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Chapter 6
The grey and overcast light of dawn was creeping over the trees as I flew to the darkened edges of the woods. I could hear him knocking before I stopped running, but the sound of his knock was completely overshadowed by the sound – the beautiful sound – of her waking heart.
"Bella."
I whispered her name just so I could hear it. Out loud and tangible. Real. She was real and beautiful and only moments before, she had been in my arms. I fucking hated him for taking that moment away from me…and hated him more for causing me to break the promise I'd made to her that I wouldn't be like 'everyone else.'
That I would never leave.
But I had…and I wondered if she could forgive me.
The sound of her elevated and irritated voice pulled me from my thoughts. She was very angry and he…he was distraught. Even though I was angry with him, I could tell from his thoughts that he was distressed and concerned. Worried. He was worried that she was upset with him. And from what I could tell from the tone of her voice and the choice of her words, she was.
She asked what he was doing there and I wished that I could hear her thoughts. To know if she was wondering where I was. Was she as devastated as me? Did she think me a liar? She must have known that I could not stay with another person – with him – approaching. He would not understand what was happening. He was under the impression that she loved him the way that he loved her.
And he did.
He loved her.
And then I heard it…heard him. His thoughts shifted quickly from concern and love. Lust. The realization that she – my Bella – was naked. He wanted to see her, to touch her body…to caress her soft skin with his hands. A growl ripped from my chest at the very thought of another man touching her. Of him touching her.
She.
Was.
Mine.
There was no doubt after what we had experienced in the night…in her bed. Having never felt that kind of acceptance for who I was. For what I was. But she…she was tender and giving and so fucking beautiful in her openness. And she was open to me. Her mind, her heart, her arms…and her body. She had received me willingly, lovingly. I had never known that kind of acceptance. And I would never give her up.
Not to him.
Not to anyone.
She asked him to meet her downstairs and I heard his mingled thoughts. He wanted her to ask him to stay…to invite him into her bed. He wanted to offer her comfort and love, both physically and emotionally. He understood she was broken, but he also thought that he could fix her. And I could hear the pain in his mind and he closed the door as he experienced her rejection again…and yet he still hoped.
I heard her gust of air and the movement of her bed. She must have lain down, but what I heard next, shook me to my very core – the center of my stone, cold heart. She said my name.
"Edward."
I was on her lips and in her mind. As she whispered the word, it wafted across the cool, wet air and covered me with a warmth I'd only felt in her arms. I wanted to go back to her…to run to her and beg her to forgive me for leaving. But I couldn't. And I grabbed and pulled my hair in frustration that my damned existence wouldn't allow me to and I cursed my fucking gift for not allowing me the ability to hear her and know what she was thinking.
She eventually made her way downstairs where he was waiting with more words of apology and she listened to him, but not without telling him that his actions had been wrong. I winced in pain as he told her that he loved her, how he knew she could love him, too. My only solace coming from the knowledge that there was no possibility of her returning his affections – not after the way she had given herself to me. She told him that he couldn't speak of 'them' anymore…she told him it was hurtful…and though I couldn't hear her thoughts, I could hear the pain and the hurt in her voice.
I focused in on his thoughts, wanting to know who they were. Wanting to know who had left her and made her feel that she was unworthy of anyone staying. I couldn't imagine anyone leaving her intentionally. Her warmth and beauty were captivating, her heart and mind, enchanting. She was wonderful and it would be so effortless to…
My mind zoned in on his thoughts and their discussion.
Her heart was pounding, the beat of it frantic as he conjured images of them – of her – growing up. And even then, she was beautiful. Young and vibrant and so fucking happy in his mind. She told him that he was a part of all her memories and I tried to ignore the ache in my chest that she was so connected to another man – someone who had known her when she smiled like that. And her smile in his mind was breathtaking.
He told her that it would be so easy for them. That he knew she could love him…but she didn't. And the pain that he felt – that I saw in his mind – crippled him. And I wanted to feel bad for the way he was hurting because in that moment, his pain was almost overwhelming…even to me.
But I couldn't.
I couldn't because the fact that she didn't love him meant the merest possibility that I would be able to hold her again…touch her again…kiss and taste her again.
Even if I didn't deserve it.
And I didn't.
I barely registered the sound of her voice, tight and filled with unshed tears, as she told him she loved him. But she didn't love him like that. And he knew. He knew and he acknowledged it to her, and the entire time his heart was breaking. And I watched as he left. The porch door slamming behind him as he got in his car. His emotions were tossing and turning like the waves in a storm. Lifting him up and then crashing down around him as he fought to accept what he would never really believe was the truth.
That she could never love him.
Not the way he wanted her to.
She followed right behind him as she ran to her truck. She was leaving? She really didn't think I was coming back? She thought I'd left her, too. She thought I was like them. And I wasn't. I had wanted to stay…would have stayed with her as long as she'd allowed it. And I needed her to know. I needed her to know how I felt – how she made me feel. How no one in my existence had ever been so accepting. Of me…of who and what I was. Not even…
No.
I couldn't think about him now.
So, I followed her. It wasn't hard. Her ancient truck barely accelerated enough to do the speed limit. I was able to follow her easily along the edge of the woods. It was still early morning and Bella seemed to be the only person on the road in the small town of Forks. I wondered where she was going. Was she chasing after him? No. She wouldn't. Was she driving to clear her mind? The fact that she's left at all told me that she thought I'd abandoned her. She thought I was lying when I told her I'd never leave after she so willingly offered me her body, so bravely bared her soul.
I ran my hands through my now-dampened hair and fuck, I could still smell her on my hands. My chest rumbled with the memory of what it was like to touch her. I was overcome with desire, as the scent of her sex filled my head. I thought about the way that she felt under my fingers. The fucking way that she tasted on my tongue. She was the only heaven I would ever know – had ever known – in this execrated existence I had been sentenced to so long ago. She was the only light in my eternal darkness and she was lucent and glowing.
Her truck slowed and she pulled from the road onto an old and worn down lot. She parked and I took notice, for the first time, of where we were…where she was. And my thoughts and mind were silenced. She was at a cemetery, surrounded by the dead. Was this who had left her? Had this been how they'd gone? Shirking back, further into the darkened woods, I stood and I watched. Lurking like the monster that I was. Wondering if she would go…if she would kneel at the grave of the person – the people – who'd died and left her all alone.
She didn't.
The sound of her frustrated and anguished voice reverberated in my head.
"It was a dream, Bella," she said forcefully. "A fucking dream!"
I couldn't understand her words…what they meant. What was a dream? A deep and sinking feeling covered me, an anxiety filling my body with questions that I wasn't prepared to answer. She didn't think…she couldn't think…
No.
It was impossible.
Her frail and fragile form stepped down from the cab and she made her way to the front of her truck. Her hair was pulled back and soft, wet tendrils framed her face and her long, elegant neck. She was staring out into the eerie, fog-covered space. Her hands were wringing as her body trembled. Her heartbeat was erratic, stuttering and stopping as she clung to her breath, refusing to exhale or even breathe in. She crawled up on the hood, shivering and wrapping her arms around herself. It was cold…she was cold. And she deserved all the warmth this life would allow her.
And because of that, I knew…she didn't deserve me.
The reality was that I didn't deserve her. I had allowed this to go too far. Had allowed my own selfishness and desire to override and overtake me. And she had given herself so freely – had offered herself, her beautiful body, her warm beating heart. And I…I had taken. Shame covered and shook me as I accepted the staggering and uncompromised truth that I would take again. As long as she'd allow it.
But would she?
I no longer knew.
She sat there, staring out into the distance before her. I wondered why she was there. If she was visiting someone she'd lost, why would she not go to them? Was it still too painful? Was the loss recent and still fresh? And who the fuck was it? Who would have affected her this way? I didn't know and once again, I found myself frustrated that I couldn't read her thoughts.
Her soft and broken voice pulled me and drew me in. I listened closely, taking in and hanging on to each and every word. Begging and pleading that they would give me a sliver of understanding about who she was. Uselessly praying to know what had broken her…and desperately longing to make it better.
"It doesn't get any easier. It makes me think that it never will and maybe…maybe something is wrong with me. Most people aren't like this." Her laughter was biting and sarcastic. "You always told me that I was different…special. You always told me that I was going to be something great, something bigger. And I'm just…not."
Her words broke my silenced heart, for how could someone so giving and beautiful and trusting and pure feel that she wasn't special? Everything about her was so beyond perfection that she was almost divine. Thunder rolled in the distance. It started to rain and I was listening so closely and so aware of everything about her, that I could hear the sound of the mist as it saturated her hair. And my broken heart crumbled as she started to cry. Her tears affected me profoundly. We were selfish creatures by nature. Never concerned with anyone else…never needing to be. But I was beyond concerned.
I was consumed with her.
"I wish that you could tell me what to do about Jacob. He thinks that…well, he thinks that you would want me to choose him. But I don't think I have a choice. I think that it – that love – chooses us. It does, doesn't it?"
Once again, her words shook me. But this time, they stabled and centered me, too. She did not love him, but she questioned if she should – questioned that whoever she was speaking to would want her to love him as well.
"I have never felt that for him…not that I've felt it for anyone else. And I know what you're probably thinking. You're thinking that I haven't allowed it to happen. And maybe that's true to some extent, but I'm just…I'm just not so sure."
She had never been in love.
How was that even possible?
Because she was waiting for…
No.
I couldn't allow myself to think that. To even bestow upon myself the merest hint of the hope that anyone – that she – could possibly feel love for me. I was completely undeserving. How many times would I have to re-learn that lesson? A jarring crash of thunder echoed in the trees that I was standing in. It was almost as if the heavens that had banished me were communicating what I already knew. I was unworthy. Unworthy of her…of her affection…and most definitely her love.
But still, how could she have gone this long…her whole life without feeling that? Without experiencing that? She was so deserving. I wanted to go to her. But this was too personal. What she was doing was too personal…too intimate. This was her secret and from my limited understanding…I didn't think that she shared this with many people. If any at all.
"I have to go now. I wish…I wish that this time could have been different. I wish…I wish for so many things," she whispered, but the sound of her voice resonated loudly and pierced the deep, dark corners of my heart and mind. And her sadness…her sadness scarred my tortured soul. "But wishing doesn't matter."
I heard a crow in the distance and I knew she heard it, too. Her head shifted up in the direction of the sound. There was something that seemed so significant about this moment. And I couldn't help but wonder if she was thinking of me. Would she know that I hadn't wanted to leave her? Would she listen to me if I offered her the reason why?
She shouldn't.
I knew she fucking shouldn't.
But I also know that I would go. I would return to her and beg her to understand. I was not a better man. I wasn't even a hint of the man that I once was. But the remnants of the man that remained inside of me – the man that I found so easily, who awakened in her arms only hours before – he would go. Of that, there was no doubt. Watching her drive away, I knew…I would never be able to stay away. I simply was not strong enough.
But for now…
For now…
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I needed to feed.
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The rain was pouring as I found myself back in the woods that surrounded her house…pacing and waiting. Desperate for her to return. The water rushed down around me as it fell in streams from the branches. It was cold, but I couldn't feel it. I was drenched, but I didn't care. I turned my head upward, allowing the rain to flood my mouth, attempting to wash away the remaining taste that only served as a reminder of why I shouldn't fucking be there.
The kill today had been too easy.
My body was sated…full to the point of discomfort. It had to be done because even as I was aware that her blood did not call to me – and even though I was still perplexed and baffled by that discovery – blood was still blood. And if I allowed myself to get hungry in her presence…
No.
I would never…could never allow that.
I would never fucking hurt her.
Time had become irrelevant to me in my life. Minutes and hours were nothing and days passed like the unnecessary blinks of my eyes. But standing there in the shadows, each moment felt like the vast expanse of eternity…ticking by slowly, torturously…endlessly longing for her.
Where the fuck was she?
I began to get worried, frantic that something was wrong. She had to be exhausted and I fought against the fear of allowing my mind to wonder if she had gone to him. I replayed her words in my mind, remembering the sound of her soft and haunting voice.
"But I don't think I have a choice. I think that it – that love – chooses us. It does, doesn't it?"
I heard the sound of her truck in the distance and my entire body sprung to alert, every cell of my being attuned and pointing to her. She was back and it would be mere moments until I could be with her again. Until I could beg her to forgive me for leaving in the morning when I'd promised that I would stay. I heard the crunch of the gravel underneath her tires and my body relaxed at just the mere sight of her as she ran from the car. She was so fucking beautiful all wet from the rain. And I could smell her intoxicating fragrance as it drifted across to me on the wind.
Fruit and flowers.
Sensual and pure.
She was amazing.
I looked around her house, making sure no one was watching my approach from the woods. The street was silent in the dreary wet of the day. I made my way to her door, wondering if I should knock, but deciding against it. I pushed it open and what I saw stunned me. Her jeans were discarded on the floor and fuck, her panties were there inside them.
I fought the urge to reach down and pick them up, but my own desire got the best of me and I found that I couldn't help myself. Reaching down, I took them in my trembling hand. They were damp from the rain and before I could even lift them to my face to breathe in her scent…the fucking sweet scent of her sex…I could smell her. All of her. That part of her that I had had tasted and loved and lapped with my tongue. And because the memory of that fucking perfect moment consumed me and overpowered my sensibilities, I drew them to my face and breathed in deeply.
Fuck.
She was divine.
I could have licked them…but I didn't. I wanted to lick her.
A few steps ahead, her soaked-through sweater was on the bottom of her stairs, followed closely by her bra. She was upstairs and fucking naked and suddenly, I couldn't get to her soon enough. I quietly took the stairs, two at a time, when I heard the water from the shower. I stood at the top, wondering what I should do. It would scare her if I intruded while she was in there alone, in such a vulnerable state. I didn't want to scare her.
She stepped back out into the hall and I flew to the darkened corner at the top of the stairs. She couldn't see me, but I could see her. She was gorgeous and wrapped in nothing but a soft blue towel. And suddenly, it hit me. I'd hid from her because what I was doing was wrong. I told myself that I didn't want to scare her when fucking everything I'd done up to this point had been scary.
She showered and I waited; my mind and heart warring over what I should do. I knew I should leave, that she had been frightened, but I also knew the way she looked and felt as I'd held her…the way her body had responded to my touch. It had been my name on her lips as she slept, both before and after we'd been so intimate. That had to mean something. And because I needed it to mean something, because I was so desperate for it to mean something…I stayed. I stayed and I hoped – even though I had no right to – that she would forgive me.
For leaving.
For everything.
Because there was not one part of me now – not one single piece of my being – that didn't need her.
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She crawled in her bed before I could work up the nerve to approach her. The only sound in the house was her slowing heartbeat and the pouring rain outside. Thunder crashed causing her to jump, but she settled down quickly, pulling the covers over her head. I heard the sound of her taking a deep breath and just like she'd done so many times before, she shocked and astounded me.
"Edward," she whispered.
And I wanted to cry from the relief that I felt.
But instead…there was only her.
Her sleeping form.
Her forgiving heart.
Her living breath.
Her beautiful name.
"Bella."
I went to her quickly, to the side of her bed, mimicking the night before, as I fell to my knees. Tentatively, I pulled down the blanket to reveal her face to me. She was soft and sweet and perfect and I wanted to hold and kiss her.
"Bella, I'm here," I whispered. "I'm here and I'm so fucking sorry."
Her eyelids fluttered, but did not open. I noticed that the skin beneath her eyes was a deep, dark purple. She was exhausted. She must have been. She'd gotten no sleep the night before. Gently and so fucking carefully, I reached out my hand and stroked her silk skin with my thumb. She shifted closer to my touch, leaning into me and sighing. And I was overcome with a need that I'd never really felt…a need to take care of another person.
"I'm so tired," she whispered even though I knew she was still sleeping.
"I know, Bella," I murmured, wanting even her subconscious to know that I was there. "Rest now…I'll be here when you wake up."
I sat there beside here, watching her sleep and fighting off my desperate need to crawl into bed and hold her against me. My clothes were still wet and I didn't want to be naked with her again without her consent. It was just enough to be close to her, touching her face and breathing in her scent.
As the day dissolved into twilight, I felt a vibration against my leg. Reaching in my pocket, I pulled out my phone. I had a text message from an unknown, but local number.
~x~
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"You can lie to yourself, but you can't lie to me. I know why you're there. – J"
A/N
Reviews are love.
Please, love me.
Thank you for your patience with this chapter. I have been on vacation with my sister for the last week, but I did find some time to write for you guys. Thank you for reading. I adore you all so much!
There is not enough time in the day and not enough words in the thesaurus to tell you how much I love and adore my bestie (I mean beta), Marvar. She makes my words pretty and my chapters readable.
Thank you to Caren (Nerac) and Raina for pre-reading. I flove you both so effing much!
My recc's this week:
Faking It by spanglemaker9: So, I realize that I am way behind with this fic, but I'm telling you about it anyway. I read this story on Tuesday and it consumed my entire day. I loved, loved, loved it! Also, it's complete. Read it and thank me later.
Giofógach by ltlerthqak: I recc'd this in our LiMB update, but this fic deserves to be read by everyone…so, I'm reccing it again! It takes place against the backdrop of a traveling carnival. Bella is a gypsy with a special gift and Edward is her soulmate. Please check it out and leave some review love.