The conclusion to chapter 1 of Kissling Lane.
Beta'ed by the delightful Cejsmommy and LynseyLee.
Same warnings apply. See you at the bottom.
"If you don't answer the phone or provide the correct password, the police are dispatched," Thomas, the big blond security tech said. He shoved his hands in his pockets and jangled his keys.
"And I just hit 'arm' to turn it on." Bella tapped the new panel.
"Yeah." Thomas rocked on his heels, his keys jingled again.
"Great."
Signing her first born over to Hamlin Home Security, she said goodbye to Thomas and locked her door, arming the new system.
Jetta trotted into the living room. "Between you and that damn system, it's been an expensive day, girl. Maybe it's time to ask for that raise," Bella said to the dog. She flopped down on the cream colored sofa, sinking into it's worn cushions.
"Everything's a money grab," Edward said, scanning the screen in front of him.
"Whatcha workin' on?" the brunette's gaze shifted to the man sitting on her love seat.
"Policies. Dry as hell."
"What do you do?" Bella inquired, trying to sit up a little more, but the couch had sucked her in.
"I'm a healthcare consultant. I help hospitals and healthcare organizations get their shit together. Lots of boring crap like policies and procedures. Standards of practice," he explained.
Bella patted the space beside her and Jetta happily hopped up. "Do you like it?"
"I'm good at it," he conceded, but it didn't sound like a yes to Bella. He closed the laptop and raised his face to meet his neighbor's gaze. "My tics scare people. Scary people don't make good doctors." As if to prove a point, a string of expletives pushed their way out of his mouth.
Bella wasn't sure how to respond. She could understand how the syndrome might be a deterrent in a medical career, mostly because people, were judgemental crack-holes that wouldn't be able to move past the hiccup-sound, the whistling, the jazz hand, and certainly not the swearing. That thought bothered her.
"Well, you dodged a bullet, really. No bad news meetings with families, no horrible cafeteria food, and no vomit on your shoes at the end of the day." The girl smiled, but it was a weak offering.
He chuckled. "There would have been a lot of vomit. And bad news. Pediatric oncology was what I was specializing in."
"You went to med school?"
"For three years. Then a parent chewed me out. Said 'people like me shouldn't be allowed to practice medicine. After I'd heard that for the fourth time, I started to agree. Changed courses to healthcare management and that was that."
The conversation went on as the sun dipped out of sight and the summer air cooled. Edward told her about the ruthless playground he grew up on and the way the kids would tease him. They were cruel and merciless. According to Edward, his symptoms were never more out of control then during his high school years.
"Oh," Bella groaned. "That must have been awful." Suddenly. the clichè and utterly unoriginal Bugs Bunny taunts she sometimes heard growing up seemed stupid in comparison.
Offering Edward a beer and plunking down on the small loveseat next to him, they talked about their parents. Both were children of divorce. Edward's parents were both still alive, his father living in Ohio, remarried and retired. His mother was still in Harbour Beach, running a successful greenhouse just outside the city.
Twisting the top of the cold beer in her hand, Bella smiled. "My dad, Charlie, scary looking motherfucker." She chuckled thinking about her father. "He wears a suit for work, but the tats on his neck and hands peek out." She gushed about the burly biker-dad who drove a sedan to work each day, but his preferred mode of transportation was a Harley. Hauling out a photo album, showing her new friend the picture of the elegant letters tattooed on his knuckles, commemorating her birth, she said, "Still calls me baby girl." She tapped the photo.
"I'm having trouble picturing this dude in a suit," Edward admitted, looking through the photographs. "What does he do?"
With pride, Bella explained that Charlie worked for the Michigan State Police Department. Charlie was a hacker—sorry, Internet Security Specialist. One of the best there was. He helped suss out and take down child pornography rings, dirty CEO's, and drug runners. Charlie Swan was one of the good guys, contrary to his rough appearance.
"Sounds like an impressive man. And you can truff me for this, but I think Angela was right. You should call him. Tell him what's happening." He nudged her knee.
The girl looked to where their knees touched, thin strands of brown hair fell away from her ponytail. "Shit," Bella hissed. "It's eleven." Avoidance, thy name is Isabella Marie.
An auburn head dipped, confirming the time on his watch. "So it is."
"You're kinda distracting, Seventeen."
"I could same thing about you." Forest green eyes studied Bella's face. The look wasn't steamy and salacious, but it made her body light up all the same. "Go to bed, Bella. I'm just going to fire off an email or two." He tapped the forgotten laptop.
Oddly nervous, she cleared her throat. "I'll just … I'm gonna get some sheets and stuff," she sputtered, standing up and grabbing the empty beer bottles. She disappeared into the kitchen, Jetta followed. Bella placed the bottles on the counter next to the sink, and stood fanning herself.
Looking down at the dog at her side, she whispered, "What gives the motherfucker the right to look like that? I mean, really?"
The husky pawed at Bella's leg, as if to offer her support. It was then that she'd realized she'd been wearing the same navy and pink ribboned scrubs she changed into this morning. "Fuck my life!" she grumbled and threw her hands in the air.
"What's that?"
"No. Nothing. I'm good. Just talking to the dog." And wishing I'd thought to put on a pair of frickin' jeans, she thought to herself, turning and smiling at the man standing in the doorway.
Bella turned off the light and climbed into her bed, her mind running back to the virtual stranger stretched out on her human-eating couch. It should be weird or uncomfortable. But it wasn't. She felt safe and she quickly drifted off the sleep.
"Hi Daddy," Bella said, her shoulder pinning the phone to her ear as she made her lunch for the day. She kept her voice low and moved around the kitchen as quietly as she could, not wanting to wake Edward.
Charlie's deep voice rumbled over the line. Years of smoking gave it a rasp that really did nothing for his good-guy image."Mornin' baby girl. What's shakin' in Beach Harbour?"
Stuffing a peanut butter and jam sandwich into her lunch bag, and licking the excess raspberry jam off her thumb, she straightened her back. "Well … I got a dog … Sam's back … just had a fucking pricey security system installed … oh and I met a guy," she rambled hoping the worst of the news was swallowed up.
A sound like a door slamming and then huffing piped through the earpiece. No such luck, she thought, blindly groping in an open cupboard, searching for her stash of lunchtime treats. She was sure she still had a few Twinkies tucked away.
"What do you mean 'Sam's back'?" her father bellowed.
She explained to her father that she'd seen his car outside of work and that he'd phoned in the middle of the night. She told him about the kind, quick to act neighbor that scared him off the night he'd come peeping. She omitted the fact that said kind neighbor was now snoozing on her sofa.
"I'll take that goddamn boy apart," Charlie seethed. It was a vow, not an offside comment, she heard in his voice. Charlie would hunt Sam down, and Sam would never be heard from again. "How'd he find you, baby? You're not listed, you don't use social media, your internet and phone services are listed under another name. Unless this motherfucker picked up some new skills, I don't understand."
Clarity hit Bella, knocking the air from her lungs. "Shit," the girl hissed. A memory floated to the surface of her mind. Half drunk, middle of the night, and caught up in a conversation with Sam. She'd told him her mother lived in a small beach community. She never mentioned the name, but clearly the idea was enough for Sam to run with.
Charlie cursed an impressive blue streak. "I can't leave work right now. Fuck!" He took a breath and explained, "Human trafficking, Bells. They're actually auctioning off people. Kids." The disgust in his voice was bell clear.
"It's fine, Daddy. You keep doing good things there, I'm okay." Her thoughts skipped over to the next room and the beautiful sleeping man.
"I want someone with you at all times, baby. Understand?"
Agreeing, she turned to see Edward standing in the kitchen doorway, dopey-eyed and hair in an early-morning mess. He waved and mouthed "Have a good day," and disappeared.
"Blah, it's a good thing I keep a spare set of scrubs," Bella said, pinching the peach shirt and holding it away from her. "Kid cannot hold her fluoride."
"Oh that's gross," Angela snickered and held her hand over her nose as Bella walked passed her, with her change of clothes held at a safe distance.
Carefully, the dental hygienist folded herself out of the puke covered shirt and swapped it for a clean white top. She took the same care pulling off her scrub bottoms and tucking them into a plastic bag. A knock came as she tugged the string of her blue bottoms and knotted them.
"Yeah," she called out.
"Officer Biers is here." Her friend's voice sounded thin through the bathroom door. "Shake the stink off, girl."
"Be right there." Bella finished washing up, and when she opened the door she was greeted by a small blond girl with teary eyes.
"I'm sorry, Bella," the small girl said, hiccuping on unspent tears.
Going down to one knee, Bella wiped the moisture from the child's face. "It's okay, Robin. No harm, no foul. Look, all clean." She touched the girl's chin. "Now go see see Angela. I bet she's got some neat prizes in our treasure chest for you."
Robin smiled brightly and took off down the hall in search of a cheap trinket. Her mother smiled and thanked the hygienist as they walked to the front of the office.
As expected, Riley Biers had his shades on, leaning against the reception desk in casual way.. "Afternoon, Miss Swan. Is there a place we could talk for a moment?"
"Officer Biers," Bella greeted. Nodding, the newly dressed woman, motioned for him to follow as she led him down the hall to Eric's office. The door closed behind them and Riley took off his shades. "Did you find him?"
"A motel owner ID'ed him, said he'd been there for a little more than a week. The room was cleaned out, the car in the parking lot, abandoned. Found this in the front seat." The officer pulled a photo from the pocket over his heart and handed it to Bella.
"The blue dress," she whispered. Her fingers swept over the picture. An old, foggy memory came over her. His brother's wedding, twinkle lights everywhere and champagne that flowed into the wee hours of the morning. It was a good night. One of the last.
Shaking off the past, she told the cop about the red car Edward had seen parked in the lane.
"We assumed he'd snatched another car." Placing his sunglasses back in place and taking out his cell phone, Riley made a call to the police station, reporting the information Bella offered and requesting the information be passed on to nearby counties in the hopes of locating the stolen vehicle.
The five o'clock sun was hot and the humidity that had begun to creep over the harbor city in the early hours of the day, reached it's boiling point. Being outside for more than a few moments was completely unbearable.
Bella had stopped at the grocery store on the way home, picking up a few essentials, and a few not-so-essential items; like two boxes of chocolate popsicles and a tub of Rolo ice cream. The white, 2004, seen-better-days Sunfire came to a stop in her driveway with a squeal that told Bella that poor car wasn't likely to make it much longer. She sighed and pet the steering wheel.
Annoyed with the heat, she heaved the car door open, reached for her bags of loot and got out of the car.
"Hey!" A cheery voice called from behind her. "Here, let me take one of those." Edward held out his hand for a bag.
"Hot as Satan's balls out here," she complained, relinquishing a bag and shutting the car door with her hip.
"I love the heat." Edward smiled and turned his face to the sun.
"That's sick and wrong, Sir. Sick and wrong." She giggled and took a few steps toward the house and stopped. "Box," she said, jerking head toward the house, her eyes pinned to a small box that sat in front of her door.
Edward kept moving, calling out over his shoulder, "Yeah, a delivery van pulled away about an hour ago." He made to the second step before he turned and looked at his neighbor.
"Everything, and I mean everything is delivered to my P.O. box, Edward. Even cards from my dad, it all goes to the post office on Becker." She stood still, staring at the unassuming cardboard box. "Have you ever seen Seven, Edward?"
He retreated to the lawn beside Bella.
"Twice in one day, Miss Swan, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you like having me around," Officer Biers said as her stepped away from the cruiser and crossed the lawn.
"My popsicles are ruined! Look at this." The sweaty brunette held up a plastic bag sloshing with a brown liquid. "There better be damn head in there at this point." She huffed and Edward held back a chuckle.
"Puked on at work and now your popsicles are melted. Feelin' a little hostile, I get it." Officer Biers marched up the stairs and stood over the offending box. "Well, it's not leaking, so I think we can rule out human head." Careful and slow, the man picked up the box and brought it to his ear.
"Great way to get your face blown off," Bella pointed out.
"He's a stalker, not the unabomber. He doesn't want to blow you to smithereens, he wants to surprise you." The officer sounded awfully confident. Bella, not so much. He came down off the porch, pulling a small Swiss knife from his pocket. Walking toward them, he punctured the tape, keeping the lid closed, and ran the knife down the center. Placing it on the hood of Bella's Sunfire, he carefully pulled the flaps back.
"Oh my God," Bella choked, reaching into the box. Her shaking hand pulled a stack of photos from inside. Pictures of her jogging, watering the lawn, arriving at work, even pictures of her out on dates. A year's worth of pictures cataloging her life to that point. "He's been watching the whole time. Waiting."
Officer Biers took one of the photos and held it up. It was obvious the pictures had been taken from a car, and as he scanned the area, he surmised that it must have been taken from a neighbor's driveway a few doors down.
Bella began to tremble, tears fell quietly down her face. "How could I not have known? He was right here."
The officer gently pried the photos from her hand and let them fall back into the box. He closed the lid and put a hand on Bella's shoulder. "He didn't want to be seen. He was careful. Just like he's being careful now. Just means we need to step up our game. We'll catch him. I promise." His voice was sincere and soft.
"Change of venue," Edward said. He took the keys from her unsteady hands and made his way inside the house. When he reappeared, his arms were loaded down with dog food and the dog's dishes. Jetta pranced beside him. "We'll stay at my place tonight." He winked at her. "Go grab your things, I'm making sushi."
"Come on in," Edward shouted from the other side of the storm door.
The door creaked and groaned, sounding just as put-out by the heat as Bella was. Jetta jumped and danced, as her owner opened the door. "Hey, pretty girl." She smoothed her hand over the dog's back, patting her back end.
Bella looked around; the living room was long and wide. A large flat screen sucked up a good portion of the far wall and various framed movie posters took up the rest. The walls were a decadent chocolate color, the sectional a perfect pearl shade. The contrast was lovely and inviting. The girl placed her bag on an overstuffed chair and went in search of Edward.
Following chopping noises, she found the kitchen. It was bright and airy. Edward stood at a small island in the center, working a knife like a pro, creating thin sticks of cucumber. "How can I help?" she asked.
The would be sushi chef looked up from the chopping block. He stopped, putting the knife down and really looked at her. "You clean up nice, Fourteen. I mean … you look good … no scrubs," he blurted.
Before leaving, Bella changed into a pair of navy cotton shorts and a bright yellow tank top. She'd washed her face and brushed out her frizzy hair, quickly fixing it in a messy side-braid while Office Biers hung out in the driveway. "I do look good without scrubs," she teased, and she couldn't believe the flirt that oozed out of her mouth. "So where do want me?"
Pausing, he seemed to contemplate his response. "You can grab a bottle of wine and get comfortable." Canting his tousled, auburn head, he indicated the direction.
"Deal." Humming in delight, Bella held up a bottle of red, declared her love, and then told that bottle exactly what kind of fate it would meet. That earned a hearty laugh from the sushi master. Smacking her lips, she opened the red Bearflag, admired the wine glasses Edward had placed on the counter, and poured a healthy glass for each of them.
"Ahem," Edward cleared his throat and pointed the tip of this knife at the freezer on the bottom of the fridge. "Check the freezer."
Wine in hand, the girl pulled the freezer drawer open and squealed. "Cherry Popsicles! May I?" Bella's barefeet tapped out a funny little dance, and she grinned from ear to ear.
Chucking, a look of amusement on his face, Edward nodded. "Figured you might like one of those."
"You have no idea. I was thinking about popsicles all damn day. It was pretty much my goal for the night, eat a box of popsicles and watch an episode or two of Penny Dreadful. That's all I wanted from life. Popsicles and chill."
Conversation flowed as simple and easy as taking a step. First dates, Edward's siblings, favorite books and music. All the cliché things you might cover in a Tinder conversation. Wine glows strong, they took the restless husky for a walk around the block, laughing and chattering on about embarrassing moments, though how they came to that topic, Bella couldn't say. The occasional amorous comment was lobbed, and just as they rounded the block, Edward reached out and twined his fingers with Bella's.
Shutting the door behind him, Edward whistled and then pitched a few interesting expletives into the air.
"Edward?" Bella said in a tentative voice. "Your tics … does stress provoke them?"
"Sometimes," he admitted, turning to look at the slender brunette.
Pinning her eyes on his face, she asked, "Do I make you nervous?"
Taking three quick steps forward, his hands found her hips and he walked her backward until she was trapped. The cool wall shocked Bella's overheated skin and she startled. "Yes," he hissed, his mouth incredibly close to hers. "You make me nervous. You make me feel human, not a sideshow."
Breath smelling sticky sweet and wine-soaked, she placed her hands on his forearms.
"So what are you waiting for?" she challenged. Bella's brain easily kicked out a dozen reasons why this might not be the smartest idea, but they all seemed idiotic when his green eyes looked at her like that.
When warm, soft lips met hers, she politely told her brain to shut the fuck up, and opened her mouth. She tasted wine and mint and cherry, and it was exquisite. This was a slow, burning kind of kiss. The kind that scorched away every other kiss and left a stamp on your lips you'd never scrub off.
Pulling away, and breathing out a shaky breath, Edward's hands cupped the sides of her face. "Wanna watch that episode of Penny, now?"
Blinking and feeling a little sideswiped, Bella's featured morphed into a puzzled mask. "What?"
"Just kidding." Edward snickered and went in for another kiss. This one was playful, nipping and licking at her lips. "Would it be completely absurd, if I asked you strip out of those clothes?" Pressing against the girl's soft form, his teeth raked over her earlobe.
Pushing away from the wall, Bella padded over to the plush sectional. "Curtains." She tipped her chin up and looked pointedly at the open window, her fingers fiddled with the hem of her sunny tank top.
In a hasty movement, he jerked the curtains closed and advanced on the girl. Before he could reach her, she pulled her shirt over her head and dropped it. A salacious grin stretched across his face and he stopped, a mere foot between them. Tracing the tip of his finger in a circle around her bellybutton, she shivered. "If this is booze fueled, tell me now."
"Mild buzz. I have all my faculties about me, promise." Crossing her heart, the brunette sat on the couch, tugging on his hand.
Rubbing his thumb over his bottom lip, Edward stepped between her knees and bent forward until his forehead touched hers. "And the seven years between us?"
She scoffed. "If it were an issue, Edward, I wouldn't be sitting in your living room topless. Is it a problem for you?" Turning the question on him, her fingers sneaked under the hem of his shirt and tickled the skin just above the waist of his jeans.
Apparently, it wasn't an issue. Pushing her bare shoulders until she lay flat, he guided her up the sectional with an arm tucked around her waist. His feet dangled off the open end, and her thighs parted, cradling him. Sweeping his index finger from navel to sternum and back, Bella closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation. Goose bumps pushed up like spring flowers all over her exposed skin, and her back arched when he cupped her breast, squeezing firmly.
With his thumb and finger, he flicked open her front clasp bra and swept the material to the sides. "Thirty-three and I still think boobs are the greatest thing ever," he admitted, brushing the rough pad of his thumb over her pink, pebbled flesh.
"Even I can appreciate a great rack," Bella said with a lopsided smile, jumping a little when his warm mouth sucked gently on her neck. Grabbing fist fulls of blue fabric, she pulled his T-shirt over his head and let her hands slide over his smooth skin. A gasp escaped Bella when Edward's teeth closed on her shoulder.
That flipped a switch in Bella, and what was a slow, sensual exploration became almost primal. Guiding his mouth to hers, she kissed him deeply. Her hips began to move in a steady rhythm. She silently thanked the inventor of denim, because the rough fabric provided the perfect amount of friction.
Pulling away from the kiss, Edward's finger touched her lower lip. "Open." When she did, he slipped his finger into her mouth, a mewling sound broke free as he did. "That's a fucking beautiful sound." His voice was rough and dirty in her ear.
Nails biting down, Bella's hands gripped his hips and urged him to move against her. His wet finger dragged over the tip of her chin, then tickled her neck, slowly coasted between the humble swell of her breasts, and stopped just below her navel. Their eyes connected, and the moment Edward's hand dipped below the waist of her shorts, her tummy fluttered in anticipation.
Running his finger over her damp panties, he leaned in, his lips barely touching hers. It was maddening, and she loved it. Her eyes slipped shut and she focused on that fluttering pit in her stomach and warm hand between her legs.
Her hips rocked, seeking more, wanting skin to skin connection. Hitching her leg over his hip, she begged him to touch her.
"Say it again," he ordered in a breathy voice, applying a little more pressure.
"Oh God, please. Touch me!" There wasn't an ounce of shame in her voice, she'd gladly beg for a little relief.
Edward groaned, sliding against her once more, before tugging her underwear to the side and dipping two fingers inside. A loud cry issued, and Bella's back arched. A new wave of heat flooded the girl's veins. He pumped his fingers easy and slow, grinding against her with each forward movement.
Feeling greedy, Bella reached forward, gripping handfuls of hair, drawing him nearer. Her breath pushed out, tiny squeaks chased each exhale. "Feels so good," she mumbled against his open mouth. The vibrating pit in her belly grew, and her pelvis moved, tilting, searching.
"Not quite hitting the mark, hey, Popsicle?" Edward asked, withdrawing. He began to push off her.
Shocked, Bella looked into summer green eyes. "I …" She wasn't sure what to say. Did she need more, yes. Was it good, yes. Would she have reached orgasm… she couldn't answer that. Also … Popsicle?
"I think the last time I fingered someone on a couch, I was sixteen." Sitting back on his heels, he placed his hands on her waist, fisting the cotton material of her little shorts. "Lift," he said. "It's an angles game."
He's not wrong, she thought, remember more than a few almost-there moments. Hips pushed off the plush couch, and he peeled her shorts off, taking her useless panties with them. Dropping the clothes, he took in the sight before him. Bella was completely exposed, and with the needful way his eyes roamed her flushed body, she didn't seem to mind.
His knuckles caressed her sun-kissed thighs, traveling from knee to hip and back again. "I could say that you're stunning, or perfect, or some other romance novel cliché. But I think I'm just going to go with wow."
Bella chuckled. "I'm good with wow."
Dragging his hands up her legs again, using a little pressure, his fingers digging in just enough to leave a delicate, red trail, he pulled her hips up, reached down, and grabbed a small, brown throw pillow that must have been shoved off the couch at some point. He positioned it on his legs under her ass. Giving her a wicked wink, he said, "Shall we try this again?" Edward's voice rolled the words over, dirtying each syllable. He licked his fingers, smiled, and pushed inside.
Her legs squeezed around him, hugging his torso. "Holy fuck!" she cried.
Watching her body writhe, he smiled. "Eyes right here," he said, when Bella's eyes squeezed closed.
One hand clutched the sofa, anchoring her in the sensation; the other wandered, grazing her stomach, cupping her breasts, and then slipping between her open thighs, teasing her excited body and enjoying the feel of Edward's hand working her.
Her hips began to spin in small, slow circles. She knew she was close, and the string of profanities that dropped from her lips grew louder, more needful.
"Christ, those words never sounded so fucking good," Edward professed. His eyes were fixed on her face, occasionally drifting to where his fingers were buried inside her.
"So romance novel," the writhing girl said, between whimpers and naughty words.
Edward snickered, and leaned to her just the slightest, adding a little more pressure and friction.
"Yes!" she cried out, panting. "Oh, fuck, I'm right there. Please." The begging was ineffectual; her body was too close to the tipping point to back down now.
"Come," Edward growled, looming over her.
And with a loud squeak, she did. Her fists screwed into tight little balls, her eyes slammed shut and as she exhaled, she began to giggle.
"Thank you," Bella said, lying on her side, Edward tucked in next to her. Her clothes remained on the floor by the couch. She was perfectly content and comfortable.
"Please tell me you're not thanking me for an orgasm."
Flicking his ear playfully, she rolled her eyes. "No. For the sushi, the wine. For the conversation. For the distraction." Her voice thinned out and her brown eyes searched his face.
"So, I'm a distraction? I feel so used." Edward's bottom lip quivered and the pout he delivered was Oscar worthy.
"Not you, jack-hole, all the other stuff. I needed that. Today, with those pictures …" She didn't finish her sentence, tears stacking quick and thick.
"Happy to be a distraction." He kissed her forehead and let his hand caress the curve of her hip. "That hallelujah course alone was worth the effort," he teased with a wink.
"I needed that, too," she admitted, wiping fat tears from her cheeks. "Can I ask you something?"
"Fire away."
"How come you don't ever leave your house?"
The copper-haired man, pursed his lips. A pensive expression took over his face. "I hate it out there," he admitted, canting his head toward the bay window. "People are rude and cruel to each other. Things look better from my window, ya know?"
Fingertip tracing his bare chest, she nodded in agreement.
"But I saw you out there. Washing your car, digging around in your garden, talking to our neighbors; and I wanted that. I want to know the people around me, to be, I don't know, fucking connected or something. So I put on my big boy pants yesterday and came over."
A little flattered by his omission, she propped herself up on her elbow and looked down on him. "Not all of them. Some of them are dillholes."
"The screamer next door, kills me. Sits on her front porch, hollering into her phone. Whole fucking neighbourhood can hear her." Edward's face morphed, the pensive lines turning into laugh lines.
"Jessica!" Bella provided with a giggle. "And she has reason to shout. Her ex-husband is a world class dick. Left her for some woman he works with."
"Ah, traded in for a younger model?"
Shaking her brunette head, she answered, "Noooo. Older, by like fifteen years or something. He leaves her ridiculous messages." Bella went on to tell him about the hipster couple—Kayla and Howard—and the impressive greenhouse in their backyard. About the special baked goods they would make and bring to her sister after chemo treatments. She jabbered on about Vince, with the pristine lawn and how mean he was.
"See, I want to know that," he said with a hint of determination in his voice.
"There's a barbecue next weekend at Kayla and Howie's, come with me. They're good people, Edward." She encouraged him with her voice and the soft strokes of her hand on his lower abdomen. "Can I ask you something else?" Nervous teeth chewed away at her bottom lip.
"Anything else."
"The women I've seen … leaving here? Relatives or …" A tad embarrassed to admit she'd been watching too, she let her words drop.
Clearing his throat, he answered honestly, "Some are clients …" he whistled, " …others short term girl friends, flings. A week or two of sounds like that one, and maybe an embarrassing moment at restaurant or in a quiet movie theater, and that's it, they're done."
"I'll say it again, people suck."
Forgetting their morning obligations, they left the couch to the dog, crawled into Edward's king-sized bed, and talked until the sun chased away the darkness.
As the week drifted on, summer heat growing bolder and more intense, Edward became a constant. It was easy and comfortable, and though it was all too fast, she'd never had anything so simple before and it felt good. As wonderful as it was, however, she hadn't, for a moment, forgotten about Sam.
Since the incident with the photos, nothing new had happened. Sam was a storm cloud, inching closer, building, waiting to burst. She could feel it all around her, like the electric charge in the air before the lightening strikes. He was waiting, biding his time.
Two days ago, Deputy Hallett had called on a balmy afternoon to let Bella know that Jake, Sam's brother, had filed a missing person's report with the Detroit police. Sam hadn't reported to work in more than three weeks, and his family hadn't seen or heard from him in about a week. Deputy Hallett informed them of Sam's recent behavior and that they were looking to serve him with a protections order. Sam had no intention of being found. He was clever and very resourceful, something Bella had once admired about the man.
Charlie called every evening, concerned for his daughter's safety, but unable to leave his work obligations. The case he'd been working on turned out to be much larger and therefore much more complicated than they thought.
"Eating your veggies, kid?" Charlie said, by way of greeting one evening.
Grinning from ear to ear, Bella replied, "Nope. Nothin' but nachos and beer"
A hearty chuckle rumbled through the line. "That's my girl!" There was a small pause, and she could hear the distinctive sound of a cap being pried off a bottle. "So, Edward checks out," he announced.
A funny smile lit Bella's face. She'd told her father about the man she met, and though she'd asked him not to 'look into Edward,' she knew he would. She knew he wouldn't be able to help himself.
"Big on online shopping. Watches porn, but nothing out of the ordinary," Charlie informed her in a rather off-the-cuff way. Business as usual.
Phone pressed to her ear and a hand kneading pizza dough, the brunette chuckled. When Edward looked up, she placed her hand over the phone and said in a quiet voice, "You watch too much porn." She'd prepared Edward for the eventuality that her father would completely disregard just about every law there was on the matter of personal privacy. Surprisingly, he had just shrugged it off. Given the situation and the threat to Bella's safety, he understood why a father would go to such lengths.
Edward made a sound and shrugged.
"Is he there? Is the boy with you now?"
"The boy?" Bella snorted. "Yeah, Daddy, the boy is here." Lifting the ball of dough, she reached for the container of flour, sprinkling the countertop.
"Put him on," Charlie demanded.
"Shit," she mumbled, pointing the phone at Edward. "He wants to talk to you. Sorry." Grimacing, she waved the phone at him again.
Edward pushed away from the table, he looked a tad … ill as he reached for the small cell.
Speaking loud enough for her father to hear, Bella said, "If he asks if you're sleeping with his daughter, which by the way he won't, you just hang up. Mm kay?" The look she tossed at Edward before he lifted the phone to his face, was a take no shit kind of look.
Turning her back to Edward, she grabbed the rolling pin sitting out, and began to roll out the sticky dough.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Swan," she heard him say. "Yes, Sir … No, Sir, not at all … Yeah … Absolutely, Sir … Yes … Right then … Good night, Charlie."
Dusting a little more flour on the pin, Bella asked, "Sooo, how'd it go? Did he ask if we were sleeping together. I fuckin' hate it when he does that."
"No, but he made it clear if I hurt you in any way, he'd hunt me like a wild animal and bronze my balls like a trophy. Oh, and he called you 'Belly'," he teased, moving in behind her, his arms going around her waist.
The rolling pin stopped and she turned in his arms. "Of course he did. 'Cause what man wants to get down and dirty with a girl whose father threatens their manhood and refers to his daughter with some cute pet name? All the sexy goes right down the drain after that." She threw her arms in the air in disbelief. "That was a dick move," she huffed.
Taking a strand of soft, brown hair between his fingers, Edward locked eyes with the girl in his arms. "Hey, Popsicle? Wanna get dirty?"
It was pitch black when she heard glass breaking at the back of the house. Jolting sleepy-eyed Bella from a lovely and wicked dream, her hands groped the space next to her, and found it empty. Her memory quickly jogged; Edward had left at quarter to eleven, having to be at a meeting in the morning. Panic immediately flooded her system, irises blowing wide to take in the darkness around her, heart crashing wildly; she was hyper alert. Somewhere, at the front of the house, she heard Jetta barking and growling in a way she'd never heard before. It was primal, it was vicious. When she was very suddenly quiet, Bella leaped to her feet, fearing the worst for her four legged friend.
Her hand clutching the knob, ready to tear the bedroom door open, she stopped. If Sam is in the house, he's looking for you, the terrified girl thought. She turned the lock, engaging it and stepped away from the door. She spun and searched the room for her phone. And it was then that she realized she hadn't heard the alarm sound.
Thoughts ran in a dozen different directions. An animal? Had that wayward branch fallen and struck a window? She took a deep breath and let her ears absorb every creak and croak. She heard shuffling. Animals generally don't shuffle, and certainly don't wear shoes, she thought, picking up on the footsteps.
Find your fucking phone, Isabella!
Checking her bedside table, the dresser and the scrubs she'd stripped out of that evening, she came up empty handed. "God damn it!" With sickening clarity, she knew the phone was on the kitchen counter, where she'd left it.
"Isabella, baby, open the door!" The handle jiggled.
Bella jumped at the sound of Sam's voice on the other side of the door.
"No, no, no," she chanted, backing into the corner of her room.
Bang
Sam's hand slammed against the door, and he begged in a dangerous voice for Bella to open the door.
Pursing her lips, she remained still and quiet. "Keep a level head, kid," she heard Charlie's voice whisper through a memory. She took another deep breath, her hands shook and sweat coated her skin. She eyed the window. The house was a 1970's brick ranch, climbing out the window posed no risk of major injury. Creeping on barefeet, she stopped at the window, gripped a cord and tugged, sending plastic blinds up.
Bang Bang Bang
"Still got a thing for superheroes, huh, Bells?"
A different knocking came, the sound of something small, hard. Her phone. The case she had on her phone was an Avengers case, The Black Widow.
"Seventeen? That's the asshole across the street, isn't it!?" His fist struck the door again, louder, splintering the old wood. Quieter, and much more furiously, he said, "I saw you, Isabella. I saw him touching you."
She didn't know how, but Sam had been watching that first night with Edward. Anger rose up in her and she felt violated in a way his fists could never had made her feel. Fighting the urge to pick up something heavy and go out there swinging, she unlocked the window and gently eased it open. Bella peeked her head outside, and when the night air hit her, she remembered her bare chest and blindly scooped a T-shirt from the dresser next to the window.
Bella threw one leg out the window, her palms resting on the window's sill, and pivoted; climbing out of her room, her bare feet landed with ease on the cool lawn between the homes. Swift and light footed, she creeped around the house. She could see Edward's house from where she stood.
Heart still thumping in a hard beat against her ribs, she scanned the dark before her and then glanced over her shoulder. Then her feet started her body forward and she made a dash for Edward's house.
Not four steps into her sprint, thick arms wrapped around her torso, and a large, hot hand came up, covering her mouth before she had the chance to scream. Bella flailed wildly. Grabbing for exposed skin and she bit down on the hand at her mouth. With ease, he pulled her back, her toes barely grazing the grass beneath her.
He dragged her up the three small stairs, and right through the front door of her own home.
"If you think you can't get away, you bite, you kick, you spit. You do not make it easy on them, Belly."
She listened to that whisper and as soon as her feet landed on solid ground again, she planted them, and bent at the waist, shoving back with everything she had. Sam's vice grip loosened and he stumbled, but never lost his hold her. The second his hand slipped just the slightest, she let out an ear piercing scream.
With a grunt, he regained his footing and tugged her hard against his massive chest. "Play nice, pretty girl," he warned.
"Fuck you," she spat behind his slick hand. She tasted his sweat and smelled something desperate on him. More than the arms locking her body in place, that smell terrified her.
He chuckled.
Lips at her ear, Sam said, "The thing about security systems, baby, is that if you cut the phone lines, it's useless. No one's coming for you." He kissed her temple.
Slamming her head to the side, Bella heard a crack as the side of her head collided with Sam's face. In that same second she brought her foot down on his as hard as she could. Her head rang and her vision blurred for a few seconds.
That protective instinct each person has, gave Bella the opening she needed when Sam let her go and brought his hands to his face. He pitched curses and threats at her back as she raced forward, slamming the door behind her. She made it to the curb before she heard her storm door fly open and bang off the doorframe.
She turned to see Sam storming down the tiny porch and gunning right for her. Fists balled tight at her sides, she looked him right in the eye, opened her mouth and screamed, "FIRE!" His feet stopped their forward march and he stared at the brunette.
"9-1-1! FIRE!" She screeched so loud her throat burned with the effort. Bella walked backward onto the street, and her eyes never left Sam's angry face.
Behind her a door opened and clamoured, quick footfalls came closer and closer.
"Bella!" Edward roared.
Sam began to back-peddle to the side, likely in the direction of a car he had parked somewhere on the street. Another door opened, and Jessica stepped out onto her porch, phone in hand. Bella could hear her relaying details about what woke her at three in the morning and what was playing out on the street in front of her.
Edward flew passed her in sleep pants and nothing more. He barreled forward, catching up to Sam quickly. Edward shoved Sam and Sam pitched forward, tumbling to the ground. Seconds later, Edward was on him, fists coming down in angry, swift blows, like the strike of a cobra.
"Edward, stop!" Bella shouted, drawing closer to the brawl. Sam struggled to get a shot in. "Stop." She made her voice soft, quiet.
Looking up, Edward took a deep breath, pulling himself back. He straightened himself and side-stepped the heap at his feet.
Bella grabbed his forearm and pulled him to her. "I'm okay," she assured.
Sirens cut through the sounds of heavy breathing and the adrenalin that had sharpened Bella's senses, drained, the world around her flickered away.
Breathing in, Bella smelled a familiar spice mixed with antiseptic. She heard her father's voice, low and commanding. There was someone else in the room, a voice she didn't know. Below the chatter, was the sharp beeping of a machine. She swallowed and tasted copper.
"Daddy," Bella croaked, weak and no better than a whisper. Her eyelids felt heavy and she struggled to open them.
"Bella? Hey, baby girl."
Her eyes zoomed in and out of focus, and between heavy blinks, she caught her father's big brown eyes looking down at her. His hand rested on hers, swallowing it whole. She forced her eyes open and looked down at the tattoos that colored his knuckles: BABY.
In a hoarse voice, Bella asked, "Where am I?"
"Harbor Beach Community Hospital," Charlie answered plainly. "What do you remember?"
Closing her eyes, she tugged on her memory. "Vomiting on a pretty, blonde nurse." Clips and bits of talk filtered through.
" … A concussion …"
" … Possible skull fracture …"
" … Best to run an MRI …"
She made a face, but reached further back. "Edward." She opened her eyes and sat up, looking around the room.
"Has a few broken knuckles, maybe a fracture in his wrist," Charlie answered quickly. "I like him."
"Dad, he beat the shit out Sam. Where is he? Did they arrest him?"
"Initially, yes, he was charged with assault. But, given his shiny-clean record, and my unbelievable sway with the Michigan State Police, the charges were dropped. Your boy's just down in imaging havin' a fancy photo session with that nurse you puked on. Rose, I think her name was. Pretty little thing."
Relief washed through Bella, her shoulders sagged and dropped back to the bed. A dull, pulsing pain on the right side of her face made her wince. She brought her fingers up, gingerly feeling a large lump on the side of her head. "Fuck, that smarts," she spat, bringing her hand away.
"Wanna tell me how that happened, kid?"
Her lips curled in anger, remembering his mouth pressed against her temple. "He kissed my face, I broke his nose."
"Atta girl. Bells, I want to ask you something, and please, even if it's hard, even if it hurts, please tell me the truth." There was a worried look on Charlie's handsome face. One she'd only ever seen once before: the night she was admitted to the hospital for extensive, life threatening injuries.
She nodded once and waited.
Clearing his throat, Charlie asked, "Did he rape you?"
"What? No, Daddy." Confusion wrapped tightly around her words and she quirked her head.
The breath that Charlie was holding, let go like air from a balloon, and he sat back in the mustard colored chair. He rubbed his hand over his not-so-clean shaven face and sighed. "Why were you in nothing but a T-shirt?"
Embarrassment brought a flush to Bella's skin. "Well …" she stretched the word out " … I wasn't clothed when I fell asleep. Figured the T-shirt was better than nothing."
"Likin' Edward a little bit less now," he grumbled, clearly catching the things his daughter didn't say.
"Stop. He's good to me, and you should see him with—" Her tired brain threw another memory out and tears bunched in her throat. "Jetta?"
Her father bowed his head, lips pursed in a hard line. He didn't need to say anything, Bella understood that her new friend was gone. "Sam?" Bella asked.
"Your boyfriend fucked him up pretty good. He's cuffed to a hospital bed, awaiting transfer to Jackson. He'll be arraigned when he's able. There's a few suits out there that are gonna wanna talk to you, baby girl. You up for it?"
She inhaled and nodded. Though her head throbbed, her heart hurt, and her throat was still a little raw from screaming, she repeated her story for Officers Riley Biers and Jane Hallett.
A bright yellow "FOR SALE" sign swung back and forth in the late summer breeze as Edward hauled the last of the boxes out the front door of 14 Kissling Lane. He marched across the street, offering a friendly hello to Kayla and Howie as they strolled by with their massive mutt.
"That's it," Edward stated as he passed the box to Bella. He handed her the keys and plopped down on the sofa with a grunt.
Bella placed the box on the loveseat and laid down on the couch, feet propped up on Edward's lap, and surveyed the house at 17 Kissling Lane. It was a blend of Bella and Edward; mismatched, but perfectly complimenting each other.
Everything seemed to be running in fast forward, but it was a pace Bella was happy to match. Their relationship began in chaos, but it seemed, for now, that life was easing off the curve balls, and they were going to take full advantage of that. For once, Bella could clearly see a well beaten path in her future, one that was simple and clear; and she wanted nothing more than to walk that path with Edward by her side.
So that's that folks!
I hope you enjoyed the story. I had a blast writing it, even if it did touch on some dark themes.
Serious note time: This compilation came about because tragedy struck a fandom-family member. She, and several friends, took that dark moment and twisted it on it's head, using it as a platform to discuss the hard stuff: mental health. To this day, a stigma surrounds all things mental health and this fandom stood up and said: Lets talk about all the dark things. The things that haunt us, scare us, confuse us. Let's pull back the curtain, talk about the elephant in the room. It was amazing to read the confessions of people, fandom-friends that have been affected by mental health issues, directly or otherwise. It was even more amazing to see the support and the acceptance. I'm so proud to have been part of that.
Thank you for including me.
Now go do good things, people!
~MissJanuary
