(Seventeen)
"This is a collect call from the Seattle Police Department East Precinct for Edward Cullen. Do you accept?"
" … yeah."
"Connecting."
"..."
"Hello?"
"..."
"Hey, is someone there?"
I redial and get shoved from one idiot to another until a woman at the East Precinct picks up.
"I just had a collect call from someone, but they hung up." I knead the headache pulsing its way across my forehead. "Can you tell me who it was?"
"Hold on." She muffles her nasal voice and takes her time to get back to me. I'm climbing the walls, chasing one awful scenario after another while I wait for her to hurry the fuck up.
After some mumbling and banging around, she returns, though I doubt she's even thought about helping me. "Do you have a name?"
I blow air down my nose in an attempt to divert the curses. Insulting someone working with law enforcement is just above the level I'll stoop to—when sober, at least. "No, they didn't say or I wouldn't be ringing. It was only two minutes ago." I'm associated with so many assholes, but if the first contact for months is a call from a prison they can go jump. There's one name that keeps shoving the other aside, no matter how wrong and out of place it is, that's the one I offer her. "Emmett McCarty?"
"How are you spelling that, sir?" she drones, boredom programmed into her voice.
I manage to tell her without adding extra letters F_U_C_K _Y_O_U.
"He was released," is all I get.
"Why? What did he do?"
"I can't give out that information, sir. Is that all, sir?" She ends with a sigh and a snapping chew of her gum. I think I hear her pop a bubble. I try hard not to launch my phone across the room. Bella has joined me on the arm of the couch, a frown spoiling her face.
"Can you tell me if he's still there? Does he need a ride?"
"I'm sorry, I can't tell you that."
I hang up and immediately call Em again. Still no answer. I imagine it's dead after a night in the cells. What the fuck is he doing? I grab my keys while I give Bella a rundown.
"Do you want me to come with you?" she asks.
"Nah, I just need to check he's okay, then I'll be back." I bend down and kiss her cheek, worry twisting like a dagger to my gut. "I'll call you."
They say the odds of being struck by lightning are 1 in a 3,000. Of dying in a car accident—well, that depends on the risks you take.
The odds of being hit by a train—get off the fucking tracks.
The odds of inflicting your own death—please see above.
By the time I get down to the precinct, I'm still no closer to finding out where Em's gone. I increase my chances by calling in a favor from one of my old drinking buddies. A cop who still haunts the places I've exorcised myself from. Ben hadn't let addiction get into bed with him, though. Not yet, at least. His was already filled with a beautiful wife he didn't deserve.
He calls me back while I wait out on the steps, fingers like ice while I smoke.
"He was pulled for a DUI over on 23rd."
"Are you sure?" I hope I'm hearing him wrong. The thought of Em relapsing makes my skin clammy. My heart pounds a warning. Too close to home. The Em I know and the image Ben is portraying can't be two sides of the same coin. Somebody is shortchanging me.
"Yep, his levels were way over. We're not talking a bottle or two."
"Fuck." I grind out the butt into the dirty, salted slush of the steps. "Fuck." I'm articulate when I want to be. "What the hell is he thinking?"
"Someone from the program?" Ben asks. I hear his kid shrieking in the background, Angela laughing.
"Yeah. My sponsor," I say, and a tide of guilt tries to knock me over, only blame anchors me to the spot. "I didn't have a clue he was close to this."
"Yeah, well, we don't know what we don't know."
"Thanks for that seed of wisdom."
Ben laughs, and I can see the wise guy shrug he's pulling. "You're welcome. Anything else you need?"
"Nah, I gotta try and find him now."
"You got any idea?"
I think of his ritual visits to his old home. "Yeah, maybe." I start to make my way to the parking lot. "Thanks for the heads up. I'll see you around."
"I hope not." He laughs again before the line goes dead.
I can't wrap my head around what's happening without the missing piece. It takes me half an hour to get out to the cozy suburbs where Rose lives: white fences, nice gardens, and all that. The relief when I see his car on the driveway is better than sex. The blinds are still down, though it's almost midday, but I look back to the car again and reassure myself that he's okay, or at least alive. Okay is debatable. I hang around for an hour until I've smoked my pack, then I head home, back to an empty apartment. I call Em a few more times, but his voicemail is full. My reasoning behind not knocking at their door, that they have a lot of shit to talk about, stops me from going back there. I send a few texts and wait it out. I wait for Em, and I wait for Bella.
By the time she's back, my agitation with the Em situation has been directed to her.
I update her on Em's whereabouts. She's more concerned than I thought she'd be, but I tell her not to worry, that I'm giving him space with his family. I don't voice that I'm being a chicken shit about facing the fact that I ignored his calls, and worse, didn't answer the door. I don't ask Bella where she's been all day. The potential answers have already found their way under my skin like shards of glass. I wait while she showers, plucking them out one by one. The monster inside of me tells me she's mine. Mine. Not Sam's. I need her. Not him. Me. It claws at me from the inside out. The same way she did before. The other she. Flammable. Toxic. Suicide. I don't stop to consider the similarities.
"Busy day?" The words are out before she's even noticed I'm sitting on the edge of the bed.
She flips her hair over, water splashing against my bare skin, and wraps a towel around her head, taking her time before she's ready to answer. "I had a few things to do."
"Like what?" I hear the possession creeping into my voice like mold.
"I can't live here forever, Edward. I've got stuff I need to sort out." She laughs and turns her back on me. "I went to see about a job, too."
"Where?"
She spins around, studies me. "What's up with you? You okay?"
I lean back on my elbows to give the image I'm relaxed. "Nothing. Just wondered."
"Hmm," is her response. I hear it as it's meant. And take it too far again, showing her how much I care. Or want. Take it either way.
"So where's the job? Or is it a secret?"
She stalks over, climbing onto the bed, onto my lap, her skin still damp. Her hands push me back onto the bed. Her smile spikes my pulse as the towel around her falls open. She dips to whisper in my ear. "No secrets."
She's not stupid, and neither am I. The distraction technique works for a minute as my body adjusts to hers. "Tell me, then."
She blows a puff of hot air against my neck and pushes against my chest until she's sitting up. The view fills my mind with ideas, pushing my jealously out the door. "It's just at a bar. It's the only thing I could get at short notice."
"Which one?" I ask, relieved when I don't have a history with the one she mentions. Hockleys. And that she doesn't pussyfoot about it. I can handle the mention of a bar, just don't let me in one. And don't let me in one with Bella pouring drinks. I'm harder than ever between her legs now, and she twists her hips. I can't keep my eyes open or my hands off.
"You don't mind, do you?" she asks, but I know she doesn't care.
I shake my head. I don't. Especially not the part of me that's relieved I might have a genuine reason to go back to a bar. Or that I can kid myself it is. "Not at all."
"Perfect," she purrs, and then she fucks all my other questions away.
I sit on the fire escape with a smoke and my phone. The missed call from Em is almost as good as a shot of liquor. Hands like ice, I redial. A female voice answers. Quiet, small, torn. "Hello?"
"Oh … hey, is this Emmett's phone?" I say checking caller ID again. His name is lit up so I'm 90% sure it's Rose, and her tone is scaring the shit out of me.
"Yes," she says, wanting more.
"Erm … is he around?"
"No, he's not. Who is this?"
"It's Edward."
"Oh." Recognition thaws her a little. "It's Rosalie here. His … Emmett's wife, ex wife," she reminds me unnecessarily. "I saw the missed calls, so I called you back. He just has you in his phone as E," she explains.
"Will he be back soon?" I hazard a hope.
A pause while she whispers something, muffling the phone. I imagine him lying in bed next to her while she tries to wake him up. It's an easier image than the one fighting up from under it.
"Are you in Seattle now?" she asks.
"Yeah …" Every tone I'd taken for weariness becomes clearer and darker in my mind. My heart rate climbs higher than the fire escape.
"Can you make it down to the police station, East Precinct?" she breathes, a wobble in her exhale.
"Again?" I say and hear the confusion as she repeats her request. "Is everything alright? Is Em okay?"
"Can you make it?" She's barely listening. Barely breathing between thoughts.
"When do you need me to come?" I'm already scrambling back through the window. Bella looks over at me from her position lying on the couch. She sits up as I race through the apartment to grab my things.
"Now, Edward. Come now."
As always thank you so much for reading.
Thank you for your kind words while I've taken my time to update.
I'm back up and running now.
I missed you and Edward a lot.
Nothing I can say about Choc, Kim and Cat can do them justice. They are my superheroes.
Sparrow x