Previously
There was nothing but cold, maniacal laughter on the other end of the line.
"What do you want from me?" Bella screamed into the phone. "Isn't it enough that you killed my mom, my dad, my aunt, my uncle, my cousins and my grandmother? Isn't that enough for you?"
"No dearest Bella," the cold voice cackled. "No dear it never will be. Not until I have tasted your blood."
Bella POV
I wrapped my arms around myself, rocking back and forth on the couch, feeling the icy chill of my blood running cold through my veins. I could barely hear the frantic gasps for breath whooshing in and out of my lips, never reaching my lungs. My vision blurred with tears, hot salty tears tumbling down my face.
Edward snapped the phone shut in a flash, the entire family seeming frozen apart from him. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders, comforting me silently. Jasper and Rosalie were too shocked to disapprove of the obviously caring gesture.
No sooner had I relaxed into Edward's side, the phone rang again. I screamed shrilly, flinging the phone across the room. It broke against the wall with a crack, the battery falling out and the screen flickering black.
Just like my parents' eyes as he killed them, their blood staining the white carpets, the lights leaving their eyes as they died. I couldn't restrain the second scream, shrieking loudly, fearfully.
Edward secured his arms around me, containing my flailing limbs as he did. "Shh," he breathed. "Shh, Bella it's okay. I won't let anything happen to you."
My panicked choking slowed, calming as he rocked me back and forth. I had no idea how he had such a control over me, how even the smallest of words he whispered in my ear soothed my panic attacks that usually lasted hours. I had a therapist for four years after Esme adopted me and not even she could calm me. Jasper could but his calming force always seemed just that: a force. It wasn't the sweet soothing aura Edward exerted.
Of course by now Rosalie noticed Edward and I. She glared daggers at him, her ice blue eyes flashing dangerously. I couldn't bring myself to pull away from him but I did. I wouldn't let anything hurt him, not when I could stop it. There was so much I couldn't stop, but this I could. My sister could claw his eyes out with the heel of her stiletto if she was determined enough and me, well I was a pretty good reason in her mind.
A hurt expression flashed across Edward's face before he hid it behind a stoic mask.
"Sleep now Bells," Esme ordered, smoothing my hair in a motherly fashion. "Carlisle dear if you could…"
"Of course," Carlisle complied. He pulled a syringe and a small bottle from his black bag, drawing a clear liquid sedative into the tube. My pulse pounded in my ears and I shied away from the needle, a scream building in my throat.
"No Bella," Edward murmured too quietly for the rest to hear. "You need to sleep. You've had a hard day. You need rest." I gazed into his eyes as the dull prick of the needle protruded my skin. His emerald green eyes stared straight back into mine, his hand curled around mine, containing my scream. He kept me calm, soothed.
My eyelids slowly drooped shut and I felt the slow rock back and forth, back and forth as someone's arms carried me up the stairs.
"Jazzy?" I whispered, almost too quietly for anyone to hear.
He was at my side in an instant, tucking a lock of my hair behind my ear. With an easy twist he placed me in the tan leather armchair. "Yeah Bells?" he answered gazing sympathetically at me from where he knelt in front of me.
"How…" I couldn't manage to get the words out but he knew what I was asking.
"Not long," he said sorrowfully. "We should be out of here by dark."
"How long have I been out?" I inquired softly.
"Twenty-four maybe twenty-five hours," he answered, seeing the fear in my eyes.
I nodded, knowing the drill of house skipping back and front. I had been moved across the globe for two years, narrowing my packing time down to four minutes three point five seconds.
"We have ten minutes to pack," I informed them. "And go," I sighed to myself. I clicked the button on my watch. They all raced up the stairs, Alice and Rosalie grumbling silently about how little time to pack they had. Edward hung back, helping me up the stairs, his arm around my waist.
"You're used to this," he commented quietly. "You seem too used to this, packing up and jumping ship."
I snorted derisively. "I had to be. Once in Peru I had to pack my stuff when he was just down the road. I could see him Edward. I could see the whites of his eyes as he stared at me through the window. I felt cold just looking at him."
"Is that why everything you pass is organized and clearly mapped out?" he inquired as we reached the top landing.
I nodded again. "It was one of the lessons I burned into my mind. If everything is where it should be I can grab what I need and get out in less that five minutes. I can live on what I pack for over a year without ever leaving."
"How do you eat though?" he asked stopping outside my door.
"I was nearly twenty five pounds underweight when Esme took me in. She fed me and nursed me until I was okay again," I mumbled.
"But you're not okay," he said knowingly. "You're not fine and you know it. You know you aren't too. It's not something you can just pass over."
"Yes it is and I have," I snapped, knowing deep in my gut he was right. I could never get over the sight of my parents' dead mangled, blood mottled bodies.
"I'm just trying to help," he defended himself, both hands in the air. When I didn't respond he turned on his heel and disappeared into his room.
Guilt mixed with another emotion I could hardly recognize as emptiness welled inside of me, watching him walk away from me. I had lost so many people, so many had left but none of them I chased away. I had never rejected anyone. I was too afraid to loose someone to make them go away. There were too many people that were taken from me. Edward, though we hated each other for the majority of time, saved me. He kept me away from the AWPP. I owed him my sanity and I snapped at him.
I packed mechanically, throwing two pairs of jeans, one pair of shorts, two sweat pants, seven shirts, ten underwear sets, a sweatshirt, a fleece jacket and a snow jacket. After tossing my toiletries and a few simple things to keep me occupied, three paperback books, my ipod, and a sketchpad, I dragged my bag downstairs.
Sitting on the couch, waiting in the living room was Edward. His bag sat next to him on the couch as he listened to something on his ipod.
I took one deep shaky breath before sitting next to him.
"Edward I know you can hear me and I know you're probably pissed with me," I began. He made no move to suggest he heard me but I knew by one quick glance that his ipod wasn't even on. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to overreact the way I did but… well… no one ever tries to talk about what happened to me. I don't want them too. And then you just jump in and ask all these questions. I'm sorry okay?"
I sighed standing up again, grabbing my keys and hoisting my bag higher on my shoulder.
"Have you even considered that maybe talking would make it better?" Edward quipped. He didn't move, not opening his eyes or removing his ear buds. There was no sign he had spoken but I knew in my gut I hadn't imagined it.
"Talking about them won't bring them back," I said over the lump in my throat. "Nothing can and nothing will."
He said nothing more on the subject, continuing to stare out into the white wall. "We should get our stuff in the cars," he instructed, hitching his bag over his shoulder. He shoved his ipod in the back of his bag pulling the door open and leading me out. "How are you holding up?" he asked gently, a sudden change from the dark brooding mood he had been in just a moment before.
"I honestly can't tell," I mumbled, staring at the ground beneath my feet. I could feel his eyes boring into my face but it wasn't a bad look. "I'm just worried."
"You should be," a snake like drawled. I whipped my head up to face him, knowing, dreading the face I would find. My breath choked in my throat, my head spinning.
A warm soft hand, Edward's hand pushed me back, shielding me behind his back. His hand caught mine, remaining with me. "It's okay Bella," he whispered, his smooth voice floating around me. "I'll take care of this."
"I think I can do that," James sneered. His hand rose, a gun in it, pointed straight at Edward. "Scream and he dies first."
"No!" I pleaded. I shoved past Edward, standing before him. "Please. Please. You've taken everyone but this family from me. You can't kill them. Me. Please me instead."
"Now why would any of this matter to me?" James asked lazily the gun aimed straight at my rapidly rising and falling chest. James' short crop blonde hair was in a mess, leaves and small twigs sticking up in the tangled chaos.
"Because everyone died because of me," I said, my voice quavering violently. "Everyone died because you wanted me. You can't kill anyone else."
He shook his head, smiling evilly and almost disappointedly. "Tut, tut Isabella," he sighed. His hand holding the gun never quavered, not once. "It's always about them. It's always about someone else. It's never about you. That's what you do wrong. It's never about you."
"This time it is about me," I breathed desperately, grasping at anything that could save my family's life. "This is about me and that I don't want anyone else to die."
"That's not good enough," he said laughing. James had the nerve to stand in front of me as I told him why I didn't want my family to die and laugh. He stood there laughing at me. "Say goodnight Isabella," he whispered darkly.
I bit my lip, holding back my scream before it would summon my family. The bang would be enough time for James to make his escape. My family would get out alive if I could last long enough.
And there it was. The bang. The sound of the trigger going off. The bullet. I waited for the pain, the explosion of fire and then the end but instead I felt something else, saw something else. Edward jerked my arm, making me fall towards the ground. The bullet soared straight through where my head would have been, straight into Edward's chest. Edward falling; Edward hitting the ground; Edward closing his eyes; Edward's blood pooling under his hand.
"No!" I screamed, agony flooding through me. My head pounded furiously, tears falling from my cheeks as the pain, not physical pain but mental washed over me again and again. "No! Edward!" I crawled to his body, pressing my trained hands over his wound. "Don't die," I whispered. "Please you can't leave me."
"How sweet," James cooed sickeningly. "How very sentimental. He died for you, you know? He died for a lost cause because here you sit. And here I stand. I'm going to kill you." He said it so calm, with such conviction that it made the words so much more threatening.
I drew in a shuddering breath before replying. "Fine," I gasped. "Kill me. I don't care."
He shook his head again, chuckling. "Not yet Bella darling. You need to learn patience. You need to wait. I will kill you. But not yet."
I didn't even see the gun move; not the flash of the gun, the shot of the bullet. Only the pain, the hurt that burned within me. For Edward. I had already had this before. I had already felt this. Every time. Every time he found me this is how it ended. But it never ended. I never died. And I wouldn't die now. He wouldn't kill me, me. He would kill me. He would pick off everyone that mattered to me until I had nothing, was nothing. It was my death without peace. My death of deaths would never come because he would never let it.
Okay two of my stories have to go on hold. AIP is exempt. It has to be either BDH, PMS (ha ha I didn't realize these were the initials of my story), or FH. I'll put up the poll this evening. I have a lot of things to do and or big tests are coming up this year in April. Over the summer I'll continue working on them after my uncle's wedding. Please vote.
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