of his shirt in a white-knuckled grip.
The energy in my body drains, and I slowly sink on the floor, resting on my knees. I will my heart to calm, reminding myself that Dad's okay.
"Of course I was," she replies with a light laugh. "Someone called to tell me my husband was injured at work. I thought the worst." She pauses, leaning over to kiss the side of Dad's head. "Luckily, I was immediately reassured as soon as I got to the hospital."
"Really, girls, everything is okay. I'll be sore for a few days, but I'll live." Dad reaches over and pats Rose's hand once. She forces a smile and nods once, her eyes shiny.
"Are you sure?" Rose whispers brokenly. "The doctor checked over everything thoroughly?"
I nod in agreement, watching Dad's face closely.
"Everything is good," he says, making sure to look us both in the eye. "I promise. I wouldn't lie about this."
"Yeah, I know. I'm going to … um, go upstairs. Shout if you need anything, okay?"
Mom reaches for Rose's arm and whispers something in her ear as she passes. Assurances, I'm sure.
Rose doesn't do well when any of us are hurt, especially Mom and Dad. I'm sure it brings up too many painful memories.
Rose nods at whatever Mom says and heads upstairs.
"Are you sure everything okay?" I press. "You would tell me, right?"
"Of course, but you really don't need to worry," Dad replies.
Standing on trembling legs, I nod once. "Okay, sure," I reply, not believing him in the slightest, but I let it go. He's here and alive; that's all that matters.
Dad reaches forward to stop me with his injured arm and scowls at the plaster. His face is dark as he glares at the cast. After a moment and a gentle nudge from Mom, he focuses on me.
"Sweetie, I'm being honest. I'm fine. You don't need to worry, okay? I'm fine. Sure, I'm a little sore and a little pissed that I have this," he says, shaking his injured arm with a wince. "But I'm fine. I promise. You know if I weren't, I wouldn't keep it from you."
I nod and murmur about going up to my room but stop as Dad calls my name. "Yeah?"
"I finished looking into everything from other night. Spoke to the neighbors; they didn't notice anything, but a couple of 'em had security cameras that caught some parts of our house."
Leaning against the entryway, I raise an eyebrow. "Who was it?"
I'm extremely curious as to what he'll say. I know what I saw, but I wonder if Dad found something else. It would be very funny if Dad did find evidence it was Edward peeking in our windows.
Maybe that was the family emergency.
Dad jerks a shoulder up. "There was no one. Nothing abnormal on the videos except animals, which is probably what made the tracks I found. Waylon was accounted for, and I highly doubt Edward would be lurking around here. Are you sure your eyes weren't playing tricks on you?"
If Edward hadn't said I hit my head, I would honestly believe I was just seeing things. It was late, I was tired, and it was dark. However, since Edward did mention my injury, I know without a doubt he was here.
I just have to figure out why.
What I'll do afterward, I don't know, but I'll figure it out. I always do.
8*8*8*8*8*8*8
The Cullen's are absent from school the rest of the week. It's just two days, but that doesn't matter. For me, it's two days of delays.
For everyone else, it's two days of sunshine, warmth and the enthusiastic possibility of going to the beach without freezing. Their excited gabbing completely filters out the gossip of the Cullen's rushed exit in the middle of class, their minds on something else for a change.
In an effort to distract myself and pass the time, I continue to work on the project. The teacher gave us an extension on the deadline, so luckily there's a little bit of wriggle room. I work on the project anyway, wanting there to be plenty of time to make changes and corrections once everything is done. There's always something I want to change afterward, so this gives me plenty of time to perfect whatever I need to.
There are still questions to be asked about putting the presentation together, and I swallow back my reluctance and email Edward since he's not at school. Surprisingly, he answers back quickly, answering my questions thoroughly.
More than once, I'm tempted to ask him my personal questions, but refrain. Instead, I work on my half, putting together a rough draft of the presentation and making notes throughout the process.
On Saturday morning, I can't help but snicker when I look out of the window.
Dark, thick clouds hang in the sky, threatening rain. I guess Lauren, Mike, and their horrendous horde will have to find another way to entertain themselves.
On the plus side, they're not polluting the water, so there's that.
The house is quiet, a good sign my parents and Rose are most likely out, and Jasper is still sleeping. Things have been a little hectic since Dad's accident. Jasper panicked about Dad's injury when he saw it, prompting a comforting discussion between the five of us. Rose has been hovering over all of us, and I still find myself checking on Dad more than normal.
He takes it all in stride, though, knowing our concern is coming from a good and loving place.
Thankfully, things have calmed as the days have passed, so there's not a layer of panic and worry shrouding the house.
A light thump from the window garners my attention, and I notice the tree branches swaying gently from side to side as the wind blows. With its movement, loose leaves escape, swirling through the air before slowly falling to the ground. A few of them hit my window, the source of the noise.
Leaning toward the glass, I sigh with contentment. The leaves are starting to change colors, their rich green slowly transitioning into beautiful reds, oranges, and yellows. My fingers itch to draw this moment, but one look at my art supply has me frowning.
My pencils are worn down and broken, and to be quite honest; I could use a new sketchbook. My current one is almost full.
Deciding a trip to Port Angeles is needed, I get dressed and head downstairs, seeing Rose isn't gone as I thought. She's at the kitchen table, surrounded by books and papers, her hair in a messy bun on top of her head.
She does a double-take when I enter the kitchen, her mouth falling open at my early appearance.
Well, early for me anyway and it hasn't been by choice.
Lately, my sleep has been disturbed, much to my annoyance. I've been having strange dreams that seem to revolve around one person … Edward.
The dreams are disturbing on a lot of levels; we're either screaming at each other before he kills me or we're making out. I can handle the dreams where he's killing me, but I'm not sure how to handle the fact that a part of me likes the other dreams. A lot.
"Has the world ended?" Rose jokes, breaking into my thoughts.
"Nope. Just reformed," I reply, yawning and stretching. "I'm your new leader. Bow down and worship the ground I walk on."
She rolls her eyes, seemingly annoyed, but there's amusement there that's hard to hide.
"What are you doing up so early?"
"I need to go to Port Angeles for some art supplies. Wanna come? You can visit Vera or something."
Her eyes light up at the idea but quickly dims. Shaking her head, she runs a finger along the edge of the textbook in front of her, heaving a sigh. "I'd love to … you have no idea, but I need to study. I have a major test coming up, and I don't know the material at all. I'm going to fail."
I roll my eyes. Rose knows the material; she's smart. Otherwise, she wouldn't be in advanced senior-level classes with the option to graduate in January instead of June with the rest of us.
Although seeing her workload, I can understand her doubts and I'm thankful I passed on the chance to graduate early with her. That is just too much work and stress for me to handle.
Mostly because I'm too lazy.
"I won't even go there. Is Jasper up yet?"
"Probably not," she says, her attention back on her books.
I had expected as much, but I decide to ask him anyway.
My knock on his bedroom door goes unanswered, so slowly I open the door with my eyes closed, not wanting to get an eyeful of something I'll need therapy for.
"Jasper?"
Receiving no reply, I open one eye at a time and find the room empty and quite frankly, messy as all hell.
I thought my room was bad, but Jasper's has nothing on mine. Clothes, shoes, books, and even a few dishes are scattered on every surface; the bed, the floor, the dresser. It's a complete and utter disaster.
It's no wonder he leaves the door closed.
Walking back into the kitchen, I point my thumb behind me, directing it toward Jasper's room.
"He's not in there. Did he leave a note?"
Rose looks as puzzled as I feel and shakes her head, rising from the table and going to look for herself. I know the exact moment she's seen the mess because she curses loudly and slams the door behind her.
"Disgusting," she spits. "Ugh. How can he stay in there?"
I laugh. "My room isn't that bad. It's practically organized compared to that."
"You know what, I'm inclined to agree," she mumbles, pulling out her phone. She taps her foot on the floor as she waits for him to reply. A second later, he does, his voice crackling through the speaker.
"Hey."
"Where are you?"
"In Port Angeles with the guys. Why?"
I frown. Why hadn't he asked me if I wanted to go? I don't want to hang out with his friends, but I could have hitched a ride and saved on gas by taking one car.
Rose's thoughts are the same wavelength, asking him why he didn't tell us.
"First of all," he begins, annoyed. "I told Uncle Charlie and Aunt Renee. They came with me and dropped me off a couple of hours ago. They should be home already," he pauses before speaking again. "You're not my keeper, you know. I don't have to run all of my plans by you."
Rose rolls her eyes and starts to argue, but I interject before they get into a bickering match. "Why didn't you ask me if I wanted to go?"
He's silent for a moment before answering, his tone repentant. "Sorry. I just wanted some time to myself for a bit."
I get it, and I don't fault him for it. "It's cool."
"How are you getting home if Aunt Renee and Uncle Charlie dropped you off?" Rose questions.
"They took your car in to get new tires, remember? I'm driving your car back."
Her lips purse in thought, but she nods. "Fine. Don't wreck it and fill up the tank."
"Yes Ma'am," he sarcastically drawls. "Anything else?"
"I just worry about you. About all of my family," she whispers.
A beat passes. "I know … but Rosalie, you can't control everything and everyone."
Rose stares off into space, her lips pursed. I don't know what she's thinking, but it doesn't seem like happy thoughts.
There's a few seconds of silence and then shuffling, and muffled voices carry through the phone. Jasper murmurs something before speaking louder. "I gotta go. I'll be home in a few hours. Bye."
Seeing time is getting away from me, I grab my keys and purse, preparing to head out.
"You okay?"
Rose nods once, a jerky movement that doesn't look human. "I'll be fine," she mumbles.
"Okay," I draw out the word, walking backward. "I'm gonna go. I'll see you later. Don't study too hard."
"Where are you going?" my mother questions, walking into the room, my half-asleep father trailing after her, a paper cup clutched tightly in his good hand.
"Port Angeles. I'm getting some art supplies and stuff."
Mom gazes between me and my father, her bottom clenched between her teeth.
"What?"
"I want you to be very careful, Bella. Don't go off into parts of the town that seem … isolated."
I chuckle lightly, astonished at Mom's words. I may be a fool at times, but I'm not that much of a fool. "I wouldn't do that anyway."
Dad takes a loud gulp of his coffee. "I know that, but don't follow anyone into isolated areas either. If something doesn't seem right, call the police, okay? There've been more reports of people disappearing. It's spreading, getting closer to Forks."
A coldness spreads over me, but I push it away. "I have my pepper spray, and I still remember my self-defense moves. I'll be fine."
"I'm sure you will. You're as tough as nails," my father says, taking another gulp of coffee. "Just be careful anyway. Don't go off on your own, especially in areas you don't know."
"I won't. Promise. You have nothing to worry about."
"Never thought I did. But if I don't at least try to warn you and something happens, I'll look bad," Dad teases, kissing the top of my head. "Have fun."
"We'll probably be gone when you get back," Mom informs me, kissing my head as well. "Your dad is pampering me today; he's taking me out to lunch and a walk through the park." Her eyes and smile match her excited tone.
"Sounds fun. Will you be here, Rose?"
"Don't know," she answers, not looking up from her books. "Depends on how this studying goes. I want to run some errands; I'll let you know if I go."
"All righty then. See ya, guys."
"Be back in a couple of hours!" Dad shouts.
I give them a wave from over my shoulder and hop in the truck, heading toward my destination. I make sure to obey the speed limit because the last thing I need is someone reporting back to my father that I'm driving recklessly.
Again.
I swear, one time I go a few miles over the speed limit and I get caught. Okay, it was nearly forty miles over the speed limit, but still.
Before heading toward the art store, I make a pit stop at the corner cafe, where Lauren is standing in line. I wait her out, not wanting to deal with her drama and inane insults. Once she's disappeared around the corner, I slip inside and order a tea before rushing back out again. Lauren has a habit of pounding back coffees like they're going to stop making them and I'm in no mood to deal with her.
With my tea in hand, I head to get my art supplies. As I browse the aisles, I pick up the things I need along the way, making a mental list of what I would like to have but I'm not going to buy at the moment. I need something to put on my birthday and Christmas lists.
As I browse, I spot one item that catches my attention immediately. A leather-bound sketchbook with a thin strap that ties all the way around from the back to the front, so it essentially 'locks' the journal. It looks somewhat similar to the one I've seen Edward carry around, but it's a little larger and fatter than his.
Skimming my palms over the cover, I shiver at the cold buttery smoothness of the material, my fingertips tracing the swirls etched in the corners of the book. The sides of it are rough and jagged due to the thick paper it contains. Taking a quick peek inside, I see how it opens fully to lay almost flat, which would be a good thing if someone were to draw a large picture.
Deep down, I know I have to have this, and it's something I'll definitely treasure. I'll use it for doodles and more serious artwork, knowing this book would never leave my sight. However, taking one glimpse at the price tag has my eyes bulging and me gently replacing the sketchbook on the shelf like it's on fire. There's no way I or anyone I know can afford something like this, and to be quite honest, I would never ask someone to pay this much for a sketchbook.
Dejected, I pay for my purchases and walk around, window shopping. I make a few lists of things that catch my eye for family members and myself, jotting down the store name as well. I know once it comes time for Christmas shopping, I won't remember where I had seen what, so I make good notes.
In the reflection of the glass at a hippy-esque store that screams my mother, I spot Lauren with a guy who isn't Mike. She's laughing and hanging all over him, obviously not watching where she's going, and she's headed my way.
She bumps into my shoulder, knocking me slightly into the glass, which causes the people inside to turn and stare. After a moment, they resume their previous activities, interruption forgotten.
I'm touched by the care and concern they give, checking to see whether or not I've been injured by some psycho wielding a knife or a gun.
Lauren continues on, still hanging on the guy at her side, oblivious to what she's done. They come to a stop at a building two stores down, which is, unfortunately, the direction I'm headed.
I get closer to them and see the real reason why they're stopped. They're pressed against the brick building, feeling each other up and eating each other's faces. A few people walk by, disgusted much like I am and ushering their kids by quickly, hoping they don't see the obscene display.
Just as I start to move past them, a kid on a skateboard comes flying by, sipping a slushie from an open cup. Unfortunately for him, his skateboard hits an uneven part of the sidewalk, and he falls to his knees, tearing the skin there. His drink is thrown in the air, landing all over Lauren and her new boy toy.
Mostly, it's all over Lauren, soaking her pink top and changing it into a grotesque mauve color. Her hair sticks to her face and neck, globs of the icy drink slithering down her face and onto her chest.
She shrieks, flinging off the offending liquid with flailing hands. The kid responsible tears through the crowd, his laughter roaring over the sounds of traffic. The guy with her muffles his laughter with his fist, but she either ignores him or doesn't hear him.
Lauren's eyes immediately find mine and narrow into slits. With a grunt, she marches toward me and points a finger in my face. I recoil as the slush flies off her and toward me.
"I know you did this, you bitch."
"I can honestly say with sincere disappointment; it wasn't me. But it was funny as hell to watch," I reply with a laugh.
"I know it was you."
"It really wasn't."
"Sure," she scoffs. "You're the only one who has it out for me ... and I saw you earlier today, walking around. Since then, everything has gone wrong for me. So, how are you doing it?"
Before I can stop it, a laugh bubbles from my lips. "You're not serious, are you?" Judging by her blank, expectant look, she is serious. "Okay," I draw out, rocking on the heels of my shoes. "Wow. You are giving me way too much credit here."
"I don't think I am. I've had so much go wrong today. First with that drink being tossed all over me," she says, a disgusted expression on her face. "Then my makeup is sold out, and the shirt I really wanted isn't in my size. The only common thing here is you. My day was going fine until I saw you."
I can't believe she actually thinks I had something to do with anything that's happened to her today. Seeing a golden opportunity, I'm not going to confirm or deny anything. I'll let her think I'm responsible. That way, she'll drive herself up the wall trying to figure out what I might do next.
The ultimate revenge without having to do anything. Psychological torture is my favorite kind.
"Yeah," I say, grinning. I walk backward, away from the situation in front of me. "Imagine that. It's almost like you're cursed, huh? Besides you just being … you know, you?"
A strange combination of a grunt and a screech emits from her throat. Her hands ball into fists and she takes one step toward me, but the guy behind her reaches for her, tugging her away.
"Take a pill, Lauren," he mutters, leading her away in the opposite direction.
I roll my eyes at her as she gives me a parting glare and continues on her way. I stop inside a few more shops, buying a few shirts and pants I find on sale. On my way out to put the bags in the truck, I spot Jasper's blond hair across the street, and I start to make my way over but pause when I see his company.
Alice stands in front of him, a small smile on her face as she speaks. Jasper doesn't appear to say anything; he merely stands there, a dubious expression on his face as he listens.
When she's done, he says something in response that causes her face to fall and her shoulders to slump forward. A pained look crosses Jasper's face, and he says something more, which doesn't appear to be good news if the looks on their faces are anything to go by.
I take a step forward, wondering if I should go see if everything is all right, but the decision is made for me a second later. Emmett walks up and speaks to Jasper, who nods and turns to walk away. Alice frowns up at her brother, but nods and looks behind her in the direction of a woman with curly red hair standing ten feet away.
Alice and Emmett hurry toward her, disappearing into the crowd seconds later.
With them gone, I look in the direction where Jasper had gone, hoping I'd still see him nearby. I want to see if he's okay; clearly the conversation he had with her wasn't a good one.
However, I'm disappointed to find he's nowhere in sight.
Oh well. I'll talk to him at home.
My stomach growls and my mouth waters as the rich smell of freshly cooked fries invade my senses from the small, fast food restaurant next door.
Unable to resist, I head inside and quickly eat, depositing my trash in the garbage on my way out, heading to the car.
"Bella?"
Arthur, Lauren's cousin, walks toward me, his eyes lit up behind his glasses. He pushes his hair out of his face, but it's no use; it falls right back, obscuring most of his face.
"Hey! I thought that was you."
"No, it's someone else named Bella, who looks exactly like me."
He laughs. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything."
"Not at all. How's your mom?" I ask before the silence can carry on too long.
He looks surprised by my inquiry, but it quickly morphs into a small smile. "Pretty good, thanks. She has her medicine and seems to be doing well after the surgery. Her doctors think she'll be released soon."
"That's good. I hope she'll be okay."
"Me too." He pauses for a moment, swallowing nervously. "Would you like to get a drink or something?"
Someone calls my name before I can answer and I huff, recognizing who it is immediately.
Boy, I'm popular today.
I smile pleasantly at Arthur. "Hold that thought."
Turning, Edward stands a foot away, his eyes boring into mine. The questions from earlier invade my head, and I can't wait to ask them. Unfortunately, it won't be now.
"Edward."
"Do you want to schedule a time to finish the project? I have my half of the presentation done."
"Yeah," I reply, cocking my head to the side as I notice his eyes darting back and forth between Arthur and me. "Just give me a few minutes."
His eyes flash with annoyance. "Fine."
Rolling my eyes, I turn back to Arthur and pull him a couple of steps away when it's obvious Edward isn't going to move.
I glare at him over my shoulder, wondering what the hell his problem is.
"I'm sorry. I forget things sometimes," Arthur says, looking away at a random spot along the street.
I take a moment, wondering what he's alluding to, but I can't think of anything. "What do you mean?"
"Your boyfriend." He nods his head in Edward's direction. "I forgot you were seeing someone."
Vehemently, I shake my head. "He's not my boyfriend."
"Really?" he questions, surprised. "Could have fooled me."
"We're classmates. Trust me; he couldn't care less about what I do."
"I doubt that," he mutters and continues speaking before I can reply. "Can I give you my number then? Perhaps we can meet up for coffee sometime? If you like coffee, I mean. If not, we can have something else … unless you don't want anything to do with me, then I'll leave you alone."
I think about it for a moment before agreeing. Almost instantly, my stomach knots and my hands begin to sweat.
What's wrong with me?
It's not like I haven't dated before. Granted, those relationships didn't last very long, but still, it's not as if I have no experience at all. Maybe it's nerves; Arthur is so nice and sweet, the complete opposite of me. I don't want to unintentionally hurt him.
Whatever the reason I feel so off, I push it away, pulling my phone out and hand it to Arthur, taking his phone when he hands me his. Once we're done, I shove my phone back in my bag.
"I'll text you soon, Bella. See you later."
I smile and nod, waving goodbye. Closing my eyes, I take a moment and collect myself, before whirling around and facing Edward.
Startled, I see he's no longer alone.
His mother stands in front of him, a handful of bags at her feet, and a frown on her face as she speaks to her son. Edward stands there, his eyes cast downward, nodding every so often.
I wait patiently, watching with amusement as Edward apparently gets lectured by his mother. After a few minutes, Mrs. Cullen looks over and smiles, seemingly done with her reprimanding.
"Hello, Bella" she greets. "How is your father doing?"
I blink in surprise. "How did you know about his injury?"
"He came into the ER while I was visiting Carlisle for lunch."
Slowly, I nod. "He's fine. A little sore, but he's doing well."
She smiles and sighs in what seems like relief. "Good."
Her cell phone rings from her purse, and she quietly excuses herself, leaving Edward and me alone. "So," he begins, clearing his throat and running a hand through his unruly hair. "From your email, you seem to have a lot done."
"Yeah," I reply and give a quick run-down of everything I've completed.
Once I'm done, he nods. "When do you want to finish it?"
Knowing that going back to his house isn't an option; I go for the obvious choice. "During lunch on Monday."
He nods. "Fine. See you then."
Without another word, he spins around, heading for his mother, but I race in front of him, not quite done with him yet.
"I have another question for you," I state.
A heavy sigh leaves him. "What?"
"Why were you outside of my house?"
Annoyance replaces indifference as he stares at me. "This again? Wow, you think a lot of yourself, don't you? I told you, I have no purpose to be at your house at any time of day."
I narrow my eyes and clench my teeth together, the muscles in my neck becoming rigid. I take a couple of deep breaths, trying to regain control of my emotions, but it's not going well. Heat rises from my chest to the crown of my head, fueling the fire.
"You're such an asshole," I hiss. "I saw you and newsflash, you all but confessed to being there so tell me why you were being such a creeper!"
"What are you talking about?" He asks incredulously. "How did I admit to being there?"
"The other day, you said I hit my head harder than I thought. How did you know I hit my head if you weren't there?" I cross my arms over my chest, flashing him a smug smirk.
"If you remember, I was visiting my father that day. Your doctor's office is connected to my father's. I heard Dr. Gerandy talk about it with a nurse while he was ordering your tests."
His explanation seems a little obvious. Sure, he could have overheard Dr. Gerandy talking about me; after all, he was in the same area of the hospital. Something about it just seems too off to believe. I doubt the offices are that close together back there, but what if they are? I've never been back there, so I wouldn't know.
I keep my gaze on him for a long moment, looking for any sign that he might be lying, but I see none. My smirk fades, and my posture loosens, but I manage to keep my shoulders straight as I continue to look him in the eye.
Had I made a mistake? Did I jump to conclusions?
Everything within me is telling me I didn't, but how can I be sure? There was so much that happened that night, both in reality and in my head. What was real?
There's no proof of him being there, and his explanation is kind of a good one. At least for now, until I look into this matter a little more.
I shift from left to right, crossing my arms over my chest, struggling to keep eye contact.
Clearing my throat, I stand a little taller. "I'm sorry for accusing you," I tell him, the apology forced out through thin lips.
His lips twitch with a smirk. I know he's going to gloat about me apologizing to him, and I don't want to hear it.
"Well, this has been really fun, but I have to go."
Without another word, I spin around and head to the truck, only stopping when I hear my name called.
Mrs. Cullen stands a few cars over, depositing her purchases in the trunk of her sleek black Mercedes. Walking over, she smiles kindly, though there's a hint of worry in her eyes.
"Is everything all right?"
She turns, finding Edward still standing where I left him, watching us impassively. When he realizes he's been spotted, he turns and disappears into the crowd.
Mrs. Cullen turns back to me, her face expectant.
"Yeah. Everything's fine."
Slowly, she nods but doesn't press. Her eyes drift over my shoulder and light up at what she sees. Belatedly, I realize she must see my bag from the art store.
"Are you an artist?"
"Sort of," I hedge. "I dabble."
She smiles, pressing her hands to her chest. "Well, if you make something, I would love to see it."
A blush heats my cheeks, and I clear my throat, kicking at the concrete with the heel of my shoe. "Maybe someday."
Eagerly, she nods and reaches in her purse, pulling a swatch of paint colors. "Could you give me your opinion for a moment? I'm looking to re-do one of the guest rooms, and I want a nice, soothing color. My kids aren't interested in things like this."
A throat clearing has me turning around, seeing an irate older woman looking at me with a scowl. Her eyes take in my heavy eyeliner and multi-colored hair, distaste prominently on her features. She mutters something under her breath, probably about how wild today's youth is.
I raise an eyebrow. "So sorry, Ma'am" I coo, stepping out of the way.
Humorously, I watch as she pales and scurries away to her car, shuffling past a glaring Esme, following her with her eyes. Once the woman is gone, she huffs, shaking her head.
"Some people. I swear, they have no manners; just because someone is different from what they are, they think they can treat them any way they please!"
I can't help but smile at her rant. "It's okay. I'm used to it."
"It's not okay," she argues vehemently. "There's nothing wrong with you. You look different; so what? It makes you that much more beautiful."
Once more, heat blossoms on my cheeks. Clearing my throat, I thank her, and look through the paint swatches, asking what kind of color theme she's looking for.
She pauses, thoughtful. "I'm not really sure. What colors do you like the most?"
I pick out three colors; navy, mint green, and, dark purple.
I make a mental note of what the purple one is named because I would love to paint my room that color.
She marks the swatches and puts it back in her purse with a thankful smile. "Thank you. You have no idea how much time you saved me!" Glancing at the delicate silver watch on her wrist, she gasps. "Oh dear, I need to run. I need to get home and wrap Carlisle's anniversary present."
"When is your anniversary?"
"Next Thursday," she beams.
"Well, happy early anniversary."
"Thank you." Her arms outstretch toward me, and for a moment, I think she wants to hug me, but instead, she places a hand on my shoulder, squeezing once. "I'll see you soon. Have a good afternoon."
"You too."
She steps away, toward the black Mercedes and Edward walks up then, sliding into the driver's seat with ease. He gives a short but tight smile before focusing on his mother as she gets into the passenger seat. A beat later, he tears out of the parking lot.
I remain rooted in place, shaking my head at his hot and cold behavior.
On my way home, I pass by the movie theater, and my attention is diverted by a sign hanging on the side of the building. There will be a few good movies playing here within the next few weeks, and I make a mental note to ask Jasper or Rose if they want to join me.
The house is noticeably silent when I stroll through the door a short time later. Locking it after me, I spot a note from Rose taped there.
Bella,
I called your phone, but you didn't answer. ANSWER IT NEXT TIME!
In case you come back before I do, I've gone out for some air. Not far, just into town to stretch my legs and pick up a few things. Jasper is still out, and Aunt Renee and Uncle Charlie went for their date but should be back shortly. He was called in to cover a shift for one of the deputies, so he'll be working the late afternoon/early evening/night shift. Behave, and don't burn the house down, okay? Call if you need me.
Love you.
I smirk and throw the note away. Like Jasper, she worries too much … but that's Rose for you. Especially after someone in the family gets hurt.
The silence of the house doesn't really appeal to me. I could put on some music to fill the quiet, but that doesn't seem very appealing either. I need natural sounds and some fresh air.
I grab my new supplies and my sketchbook that's almost full and leave a note for my parents, telling them I'm taking a walk around our house. I head out on the worn path that leads from our back door to the mass of trees behind our house.
As I walk, all the sounds of the forest come to a standstill. There are no birds squawking, no chattering of squirrels or chipmunks … just complete silence. I pause, my eyes scanning over the trees, wondering if there's something else here with me. I listen carefully like my father always taught me to do, and when I hear nothing, I find a place to sit on a fallen log, making sure I can see the house from where I am.
Suddenly, sounds return; it's almost as if someone turned up the volume. The wings of the birds begin to flap rapidly, and little creatures scurry through the leaves. Even though I'm slightly comforted the forest is alive with sounds once more, there's still a strange feeling bubbling within me. Almost like I'm not alone.
Shrugging it off, I look around for something to draw and find a perfect picture.
A few feet in front of me a rabbit comes out of a small bush, his nose twitching and ears moving every which way. Before I can get my pencil to the paper, out of the corner of my eye I see a dark shape dart behind a tree and rush into a cluster of trees.
Instantly, I'm on my feet, hands up in front of me, defensively, my things dropping onto the ground with barely a sound. Thoughts of strangers roaming around my house surface, and I'm back letting my imagination take control, my mind running rampant with possibilities of what they could want and none of them are good.
Even if this is some kid from town, trying to see how much damage they can do before the chief catches them, I'll be ready for them too. Last time, my bench swing in the backyard had been broken into pieces, and I was pissed off like a wet cat. I'm not about to let these jerks do any more damage to my house.
For a fleeting second, my mind recalls those missing hikers, but I don't make any move to run away. My father has taught me to fight well.
"This is private property, asshole. Did you not see the signs?"
I get no response, and I shake my head, grumbling under my breath. I take a few steps backward, stepping further into the wide expanse of the backyard.
Looking over next door, I silently wish for the neighbor's dog to come out. At least she'll make more noise than I ever could. However, she remains inside, most likely sleeping the day away.
A muted thump and the crunching of leaves has me taking a big step backward, scanning over the woods slowly. Soft footfalls, more crunching of leaves and the snapping of twigs from my left gathers my attention. Through the trees, I notice two people running about twenty feet away. I can't make out any of their features, but thanks to a patch of sunlight streaming through the trees, I think I see a flash of blond hair on the taller figure and black hair on the shorter one.
Is that … Alice and Carlisle? That can't be them … can it?
I try to see where they went, but they're too far gone now, and I'm not going that far into the woods. Swallowing thickly, I snatch my supplies from the ground and race back inside of my house.
Dad's voice filters from the kitchen as he quietly converses with my mother, the tone distressed and angry, which isn't a good combination.
"What's going on?" I ask, coming into the room.
Dad glances at me with a forced smile. "Hey. Where were you?"
I start to answer, but I catch a glimpse of the paper in Dad's hands and gasp. He's holding a missing person's report, and the picture prominently displays Kevin's face.
How is that possible? I just saw him at his store a couple of weeks ago … and no one at the store today even looked like something was wrong.
"Kevin is missing?"
Dad nods, knowing my connection with him. He hasn't had much interaction with the man, but they were friendly toward one another. "Disappeared late last week."
"Is it the same person who took everyone else?"
"We're not sure. We're looking into it."
I sit down at the table, listening to Dad's words repeat over in my head. I can only hope Kevin is found safe and sound, drunk off his ass somewhere instead of something more sinister.
"Bella?"
"Yeah," I reply, barely registering Dad's tone.
"Where were you?"
My attention turns to him. "Outside, drawing. I think I saw … I think Alice and Carlisle were in the woods."
"I thought I told you to stay out of there," my father says, his voice stern as he straightens his shoulders. "I told you those people were missing."
"I didn't go in far. I could see the house from where—"
"Semantics, Bella. These woods practically go around the entire town. Stay out of them."
"I'm sorry," I apologize, my face heating from the reprimand.
"You're forgiven. Just don't do it again."
I nod and wait a moment. "Are you going to warn the Cullen's about the woods too?"
"I have," he says. "But I can't control people. Besides, Carlisle and Esme know what they're doing; they wouldn't put their family at risk."
I relent, knowing the truth in his words. Plus, The Cullens, even though most of them are the sweetest people in the world, have a very 'don't screw with me' air about them. I doubt anyone would try anything with them.
"Don't you think it's weird they were so far from the trails, though? I mean, they ended up here. The trails are quite a ways from our house."
He shakes his head dismissively. "It's not so weird. It's easy to get lost in those woods, especially when you're new to the area. They probably saw the light through the trees and thought they were on the other side. They just got turned around. It's happened before."
"Have you … noticed anything weird about them?"
Dad gives me a curious look. "No. I mean sure, they've got their quirks; everyone does. But they're good, respectable people, Bella. That's all that matters, don't you think?"
I nod in agreement. The Cullens are good people, and Alice is proving to be a great friend.
Not willing to allow silence to linger, my mom swoops in and starts a new conversation.
"It's been so long since you've focused on your art, baby. Will you show it to me when you're finished?"
"It's just random stuff, Mom. Nothing important."
"It's important if it matters to you. Besides, you could give me a paper full of scribbles, and I would love to see it."
"You're biased."
"Maybe a little," she says with a wink.
I laugh, shaking my head. "I might show them to you. I'm not sure yet. I have to see how they turn out."
Her tongue clicks against the roof of her mouth. "I'll never see them, then," she tells me dramatically.
Cracking a smile, I shake my head with a sigh. She's not entirely wrong; I can never perfect them to my liking.
"You know," Mom continues, "you could always take them to the art exhibit in Port Angeles. I know your works would be well received."
I do a combination of a shrug and shake my head. She's been telling me this for years, ever since she happened upon one of my drawings. "Maybe."
Rising from the table, I tell my parents I'm heading to my room, but Dad's voice calls me back.
"Remember what I said about the woods, okay? Stay out of them. I'm posting warning signs around town tomorrow, and that goes for you especially."
"I promise. But, Dad, I can take care of—"
"Listen to your father, Bella," my mother interrupts firmly.
"I know you can take of yourself," Dad says. "I taught you well. But you're also my kid and being stubborn runs in the family. For my peace of mind and your mother's, stay out for the time being, okay? Just until this case is resolved."
Their faces are serious and patient as they wait for me to respond. I give them my promise about staying out of the woods and relief floods over their faces. That same sinking feeling in my belly I had when I first heard the news of the disappearances rises again; Dad has never been this insistent about something before. He's been stressed and worried over a few random crimes, but he's never hounded us like he's been doing. Something tells me this matter of missing hikers is more serious than he's letting on, and it might get worse before it gets better.
So, Edward seems to have gotten away with his mistake ... for now. ;)
I hope you enjoyed the chapter!