Chapter 13

Heartbreak

I am still rubbing the site of the injection when I hear the crash. Somewhere above me I hear shouting and more crashes and several thuds. I go for the door and realize it's locked. I don't remember seeing him lock it but I'm trapped again. I've had time to get dressed and I step into the shoes as it sounds serious upstairs. When I hear the door to the basement open it sounds like it's being torn from the hinges. I hear more shouting and Stefan screams my name. It feels like a jagged shard of glass tearing through my soul. I hear another huge crash and what sounds to me like loud snarling.

The man I see appear in front of me is no one I recognize. The torn and bloody shirt looks out of place on the raging maniac who fixes his eyes on me where I cower. My eyes register that it's purple; or at least the shirt once was before it was shredded and covered in dark blood. I can't reconcile the creature glaring at me with golden eyes like flame, to the amiable doctor with his family photos. He spares barely a glance at me before he shoulders the door. I'm surprised it holds so well, taking his inhuman attack three times before it crashes in and rebounds off the wall.

The screams I hear are my own as he rushes in and grabs hold of me. His arm crushes me to him and he doesn't even seem to register my weight as he carries me off my feet with one arm. With the glass wall before him he ignores the door and barrels through the wall like a wrecking ball It crashes outward like a movie set; coming apart in huge busted sheets. I barely have time to think as we're racing toward the exit door with a speed that threatens to give me whiplash.

I'm confronted with the rubble that used to be the wooden staircase. They've been destroyed and the door at the top is splintered and hanging by one nail. He pauses momentarily, as if trying to figure out how to get me to the top. Out of the destruction there's movement. A bloodless white hand grasps his ankle in a death grip and I scream. The wood falls away and I see what looks like Stefan...only he's broken and torn. It's impossible that he's still alive considering the way his bones are contorted and the gaping wounds oozing onto his once white shirt.

"Please!" He gasps as Carlisle shakes free of the offending hand. I watch horrified as he stands, pulling himself up onto rapidly mending misshapen limbs. "You cannot take her!" I hear the grating of bones as he seems to get stronger by the moment. I'm suddenly standing on my own feet as Carlisle has released me and turns to face Stefan.

I barely have time to duck behind a crate when I hear them snarl at one another. It's ferocious and inhuman and I know I won't soon forget it. Stefan leaps onto Carlisle and tears a chunk out of his neck with his teeth. I watch in shock and disbelief as Carlisle flings him across the room where he smashes into a wall. The sound is like brittle, snapping, wood, but Stefan barely pauses as he returns, running at Carlisle to crash into him as they both collide into a stack of wooden crates. I look but see no way out of the nightmare. Stefan is pounding Carlisle repeatedly into the stone floor, to the sound of more snapping. When Carlisle grabs his arms in his strong hands his grip is enough to break the bones once again and Stefan howls in frustration as his hands fall away. The advantage changes rapidly and I watch him pick up Stefan and smash him into the floor. I see and hear the bones in his spine compress and crush before Carlisle presses the advantage and begins kicking with inhuman speed and strength. Each blow reports the damage with cracks, grating, and crunching, along with sickly wet thuds.

I can't imagine it's possible for anyone to live through an attack of this magnitude but I'm wrong. From where I cower I see his face, and for one moment his eyes meet mine. He stretches a twisted arm my way and whispers my name. I'm not sure if it's his power or just my desire to go to comfort him, but I leave my hiding spot. I kneel down by his head and reach to touch his face when I am grabbed roughly around my middle. Carlisle pulls me against him with one arm tight around my stomach and his other hand holding my face. He forces my head to the side and back against his shoulder and I'm reminded of watching Lucian die, only this time it's my turn. I can't take in enough air to scream and I feel his lips on my throat, making a seal so as not to lose even one drop of my blood. I feel the teeth against my skin. I reach down helplessly and whisper his name..."Stefan."

The bite never comes. He breaks the seal and he's whispering in words I can barely hear or understand. "Father please forgive me! Humble yourselves therefore under the mighty hand of God, that he may exalt you in due time. Casting all your care upon him; for he careth for you. Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom he may devour. Whom resist steadfast in the faith, knowing that the same afflictions are accomplished in your brethren that are in the world. But the God of all grace, who hath called us unto his eternal glory by Christ Jesus, after that ye have suffered a while, make you perfect, establish, strengthen, and settle you. To him be the glory and dominion for ever and ever, Amen!"

His arms loosen and he picks me up like a child and holds me against his chest. In two steps we are where the stairs would have ended and he leaps to the doorway effortlessly. At the doorway I see destruction. The kitchen is a battle zone, with holes in the walls and the appliance looking as if they have been thrown. He wastes no time surveying the damage as he carries me through the house to the very door I came in through just days ago. My purse still rests on the table and I scoop it up as he carries me outside. He's running and I must not weigh anything to him. The morning sun is out and I'm fascinated as it glints and sparkles off of his exposed skin.

Around the corner of the garage comes the dog. Barking and snarling it races toward us with vicious intent. Carlisle fixes his eyes on the dog's and snarls from deep in his chest. The animal stops dead in it's tracks before reversing and running away, whimpering. He puts me down long enough to throw open the garage door and he ushers me inside where he pauses a second looking at two beautiful cars; one a charcoal gray luxury car and the other a bright red sports car. With a grin he unlocks the red one and hurries me into the passenger seat. In seconds we are out of the garage and flying down quiet streets faster than should be possible without risking life and limb.

I watch him as his body seems to mend even as he drives the car at breakneck speeds. "Do me a favor and see what's in the glove box – I could really use a cloth or something to wipe off the blood." I look and find protectant wipes for the car and he smiles. "That will work for now." He tears off several and wipes his face and other areas that have recently been torn and bleeding. He rakes his fingers through his hair, and except for the tatters of his shirt, he almost looks normal. "I sincerely apologize for my behavior. I came to help you not to put you in more danger. He will follow us, as soon as he is somewhat recovered." He shifts the car into a higher gear and steps down on the gas. "You have to get as far away as possible. I'm taking you to the airport and you will catch the first departing flight no matter where it's going. From that destination you may go home, but I advise you not to stay there. He knows where you live and he will come for you. "

"Why would he do that? Once I'm away I shouldn't have any influence or pull on him." I still can't understand what happened and why I have to flee.

"I know he will...because I would in his place. He has claimed you as his. I'm not sure why he believes he owns you, but he will want you back. He fought me not to take you away, but I had no choice if I wanted to save your life." He doesn't look my way as he weaves in and out of traffic like the cars are standing still.

"He promised me he wouldn't kill me. What changed? I mean he spent the whole night with me and didn't even try to hurt me. I trust him Carlisle...he isn't like that to me." I feel tears in my eyes and I don't understand why I'm feeling so upset.

"You don't get it. You can't trust any of us – especially you! I almost killed you myself. It's not what we want, it's what we are. Underneath all the good intentions and pretty sentiments we are monsters, and you should never forget it. Stefan sees things different from you. He thinks that he can save you by killing you. He was planning on making you one of us – against your will. I couldn't let him do that." His jaw is set and he drives even faster if that's possible.

"Why would he want me to be something I decided I couldn't stand? I mean I was clear that I won't kill to live. I would kill myself if I had to do that."

He smiles. "I understand you perfectly. I was changed accidentally and against my will. I resisted the urge to hunt for so long, and hid in remote places until I thought I would go crazy with the hunger. I tried several times to kill myself, but we are very hard to kill. I discovered I could survive on animal blood and I have never hunted humans. To my shame I have created others like me, so I know the taste of human blood. I love my family, and I would never say they do not deserve to live, but they were weaknesses on my part. I fight now to save life wherever and whenever I can in hopes of making up for the wrongs I've done and what I am."

"But why would Stefan want to change me?"

"He is faced with changing you or taking a chance on accidentally killing you. Letting you go wasn't a choice he would accept. You know too much to stay with him as a human, since there are laws for our kind; and the punishment is severe."

"The Volturi...I know." I say it out loud and he turns quickly to look at me.

"You most definitely know too much. They would kill you for that piece of knowledge alone...and Stefan as well. You need to get away from him; even if he can avoid killing you, his friend and housemate Vladmir won't think twice about ending you. The two of them once had an empire that would rival the Volturi. They had a large coven and a secure stronghold and they were very powerful. The Volturi tore them down and they were the only two to survive. Vladmir will not risk their wrath again. Stefan wants to keep you, but to do that he would need to change you. Your only hope is to go home; move from your current address and disappear. Do not ever mention what you know to anyone – ever. Don't go back there, and don't try to find me either. What I know can get you killed and what you know can get us both killed." He seems so serious and I'm chilled just thinking about the Volturi lurking somewhere waiting to kill me.

We pull into the airport and he stops in the drop off zone. He pulls out his wallet and hands me a wad of cash that seems to clean him out. "That's $10,000 in U.S. Currency; you may need to exchange it to buy a ticket. Don't wait...go with the next flight boarding, and tell them it's an emergency. I would go with you but I can't be seen like this and I am going back to make sure he's okay and let him know that it will be useless to search for you. You must make it useless! If he finds you, you will die, either becoming like us or becoming food. I'm giving you a choice I wish I'd had."

He stares at me for long moments as I try to think about all he's said. I look up at him and try to think of the right words to say thank you for his help. His arm suddenly moves around my neck and he pulls me across the center console and gearshift. When he kisses me, it's like he's parched and I am water. His tongue finds it's way into my mouth and mine responds as he reminds me so strongly of Stefan. He tears himself away and looks at me with wide eyes. "Go! And don't come back! Save yourself Summer. I've done all I can – hurry!" I open the door and as soon as I'm out he speeds off.

Inside the airport I immediately ignore his advice. I stop in the restroom and try to fix myself up. I'm in clothes Stefan picked out for me but other than that I don't look like I've changed. But I have changed even though I can't see it in the mirror. I wander through the airport as people pass me by on their way to someplace else in a hurry. I don't know where to go, and the only bag I have is my purse. I walk past a wall of pay phones and I wonder who I can call. I think about all of my friends back home and know I don't want to call anyone. I'm confronted with my fear of being alone once again. I make a complete circuit of the airport concourse before I go outside and hire a taxi.

I give him the address of the hotel where I'm still registered, and hand him the money from my purse. It's not that I don't believe Carlisle, it's that I can't leave without the one thing that still holds a connection for me – my grandmother's diaries. When we pull up I tip the cab driver and step into the hotel like I've never left. It's a different place than when I left. It looks like normal and safe and comforting – things I may never know again. My key card gains me entry into my room and I step into a place where someone has cleaned up and made the bed but left everything else alone. My suitcase is still on the floor and the case where my grandmother's diaries are stored is still where I left it. I call down to the desk and ask them if it would be possible to move to a different room since I have been feeling very uncomfortable in this one. An hour later I'm moved and I have a new key card.

In my new room I shower and change. I tell myself that it's my choice but I skip the jeans and instead put on a sundress I've packed, complete with sandals. I pace the room and finally have to admit that I can't get him out of my mind. The last time I saw him he looked so lost and broken. I recognize the look because I feel that way often myself. I can't watch television since the language alone makes it nearly impossible even if I could concentrate. Instead I sit at the desk in the room, and one at a time I sift through grandma's journals. From her earliest childhood I read about the house. Mansion is more like it and I finally come to the realization that her family must have been servants since we don't have the kind of wealth in our family to own such an estate.

I read all about her childhood, but now I've got fresh memories to go with her words. I know what the places look like; the stairway in the center of the house, the window she looked out of with her window seat. The small suite of rooms was never mentioned, but it is fixed in my memory as well. I remember a brief mention of the library, something about getting in trouble for climbing the ladder. I smile, thinking about the trouble I got into in the same room.

I flip through the familiar pages as I pull out one book at a time. Next to the last one I find something I have been ignoring for years. There are three envelopes, two with my name neatly printed on the front and one with my dad's name. The writing is different from my grandma's and I know it can only be my mother's. The journals have been a safe refuge, but I've never had the courage to open the letters. When I received them I just brushed them off; what's the point? Why read letters from a dead woman, especially one who couldn't stay around to watch me grow up. But now that I'm sitting in a room contemplating how close I've come to dying myself, I know there's nothing in those letters that can hurt me.

I slit the first one open as they are all dated. I thought they couldn't have power over me, but I'm wrong.

My Dearest Child,

I'm sorry. I'm so sorry and I love you. Summer if you could understand how much it hurts me to know what I have done to you it might make this a little easier. But I'm not going to send this letter since it wouldn't be fair for me to ask you to understand. Even I don't understand, and at night when I'm alone and crying into my pillow I think about just going home. I want desperately to go home and reach into the hands of you and your daddy to collect the halves of my heart I left behind.

But I left for a reason and that reason isn't going to change. I have to write to you so that some day you will know that you were loved – truly and deeply loved. From the day I first held your tiny hand in mine. No, even before that, when I first felt you move inside me, I've been in love with you – head over heels, willing to die for you, in love! I have treasured every moment and memory with you. It tears the heart out of my chest to know that I won't get to see you grow up and become the beautiful young woman I am sure you will be.

Summer, I'm sick. No, not just sick, I'm dying. I tried to fight it and deny it, but the signs are all clear. I have to do this alone; I can't bear to take you down this road with me for it is a long and dark road. Summer, sweet daughter, I named you for all the joy you brought me. Everything that you are can be found in the season of your name. I won't let that change because of me. I couldn't stand to see the shadows of guilt, suffering, pain, and loss touch you, so I left. I know it will be hard for you with me gone, but you are so strong and bright, and I know it will be easier for you this way. Your father is an amazing man and he will see you to adulthood with that goofy smile on his face. I envy you both almost as much as I love you.

I'm not completely alone; I have nursing care and I have made some new friends. This little farm is so beautiful, and I just want to pick fruit and dance in the tall grass. Some days I can do just that! I imagine weaving daisy's into your hair and riding you on the pony. I actually bought him with you in mind but I know it's an impossible dream.

Some day maybe you'll find this letter, but by then I'm sure I will be just a memory. I'm begging you for forgiveness for leaving you – both times.

With all the love I have to give, forever,

Mommy

I barely make it through the letter. My face is wet and my eyes are blurred with tears and all I can do is wish she had sent the stupid letter! The handful of sentences would have changed my whole life. Part of me wants to wad it up and throw it away, but the other part wants to hold it to me forever. The words are burned into my mind no matter what. To know I was so loved is wonderful, but to know she's gone...I finally have to grieve for her! I open the other letter which is dated the same day as the first.

To the love of my life,

I know I made a promise. I know I broke it. In sickness and in health til death do us part were only words when we spoke them all those years ago. I never expected to be tested in such a way. Much more difficult I believed, was the vow to obey. As if you ever held me to that one in all the time we had together! You've made me so happy. The memories are all I have to treasure as I look ahead to the challenges and trials I'll have to go through. I've got a death sentence hanging over me baby. I know you would hold my hand through it all, and that's the problem. I want you to go on without me. I want you to write me off and let me go.

But I'm not strong enough to watch while you do that. I pray that your next love is as wonderful as you deserve. I beg God for someone who will treasure our little girl like her own. And I hope that she can mend what my leaving will do to your heart. There has never been anyone but you; another man could never pull me from your arms. You are forever the strongest, funniest, sexiest man I've had the pleasure of loving and I will take that love with me all the way to the end.

I know I left my baby girl in the best hands. If you didn't love her so much I could never do this; thank you for that. I feel like I'm taking the coward's way out. When it comes close to my time I might do just that. Please understand I'll only do it if the pain is too much. I would give anything if I could change this – anything. I will always love you more than my own life. It is my hope that your second wife is holding you while you read this and it doesn't still hurt.

With undying, unchanging, love forever,

Your runaway bride. (Of course I know how that's not funny, but I always did appreciate your weird sense of humor.)

I'm gone. I can't even stop crying, and I'm curled on the bed in a strange hotel room and wishing for someone to put their arms around me. But there is no one. Her letters have sliced me open and left me bleeding. I want to go back and lament her life and passing; weep at her grave, and memorialize her in some way. I want to scream at her ghost that she was wrong; that she should have never left us. That there would be no second wife or happy family, and no one left to pick up the pieces when all is said and done. I want to know if she crashed her car intentionally or was it because of her illness. I want answers but there is no one to give them to me.

I'm not sure when I fall asleep or what time it is when I wake. My body aches from being curled in a ball and my face is still wet from crying. There is still daylight coming through the windows but it doesn't matter to me. Nothing matters now. It's all changed; my mother didn't leave me, my mommy died! I feel the screams come up through me from somewhere inside I thought was sealed up and healed over. I press my face into the pillow and wail until my throat closes and my breath only comes in gasps. Soon, like a storm it thankfully blows itself out. I get out of bed and look at myself in the mirror. I look like a ghost of myself in a ridiculously pretty dress. I take it off and toss it over the chair. No one is going to care if I wander around in my underwear. Even if I leave the room like this no one will care except that I might offend their sense of decency.

I still don't know if I'm strong enough to think about him. The void within me is open again and pulling on my reality like a black hole. It's only a matter of time before I am pulled inside. I can feel myself dangling over the abyss, holding on with slipping fingers. Would he grab my hand and pull me out? Or would he pull each finger loose and let me fall? I'm not ready yet.

I sit at the desk and stare at the last letter. It's dated about six months before she died. It's my twenty-first birthday. I open the envelope with hands that are shaking. The letter comes out and I'm surprised to see a necklace fall out of the folds. A heavy gold locket glints up at me. I'm afraid to open it and see the picture, so I open the letter instead. The scrawl on the page is barely legible and it takes me some time to sort through the words.

Happy Birthday Summer Amelia!

I wish I could be there to celebrate it with you, but it's too close. My bad days outnumber my good by such a large margin I would only horrify you. I'm sending you a gift I hope you'll accept. My mother gave it to me when I turned twenty-one.

I imagine you are a lovely young woman now. Is there someone special in your life? I hope you find someone who will love you the way you deserve. I imagine him to be like your dad, but maybe that's because he has been my everything for so long. I hope you have a bright and joyful life. I want you to get married and have children and grandchildren and put this heartbreak behind you. I'll be looking down on you from heaven if I've earned even a sliver to stand on. I can only hope that God wouldn't take so much from me if there isn't something better waiting on the other side. I will soon find out.

I'm going to let Becky finish this letter since she has been a dear and trusted friend, and I can't hold the pen..much longer. Love you more than life.

Hello Summer.

I'm Rebecca and I've been taking care of your mother for the past two years. She is a friend of mine and I'll hate it when she passes. But I will celebrate when she goes as she will be leaving behind a lot of pain and suffering. More than the pain, she feels love for you and your father. She talks to you all the time as if you were here with her. She has bought you a birthday gift and a Christmas present for every year since she left. You have never been forgotten, and even on her worst days she still remembers you.

Her condition continues to worsen and most times she isn't herself. Today she insisted on writing. It's her first good day in such a long time. The doctors say she can last like this for years, but I don't think she will. She tries to hurt herself when she realizes her condition.

She didn't want me to tell you this but as a professional I think you have a right to know. Your mother was diagnosed with Huntington's Disease twelve years ago. It hit her fairly early and she deteriorated rapidly. You have a chance of having it yourself and there is a genetic test that can tell you. She believes you don't have it so she didn't want you to know, but it can be passed on to your children. They are doing wonderful things with fertility these days and it may be possible to screen an embryo to make sure it's healthy.

There is not much more to say. I have tried to talk her into contacting you and your father, but she adamantly refuses. She is a good woman and you would be proud of her if you could see how strong she is as she faces her own deterioration. I wish you luck that you don't have this disease.

Sincerely,

Rebecca Taylor

I fold the letter with numb fingers to put it back in the envelope. I put on the necklace without opening it. I get dressed and go down to the restaurant and order something to eat. I don't even know what it is. If I listened to Carlisle I'd be on my way to someplace else in order to save my life. But it doesn't matter anymore. Now it's not about what chance I have to have this disease, but what chance I have to not have it.

I eat the salad I ordered and stare around me in a daze. Everything I see is temporary. I don't know how much time I have before all the control is stolen from my muscles and the sense is taken out of my head. Maybe it hasn't started yet, but in all likelihood it's getting ready to attack me as soon a I feel like I don't have it; as soon as I get my hopes up or let my guard down.

The stares feel like an abomination to me where they used to be mildly irritating. The men notice me and stare as I pass. I don't have to read their thoughts since it's plain on their faces what they see as I walk by. I have an insane notion to take one of them back to my room; maybe more than one as if it matters. I could spread myself beneath him and let him satisfy an urge with me; several urges even. I could spend my time in pursuits that would at least guarantee me close contact with someone. The very thought sickens me.

I hurry back to my room as dusk settles over the area. I read the letters again but I really don't need to, they are with me forever. In the bathroom I draw a bath and soak in the hot water wishing I had the courage to cut myself and just bleed out. No, that's not true. I still don't want to die. I know I will, and I wish it could be different. There may still be a sliver of a chance that I don't have the disease.

It's now that I can think of him. Somehow the thought of letting my blood run down the drain makes me conscious of how wasteful that would be. I could buy someone two weeks worth of life just by allowing him to be the one to end it for me.

But that's not what I want from him. I pull the plug and step out and get ready for bed. It's early but I don't have anyone to tell me when my bedtime should be. I lie in the bed and watch the TV in a language I don't understand. When it gets to be too much I shut off everything and go to sleep. I know I have nightmares and dreams with vampires and death taunting me throughout the night. I wake up early the next day and my bed is a tangled mess of blankets and sheets.

I dress again in a sundress and sandals. I brush my teeth and hair and pack up the room. I'm leaving. In minutes I'm in the lobby turning in my key card and calling for a taxi. The looks of the men are harder to handle now that I know I'm pulling them to me somehow. From the clerk to the taxi driver I am enticing them. I need to get home!