I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.
Chapter 3: The Beast Within
I've built walls,
A fortress deep and mighty,
That none may penetrate.
I have no need of friendship; friendship causes pain.
It's laughter and it's loving I disdain.
I am a rock,
I am an island.
"I am a Rock" by Simon and Garfunkel
~OT~
You know you're killing yourself with drugs and booze when rock stars tell you to "slow the fuck down."
I had hoped to banish her ghost by knowing what she was up to. Instead, I had seen the image that had damned me. I had pictured Bella in her small life. I had to admit that Bella was gone, finally and forever. Had there been some small part of my brain that had held onto the delusion that one day, somehow, I might find my way back to her and find some sort of redemption in her arms?
Apparently, there had. Because now that traitorous little part of me was in agony, screaming and ripping at insides with claws that glistened red with blood and black with self-hatred. The only way to quiet the beast for a few blissful hours was to drug him and drink him into sullen silence. Even fucking didn't help much. If anything, it made the emptiness more tangible. Fucking wasn't love. I didn't want to love. I didn't want to be loved. But the ache was there. The emptiness, the abyss that opened beneath me, waiting...and hungry.
Like a toothache, I couldn't help but goad the pain, sticking my tongue in the ache and moving it around. Did it still hurt? Oh yes, and let the sweet flood of agony flow. It was like a new addiction. A better drug than the best heroin, better than sex. It was just...everything. The pain sharpened my focus, until I couldn't take it any more. And then I'd medicate it into brooding quiet and stillness. Until I craved it again. To perpetuate my pain, lest I ever forget what a total waste of breath I was, I hired a private detective. It was just one more luxury that vast wealth afforded me.
I could torture myself and not blink at the cost.
Bella and Jacob Black were now living in Nashville, Tennessee. He was no longer in the Marines, though my investigator was still trying to find out exactly when Black had left the military. Jenks didn't say why Jacob had left the Marine Corps. I didn't ask, mostly because I didn't care enough to bother. Neither of them had any current employment records listed, and the government files were too well protected for my investigator to risk hacking. As he told me, he wasn't going to jail for someone like me.
I had to admire his honesty. It didn't keep me from punching him, but he only laughed at me and told me he'd bill for a dozen hours extra and we'd call it even. He was a man I could understand, so our partnership worked in some dysfunctional way. At the very least, we despised each other equally.
He even hired a photographer to see if she could get any pictures. I wasn't sure if I was ready for that, but I wanted the option. I had become a stalker by proxy. Why do my own stalking when I could pay someone to do the dirty work?
The day came when the investigator called me to tell me that he had the pictures in his hands. "Do you want me to bring them to you personally or just put them in the mail?"
I thought it over for a moment. "Just mail them." I didn't want an audience in case I decided to actually look at the pictures.
I hung up and immediately regretted my decision. I called him right back. "Bring them to me," I ordered. That was the advantage of being a star. Everyone expected me to be unreasonable, demanding, and mercurial. I didn't disappoint them, in fact, I delighted in it. I put a lot of effort into being an asshole.
An hour later, there was a discreet knock at the door. Everything about Jenks was discreet, even his gestures. I opened the door and grabbed for the envelope. It was fairly thick and I felt a moment of optimism.
"I did some digging on my own," Jenks explained. "Went back to her childhood." No need, my good man, I was there for a large portion of that.
I gave him an abrupt nod.
"I figured when I heard you mention Forks that you went to school with her," Jenks mused aloud.
"Yeah, well you're obviously a fucking genius," I smirked. "Must be why I pay you the big bucks."
"My kid needs braces," Jenks shot back. "You wanna take another shot at me?" He made the offer with a grin, even helpfully raising his jaw and pointing out a sweet spot.
I smiled in spite of myself. "Nah, not today. Feeling pretty mellow," I explained. And I was, with the little help of an herbal friend.
He sniffed. "I can smell it." Then he motioned toward the manila envelope. "There's the standard stuff, yearbook pictures, some newspaper clippings, shit like that. The photographer also got close enough to get some shots of the woman and her husband." He stopped and tilted his head to study me. A note I'd never heard before came into his voice. I couldn't identify it, mostly because I had tuned such things out for years now. I suspected it might be…disapproval? "Sir…if you don't mind me asking… Exactly what are you planning?"
"None of your fucking business," I snapped.
He sighed and folded his hands in front of him as if in prayer. "I see…"
"Besides, what's it to you?" I frowned at him.
Jenks shrugged. "Nothing really." He frowned thoughtfully. "It's just… Well, you'll see when you look at the photos."
I was almost dying to look now, but I couldn't with his unrelenting scrutiny upon me. Fuck that. I'd look at them in private, at my leisure. I'd paid dearly for them after all – in more ways than one.
And who is to blame for that?
"I'm not gonna fucking kidnap her or anything," I sneered. "We used to be…friends."
Oh yes, because friends treat each other like you treated Bella. I'd hate to see how you treated your enemies.
"I guess all I'm saying is that they've been through enough," Jenks said after a moment's pause. "I'm former military myself, you know. Naval Intelligence," he added. I knew all of that, it was one of the reasons I'd hired him. He was wasting my time. "And just…" He heaved another sigh and shook his head. "The last thing this lady needs is some spoiled rock star drug addict pretty boy trying to mess up things for her anymore." He gestured at the photos. "You obviously had your chance with her. And I can put two and two together and figure out that you blew it. Which, I might add, doesn't surprise me in the least. But maybe you oughta just take your lumps like a man and move on. Leave the lady in peace." He squared his shoulders. "Either way, I'm done. If you want further information on her, you can contact another investigator."
I stared at him in shock. This was Jenks. He'd let me punch him for a few thousand dollars. I was fairly sure he would have offered his soul to the devil for the right price. Like recognized like. Birds of a feather and all that shit. I'd handed mine over for the fleeting excitement of fame. I hoped he had gotten a better deal.
"Understood," I said after a moment. I wasn't going to make any promises. Everything depended on what I found in the envelope. "Thanks."
He looked at the envelope one last time, almost as if he wished he had never given it to me or that he could snatch it out of my hands. I put it behind my back like a child. He turned, gave me one last hard look over his shoulder and walked out the door.
Good riddance… Like I needed his shit right now.
Impatiently, I tore it open, flipping through the pictures. The standard stuff…school shots, some more wedding photos. Those looked like they had been candids taken by a guest and perhaps posted on Facebook. That was another thing I'd have to investigate. In my confused and mostly inebriated and fucked up state, I hadn't even remembered to check there. I'd start with people we went to high school with and move on from there. Then I came to the first of the shots the hired photographer had taken.
Bella unloading groceries from a Honda that looked at least five years old. I snorted. Little lives, little people. As I studied it, I noticed that she looked tired, too thin… What business is that of yours?
Bella mowing the lawn. Great, the big bad Marine can't even mow the fucking lawn? What a loser! And how many lawns have YOU mowed lately?
The next shot hit me in the gut. Bella holding a little girl's hand. I couldn't see the kid, so I didn't know for sure she was Bella's. But the likelihood seemed high.
It got worse.
Bella and Jacob Black laughing as they sat on their front porch, their faces turned toward each other. It was a head shot mostly, just the edges of their shoulders visible in the photo. She didn't seem as tired when she was looking at him. Their eyes were locked, and a little smile tugged at her lips. My smile. That was my fucking smile and she was giving it to him.
Bella and Jacob Black in their car. She was driving, he looked…thoughtful. The kid wasn't with them in either of those shots – not on the porch or in the car.
Maybe it wasn't her kid.
Then one of Bella at a playground, pushing the little girl in one of those swings that straps the kid in so they don't fall out. I could see the kid clearly now. It was definitely a little girl around two years old. Something about the kid's face was… Well, it was different…odd…unsettling. The girl was smiling widely, her dark eyes turned up to Bella, who grinned at her. Their hair was the same color, warmest brown. Something about the girl though… I studied it for a moment, while my damaged mind tried to fill in the gaps. The pieces finally fell into place.
Down's Syndrome.
Bella's daughter had Down's Syndrome. This was what Jenks had meant. She had enough on her plate. I couldn't fix that for her. No one could. There was no get out of jail free card for that one. What a cruel joke for the fates to play on a woman who would have no reason to see it coming. Bella looked happy, however, despite what logic said must be a hellish existence. I saw nothing in her smile to indicate anything but pride and love for her daughter.
That would be typical of Bella. She'd managed to love me long after I was unlovable. She had a soft spot for damaged goods. Sometimes I had to wonder how someone so naïve could exist. At least that little girl would be affectionate and giving and deserving of Bella's love. I was glad of that, for Bella's sake. She needed something to hold onto in her fucked up life.
But there was more, and Jenks had known what a asshole I was. He had warned me – warned me to leave her alone. "They've been through enough…"
I knew now why Black was out of the military. The angle of the other pictures had been deceptive. He had looked healthy and whole. That was so fucking far from the truth. This shot, of Jake in a tee-shirt and shorts and holding Bella's hand, revealed the awful reality. The healthy man I had seen in the other pictures was a lie of perspective.
Jacob Black had apparently been injured during his service – horribly injured. His right arm and leg were missing, replaced by clumsy, obviously government-issued prostheses. There was scarring on the right side of his face as well. He didn't look fucked up enough to scare little children, but the symmetry of his face was ruined. The Marine from the wedding photo was gone. He and Bella were hand in hand in this picture. He was laughing at something and Bella was looking at him sideways. The look in her eyes told me she didn't see a man who had been torn into pieces and put back together like a puzzle missing a few pieces. She saw something more than that, someone she loved. Adored, maybe.
The moment was so fucking private. I was almost ashamed. It was more intimate somehow than the most explicit porn I'd ever seen. That moment between them, it was like... I don't know, seeing inside their lives.
Leave the lady in peace…
Was it that simple? Could I do it? How could I not? Even I had my limits. Right?
Right?
~OT~
I was in my living room. Bella's picture was staring back at me from the coffee table. Still so beautiful, I mused. Then I looked down at the woman who had my cock in her mouth and was working it for all she was worth. Which wasn't saying much. Her moan was overdone and when she looked up at me I had to close my eyes and pretend.
She had blue eyes.
And it was wrong.
All of it was wrong. I fucked her mouth, trying to lose myself in the sensations. I came with a stuttered moan of sounds. It sounded a little like Bella's name, but I knew that wasn't possible. When my indifferent orgasm faded, I pushed the woman's mouth away like a used tissue. She had served her purpose, now she was nothing more than trash.
To be tossed aside. Thrown away. Disposable.
Everything in my fucking life was disposable. Even me. Especially me.
~OT~
The dream feels wrong tonight.
She is there, but separate. Her mouth smiles, but her eyes are sad. There is a veil between them. He can feel her but not really touch her. He can see her, but the image is hazy and fleeting and slipping from his grasp.
When he puts his hands on her, he senses that her body trembles from something other than desire. "Hold me," she whispers. He knows she is asking for something but she will not say the words. She needs something from him but he doesn't know what it is. He feels the knowledge dance just out of reach.
Then his flesh pierces hers and he loses his tenuous grasp on the truth. It doesn't matter. He has her now. He's inside of her. He's part of her, however briefly. It will be enough. It has to be enough.
He holds her as he moves inside of her, losing himself in the sensation of her body clutching at his. The words fill his throat, threatening to spill out with his seed. As if sensing his treachery, she puts her slender fingers over his lips.
"Just fuck me," she tells him.
He wants to howl. The words are wrong...all wrong. What he does to her isn't fucking. God help him, it isn't. It's love, at the core, and the crux of it, it's love.
And that's the most dangerous thing of all.
Author's Note: I want to just say that Edward's thoughts on Bella's daughter are his own. I am the mother of a special needs child (well, he's an adult now, but you know what I mean) so I have some experience in how cruel people can be.