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Prey For Protection

"I cannot think of any need in childhood as strong as the need for a father's protection."

~Sigmund Freud

Chapter Four:

For the second time that day it was the sensation of the plane touching down that brought me back from my thoughts. We were arriving at SEA-TAC airport, symbolizing the end of my journey by air. My entire body was stiff and sore, and my arms felt like lead when I reached overhead for my carry on. Bag in hand I slowly made my way off the plane and into the terminal.

Charlie was waiting for me at baggage claim just like we'd arranged. He had dark circles under his usually warm brown eyes; and they were puffy from an obvious lack of sleep. In fact, he looked down right exhausted; but on seeing me he forced a smile as he wrapped me in a warm embrace. He'd traded his uniform for a pair of dark jeans and a gray cotton t-shirt; both looked rumpled, as if he'd slept in them.

"Everything been ok so far? No trouble? No sign of anybody following you?" He asked.

I forced my own smile and nodded, as we pulled apart. "So far so good, everything's gone exactly like you said it would dad." I answered, trying to sound as reassuring as I could. "I don't think he'll really try to follow me," I added softly, we both knew that was a lie. "But with the non-direct route you booked me on you probably should've got some more sleep and let me fly into Port Angeles instead of driving all the way to Seattle."

He huffed noisily and mumbled something incoherent under his breath and wordlessly set about helping me collect my luggage. Thirty minutes later, all of my bags were safely stowed in the trunk of Charlie's police cruiser; and we were pulling out of the short term parking garage. I sent Renee and Tiffany each a text message as Charlie merged onto the highway on our way to Forks.

We drove in silence for a while. I was trying to study Charlie's profile out of the corner of my eye. Every few minutes he'd grimace or shake his head. He'd aged considerably since I'd seen him last, two summers ago. I felt a pang of guilt as I realized that worrying over me had probably caused a great deal of it.

He cleared his throat and threw me a quick glance, "So Bells," he started uneasily, "have you uh, seen or heard from him at all this week?"

I told him as briefly as possible about the note we'd found on Renee's car at the mall.

I watched as anger flashed across his face, which wasn't something I was accustomed to seeing on Charlie. He was laid back, gentle, upstanding and honest. He was a small town sheriff. A genuine Good ole boy. He was also fiercely protective of the things that mattered to him; it was what made him such a good cop. I realized at that very moment that it was also what made him such a good father.

"Did you bring them with you? The letters and all?" he asked.

"Yeah they're in one of my suitcases." I didn't really understand why he wanted them, but he'd been adamant about my bringing them with me.

We chatted off and on about nothing of any significance, neither of us really wanting to discuss James yet. Soon we settled into a weary yet comfortable silence.

We stopped near Bremerton and had dinner at a portside diner. Charlie excused himself to make a couple of phone calls while we waited on our food. He stepped outside, but stayed right in front of the diner, never letting me out of his sight. I had the distinct impression that he was more anxious than he was letting on.

I watched him as he spoke animatedly on his cell phone. I had an inexplicable feeling that whoever he was talking to, he was talking about me. I watched him close his phone and them immediately dial another number. The second call was much shorter and after shoving the phone into the pocket of his jeans he came back inside. He was making his way back to the table as the waitress brought our plates.

"Everything ok?" I asked as he slid back into his seat.

"Huh? Oh the phone calls… Yeah, yeah everything's fine Bells." He grabbed his burger with both hands and gave me what I'm sure was supposed to be a reassuring smile before aggressively digging in and ending any possibility of further conversation.

I picked over my salad barely eating half of it. My stomach had been in knots for months, and my appetite was practically nonexistent. Renee had fussed at me incessantly about not eating. She had me taking a ton of vitamins in an effort to compensate for my lack of interest in food. I'd gone down a whole pant size since this crazy mess started, the bad part was that I didn't really have any weight to lose. Even I had to admit that my face was gaunt, my ribs were obvious, my hipbones jutted out and my arms and legs looked like sticks. I resolved to make an effort to eat more regularly.

Charlie paid the tab and we settled back into the cruiser. Charlie seemed like he was miles away, so I passed the time wondering what my friends and family in Phoenix were doing. We were each lost in our own thoughts, and we drove the rest of the way to Forks in silence.

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As we turned onto Charlie's street I couldn't help but notice just how little things had changed. As a child I was here two weeks every summer up until I was twelve. At twelve I put my foot down (repeatedly and with more than a few tears, screams, and pleas for mercy) I loved Charlie, but I hated fishing, I hated rain, and I HATED Forks. So Charlie and I started spending a week in California together during the summers.

We pulled into the driveway of his house which, like everything else in I'd seen so far, looked almost exactly the same as I'd remembered it. The white siding was weathered and worn. The rose bushes Renee had planted more than a decade ago grew wild, some of their branches tangling amongst the slats of the front porch. I glanced into the forest that surrounded the house on three sides; it had seemed incredibly scary as a child. Absolutely everything around us seemed to be covered in green.

We unloaded my luggage and Charlie helped me carry it into the house. I immediately followed him through the living room and up the narrow staircase, praying to stay upright as I struggled with two suitcases as well as my innate clumsiness. He pointed out the only bathroom at the top of the stairs before stepping past the door to my old bedroom gesturing for me to go on ahead.

Once inside I dropped the two suitcases I was carrying and looked around my old room. The walls were the same light yellow they'd always been; and the sun-faded gold colored curtains that hung in the windows had been there since before I was born. They were worn so thin they didn't seem to block out any light at all. The right wall held a long bookshelf filled with art supplies and a variety of books that ranged from Mother Goose to Nancy Drew. Against the far wall was my old twin-sized bed; and lying atop it was the old quilt that Grandma Swan hand made for me when I was two years old. I approached the bed and gently brushed my fingers across the quilt, absently tracing the patterns.

The left wall housed the only new addition to the bedroom, a large, sturdy looking oak desk and a rolling chair. They both appeared to be second hand, but I was touched that he was obviously making an effort to make the most of our situation, and to make me comfortable.

Charlie set the rest of my luggage down in front of the closet and watched me look around the room. After a couple minutes of awkward silence, he cleared his throat. "Well, I uh, I guess I'll give you a chance to get settled. If you need anything just ya know… let me know. Ok?"

"Sure," I said.

He nodded and walked to the door. "Ok," he replied. He looked torn, like there was something else he wanted to say but for some reason thought better of it. Finally he said, "Well, I think we've both had a pretty long day. I'm gonna go downstairs and catch the news and then I'm gonna call it a night." He walked back to my side and gave me a brief one-armed hug before adding, "I'm glad you're here Bells. Really. And I uh… I want you to know, I promised your mom and I promise you, you'll be safe here. I won't let anything happen to you." He shuffled his feet uncomfortably; Charlie wasn't one for speeches or emotional outpourings. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of my head and half mumbled, "I'll uh… I'll see you ya in the morning kiddo," before escaping downstairs to his flat screen and his recliner gently closing the door behind him.

When I heard him moving down the stairs, I threw myself onto the bed with a heavy sigh. I'd made it to Forks. I realized for the first time that a part of me hadn't actually expected to make it out of Phoenix. I had to admit that lying in my old bedroom, on top of my old quilt, I felt safer than I'd permitted myself to feel in a long time. Charlie's words resounded in my head, 'I promise you; you'll be safe here. I won't let anything happen to you.' His words seemed to caress and soothe my frazzled nerves.

I didn't feel like James was waiting to jump out of my closet, or watching through my window. He was almost 1600 miles away, and he had absolutely no clue where I was. There was a chance he hadn't even realized that I'd left yet. Charlie was the chief of police, a bona fide crime fighter, that's just a couple notches down from super hero isn't it? Surely I'd be safe with him. I felt the inklings of a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth, as I stood from the bed and busied myself unpacking and settling into my new, old room. And for the first time in what felt like forever, I allowed myself to hope.

By the time I finished unpacking it was after midnight. I heard Charlie snoring in the living room as I tiptoed out of my room and into the bathroom. I showered, brushed my teeth, and slipped into my favorite pajamas, brown cotton pants and brown and white striped tank top. I quietly snuck down the stairs and turned off the television. Charlie was still snoring from his beige la-z-boy, and as tired as he looked earlier I didn't have the heart to disturb him. I grabbed the bright orange afghan from the back of the couch and carefully draped it over his sleeping form.

I switched off the lamp and headed back up the stairs. I caught myself on the handrail when I tripped over the next to the last step and froze with bated breath hoping I hadn't disturbed Charlie. I heard him snore again a moment later and quickly made my way back into my room.

I turned off my light and climbed into bed pulling my quilt snugly up around my shoulders. I nestled into the mattress and felt my eyes grow heavy immediately. As I lay there on the verge of sleep I thought, 'maybe now the nightmares will stop. Now that I'm safe…'

Then again… Maybe not…

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I KNEW I was dreaming. I was walking through the forest, just leisurely strolling amidst the trees and humming to myself, when I noticed something up ahead. There was a piece of red paper fluttering in the breeze where it was hanging on the trunk of one of the trees up ahead. I walked toward the tree and recognized the thick red paper and the handwriting immediately. James. The message was simple.

I'll find you.

I turned but saw another red piece of paper on the next tree. I wanted to turn and run but I was pulled to investigate. This sheet bore the same script and a similar message.

You can't hide forever.

As I made to run away I realized that there were similar messages hanging from each and every tree that I could see. My breath was coming in short gasps and tears were burning my eyes as I ran blindly through the forest. I felt my foot catch on something and threw my hands out in a desperate attempt to catch myself as I tumbled.

I wiped at the tears with my back of my hand and tried to calm my breathing as I realized I was lost in the forest. I pulled myself back onto my feet and spun slowly in place, looking for some clue as to which direction I'd come from.

There was a snap, like a tree branch breaking, and then I heard his voice.

"Is-a-bel-la…" he laughed, and the sound of it chilled me to the bone.

I turned and took a tentative step, but I couldn't tell which direction his voice was coming from. I certainly didn't want to run to him.

"Where do you think you're going? Hmmm Is-a-bel-la?"

I heard a rustling behind me and I didn't wait to see what it was. I just ran. I ran like I'd never ran before and I prayed that momentum would overrule gravity and keep me moving forward instead of falling down.

I could hear him behind me. I didn't dare look out for fear that he was right behind me. He kept laughing and taunting me by chanting my name "Is-a-bel-la," followed by another fit of his dark maniacal laughter. He was getting closer. I felt the air at my neck where he tried to grab at me. I pushed myself harder, trying to dig into the damp earth with my bare feet in order to get better traction.

There was a break in the trees ahead. My legs and lungs were on fire and my bare feet felt like they were riddled with cuts as I pressed on hoping against hope that through those trees I'd find my salvation. Just as I got to the trees I felt his cold grip on my shoulder and I screamed. I screamed and kicked and clawed with everything I had.

He started shaking me, and the more he touched me the warmer his hands got, as if he were absorbing my body heat. His laughter faded and he gently slapped my face. "Bella!" he said, but it wasn't his voice, it was Charlie's. Charlie was calling for me!

"Come on Bells, wake up. Wake up honey, it's just a dream. You're safe Bells."

I opened my eyes and was momentarily surprised to be back in bed, and even more so to find myself staring into Charlie's concerned gaze. He was sitting on the edge of my bed and he smiled softly down at me when he realized I was awake.

"Hey there," he said soothingly, "you ok?"

"Yeah, just a, just a bad dream." My heart was still racing but I had managed to regulate my breathing. I realized there was sunlight shining through the curtains. "What time is it?" I asked, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

Charlie straightened up and chuckled. "It's a few minutes after ten. I was just coming up to see if you wanted some breakfast when I heard you yellin'. If you're sure you're all right the offer still stands. How does scrambled eggs and toast sound?"

"Sounds great." I answered, hoping my stomach would accept the food so soon after being wrapped in knots again.

"Good, cause to be honest, that's about all I can cook," he admitted good-naturedly. "See ya downstairs in fifteen minutes?"

"Sure," I offered with what I hoped would pass for a genuine smile.

He nodded and left to take care of breakfast as I climbed out of bed and started getting ready for my first day in Forks. I changed into a pair of dark blue jeans and a white cotton tank top with lace eyelets down the front and stopped off in the bathroom to brush my hair and teeth before joining Charlie in the kitchen.

Charlie's kitchen was just like the rest of the house, unchanged. The off white tile on the floor was discolored with age. Renee had painted the cabinets yellow back when she lived here in an effort to brighten up the room. It actually made the kitchen a little more special to me, like the memory of Renee's presence was stronger in this room.

Over breakfast Charlie kept up a light-hearted stream of conversation. He talked a bit about Forks High School, where I'd be attending classes once the school year started in three weeks. He mentioned old friends to see if I remembered any of them, and he told stories about his fishing trips. Once we'd finished eating I collected our plates and washed up the dinner dishes. When I finished and realized he was still sitting at the table I sat back down opposite him.

"Bells, I know you don't especially wanna talk about this whole James mess. It's, well hell it's not one of my favorite subjects either, but I think we should go over everything as soon as possible and get it out of the way. You ok with that?" His eyes met mine questioningly.

I sighed. "Ok…"

He cleared his throat and rose from his seat to start pacing across the kitchen floor. "Well, I was hoping we could maybe have a little meeting. I figure that way you only have to go over it once. I can have Stan from the station come by and I'd like Billy here too."

"Um… Who's Stan? And who's Billy? And why do you want me to tell them about all this?"

"Well," he started, settling back into his seat at the table. "Stan, Stan Hawthorne, he's deputy sheriff and a good friend. He already knows that there's a psycho been harassing you and he's asked to help in anyway possible. I trust him completely; and you can too. And Billy. You remember Billy Black? Almost always went fishin' with us when you used to visit?"

I nodded as an image of a dark-haired Native American man with a quick smile and kind eyes came to mind. He and Charlie had been friends since they were boys. He had two daughters, both older than me and every bit as shy as I'd been; and a son that was younger than the rest of us.

"Well," Charlie went on, "of course Billy says he's got a personal interest in this as much as I do. He wants to help. He mentioned maybe sending a couple of his boys to Forks High this year to help keep an eye on ya. I was kind of thinkin' about home school myself, at least for a while…"

"Dad NO!" I cut in. I hadn't come all this way to stay holed up in hiding every day. "You said-"

"I know. I know Bells. It was just a thought; maybe for the first couple months… make sure there wasn't any trouble. Anyway, Billy told me there was no way you'd go for it," he grinned. "So he thought he'd have a couple of his boys transfer just as a precaution to keep an eye out for anything suspicious. They're familiar with the folks around here, they'd notice an outsider whereas you wouldn't ya know?"

He was looking at me in earnest and I couldn't help but feel like he was silently urging me to agree. "I told you that you'll be safe here Bells, and I meant that; but we still have to keep our guard up. I don't want you to be afraid, but I also need you to be aware. There's no doubt in my mind that this James is on crazy son of a bit… err gun, means just to be safe we gotta expect the unexpected. Fortunately the crazies tend to get bored fast or get messy or lazy and they get themselves caught. When that happens we'll throw caution to the wind, but until then Bells, I'd appreciate it if you could promise not to hide ANYTHING from me and to do everything I tell you to do when and how I tell you to do it. Can you do that for Bells? Can I count on you? Can I trust you?"

I knew he'd been going out of his mind with worry until I'd arrived here. He deserved nothing less than 100% of my faith and cooperation. I even had to admit that he had a point about my inability to spot 'an outsider' at school, but then again I knew what James and his friends looked like, and they were the only ones I had to worry about. I searched his eyes for some sign of what he obviously wasn't telling me, but all I saw was fatigue, love and concern.

I agreed with a nod and said, "Of course you can dad." Then in an effort to convey my decision to submit to his over-protectiveness I asked, "So when this meeting?"

He smiled gratefully and said, "Let me make s couple calls. I need you to go get all that stuff he gave you, whatever you brought. I'm pretty sure I can get'em here today."

He pulled out his cell phone and started dialing as I went up to my room to get the shoebox that held the messages that I'd received from James over the course of the last year. I walked to the closet and grabbed the shoebox from it's out of sight out of mind perch on the floor in the back corner of the closet. Underneath it was the black leather journal that I'd religiously kept since freshman year when James gave it to me as a birthday gift.

I was still sitting on the floor in the closet when I heard Charlie call up the stairs, "Don't take too long up there Bells, they're on their way!"

I took a deep breath and prayed for the strength to get through Charlie's meeting. All I had to do was go over it all one more time, and then I could move on and start my new life here in Forks. I'd go to school and try to make some new friends and finally settle into a normal life. I can do this, I told myself as I rose from my spot on the floor to join Charlie in the kitchen. I can do this.

A/N: As always, thanks for reading!