Chapter 20: Seasick
I would ask for help if I could explain what's going on. My feet are cold. I can't feel my toes. My forehead is hot. A sheen of sweat has broken past my hairline.
My hands and ankles are swollen. It's like I gained five pounds overnight. The puffiness makes my limbs feel heavy and plump like I ate an entire charcuterie board. What an odd way to retain water.
Everything is sore. I can still feel Edward's unforgiving hands. I can hear the bones cracking and popping at the joints of my fingers and knees. I have to pee.
Am I getting sick? My shoulders feel like they've been touching my neck all night and the room goes spinning as my feet swing from the bed to the wood floor. I would crawl to the bathroom if my knees and wrists weren't so brittle.
My reflection is scary. My face is puffy and my eyes feel tight. I peer closer into the small bathroom mirror. How hard did Mike hit me? Maybe a hot shower will make the swelling go down. Maybe the steam will fog my memories of Edward and what we did.
When did the water become so loud? How did my hair get so tangled? When did I get so stupid?
He did this to me. He did this on purpose. I fell into his trap. I let him touch me. I cursed myself by going to his home. I didn't put up a fight and now the swelling won't go down. I didn't refuse to participate and now my hands are mitts and the evidence has spread to my feet and ankles.
As the hot water beats down the back of my neck and shoulders, I feel good. I can feel the drowning warmth. I can almost feel Jacob's touch. The way he holds me. The way he runs his tongue along my skin. The way he calls my name and grips my hips.
I can remember the way he looked at me when he slid inside. I can almost hear when he said he'd never let me go. And then I remember he's not here. He won't even call me.
I cry out. I wail in pain from the withdrawal. I grunt in frustration. The water parts my hair and runs down my face. What did I do to deserve this? Is it that easy to forget about me?
The hysteria haunts me my entire shift. The diner seems crowded today. I experience some sort of vertigo trying to balance on the linoleum floor. I feel like a roly-poly doll going port and starboard, table to table to kitchen.
I can barely hear Peg's nagging and customers' orders over the caustic smell of spoiled milk. Something about it makes my nostrils flare in disgust.
My stomach lurches in the middle of making a chocolate shake. The ice cream smells so sour, I almost break the fluted glass trying to make a run for the bathroom stall. I almost miss the toilet. All I had was a plate of french fries.
Maybe it's stress. I'm making myself sick thinking about Jake. Maybe I'm worrying too much about someone finding out what I did on the pier. Someone would've said something by now, right? I'm going crazy with worry.
I think I'm completely crazy now. I almost drove myself to Jacob's house, but my stomach stopped me. I haven't been able to keep much down but that hasn't stopped me from eating either. Do people get hungry when they're nervous?
Then again, my cold, swollen ankles stopped me too. Something about them wobbling at his doorstep made me nauseous all over again. I doubt he'd be home, so who would answer the door? His dad? His brother, Sam? And then what would I say? 'Jake won't answer the phone and I haven't seen him in weeks so could you tell him I'm here?'
Somewhere between rolling out of bed and shoving books in my backpack, I decided going out of my way to be weird and awkward is not something I can deal with. Rejection always feels cold, so I sucked up the lonely tears and wore a sweater and two pairs of socks to school.
I've been sitting in my car for twenty minutes now, realizing I must've been dreaming when I felt anything other than depressed. I'm forced to endure the punchlines of reality like the chill that's waiting for me outside the truck.
I move past the flatbed and numbly walk towards the middle of the school lot. I'm really thinking about just dropping dead. I wouldn't mind being wiped out by one of these cars.
"Excuse me, can you tell me how to get to the principal's office? I'm a little lost." I tightly turn my head and stare back at the smuggest eyes. They appear to be the oddest chartreuse in the typical morning gloom. He didn't bother to fix his bed head or wear his gloves. His jean jacket makes his complexion bluer.
I blanch at the sight of his innocent smile. "Jesus Christ. You're following me." He really can sniff me out.
"No, really I left my shame and decorum at home, so I'm having a hard time finding my way. I was hoping my denim jacket would make this a less awkward experience. I have no sense of direction."
His long-haired brother is in the crawling car alongside our walking figures. One hand on the steering wheel, the other arm hanging out of the window. He's watching with an amused side glance.
"Why is it that you always see me first?" My eyes scope the parking lot for nosy onlookers. "Why did you come here?" We're surprisingly lucky, just zombies with backpacks converging on the school steps.
"You can relax. I don't think Mike will be coming to school for a while." He pushes my hair back off of my shoulders. "I don't know why you bother trying to hide. Somebody's always watching."
"Some of us just want to get through the day. I'm actually praying I'm the only one who sees you right now." I shove my hands in my pockets and survey the lot again.
"It's not about seeing. It's about remembering. There's no need to conceal when you understand how futile and depressing it is to be ignored, to blend into plain sight."
"Yeah, I thought you lacked self-awareness, but it's all for appearances. You don't blend in, ever. That is never your goal, is it? You really are something."
"Says the woman with silky, brown curls and unassuming yet sultry eyes. You could never become invisible. I could pick you out of a crowd of thousands if I had to. How do you think I found you in this lot? You're impossible to ignore. Your presence sings to me."
What does that mean?
Edward grabs the hem of my sweater into his fist. His face bunches up with it until he tugs on the natural fibers, and his expression returns to its usual state, before letting go completely. "Have you given any thought to what I said the other day? Why do you wear these? He gave you these little sweaters on purpose. He's marking his property. He's the one you claim, while I'm the one who saved you."
Is that what Edward sees in Jake's sweaters, possession? Is that why I can't quite grasp the meaning behind the designs and colors. Is that why I can't comprehend the significance of wearing them, why he gave them to me freely. I can only understand the feeling of wearing them.
Its meaning must evolve and grow with the owner. Its perception changes with the observer. Edward can only deduce its meaning from the limited information he's digested. He will never know its complete meaning. He will never understand what they mean to me. This is the closest he's ever gotten.
Jacob invokes an experience, not possession. He's never tried to control my response to his intimacy. But this is sacred and purely between me and Jacob.
Edward doesn't know what he's talking about. Why would you feel bold enough to voice your assumption? "When did you get so loud and familiar with me?" When did things get so familiar between us that you would say something like that to me, that you would touch what you perceive to belong to Jacob?
He takes a step closer. His shoulders feel unguarded and heavy. The tilt of his nose and chin feel exposed to my scrutiny. "When I realized I wouldn't get to you by hiding. It goes against my nature to display my strongest emotions, but I am what I am, Bella."
"And what is that?" I intentionally look into his eyes for something more innate.
"A man who's offering affection from the shadows of perdition. You haven't noticed? I'm keeping the devils down." His green eyes turn olive from the single ray of sun. Like he's picking my bones for the smallest hint of affection. He asks in defeat, "Help me understand you."
I take a cautious step back. "Why are you looking for me this time?"
"C'mon Bella. Don't erase our progress. Today's my first day of school. I bought new clothes. I just figured…"
I turn to walk towards the main building.
"Alright, alright. Just give me a minute." He swings me around by my elbow to face him.
Bile rises to the back of my throat. The saliva is pooling in my mouth again. I feel absolutely disgusting. "You've got thirty seconds before I walk through that door."
"I need you to call Jacob and tell him to refuse a boat's port request. It's coming in next week so he needs to deny entry real soon." His face turns deadly serious.
"Can't help you. I haven't seen him in a couple weeks. He hasn't really been talking to me." I nervously lick the dry patch on my bottom lip.
"Quit playing footsie and call him. This is important. I'm putting my ego aside." His eyebrows raised in expectation.
"He won't answer the phone."
"What the hell do you mean? I don't believe you. In fact, I find that very hard to believe. Is that what he told you to say?"
"I don't know why you think you know the relationship between me and Jacob, but I'm not in any position to call in any favors. Sorry." My feet pick up my usual pace as they move toward the school steps.
Edward whips me around again. I feel a strong wave of nausea and heartburn at the edge of my teeth. "Then he's definitely got someone following you, keeping a close eye."
"Would you stop that? You're giving me whiplash or vertigo. I feel seasick. It's too early in the morning for this shit."
"How many cars drove by your place this morning?"
"How would I know? You're not making sense." My teeth lock and force the vomit back. I jerk my shoulder away from his grasp.
"Don't lie to me, Bella. There are people following us around town. And they're probably keeping tabs on you." He's peering down at me with an urgent expression.
"You're so annoying, like a fucking toaster. You pop up out of nowhere. You leave little breadcrumbs everywhere. And now you expect me to know why you're so burnt out. If anybody is following me, it's because of you. Nobody is keeping tabs on me because I don't know anything. I haven't spoken to Jake. He won't speak to me." My voice rises with my stress level. "What do you want me to do, wave a magic wand? Clean up behind you?"
"Try harder!" His frazzled, angry expression makes me feel even more erratic, out of control, nervous, exhausted. My lips wobble and frustrated tears slip past my lashes. Nobody is hearing me. I've been trying but nobody is hearing me.
"This would all be a lot easier if you just stop trying to protect him." He wipes at my tears with his fingertips. "Right now, I'm really trying to help you. Stop whining and listen to me. It was Sam. He got to Mike first. If Sam gets to the port before your little boyfriend, he'll have access to my family's cargo."
"What the fuck has that got to do with me? That sounds like a 'Cullen problem', not a 'Bella problem'." I wouldn't mind vomiting in your stupid self-righteous face.
"If my father doesn't get his container redirected, he's going to have some major reasons to end the treaty. It means Jacob better do everything in his power to reject that ship if he wants to become the next Alpha."
"What's on that ship, Edward?"
"A container from Italy that's holding a vault, and inside that vault are some very important 'paintings' and 'artifacts', jewelry, typical black market shit. This includes some invaluable pieces that make the world go round. I'll spare you the boring details. Just know we're not always harvesting caviar.
As a matter of fact, Why don't you come with me? Don't you want to know what Jacob's been hiding from you? There's a reason he won't tell you everything. I'll show you things he would never tell an outsider. "
"No. I have classes." The temptation is weak compared to the possibility of Jake never speaking to me again.
"I admire that. You can remain loyal even when it's to your disadvantage. It's all over your face, all the anguish. I hope you come to realize there's no need to play in the dark." Edward's eyes scan the lot for the hundredth time. "I'd feel better if you came with me though."
"Spare me the scare tactics."
"Scaring you into my arms is beneath me. I'm more concerned about the Toyota Camry on the edge of the parking lot."
From what I can see four native guys are piled up in a black four-door with no plates.
"Go straight home after school, Bella."
And I really would've but I couldn't even survive the school day. After four slices of pizza, two muffins, and a jello cup, I couldn't take it anymore. I decide to go to the one place Jake told me never to go back to. If it means hearing his voice again, I'd choose to disobey him every time.
It's something about what Edward said that annoyed me. The feeling of being ignored is weird. It hurts because you're never ignored by the right person.
I skip my last few classes and drive to Anita's bar. It feels deserted so early in the day. It's still just as dark and smelly as I remember. The soaked bartop burns my nose hairs. And the person I'm looking for is nowhere in sight. I feel so out of place and Stevie Nicks singing inside the jukebox doesn't boost my confidence.
Sitting in a cloud of smoke, a cigarette hanging from the side of her mouth, and painting her nails purple is Anita. She's nodding her head to the beat and reaches to take a swig of whatever's in her glass.
Some tables are knocked on their side and some stoles have been broken. One of the pool table lamps is swaying to the music.
"Hey, Anita. Where's Embry? I really need to talk to him." My voice shakes as I notice the broken glass at my feet. I look around the shadows and towards the back for any sign of the culprit.
"Oh, he's out back, Sweetie Belle." Her head tilts in the direction of the alley. "Go on. He's taking out the trash from earlier. Knowing him, it'll probably be a while before he decides to come back in."
What the hell happened here? I nervously step around the splintered wood and shards of glass. My heart starts beating a little harder as I walk further in. I'm not even a foot past the back door before an agonizing scream reaches through to greet me. I chance another step and quietly expose myself to the alley.
Embry's out here with Jake. Jake's here. The scream came from the man kneeling in front of them. A guy in his early forties wearing boots and a motorcycle jacket. The mess inside was from Jake's business.
I can't help the way my eyes light up when I see him. He's even more beautiful than I remember. His hair is down and tucked behind his ears. His brows are in a stressed furrow. His jaw is clenched. His eyes are cruel.
He flexes his hands, his right holding brass knuckles. "It's like pulling teeth with you. I should've brought a crowbar. Embry, do you have a set of pliers?"
"Nah, I've got an ice pick behind the bar though." Embry's thumb points toward me and my heart skips a beat just waiting for him to turn around and make my presence known.
The man's eyes grow into huge saucers."No, please, man! Shit, give me a couple of weeks."
"A couple weeks?" Jake yells in disbelief.
Embry almost drops his cigarette laughing at Jake's comical phrasing. "The guy's got heart, Jake. He even showed up on time. Took a swing at me and everything."
The bumbling man's hacking cough echos down the alley.
"Maybe I hit you over the head too hard with that barstool. Does this look like a two-week extension?" Jake serves another punch to his gut. "Two weeks? Have you lost your fucking mind? Two weeks! I oughta kill you right here. Let me find out you've got my shit sitting in Port Angeles." Jake's voice sounds so different. It sounds lowdown.
"Now this next blow is going to buy you a new dental plan." His eyes are merciless as he's poised to smash his jaw to pieces. "I wanna pry your fucking teeth out for biting the hand that feeds you. Consider yourself lucky."
The man tightly shuts his eyes and waits for Jake to finish him. Before Jake can do any serious damage, I finally call his name, "Jake."
"What!" He reflexively responds. His exposed forearms make his tattoos look angry. He's almost vibrating with rage.
"Jake."
"Ut-oh, Jake, it's your girl." Embry relights his cigarette and takes a long pull.
Jake looks up in shock. He tries to hide his fists behind his back. The brass knuckle flashes at the sudden movement.
I saw the whole thing. There's no need to hide. I still want you all the same.
His dark aura flares in uncontrolled fury. "What are you doing here. I told you never to come here. Get your ass back in that truck and go home!"
"No." Aren't you happy to see me? I'm so happy to see you, strong and unfiltered. It feels so good to be so close.
His head tilts down towards the gravel. "I said go home." He's trying to lighten his tone and soften up but he can't quite conceal his temper. "Now."
"No." I've waited so long to see you, to hear you. I'm not leaving. The fire, the strength, I need to feel it too.
"Walk away!" His voice rumbles and strikes like lightning.
"No!" I don't care if you're angry with me. I don't care if you scream at me.
"No?" As if he can't believe his ears. He turns towards me and dares me to defy him again.
"No!" I match his challenging stare with a dare of my own. You don't scare me.
He swiftly walks up to me and grabs my mock neck collar. He pulls my body back into the bar, swings me around and up against the wood-paneled wall. We stare at each other for mere seconds before the tension snaps.
I kiss him so hard it hurts. Calling this instinct would be simplifying too much. I planned on making him talk to me. I planned on forcing him to answer every insecurity I have. I planned on telling him what happened with Edward. None of it matters at this moment.
How quickly I forgot this feeling. The sinister ecstasy that assaults me. The vicious grip that he has on my lips. His aura pierces through me. Wetness soaks into my panties.
I let him erase the pain that he's put me through. All the pleasure that he's giving me feels like a sacred balm. I can feel his excitement grind into me and I sigh in relief. He still wants me.
"Go home, Bella." He breaks the kiss, disconnecting from our language. "You shouldn't be here."
"Come with me." My fingers grip the hairs at his nape.
"I'm working." The tip of his nose runs along my neck and I quiver in desire.
"Come afterward. I want to see you. I miss you. Haven't you missed me?" I slip my hands under his sweater and past his t-shirt. My nails run up and down his skin. His abs tighten as my fingers slide south. I plead with my eyes, but his are still cold. My throat tightens at the shortened encounter. I blink away the tears from my eyes. "Don't you miss me?"
He snatches me up in a hug so tight and I cling to him completely. I just want you to hold me tighter, kiss me deeper. Please say my name. I want to cling to you even if you don't look my way. "I really need to talk to you. I—"
"Go home and never come back here."
I hope this chapter was a good read!