A/N: I've been so focused on writing this one-shot with Carlisle and Esme (unrelated to this story) that I've forgotten to even write this story! Luckily, I pulled a few later nights and got this chapter sorted out. ALSO – WE GOT OVER 300 REVIEWS! That is so, so incredible that you guys took the time to write all those reviews. Please keep them coming and let me know how you feel/what you think! I know there's a lot of frustration about where Edward is and about the plot and those things will be revealed in good time. As usual, please read the trigger warning and leave me a review! Thank youuuu! Also, yay for the longest chapter thus far!
P.S., keep an eye out for that one-shot of Carlisle and Esme, hopefully will be posting it later this week or next week! I'm having so much fun writing it and it's so cute, which is why I can't quite let it go yet (because I keep wanting to add more to it!).
Trigger warning: discussions of SA/rape, injuries from SA
Chapter 11 – Confrontations (EPOV)
The woods thin as I near the house. My muscles protest the orders of my mind, but they ultimately obey and slow as I see the familiar cruiser belonging to the Chief in our driveway.
The monster within me growls – urging me to keep going, to ignore the situation at my home and hunt. But I need to watch. I need to know what Bella will do. The need to know the state of my heart is just as potent as my need to hunt.
It's probably best you stay away. This conversation isn't for you. Carlisle's mental voice reaches me, despite the distance.
He's in the kitchen – trying to busy himself with warming more peppermint tea we both know Bella won't drink. The task does little to distract him from the conversation outside, even if he wants to give them privacy. He's guilting himself – trying his best not to listen, but ultimately knowing he will be. This conversation concerns Bella's well-being and safety. He needs to recognize the signs of her stress and panic early to help her avoid a panic attack that will terrify Charlie.
I don't respond to Carlisle. He is right – in more ways than he knows. I should stay away – I should always have stayed away. But I didn't. I repeatedly ignored morality and righteousness by bringing Bella into my world and fighting to keep her in it. Every broken bone, bruise, and nightmare tormenting Bella was on my head.
I shouldn't be here. I should be doing what I said I was doing – hunting, finding the monster that swore death on my mate and killing him instead. But I can't bring myself to hunt when such an important conversation is occurring.
My stomach tightens with unease. Whatever comes of this conversation I've brought on myself.
I stay in the trees, like a coward, listening.
"Bells, go to Jacksonville. They have good doctors there, too, so you'd be taken care of medically. I . . . I don't think that Forks is good for you." Go someplace where someone can help you. I can't. God dammit. I can't, Bella.
My chest prickles with something – fear, hope, terror. . .
Jacksonville.
The mere idea of the city made my mind fill with anger. I didn't want Bella there. Thousands and thousands of miles away from me. . . But it was pathetically hypocritical of me to be angry.
I had brought the idea to Alice. I had convinced her to sprout the idea into Charlie's mind. Charlie wasn't convinced at first, but Alice is clever and convincing. Charlie's mind slowly succumbed to a truth that Bella would be taken care of in Jacksonville. Now, Charlie needed to convince Bella.
My chest tightens with pain, remembering how I had to fight Alice.
"You'll drive her away, Edward." Alice had argued. "You promised you wouldn't leave her again."
"I'm not leaving her. She's leaving here."
"It's the same thing." Alice hissed. But she understood with time. Alice usually understood my reasoning, even if she did not agree with it.
Bella needed to be away from Forks. Away from the pain Forks represented. Away from the danger that Forks offered. Any chance Bella stood at survival against this – the demons around her and within her – would be away from here.
So many pieces to place – so many people to convince and be convinced – to get Bella to safety.
"No!" Bella's voice is loud, shaking. It twists my heart with hope. Hope that she'll stay. But that's only followed by anger. If she stays, she'll get hurt. If she stays, she won't heal.
Alice flinches next to me, hating the pain her friend is in. "This is a bad idea, Edward."
"She needs this."
"The last time you decided what was best for her, she almost died" Alice whispers, her voice low. She turns and looks at me, her dark eyes riddled with aching and sadness.
Visions of Carlisle's memories invading my mind. Bruises shaped like handprints, a concussion in her brain, a hole in her lungs . . . Death could have been so close. If Jacob had been delayed, Bella's lung would have collapsed entirely, and she would have died. If not from her lung, her spleen would have bled uncontrollably. She would have succumbed to her internal injuries. She would have died long before Charlie or I came home.
"She almost died. . . Again." I whisper.
Alice falls silent, her lips twisted in a sorrowful way. "There's another way to do this. . ." Alice whispers. But she's wrong, for once. She doesn't know, and neither do I.
This would mean we could hunt without worry until we found him and until we put a stop to the chaos in Seattle. Then it would be safe for Bella again.
"We shouldn't be doing this." Alice says, her head shaking. I shouldn't have convinced Charlie. Edward, stop this.
But she doesn't move – she's rooted in her place. She knew this was right. She knew there was no better way. She hated it, as I did, but she knew.
Charlie's adamant, inspired by the state of his daughter before him. "Bella, please, just listen to me."
"Dad, no. No. I'm not going. I—I can't." Bella sobs the words, her whole body trembles with fear.
Alice steps forward automatically, wanting to wrap her tiny arms around her frail best friend. Her sister. But she pauses suddenly, guilt flooding her mind.
She let this happen. She didn't see Bella was in danger. She didn't protect her friend. She felt as responsible for this as the monster who did it. She convinced Charlie to tell Bella to go to Jacksonville.
I want to comfort her. To pull her into my arms and remind her, freak to freak, that she didn't attack Bella. But my muscles know better than my mind not to move. Had Alice seen the attack at all, I might have been able to get to Bella in time to stop it from happening entirely or kill the monster before he escaped. Had Alice's visions returned, I might have known how to navigate this situation with Bella better.
I couldn't comfort Alice when I was reeling from her absent visions as much as she was.
"No. No." Bella whimpers, shaking her head. Her expression is crippled with pain.
I can't watch this. Alice cringes, turning and disappearing into the forest. This pain – Bella's pain – Alice felt responsible for. I almost follow her – because I don't want to watch this either – but I need to know what Bella is going to do.
Will she leave me and take care of herself? My heart yearns for her to refuse and to stay with me. But another part of me is desperate for her to protect herself, just once, for me. So that I can love her again when this is all over.
"Bella." Charlie's voice is much firmer. My breathing fails, waiting for his words. My chest tightens as I ponder, wondering if these will be the words that finally reach Bella.
"Just listen to me, please. I let you wither away before. . ." He pauses, and I wince as his thoughts recall the zombie-like memories of Bella.
In the worst of her depression, she looked almost as bad as she did now, sans the bruises. The Bella from Charlie's memories shared the same pale skin, sunken eyes, and malnourishment the Bella before us did.
"I know I should have –I should have done something, okay? And I know that now, Bells. I'm going to be the parent now, okay?"
"I'm old enough. You can't. You can't make me do anything. I won't go."
"Damnit, Bella." I hiss, my fist connecting with the tree next to me. I'm too far for Charlie or Bella to hear the groan of the trunk, but Carlisle does. Fury rolls over me.
Why can't she just be selfish one time? Why can't she protect herself one time?
Bella is right, Edward. Carlisle had given up on the tea. She can't be forced.
"She has to go." I hiss. "This is for her benefit!"
"That's her decision." Carlisle reminds me. We can't make decisions for her right now.
"Carlisle," I growl.
"Edward, I respected your opinion before. I spoke with Charlie when he requested my time. As I told him, Bella needs to be where she is comfortable. You know she won't survive this if she isn't with you."
"It's with me that she gets hurt."
Carlisle's thoughts, ever patient, frustrate me. You think so little of yourself.
"This isn't about me!"
Carlisle is unphased by my outburst. "It may seem that way to you, son. But the rest of us have a different perspective. I know I do."
I fall silent, frustrated. Bella is standing now, her body trembling with such vigor she's finding it difficult to walk.
"I think I'm going to lie down." Bella says, her voice trembling alongside her body. She reaches for the door, struggling with exhaustion.
"She's not well, Carlisle." I whisper. "She's getting worse. She needs this."
Going to Jacksonville, where her care will be more limited, is not the solution. Carlisle argues, moving toward the front door. Bella's too weak. She won't be able to walk to the couch on her own.
"You don't know that. It will be good for her." I hiss at him. His thoughts move to Bella, ignoring my response.
"I'll head out, let you get some sleep, alright?" Charlie says, uncertain of what to do.
"Thanks for coming. . . I'll see you tomorrow, right?" Bella turns, eyeing her father. Her voice is full of terror. Charlie nods. "Bye Dad."
I watch through the window as Carlisle catches Bella as her body gives out.
"Dizzy?"
"Yeah." Her voice is weak, reeling from her conversation with her father.
"Take care of her." I whisper. I have a monster to kill.
"Where's Edward?" Bella's voice strangles my heart. I grasp the tree next to me, overcome by the weakness of her voice.
She needs you, Edward. Carlisle tells me. Come home, take care of her.
"No, she needs a doctor." I mumble. I can't do anything for her.
"Edward," Carlisle's voice is firm, full of authority he rarely used. "You don't know what your absence is doing to her."
"She's hurt because of me, Carlisle. I let him get to her. I need to prevent that from ever happening again."
Your absence is why she was harmed, and she'll continue to be harmed in your absence. Carlisle's mental voice is full of conviction. You have more impact being here with her.
I can't response to his thoughts. He doesn't know how wrong he is.
"He isn't home yet." Carlisle responds quietly, though his thoughts are frustrated.
"Can you sit with me?"
"Of course, Bella."
"I'm not going to Jacksonville, Carlisle."
I close my eyes, my body dropping against the tree behind me. "Oh God, Bella." I mumble. My chest feels light with relief. . . I was happy she was refusing. Of course I was. She was my mate. I couldn't stand to be away from her too long. "This isn't good for you, Bella." I whisper to myself, against my happiness.
Jacksonville was safe. Forks is not.
What more could I do, besides putting her on a plane myself? The thought makes my body ache.
I couldn't do that to her. I couldn't do that to myself.
My mind whirls back to the present, hearing Carlisle's voice.
"Perhaps you can visit Jacob and his friends. You used to spend a lot of time with him."
"No." my voice is firm and rude. My eyes fall into a glare as I look to the house.
Carlisle ignores me at first, conversing with Bella before finally acknowledging my anger. They helped her Edward. We can't change that past. They helped her when we left her.
I want to correct his statement – when I harmed her.
Bella's friendship with Jacob was stronger than I could imagine. Strong enough that it healed the deepest wounds I had left in her. Strong enough, that despite the dangers that the wolves posed and the scars they had left in their wake, Bella loved them and cherished her time with them almost the same way that she cherished her time with us. She danced around the topics discussions about safety with them, but defending them with her entire heart – the way she defended my own family to them. In return, they healed her, they helped her, they protected her. They did for her what I failed to do.
"You can't possibly send her there." I hiss at him. But the topic has been closed already. They're talking about something else now.
"Bella, I wish you would let me give you something for your headache. Even some Advil." Do you know she is still refusing medicine, Edward? That her headaches have increased in their severity?
"I know." I respond quietly, my fists clenched at my side. "She needs a doctor, Carlisle. You're a doctor."
"No." Bella responds, her voice slurred in her exhaustion.
"No medicine. But one day, I'm going to need you to start trusting me again."
"I do trust you. . . What were you reading earlier?" Bella's fighting her sleep, as she usually does. She fought sleep when nightmares plagued her in the nights after our return from Volterra. I thought she had moved past that, until she was attacked again. Then the nightmares intensified in gravity.
"Descartes. A book on philosophy."
"I haven't ready anything in a long time. Edward used to make fun of me about my book choices."
I smile automatically, remembering the way I once teased her for her love of Heathcliff and Romeo and Juliet. Young tales for an innocent mind. She wasn't that innocent anymore. The world had tortured her greatly.
"Read to her. Her favorite book is Wuthering Heights." I tell Carlisle. I can't hide the pain in my voice. I want to run to the house and pull her into my arms. But I can't. I want to be the one to read to her, but I can't. "She doesn't sleep well if it's too quiet."
I don't know why I say the words. Carlisle knows better than I do. He's taken care of her more than I have recently. I don't tell him that she sleeps best when she hears the tune of the song I wrote for her. I don't want Carlisle to assume my role so fully.
It will be more beneficial if you are the one reading to her. Leave the others to hunt. Take care of your mate.
"I am taking care of her." I whisper, trying to quell the fear within me that Bella may slip from my grasp if I don't find this monster fast enough. "I am protecting her."
Carlisle turns his focus to Bella, knowing he's said what he can to me. He has his copy of Wuthering Heights in his lap, out of Bella's view.
"Would you like me to read to you, Bella?" He flips open the book, knowing her response already. "Wuthering Heights, it is."
His voice changes as he's reading, filling the room with a tone more relaxing than one I had heard recently. He's holding the book, his eyes following the words though he didn't need the physical text to relay the story to her. His memory was impeccable.
I watch Bella drifting, slowly, attempting to evade the exhaustion that plagued her mind and body.
As much as I want to, I can't bring myself to go inside. I want to hold Bella in my arms, to hug her body to mine, inhale the sweet scent of her blood. . . But I can't be there with her, watching her sleep while my fingers trace the bruises on her face and neck. I can't wait for her to twist in her sleep, whimpers turning to cries and to panic as nightmares plague what should be time resting. I can't be with Carlisle, listening to his thoughts remark on the numerous ways to treat her physically and mentally.
Carlisle is only a few pages in before Bella's eyes close and breathing softens.
"Come inside, son." Carlisle closes the book, placing it on the table. He reaches for the TV, turning the volume to a muted level, serving as background stimulus for Bella to sleep more comfortably.
I do as he asks, only because his mind is strong with his vehemence. Carlisle does not get angry – not in the time I have known him.
Carlisle sits where he is, refusing to move even as he watches me hesitate in the doorway. His hand is on Bella's, her fingers gripping his even in her sleep.
My eyes flash to Bella's resting face and then to Carlisle's. He's watching me, his expression calm, his thoughts irate.
"It's difficult, isn't it?" He asks, his voice level. "Seeing her hurt this much."
"I have things to do, Carlisle."
He taps his finger on the books in front of him. "As you have told me."
"Then why am I here?" my words are sharper than I intend, but I don't feel enough regret to take them back.
"Why are you?" He wonders. Were you hoping she would refuse? That she would stay with you?
Carlisle's words bite into me, and I look away from him. I never wanted to be away from Bella for long – perhaps me coming here was to ensure she wouldn't leave.
What was I prepared to do if she did agree to go to Jacksonville? Would I try to convince her not to go? Would I secretly follow her there, hiding in the shadows to watch over her?
"This," Carlisle nods towards Bella's hand on his. "is not my role."
"She considers you a father."
"She will always be my daughter." Carlisle tells me, his voice isn't harsh, but it makes me flinch. She will be his daughter no matter what I do. Whether I lose her or not.
My eyes fall to the girl asleep. Her skin is marred with bruises I didn't protect her from. The man who made those marks is still out, waiting to be caught. My eyes linger on her fingers, holding Carlisle's, my body filled with frustration that I can't be in two places at once.
"I won't lose her." I whisper. I'm not sure who I'm trying to convince. I pull my eyes to Carlisle's – he is still watching me. "You can't send her to La Push."
Edward, they offer her something we can't. Carlisle continues, firm in his belief and unwilling to back down against my anger.
Bella always returned from La Push feeling happy and refreshed. We both knew that.
And it has not escaped my notice that Jacob has not been allowed here by Sam despite his visit benefiting Bella.
"Carlisle, it's dangerous." I hiss at him, my fist coming down on the table. I seem to have very little control over my actions these days, because now I've shattered the table. My eyes fall to Bella quickly, relief overcoming me as I realize I have no woken her.
Carlisle sighs, shaking his head at the damage. Esme had designed the table herself. She loved it.
I can hear Rosalie snickering in the garage and calling me an idiot. She had returned home only moments ago and neglected to give Carlisle and I privacy.
"Just as dangerous as her being here, Edward." Carlisle reminds me calmly. Don't forget the risk we pose to her, as well.
"Alice can't see her there."
"Alice can't see her here right now, either." Carlisle slowly pulls his hand from Bella's, standing to face me. She needs someone to help her through this. I am not sure what is keeping you from her, or what's keeping Alice, but Jacob has tried to be here against his orders. That's telling.
My fists seem to automatically clench at my sides as I listen to Carlisle's thoughts.
"I love her. You know that."
I don't know what is keeping you, then.
My body coils in anger. I wanted to be the one to make her happy, to love her, to protect her. I wanted to be the one to kill the monster that did this to her. To show her my love, to show her my ability to protect her, to make her feel safe once more. I couldn't be in two places at once.
Ultimately, you know it's her choice and not yours. Carlisle decides, staring at me firmly. You cannot control her.
His words have more meaning than just this conversation. I couldn't control Bella – it was wrong, manipulative.
I grit my teeth together, glaring at him. "If they ever harm her . . . If I break the treaty to protect her. . ."
"We'll deal with the challenges as they arise." Carlisle sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Although, I really wish you wouldn't."
It takes a ridiculous amount of my control not to shatter the floors as I walk out of the room, and even more to not attack Rosalie who stood smugly in the hallway with her arms crossed over her chest.
You're marred by guilt. Her mental voice is prideful, but irate. That's why you can't stand to look at her.
"Rosalie." I hiss.
You've abandoned her so much Carlisle wants to throw her to the wolves. You're being a self-fish, self-righteous, delusional bastard. Imagine how Bella would feel if she realized you orchestrated this whole conversation between her and Charlie. Imagine how worthless she would feel that you tried to get rid of her . . . Again.
"Rosalie!" I snarl, my voice loud. Birds in nearby trees squawk loudly as they fly into the cloudy sky. "Stay out of this. You don't know what you're talking about."
"See, there you go again." She laughs darkly, throwing her head back as if I had been rattling off jokes. "I'm not wrong. You just don't know it yet."
"Get out of my way." I hiss at her. "Don't go anywhere near her."
"You wouldn't know if I did." Rosalie smirks, starting toward the garage again. Her thoughts switch easily from her amusement and frustration with me to her car. So easily distracted, so shallow, so cold. . .
I snarl, my fists curling at my sides. Rosalie was delusional.
I whip my phone out, dialing Emmett's number so fast the phone lags.
"Meet me at Bella's house." I hiss. I snap the phone shut before I have a response, heading straight toward Bella's house in Forks.
I'd run this route a hundred thousand times, going to and from Bella's house at all hours of the day and night. I hadn't been there since I left to hunt before the attack. I hadn't ever needed to.
In the days following, I picked up the scent of the monster from Jasper's mind, using it to guide my pathetic attempts at tracking. I had never come across the scent. It was impossible – the rain washed everything clean, leaving the Earth smelling of decaying organic material. But the scent would still be in Bella's room.
It made sense . . . To go back to where it began. To restart the hunt there. It was like a game. The monster in me was full of adrenaline, except at the prospect of tracking and hunting prey.
Or, maybe, it was me trying to remember the pieces of Bella before the attack. Remember the way she slept so easily in her bed, undisturbed by nightmares and fearless of the furniture and books in her room.
I arrive at the house. It made little sense to use the front door when no humans were around to watch, but even less sense to trapeze through the window as I normally did to avoid Charlie. Now, I opted for the door. It was easier.
The house is quiet and humid, damp with lack of use. The mildew smell was settling in nicely in the vacant structure. The warmth that once existed in this house – encouraged by the presence of Bella and Charlie – had dissipated, leaving a cold and barren building behind.
"Edward." Emmett's voice is thunderously loud in the quiet house. You okay, bro?
"I'm fine, Emmett." I was not – my throat burned with a fire that I desperately needed to quench. Not with blood. With something else entirely. Memories of my love or brutal killings of her attacker, I did not know.
I move slowly around the house, following the trail.
Each step seems to push adrenaline through my veins, making the monster within shudder with delight. Each steps seems to deepen my guilt and my misery.
I could smell him. I could smell where he entered the house.
He had journeyed from the front door to the small room that housed the laundry machines. The stink of wet clothes was strong. Bella hadn't finished her load of laundry. His trail continued to the sitting room, settling in Charlie's chair by the window. It was in perfect view of the kitchen. Dishes were in the sink smelling faintly of cheese and bread.
I crept up the staircase, following his scent lightly masked by Charlie's.
I slink up each stair slowly. A predator hunting prey takes time.
"Edward," Emmett sighs.
"The bastard watched her." I murmur, feeling eerily calm. I would destroy him. "He watched her. . ."
Emmett sighs. "I know." I've been here before, man.
I stop before her bedroom door, noticing that it was shut tightly. Charlie must have closed the door.
"Don't go in there." Emmett tells me, his voice hard. You don't want to do that to yourself.
I ignore him, pushing the door open and stepping inside the room. Bella's room – once our haven where we could speak freely under the guise of the night was no longer ours. The scent of her blood was thick, sour with age and exposure. It hardly masked the potent smell of the monster who violated her, or the dog who saved her.
My scent was weak. An obvious testament to the little I had done for Bella in the last few weeks.
"Edward, you need to leave." Emmett insists. "Let's go."
I ignore him, stepping into the room. Her bed – the place where it occurred. She hated beds now. She screamed the last time we put her on one. Now, she sleeps on the couch in my room or the couch in the den. She won't sleep, much less sit, on a bed.
I follow the scent around the room, my fingers brushing against the books he touched. I find myself walking toward her closet, noting with slight amusement that nearly no garments hung there anymore. She must have delayed laundry enough that she ran out of clothes.
I find a small smile playing on my lips. She was so delightfully human.
What do you want to find here? Emmett questions. He's tense, waiting for me to break.
"Leave me, Emmett, if you can't stand to be here."
"I can." Emmett responds, his voice dark. "You can't."
"I'm fine." I touch the rocking chair in the corner, realizing with contempt that he had sat in it. Whether before or after the attack, I did not know. That was my spot. Just as Bella was my mate. Her bed our place. This room our sanctuary.
He had violated more than the girl I loved. He violated many symbols of our love.
Fury rolls through me. The monster in me smiles, giddy with the excitement of killing.
I turn from the room, closing the door quietly behind me, and slipping out of the house. Emmett follows closely behind me as I take off through the thick tress, seeking out the monster.
"Where the fuck are you going?" Emmett demands, frustrated. "You're not going to find anything. We've been roaming these forests for three weeks now."
I ignore him because he doesn't understand it like I do. It wasn't his mate that was watched, preyed on, and harmed. It was mine.
Emmett runs after me, yanking my arm. I turn, snarling so loudly a flock of birds escape into the afternoon sky.
"What?" The word rips from my chest with such force that Emmett takes a step back, his hands raised in resignation.
You're fucking up big time, Edward.
"Thanks for the warning."
"I'm serious." Emmett mutters, crossing his arms. He sighs, leaning back against the trunk of a tree, indicating he has no plans to continue on this hunt with me. I hold back a growl threatening to erupt from my throat, glaring at Emmett. He stares back with a shrug. I have no where to be. I'll wait until you're ready to talk. Plus, Rosie isn't expecting me back for a long time.
He grins, his mind turning to smut, and my glare turns to disgust. He had no shame.
"Explain what I'm fucking up about." I snap, growing angry at his care-free nature. He was wasting my time. I could be hunting – closing the distance between myself and the monster that dared to exist in this word.
Emmett frowns, his eyes narrowed. "Rose is right – you're not even remotely close to hearing it." False alarm. Go on and hunt. He adds cheerily in his head.
"What the fuck, Emmett?" I'm fuming, absolutely enraged with my brother. Emmett chuckles, breaking off a small branch from the tree he's learning against. In absolutely no hurry, he picks at it, pulling little strips of moss from the darker bark beneath.
Yes, Edward. What the fuck, indeed. He was enjoying this.
I can feel the tension growing in my jaw as I glare at him. My mind blinks back to Bella's bedroom, to the decaying scent of her attacker, to the bruises he left on her skin. . .
Emmett flicks the branch toward a tree to my right and I can hear the way the tree groans in response as the branch splinters into thousands of pieces.
All I want right now is to just get my hands onto something. Onto Bella's attacker. Onto her rapist. I can feel my muscles sing as I imagine wrapping my hands around his limbs, breaking his bones. Pummeling his ribs until they punctured his lungs and spleen. Twisting his wrist until it broke. Smashing his head into something so he feels just an inkling of the pain Bella felt when he violated her. And then, after letting him suffer, finally snapping his neck.
Maybe then some of this rage would go away.
"You're going to crack your own damn teeth." Emmett chuckles eventually.
"Can I hunt, or will you continue mocking me?" I hiss at him.
"You should be home with Bella." Emmett tells me, his voice firm. "Jasper and I have got this. We've combed through that house. We know his stench. We'll find him."
I laugh darkly. "You're kidding, right? I can't let him off."
"I never said that, dude. I said Jasper and I would take care of it."
I scoff, turning my back to him.
"She's my little sister, Edward." Emmett mutters, his voice echoing the pain in his thoughts. "You're insane if you think Jasper and I won't make him pay."
"You don't understand." I hiss.
Emmett grimaces, glaring. I really do have a lot of experience with this, Edward. He yanks another branch of the tree, cracking it easily in his fingers.
I feel a bout of guilt, realizing just how dismissive I have been toward Emmett. Rosalie's past is scarily similar to Bella's now.
Although, Carlisle can easily argue the same thing. Esme had her own bouts of sexual abuse in her marriage. In her early days with Carlisle, Esme struggled to differentiate between the sexual abuse she suffered at the hands of her ex-husband and consensual sex. To her, it was all the same because Charles was her husband and it was his right to have sex with his wife as he pleased, as she was always taught growing up. With Carlisle, she felt the same way at first. I tried to allow them to work through that trauma is private, but their thoughts went unguarded at times and information I shouldn't have known slipped through.
"Rosalie has been occupied hurling insults at me whenever she has an opportunity. There is no reason to bring her into this."
Emmett is quiet for a long time, and I wonder, and severely hope, that the topic is closed. Then, we can get on with our hunting. The hunter within me can find satisfaction, and I can return to Bella.
"You treat her like she's a fragile doll, Edward. You treat her like she's made of glass that'll shatter if you touch it. Like she needs to be put on a pedestal and worshipped from a distance, but without any harsh gazes." Emmett says, his voice frustrated. It's pathetic.
"Did you see her?" I can't control my voice now, or really anything. "Did you, Emmett?"
"Trust me, I've seen my share." Emmett mutters in response.
"She's fucking broken." I scream at him. "She can't move without being in pain. She can't even sit or walk properly right now. She is fragile in every way possible."
"No, she's not!" Emmett snorts back.
I hate the way his voice is mockingly calm and level compared to mine. Emmett is the temperamental one in the family. He's the first one to explode with anger or frustration. He's the one who got worked up about the treaty line with the mutts. But now in this moment, he was level and calm and I was unpredictably volatile.
"Edward, she only has the vaguest idea of what really happened to her that day. She doesn't understand because you've kept her innocent all this time. She's as ignorant as Rose and Esme were. The way you have been behaving with her is. . . You're making her feel more like a victim, you're coddling her. . . She needs more from you."
I can't help but wonder where all of these words came from. Emmett is not usually the one who has these conversations with me. Either way, the words he is saying do not help calm me, they only aggravate me further.
"Worse than that, you're hurting her more." Emmett mutters. "You're so volatile. . . unpredictable. . . You're not thinking with your brain."
"Enough." I snap at him when he pauses.
"Damn it, Edward. That's another thing." He points a finger at me accusatorily. "You just get fucking angry at everything. We ask you to feed, you get angry. Carlisle asks you to force Bella to eat something, you get angry. Bella has a nightmare, you get angry. Eventually you need to figure out that anger is not making Bella better and anger isn't making it easier for us to help her. Jasper keeps saying that she just expects you to be angry, always. She fucking expects it now, Edward."
"Emmett!" He falls silent, listening to me. "Bella was raped, you moron. I can't do anything about it. That monster is running around somewhere, and I can't do anything. She'll never feel safe until he's dead."
"No, you'll never feel content until he's dead." Emmett corrects, shaking his head at me. I see something flicker in his eyes, anger, perhaps. "Bella doesn't give a damn about his. She had no idea we were even trying to track him and when she found out, her first request was that we stop. If you think tracking him is to save her, you're fucking lying to yourself, man. You're sending Jasper, Rose, and I out here for you, not for Bella. If it was for Bella, you would have told her the very first time we all went out. You wouldn't have kept it from her."
I have no response to Emmett except to snarl at him, turning my back towards him. It was absolutely immature, and I can hear the slight amusement in Emmett's thoughts, but I'm so unbelievably frustrated that I don't care.
Emmett sighs again. "You're angry, we get that. But what's done is done, you can't change the past. But now, all you're doing is condemning both you and Bella to relive it over and over again."
"You don't know what you're talking about." I regret the words almost immediately and even more when I see Emmett's expression change from determination to help me to pure anger.
"Jesus Christ, Edward." He finally mutters, and I have to applaud Emmett for responding calmly when I know I deserve much worse. Emmett exhales loudly, taking in a much deeper breath than he would ever need. "I don't just think that Rosalie is right, Edward, I know she is. She had to go through this too, and so did I. One day, you'll need to hear it, even if today isn't that day."
"Stay out of this, Emmett." I snap at him. "Whatever you dealt with through Rosalie, know this is different."
"It's not." Emmett responds quietly. "You abandoned her today. You abandoned her yesterday. Every day you're out here hunting or you leave when you get angry with no explanation to her – every time you do that, you're pulling her recovery and your relationship away from her."
"You don't know what this is like."
Emmett grimaces, and I realize again I've invalidated his experience with Rosalie. I can't care much – my mind too focused on wanting to hunt. Emmett's mind tormented by rage he wants to express. "Bella is my little sister, Edward. None of us protected her. Not a single one of us, and we're all doing something about it. But you're doing the wrong thing."
"You don't know what the right thing is. No one does."
"Change her, Edward."
A violent snarl erupts from my chest. "Go fuck yourself."
"I'd rather wait for Rose." He chuckles. Then he pauses, my snarl interrupting his inappropriate and misplace humor. "Change her."
"Why?"
"Why not?"
"She doesn't deserve that."
"Doesn't she?" Emmett muses. "You gave her one requirement – have a human life. She did that, man. She did it, and now her life is done. She doesn't need to live this life anymore. Take her away from it."
"I can't take her from her parents, Emmett."
"She barely talks to her mom. Charlie's strong – he'll be fine. But she needs this. She doesn't deserve this anymore."
"You want me to kill her?"
"It's not death." Emmett snorts.
"I'm not humoring this conversation."
"Why not?'
"I have better things to do."
"Right." Emmett rolls his eyes. "By all means, go destroy your fucking relationship. For the second time. Go on. See how many times Bella will risk her life to save you before she stops, Edward."
"Emmett." I hiss, pinching the bridge of my nose. "You didn't see Rosalie when she was changed. You think it will be better, but it won't be. Her grief won't be gone. It will be heightened. What if it manifests as thirst? What if it manifests as anger? We can't control her as a newborn."
"You're doing a bang-up job controlling her as a human, you'd do a fine job with her a vampire."
"Are you even listening to me?" I snarl, my hand slamming into the tree next to me.
The noise of wood splintering infuriates me. It should be the monster's head, not the tree, my hand is connecting to.
"Do you think Rosalie became a vampire, killed those monsters and was immediately content? You sincerely believe that Esme was happy when she woke up? Esme woke up to Carlisle telling her she had another chance at life, but everything she wanted – her baby, her life, her family – was gone and she could never have it again. She had to live eternity without her deepest dreams. They were distraught, Emmett. For years. You forget that I know more than everyone else. Everyone seems to forget that. Every single time Carlisle changes one of us he fights himself over morality. It's hypocritical for you all to detest me for doing the same."
Emmett is silent, waiting for me to continue, knowing I'm not done.
"Rosalie was in pain for years. Her entire life was destroyed in one night. She hated Carlisle. She was going to die, and she was furious with Carlisle for taking that from her, from something she was so at peace with. Even after she found you, you know it took her time to trust you. That was twenty years after she was changed! After twenty years, you still had to deal with her grief. We're still fucking dealing with her trauma. And Esme. . . Esme was finished. Esme had chosen death. Rosalie was forced into it in the worst way, but Esme came to it herself. Do you think Carlisle didn't feel guilty every time Esme has seen a baby or felt grief about her own? Do you think she wasn't weary of Carlisle and I after what her husband did to her? Or do you think she immediately adjusted to this life and never gave her old one a second thought? That her and Carlisle immediately started their lives together? That she never wished for death again?"
I'm screaming, gasping for air I don't need. Anger is rolling off of me in such intense waves that I wish Jasper was here with me to calm me.
"I don't know that. No one does, except you. Which makes you the most equipped to be with Bella and to help her through this."
"I can't." I wince, turning away from him as I admit it. My stomach twists. "I can't be with her. Not now."
"Why?"
It takes me a long moment to answer, to force my pride and arrogance deep enough to speak. When I speak, my voice is exasperated and angry and frustrated. I don't know how to feel. "Because I can't see her like this!" My jaw clenches as I raw my fist into a tree. "Dammnit. I can't see her like this."
"Why, Edward?"
"I know more than the rest of you." I hiss. "It's all Rosalie could think about when she first turned. It's what Carlisle sees in his ERs. I can't stand his thoughts – how he remembers fixing these women, seeing the damage these men have done. . ." I laugh darkly, spitting it out in such a choked way my chest twists. "Esme lived with it for so long she didn't know right from wrong anymore. I can't think of Bella like that."
"She's hurt, but she's not gone."
"They feel no remorse." I hiss, laughing bitterly again. "They feel pride. For how they kill women. For how they violate them. For how loudly they make these women scream in pain." I snarl, disgusted, remembering the men I'd killed. The monsters. The ones who preyed on women while I preyed on them. "Knowing Esme and Rosalie's mind as well as I do, I can't see Bella like that. I can't see her suffering, knowing what he did. Rosalie and Esme didn't have anyone to protect them, but Bella did, and I failed her."
"Edward,"
"I've experienced it through Rosalie and Esme." I whisper darkly. "It's not the same – it won't ever be, and for that I'm grateful. Their memories are so vivid. So full of pain and agony. I can't watch her struggle knowing I can't help and knowing I'm letting a monster walk free. I can't think about what she went through. I can't think about the thoughts I know are going through her mind and the nightmares she's having."
Emmett swallows thickly, his mind a flurry of pain for his sister and for me. "That's the thing, Edward. You have to. For all the reasons you just said. You know more than the rest of us. You've experienced it through Rose and Esme. You have seen Carlisle's thoughts with the women he's treated." He clenches his fists at his side, overcome with anger for a moment. "It's not that you have to do this. It's that you get to."
I stare at him, eyes narrowed.
"Rose was all alone for twenty years, so much so that she trusted a stranger to love her. Esme knew death was better than life, which is why she picked it. But Bella doesn't have to go through that. You can protect her from that."
"I don't know how to."
"You've never tried to learn." Emmett responds. "Go home and sit with Bella. She's hung on this long, so clearly she's figured some stuff our by herself. You'll figure the rest out with her."
I stare at my brother. His expression is adamant. His thoughts are furious but controlled. He'll keep hunting. He and Jasper will search, and I will care for my mate.
"Go." He tells me, begging. "Don't let her suffer the way Rose and Esme did."
