I own nothing to do with Twilight.
Thank you all so much for your encouraging words, and alerts. Sincerely, it means so much to me. I'm truly sorry I've been tardy with not responding and with not updating much. I promise to pick it up and update more frequently so that you can all get to the climax.
This part of the story, Edward is getting darker and finds himself reaching boiling point over his insecurities. So, be warned. But, I'm sure you're all expecting that anyway. Story is loosely based on the film Fear though, of course, Edward is a more immovable force in Bella's life, which will be revealed very soon.
Sorry of this chapter is very bad. Feel free to let me know your thoughts or, if you have any questions, feel free to ask or PM me if you'd like. :) xx
Chapter Fourteen
Michael Newton's party was the first school-based party I had ever attended, and it was also the most crowded house I had ever seen in my entire life. So crowded, in fact, that it was increasingly difficult to somehow find Rosalie over the clusters of student's surrounding me. It sucked. I had really been hoping to introduce her to Edward officially.
I think I was becoming precariously close to hyperventilating, the moment Edward and I had reached inside Michael's large, two-storied weatherboard house.
Edward kept me right by his side, with an arm wrapped wonderfully tight around my waist to keep from losing me, whilst I attempted my very hardest to find Rosalie. It was hard, so very hard to concentrate on my main task at hand, because I was feeling uncomfortably jittery over the plans Edward and I had made tonight.
Tonight, he agreed to drive me back to his apartment, where we would stay there for a little over an hour, doing things I'd never even done before with him on the couch, before he had to drive me back to Charlie's so I wouldn't miss my eleven p.m curfew.
Eventually- reluctantly, on my part anyhow- we gave up on the search and Edward let me drift off to the buffet-like table, which held various large bottles of wine, a beer keg, glasses, as well as several other various kinds of yellowy-white liquor.
Usually, I avoided alcohol like the plague, what with being underage and all. But what the heck, I decided, and poured myself a small amount of vodka into a glass. I certainly needed the liquid for courage tonight. I finished off my drink by pouring it half-full of cola. At least the cola would drown out the strong, lingering bitter aftertaste the vodka presented.
"Bella, awesome," Michael said very pleasedly, once he noticed me standing at the table. "Glad you could make it. Who're you here with? Your friend, Rosalie Hale?"
The instance he asked that question, I felt my stomach sink. "Um, I'm here with Edward." I turned around and scanned the room for him, and once my eyes fell on him, I felt overwhelmed with relief.
"Oh, right," Mike said, soon as his eyes found Edward, too. Edward was standing all by himself across the room uncertainly, his hands dangling at his sides, while he took all of everyone around him in with curiosity. I couldn't help but notice Mike looked distinguishedly disappointed, for some reason. "Uh, that sucks then."
"Why?" I asked, surprised.
He shrugged, looking a little uncomfortable. "It's just... I really don't think he's the right person for you, Bella." His words startled me. All I could seem to do was gape up at him, blinking heavily. "He gives me the creeps, kind of. Especially the way he looks at you. Uh, maybe I should say, is looking at you."
"What do you mean, the way he looks at me?" I asked, a little self-consciously. I hadn't noticed Edward looking at me any differently. "What's wrong with it?"
"Nothing, really. It's just he..." He gave me a meaningful look, in which I felt the disbelief growing unconcealed on mine. "He just seems to be the one in charge, you know." He shrugged again. "I mean, what was with him going nuts over the fact that we were just talking to each other that day at school?"
Hmm, well. I could see his point there. "Edward's just... I don't know." I couldn't even begin to choose the right words for it to explain. "He feels protective of me, maybe."
"Nah, it's more than that. It's like your the little mouse, while he is the big bad cat grooming you, until he is ready to pounce and devour you whole."
I laughed a little at his unfitting analogy. I couldn't seem to help myself.
He rolled his eyes at me, then shook his head. "Not just that, but he looks as if... any minute now, he's gonna pounce on you and fuck you to death."
I gasped at his crude choice of words. Then, without thinking, I poured my glass of cola and vodka down the front of Mike's white shirt. It was definitely going to stain, and he gave out a little groan, full of chagrin. I gave him a little smile, like it was so accidental of me. But, really, deep down inside I think I'd done it out of spite. Purposefully.
Take that, you annoying disgusting jerk.
I didn't know where such cruelty had come from but somehow I had managed it.
Without a further noise, he stormed off right away, heading up the winding staircase that probably led up to his room, to change. Instantly, my eyes made a rapid beeline to where Edward was standing through the crowd of students and it turned out he had seen all of the incident himself.
He was staring at me with wide eyes and, for a second there, I felt incredibly guilty and wondered paranoidly if it would have changed his opinion on me. But then I watched as an amazing range of emotions flickered across his face in quick succession: surprise, amazement, then pure bliss.
I could tell he was totally over the moon that I had taken the initiative in taking care of myself, and he looked actually proud for me. It made me hysterically happy. Yet, so suddenly, I was in the realm of tears over disgrace at myself and my hurtful actions, because of treating Michael Newton the way I had.
I didn't want Edward to see, so I marched over to the liquor table again and tried to distract myself futilely. Before I knew it, without even having to look, I knew he was standing right behind me. It was like I was always aware of his presense more than anything else, that we were somehow in sync.
"Are you all right?" He asked in a sharp tone that cut through me deeply, like a shard of glass.
It didn't do well for the tears I was working so pitifully to suppress over the rising guilt. I turned to face him silently and shook my head, not at all in the mood to explain. I felt several hot tears roll down my cheeks and, to make matters worse, I felt my bottom lip quiver.
"What did he say to upset you, Bella?" His soft voice came out lower, and definitely angrier this time around.
"No, he didn't say anything all that bad," I whispered desperately. "It was just what I did. I feel so guilty, I can't believe I acted so mean in pouring my drink all over him. It was so... bitchy of me!"
Edward chuckled, and it seemed to come on out of nowehere. It shocked me. "He'll get over it one day. He's not mad at you, you've only just wounded his ego." He threw his head back, and laughed again.
Clearly, he was finding a lot of amusement in Michael's suffering, which shouldn't have surprised me in the slightest, since how funny he had acted around me whenever I brought Mike's name up. Plus, how jealous and threatened he seemed of him. Typical.
"Edward, it's not funny," I told him sternly. "Stop laughing. God, I can't believe I even did that!"
Though, Edward was listening intently, his eyes had lingered elsewhere. They peered at something behind us, and when I turned to follow in the direction he was looking, the shame flared again.
Michael had returned back downstairs to his party. Sure enough, he was wearing a crisp and clean button up shirt, a black one this time to replace the one I'd just heartlessly ruined.
"Well, he was right anyway," Edward said suddenly, though in a voice so soft and quiet I was unsure I had heard it correctly or not against the thumping background of the modern music playing from the stereo. Either way, I put it down to my imagination playing stupid tricks on my hearing.
Quickly, I moped my eyes. "Sorry for crying," I whispered up at Edward, so embarrassed over my crying in front of him that I felt my whole face flushing. "I'll be fine. Wait here, I'm going to go over and apologize to him. It wasn't nice."
Really, I should have all ready known the second I'd said it, that Edward wouldn't comply to my request. I felt him right on my tail, as I approached Michael, who had his back turned to us.
He was talking hushedly to a girl, who was in my English class. Jessica. She was one of the popular girls, and she was wearing a very pretty tight pink floral dress, that made her clevage pop out something shocking. It took me a moment to recover. It was a very short dress, though. It left little to the imagination; I knew Edward would have disapproved.
Taking in a few deep breaths for courage, I interrupted the pair. "Hey, Michael," I whispered gently.
He turned to glance over his shoulder at me, a little nervous as if expecting another attack. But then, his eyes seemed to take in the fact I didn't have another drink in my hand to throw all over him, and he seemed to recover visibly in relief.
"I'm really sorry for what I just did. Please forgive me, it's just... I don't like discussing my personal relationships with anyone. What goes on between me and Edward, is private."
"Yeah, I'm sorry, too," he said, a little guilty. "I shouldn't have brought it up. It wasn't my place to say."
Suddenly, Michael's eyes widened and he flinched away a fraction in fright. I looked behind my shoulder, and immediately recognized what the problem was. Edward was staring him down, emulating all sorts of repressed anger.
With an apologetic smile at Michael, I grabbed Edward by the hand roughly and pulled him along with me across the room. Unfortunately, a few people I recognized from one of my classes, had been watching what was going on between all three of us excitedly.
Just as we reached past them, I realized they were deep in discussion. "Who do you think would win? That tall guy with Bella Swan, or Michael?" One of the boys was saying, in a very deep-pitched voice.
"Oh, are you serious?" Another one was laughing. "Michael would lose, hands down. I bet that guy could handle himself in a fight. Plus, he looks like he'd go anal on him..."
I tried my very hardest to shut out their words, but it was a little difficult.
"Edward," I warned, my voice coming out a low growl.
He leaned against the wall beside me, looking completely unperturbed, which honestly wasn't doing him any favours. "What?"
"I don't appreciate you acting like that," I said furiously. "You should know better. I thought we talked about this, I thought you understood that Michael is just a classmate and he means nothing to me, that if I did even have interest in someone else, I wouldn't be with you!"
Edward started breathing heavily, as his green eyes flickered back over to right where Michael was still standing. I couldn't tell what he was feeling by the expression on his face, which was neutrally calm, but I could pick up some of it by his body language. It was a struggle for him to control his fast, shallow breathing; I could make out as much by the quick, deep undulations of his chest. The nostrils were flaring and, frankly, I found him scary as hell. I just couldn't understand why he was reacting the way he was.
Without returning his eyes back to me, he whispered in a very desperate sounding voice, "Bella, are you attracted to him?"
"Edward, are you serious?" I laughed uneasily in disbelief. I couldn't believe it!
"Tell me." There was a lot of pain in his voice, as well as fear.
"Of course, I'm not attracted to Michael," I told him cautiously. Which was the absolute truth. "I told you, he is just a class mate. A friend, who I help with English assignments from time to time. I already told you that! And, I thought you said that you would try not get-"
"Why?" he suddenly asked, sounding offended. At least, he brought his eyes down at me to peer intently into my own now. That ought to count for something.
"Why what?"
The look in his eyes were beginning to frighten me. There was nothing there anymore at present, like they were big depthless voids. I went to glance down at my heels, just to alleviate myself, yet he wouldn't have that. With a long forefinger, he turned my head back up. He seemed adament to have me looking into his eyes.
"I thought you understood what you meant to me," he mumbled, short of a whine. "I thought... I illustrated it perfectly clear to you, Bella."
He looked so upset that it took everything within me not to follow through on the urge to kiss him.
He took my hand in his, and moved it down to the seam of the crotch in his trousers, as if to show me- to remind me- of my promise. But I hadn't broken it, so why was he even bothering with it all? I came to the self-conscious awareness that students from my school were all around me, and I felt then that if anyone had so-happened to witness Edward guiding my hand down to place it where his penis was inappropriately, right underneath the thin material of his trousers, I would just about die.
"Surely, you remember what you said to me that night, Bella," he said, and there was something noticably off about his tone of voice. "How I told you I was yours completely and utterly, and you said back that you wanted to be with me."
"Edward," I warned, nervously. I couldn't seem to be able to breath, I felt completely frozen from the neck downwards. Immobile with caution, and fear.
"How you wanted to be with me as my girlfriend, and only me." His hand was clasping around mine to the point of pain, while he held it there still in place.
Oh my God. I felt like my fingers were going to snap any minute now...
"Edward, you're hurting me," I gasped, my voice all shaky and squeaky with panic.
I was so wrapped up into the look of pure frustration in his eyes that I hadn't been able to sense what was going on in time early enough.
Michael Newton slammed in front of me and wrenched my hand free from Edward's tight hold.
His intervening was so unexpected and sudden that it caused me to lose my balance and, before I knew it, my head was hitting the wall as I stumbled, tripping and falling flat on my ass painfully.
"Bella," Edward's voice came from somewhere behind Michael, unsteady and trembling. I managed to catch a glimpse of his face, and he looked almost helplessly frightened and as if he was about to cry. He tried to slip past Michael's body to come to me, a trembling hand outstretched. Only Mike wasn't giving in which, oddly, I appreciated.
I never thought it ever possible for me to feel scared over my safety, but at that moment in time, I did.
"You don't get to go near her, you jealous fuck," Michael was yelling. "You hurt her hand. Couldn't you see that, asshole? What the hell is wrong with-?"
Suddenly, there was an alarming crash as Michael was falling headfirst into a few party-goers, sending them squealing and toppling over as their glasses of alcohol flung out of their hands and smashed into shattered pieces against the hardwood floor. The thumping party music came to an eeiry stand-still. Everyone was dead quiet, watching the scene, the air thick with palpable tension.
Edward was staring down at my face, taking in deep breaths. He was trembling and his whole body shook.
"Bella..." A dry sob tore through his mouth.
Then, within a blink of an eye, Michael was lifting himself off the floor and coming at him again with full-force. He tackled Edward, bringing him down. Michael was sobbing as he landed a few punches on Edward's face then Edward was rolling over, throwing a few thumping punches of his own.
I had never had to witness such violence ever before or, oh, so much blood.
Somehow I had found myself standing on my feet again and suddenly, everything paused. Edward's hand was frozen, floating mid-air, the knuckles a deep red, as his eyes darted up to mine. I sniffled loudly, and took in all the faces of the spectators. They were all staring at me too, in alarm.
Then, it slowly registered in. My mouth was hanging open, and I was out of breath. It occured to me then, that I must have been shouting at the top of my lungs for all of it to stop.
And, thankfully, it did.
Edward slowly seperated himself from Michael to return to his feet, breathing out my name repetitively all the while. I purposely ignored him, to scrutinize Michael wearily. He was completely motionless, his head lolled to the side on a lean. His face was beyond recognition, due to the wet, stickiness of the blood covering it from the impact of Edward's blows.
I caught the movement as Edward turned down to look at the damage he'd done. "He's still breathing, just unconscious," he muttered unevenly, as if that might have made any difference. "I suppose someone ought to call paramedics, as well as the police." And so, someone did. I didn't know who made the call though, I wasn't paying any attention.
I refused to so much as peek over at Edward. I kept my eyes to Michael, until my eyesight went all blurry so that I couldn't make him out in my peripheral anymore.
I found a moment later my hand aching belatedly from the crushing impact of Edward's hold, and brought my other hand over to cradle it, using the painful twinge as a diversion from noticing the numbing grief washing over me, the dreadful awareness that Edward-my sweet, loving, sensitive boyfriend- did such a careless, frighteningly violent thing.
Several moments later- I'd been too brain-dead to count- the ambulance and police arrived, their sirens blaring on full. I discovered I was not only sobbing out of concern for whether Michael would recover or not, once they folded out a stretcher to place him on gently and strapped him in for his trip to the hospital, but I was also mourning the possibility of what could have happened.
Edward and I could have been advancing further in our relationship, a positive step. We could have been making love on his couch. Now, I couldn't even stomach seeing Edward in a romantic light any longer.
I didn't see this coming at all.
I was disgusted to know that, even then, I still had a small amount of love for Edward despite it all.