ImPORTANT NOTE: Mentions of mild violence in this chapter. Heads up.
Chapter Two
The cop called ahead. Letting Jack know that everything was fine. I'd been found and he was bringing me back. I was a little grateful that he did that, because it gave me a chance to get used to the idea myself. To really mentally prepare for the fact that Jack would be waiting for me. Of course, I knew that before, but it did help.
Once we got back to the house, I saw Jack standing there, and my thoughts cleared. To me, it had been many years since I'd seen him human, and it was really unsettling. Like seeing the ghost of a person that died a long time ago, though in this case, he'd been turned. His glaring, dark ice-blue eyes filled me with an emotion I couldn't identify. A deep-seeded form of hatred, sadness and fear.
I climbed out of the car, looking back toward the house as I did so. Hesitating just long enough to look back at the trees behind me. I had a certain feeling of being watched, and I knew exactly who it was. I could feel how tired I looked.
I closed the door with a light thud, rounding the back of the car. Arms crossed, clearly human, Jack continued to stand there watching me. It was the strangest feeling, seeing him like this again. It was firm reminder of exactly where I was in my life again.
The familiar hate swelled up inside me, but there was also everything about me that Jack represented. I remembered the rules. Clearly. I walked forward as quickly as I could, straight up to him and hugged him tight. My arms around his waist, just above his hips, as I wasn't much taller than that.
As weird as it was to see him like this, I was also a little grateful. It meant I had an opportunity. Back to square one, a clean slate. From here, I could fix everything I'd done. He had no clue why I was hugging him, but I was grateful for the chance to be back at this point in time. He was warm, just like me. He was human like me. I was going to make sure it stayed that way. I was going to get it right this time.
I could feel his surprise, but for the sake of appearances, he picked me up.
"I'm sorry." I whimpered, "I'm sorry. So sorry." I actually cried. Pretty caught up in how overwhelming everything had been so far today. I also needed him to believe that I was sorry. He was too shocked to reply to me, so he focused on the cop standing there by his car.
"Thank you." Jack told him, "For bringing her home."
"Just doing my job." The cop replied simply, "Just remember to call home from now on, young lady."
"I will." I called back, turning briefly to look back at him.
Jack still had that old familiar smell of cologne that I always hated. I felt like it'd been a thousand years since I'd last smelled this scent. That sharp smell would always be burned in my memory, though. That smell was just as much a part of my past as everything else.
As much as I hated him, he had been right. As weird as it was to admit to myself, he was one that kept every single one of his promises. He was the one constant in my life. He was always square one, familiar. Known. Constant. No matter how far I went in the future, he was always there. My life always centered on him, like I was tied to him and no matter how far I ran, I'd always come back to him.
To someone like me, that meant something.
Once the cop drove away, that was that. The next phase was going to begin as soon as we got inside. Jack turned and carried me back toward the house. I still felt like I was being watched, and I opened my eyes long enough to see vague movement in the shadow of the trees across the driveway.
"Go home." I whispered silently, "You don't wanna be here for this."
I remembered this part clearly.
The second the front door was closed, I braced myself as he dropped me onto my feet. My heart pounding a thousand miles a minute as he grabbed my shoulder, turned me around to face him and shoved me back against the wall with a loud thud. I held my breath, standing stone-still, waiting for him to start beating on me.
I couldn't help it, though. I knew him too well by now to know exactly what was going on. I knew this part.
"I hope you're happy." His tone trembled in his anger, "I really fucking hope you're happy."
I had a choice to make right here.
I was leaning one way, and I really hoped it wouldn't backfire on me. If I just went along with how things were supposed go, I worried that everything else would stay the same. I needed to change things right now, just enough. Right now, he was more focused on the fact that I had been gone, with someone all night when he'd specifically told me to be here when he got back from work. He was thinking more about whoever I'd been with than me.
I needed to change that, to sway his focus back toward me. Tug as hard as I could. I needed to be the one in trouble. What was one sure way to do that? Talk back.
"I was happy," I replied, "Until you called the stupid cops to come get me."
He seemed really surprised that I'd even dare talk to him like that, and it was enough of a distraction for him that I was able to slip out from between him and the wall, continuing on into the house. I tried not to let that scare me.
"Just who in the fucking hell do you think you're talking to?" Jack snapped, his surprise still in his voice as he turned around to look at me.
"You." I answered easily, finding a seat on the couch, "Mom's not here, is she?" His eyes narrowed just a bit.
"We're gonna fucking talk about this in a second, but-"
"No we're not." I snorted, looking down, "You're gonna flip out at me for no reason, just like you always do, and we'll never talk about that." He was still across the room, but I paid close attention in case that looked like that was about to change. I was actually really surprised he hadn't hit me yet.
"You think running off like that is no fucking reason?" He gestured to the door, "What the fuck is wrong with you?"
"You are." I grumbled. Internally, I cringed. I was pushing it, but I needed to lock his attention on me. I needed to be completely sure.
"Repeat that?" He growled, crossing his arms. He was giving me a chance to change what I said. I couldn't do that.
"I said," I stood up again, turning to face him, "You are. You asked me what's wrong with me, so I answered you. You are what's wrong with me! I should ask you the same thing!" He stepped toward me but I stepped back, talking faster now, "Y-You wanna know why I ran away? 'Cause I'm sick of you hitting me all the time! I'm sick of getting hit because you don't like me. I ran away because anywhere is nicer than here, and anyone in the world is nicer than you."
I panted in my anger, and I had more I wanted to say, but I knew I should stop myself. I didn't want to push him too much too fast. I was pretty sure I'd said enough already.
The silence stretched on, and I watched his ice blue eyes for his expression. He studied me for a moment, as if he was trying hard to figure me out, but I knew it was more than that. He was thinking, and that was never a good thing. Eventually, his eyes seemed to harden.
"Okay." He was suddenly too calm, and that worried me. In nervousness, I stared at him as I caught my breath.
"Okay?" I asked, "What's that mean?"
"It means okay." He replied, still way too calm for me having just yelled at him, "It means I see what's going on here. Go get me a beer." I watched him as he moved for the couch, stepping back further out of his reach.
"Why?" I asked, watching as he sat down, "So you can hit me with it?"
"Just go get it." He told me, "I'm not going to hit you with the fucking thing. You think I'd waste beer like that? That shit costs money." I still didn't believe him, but I headed for the kitchen anyway, glancing back at him the whole way. I reached into the fridge, void of anything but beer, and grabbed one.
He was still sitting down when I peeked back into the living room, so I hesitantly brought it over. I crossed the thin carpet of the living room, nervously gripping the cold glass bottle.
"Let me tell you a little story." He said as he took it from me. He opened it before he looked pointedly at me, "Sit." So I sat. Stiffly perched on the edge of the cushion as I watched him. Ready to run in a second's notice.
He offered me the open beer, but I shook my head. Leaning away from it. He smirked, and sipped from it himself as he sat back in his seat.
"When your mom and I first got together," He started, "Right after your fucking dad took off, she was like you. I see a lot of her in you."
"You do?" I hesitantly asked.
"Yeah." He nodded, "I do. She was.. Stubborn, I guess you could say. I actually had to work a little harder to get her to trust me. Especially with you." I knew all of this already, so I stayed quiet. I still wasn't sure where he was going with all of this.
"Is she the only one you treated like that?" Of course I knew the answer to that, but I was trying to distract him from whatever was on his mind and whatever he was getting at.
He looked over, falling silent for a heavy few seconds, "That's not the point."
"Sorry." I mumbled, looking down. I would just have to let him talk.
"As I was fucking saying," He went on, "Every now and then, especially these last few days, you get that same spark in your eye she used to have. You and her are a lot alike." He offered me the beer again, and again, I shook my head. He shrugged and went on, "For example, you get under my skin. Just like she did. You're stubborn, just like she was. You know what that tells me?"
I hesitated, "What?"
"It tells me that I'm not trying hard enough." Shit. He went on, "She learned, though, and so will you."
"She left you, though."
"I know that." He muttered stiffly, "And her doing that taught you that that shit is okay. Which it's not. Believe me, I'm gonna find that bitch. I'm gonna hunt her down, no matter how fucking far she runs from me, but for now.. Well, you know what?" He didn't wait for me to reply. Reaching over, he grabbed a painful hold of the back of my neck and jerked me closer to him, "For now, I've got you to worry about. For now, you're my problem." He held the beer up to me again pointedly, and I shook my head as much as I could, wincing in pain.
"She was the same way." He growled holding me tighter, "Stubborn.. Set in her ways.. She didn't want it at first either, and she just needed a little push, so here. I'll help you."
With that, he released my neck and pinned me hard against his side with his upper arm and elbow hooked now around my neck. With the same hand, he held my face still. He forced the opening of the bottle passed my lips and dumped quite a bit in before I could even think about reacting. In a panic, I swallowed as quickly as I could before I choked. Immediately, my empty stomach burned unpleasantly, and I started to fight.
He pulled the bottle back when I choked to hard on it, setting it to the side and releasing me long enough to stand up. Shaking the escaped liquid off his hand as he watched me attempt to breathe again.
When I got a good breath in, he kneeled down in front of me on the floor, pinning me back down on the couch and reaching for the beer bottle again. I writhed, kicking at him, though.
"Stop it!" I coughed at him, which only made him more mad. He brought the bottle to himself, pinning my hands against my stomach with his free hand. I gasped for breath, fighting with my hands and continuing to kick at him until he moved closer, pinning one of my knees against the couch with his stomach, and capturing my other ankle underneath his arm. He still had a free hand to bring the bottle closer.
The pressure against my stomach made it extremely hard to breathe, and it hurt quite a bit. His weight made it impossible to get away.
This was what I hated most about waking up, coming back here. How completely helpless I was against him. Remembering being older. Remembering being bigger and stronger, but right then, that strength was just nowhere to be found. I would have given him a much bigger fight if I'd still been older. He wouldn't have such an easy time overpowering me.
He dumped a bit more into my mouth, but I spit it out right at him. I knew before I did it that I shouldn't do it, but I couldn't help it. He'd never done this before, so I was reacting instinctively to a brand new situation.
The solid slap to the side of my head made me think twice about doing that again.
I knew continuing to fight would just make me choke again, and probably hurt even more, so I hated it, but I cooperated.
He dumped the rest into my mouth, and to avoid getting hit, I finished it the best I could. He kept me pinned, though, not trusting my cooperation. Laughing to himself the whole time.
"There." He said, standing up and tossing the empty bottle onto the chair, "That ought to settle your fucking ass down." His shirt was soaked in it, but he didn't even seem to care. I was covered in it as well, but I did care. The smell of it all over me would have bothered me more, if I wasn't feeling so sick.
My stomach turned, but unfortunately, not in the way that would make me throw up right away. I closed my eyes as the dizziness almost immediately started to make my head spin, fighting to keep my tears back. Everything I felt now was scary.
"Now get your ass up." He barked, and I looked up at him, "Because you felt like little miss tough shit, you know what that gets you?" I didn't move, so he sighed, "Come on, bitch. Get up before it has a chance to kick in."
When I still didn't move, he growled to himself, reaching out and grabbing my arm. Hauling me off the couch and over his shoulder. His shoulder painfully dug into my stomach, and as much as I wanted to throw up, I knew throwing up on him would have been a really bad idea.
"Jack.." I whimpered, trying to warn him, "Put me down."
He laughed, "No."
"I think I'm gonna puke."
Thankfully, he listened. He swung me up, off his shoulder and dropped me onto the hard kitchen floor. All forty-eight pounds of me landed hard on my back, knocking the breath from me as the shock of pain stabbed down my spine and my head hit the floor. Being disoriented like that worked in my favor, though. It distracted me from the vomit threatening to race up my throat.
When I didn't move on my own, he reached down, grabbing me by my shirt and literally dragging me across the floor toward the bathroom. The transition from cold linoleum onto rough carpet hurt a bit once we reached the little alcove just beside the kitchen, but I was focusing hard on not vomiting everywhere.
I took over once I made it back onto the cold linoleum inside the bathroom, scrambling for the toilet, making him jump out of the way. I made it just in time.
"Damn," He snapped as he returned to the doorway, "Let me fucking move first." I couldn't reply so he laughed, "You're such a lightweight. You definitely look like your mama now." I lowered my head, trying to get my bearings back, but it wasn't working, so I just cried. I was practically laying over the seat in my attempt to hold on.
"Crawl your ass out when you're done." He left the room, leaving me to my violent dizziness and pain.
I squeezed my eyes shut, clutching my stomach. My stomach hurt so bad. Not just nausea, but actual pain in the inside. It felt pinched and squeezed. I'd felt this before, over the last few days, but I paid it more attention now. I always figured it was just the bruises messing with me.
Opening my eyes made my head spin worse, so it was better just to leave them closed. Just sitting there, I actually doubted my ability to even crawl without falling over. I might have choked on some beer, but I swallowed most of it, so it hit my empty stomach like a ton of bricks.
I just couldn't understand why anyone would choose to put themselves through this by drinking. With the pain and the nausea, came the cold sweats and the shivers. The dizziness. I found nothing at all positive about feeling like I couldn't even control my own body anymore. I couldn't even see straight, much less walk or run away. This was scary.
"Hurry it up in there." Jack pounding on the door made me jump, swaying a little where I kneeled. I opened my eyes long enough to push myself back, kneeling upright now and searching for the handle to flush, but dark red caught my attention in the water below me, contrasting brightly against the cold white of the toilet. I stared at it, a sinking feeling making me feel smaller as I realized that it was blood I was looking at. It was hard to focus, but it was definitely a scary sight.
It wasn't a huge amount, but any blood is enough to be worrisome. Isn't blood supposed to stay inside the body? It scared me to see that, because I knew throwing up blood wasn't a good sign. In my current state, I couldn't for the life of me figure out why I'd be throwing up blood.
Maybe it was just a one time thing. Maybe. I'd been feeling sick since I woke up in my room the other day, but this was the first time I'd thrown up since then. Had this been building up since then?
I reached for the handle to flush. I didn't even feel myself falling forward until I hit my face on the edge of the seat and fell over. I managed to flush it though before I hit the floor.
It hurt to move, so when Jack walked in at the sound, I couldn't even roll over to look at him. I mostly just wanted to sleep. Forgetting all about pretty much everything but how I felt. His chuckle sounded loud to me, so I finally rolled halfway onto my back.
"Now this is more like it." He nodded to himself, "I'd love to see you get anywhere like this."
My only response was puffing a strand of hair out of my face.
"Come on." He laughed at me, bending over and picking me up easily. Stepping out of the bathroom with me limply laying in his arms, he turned left and kicked my bedroom door open. Walking in, he dumped me on my bed. As soon as I landed on the cold mattress I hated so much, I started to cry.
"I'll come get you tonight." He told me on his way out.
"I hate you!" I had no idea how I even managed to say that, but that actually made him pause and look back at me.
"Really?" He was smiling.
"Yes!" I replied with as much force as I could manage, "God I hate you so much!" He walked back in, and I didn't even have enough reaction in me to flinch as he grabbed my leg and rolled me over onto my back. He leaned over me, both hands on the mattress on either side of me.
"Tell me again." He told me, but I just cried now. He bounced me roughly, "Say it again."
"I hate you." I told him through my teeth.
"Again." He smiled wider, and I really couldn't tell what he was thinking.
"I hate you!" I shouted at him again, and he chuckled.
"What?" He asked. He was just playing with me, "Come on. You've got more in you than that."
"I hate you!" I screamed it at him now, kicking my legs weakly at him, "I fucking hate you! I hate you, I hate you, I hate you! I wish you would die! Just go die already! I wish I could kill you myself! I hate your stupid face, I hate your stupid voice, I hate the way you smell, I hate everything about you!"
"Good!" He shouted right back at me, "Now we're fucking getting somewhere!"
I should have known he would love to hear that from me. I hated that smirk on his face. I hated him more than I ever have. Without thinking, I reached up and laid a hate-fueled slap against his face. The sound startled me into flinching my arm back as I looked up at him.
Well, he lost the smirk, but the glare that replaced it was worse. I could see a faint outline of my fingers against his cheek, so I'd hit him hard enough to leave a mark on his skin.
What in the living hell did I just do?
That question crawled sluggishly through my mind half a second before the solid fist landed against my stomach. Knocking the breath right out of me in a cry.
"Don't you ever do that again." He growled, gripping my jaw painfully. As bad as my stomach hurt, my face was hurting more, so both my hands came up to try to pry his hand loose. Sobbing, despite my efforts to stop it. He shook me a little, his teeth clenched, "Understand me, bitch? You don't raise a fucking finger to me."
I just sobbed pathetically through as much of a nod as I could manage. I couldn't exactly speak with his hand squeezing my jaw to near breaking point. The more I tried to pry his hand off, the worse the pain got.
"Good." He hissed, his other hand coming up and gripping my hair tightly, "Because if you ever do that again.." He trailed off, and at first I couldn't figure out why he didn't finish that. He paused at first, before he released me roughly and moved quickly for the window.
I didn't care why he let me go. All I cared about is the fact that I could now roll over to curl up. I was hurting in so many places at once, it was hard to concentrate. I was one big hurt, and I should have been used to that, but that was something not easily adjusted to.
Whatever it was he was doing suddenly didn't matter anymore. He returned to me, gripping my hair again forcing me back onto my back.
"Get the fuck up." Giving me one more firm slap, he peeled me up off the bed. Practically dragging me off the bed and through the room and out into the hallway.
I couldn't keep up as well as he wanted me to, so he reached down and picked me up once again, laying me back over his shoulder. Making my head spin worse with how quickly he moved me. I sobbed the whole way, clutching the back of his shirt in my fists as he carried me into the living room.
He made a quick stop to grab the pad lock off the hook by the front door. Grumbling threats as he headed back through the kitchen. Toward the back door.
I laid limply now, sobbing and defeated as he made it down the steps. I knew right where he was going, but there wasn't anything I could do about it. Even if I could see straight.
"You know as well as I fucking do that you deserve this." Jack told me over my hate-filled sobs. Flipping me back onto my unsteady feet onto the dirt outside, he took my face hard between his hands and looked into my eyes before I could even look around. Holding me up by my head when my legs gave out, leaning down and pulling me close to his face at the same time. I felt the hate leave my eyes as a pleading look replaced it. My hands came up and placed themselves on his wrists, trying to lessen the strain on my neck by holding on.
"I know." His voice was quiet now. I hated his quiet voice more than his yelling one, and this was a very forceful reminder of that fact.
"Please.." I cried now, and he and I both knew what I was begging him for, "I'm sorry." I whimpered, and he laughed.
"Don't be." He said, "It won't do you any good to be sorry. God, I wish we had more time, just so I could leave you in here for a fucking week, you ungrateful little fucking bitch. I think a few hours in the box should cool you off, though. I'll come get you tonight."
He released me long enough for me to fall to my knees beside him, as he lifted open the lid. While he was turned, I attempted to crawl away, but I really didn't get far. My fingers dragged through the dirt as he easily grabbed my ankle and dragged me back.
Releasing my ankle, he gripped my upper arm painfully, digging his fingers into my skin to the point where I could feel each individual bruise I'd get.
His other arm lifted me around the waist, even as I kicked and fought, and he dumped me roughly into the small wooden structure, slamming the lid shut loudly. I heard the lock go on before I could even recover from landing nearly head first onto the soil below me, and started to cry harder.
It was dark in here, daylight only making it through in a few spots, so I couldn't look around myself yet. I knew there had to be at least a few bugs or spiders in here. Not to mention the smell of damp earth and mold nearly choking me. It wasn't a very big box. Not enough room to stand in, but I could kneel up and move around if I had to.
I hated it in here. It terrified me, and he knew that.
He walked away. What I could hear over the sound of my cries, was his chuckle and seconds later, the back door slamming shut. I couldn't help it. I curled into a tight ball on my side in the dirt, and my tears continued. I hugged my knees, and they muffled my cries as they squeezed from me.
I'd almost forgotten just how much I hated it in here. The smell hurt my nose and made my eyes burn a little, as it was strong. Damp earth, gasoline somewhere around here, and just a little bit of mold. I knew that laying like this was just making the dirt stick to my tear-stained cheeks, but I really didn't see a reason to sit up. Even if I could.
I weakly coughed a few times in residual stomach pain, but that was about it. I started to mentally prepare myself for staying in here for hours, my tears slowing with a few sniffles.
It got worse remembering that Alice was around here somewhere. She had listened in, and heard everything. I tried to make myself feel proud for standing up to Jack that way, but I really wasn't. I felt shame, and I was quite embarrassed at my failed attempts. I used to be tougher.
Coming back to this time took from me more than my age. My resilience was lower, my strength was gone. Maybe that was part of the reason why I was doing this. Maybe I was doing this because I was so sick of coming back here, and I needed to get it right this time. I wasn't sure, but it made it a bit harder, knowing Alice was here.
"Leandra." I heard her voice outside as if my thoughts had called her, "Hang on." I opened my eyes in the dark.
"No." I sniffled loudly, "Don't open it. I have to stay in here."
"Why?" She demanded, her voice muffled. I looked around, knowing where her voice was coming from. It was coming from behind the box, nearest the trees. At least she was trying to stay out of sight.
"Leandra." She sounded so worried when I didn't answer right away.
"She can't stay in there." Carlisle was here too, to my surprise. That, I hadn't been expecting.
"I have to." I said, "I have to stay in here until he comes to get me tonight. After that, we'll leave for California. He can't think anything is off." My stomach turned painfully, but at least I had finally caught my breath.
"Well what do you want me to do?" Alice asked, "I can't just leave you in there."
"Just.. Keep me company?" I paused for a quick look around me, and I couldn't help my voice growing small, "It's dark in here. I hate the dark so much."
That had never changed. It usually took me years to get passed this fear, but that was purely because my own mind loved to play tricks on me. My darkest memories were in the dark. The worst moments of my life were surrounded in the dark.
"I've got an idea." Alice replied, "Hold on." I waited, biting my lip as I looked around myself once more. Very carefully, one of the thick boards along the back of the box was pulled loose. Not only allowing daylight into the box, but allowing me to see her and Carlisle behind her. I blinked in the light that came through.
"I can put it back if I have to." She assured me and I nodded, "Come closer."
"I can't." I whimpered, laying my head back down in the dirt. I knew it took her a moment to figure out that I wasn't just being stubborn. I physically couldn't. I'd likely hurt myself trying, and I just wanted everything to stop spinning. Laying still gave me the smallest bit of stability. Feeling the earth under my cheek made me feel more secure.
"Did he make you drink that?" She demanded. I knew they smelled it on me at least, but I was still afraid to answer, so I stayed quiet, leaving my eyes closed, "Leandra?"
"Just stay with me?" I requested quietly, just resting now. I really wanted to fall asleep, but I was so afraid to. I listened to three more boards being carefully pulled away, thankful for the small breeze that made it into the box.
I opened my eyes probably a minute later to being scooped up gently off the ground.
"I'm telling you," Alice was the one that carried me, "It was so hard not to go in there." She had to crouch really low with me in her arms as she carefully carried me toward the back of the box.
"I'm sorry." I mumbled, stirring a little in her arms.
"Please don't apologize, Leandra." She told me, and she continued on. Ducking outside through the back of the box, drenching me in fresh air and cloudy daylight. She sighed, setting me gently on the ground behind the box, "I just don't quite understand why you're putting yourself through this."
I knew back here we were hidden from view of the house, so I willingly curled up on my side, my back facing the back of the box and my hand over my stomach as I closed my eyes, breathing slowly.
"If you knew what I knew," I whimpered, "You would do the same thing. I would say to get Edward, so he could tell you what I can't, but he wouldn't be able to keep from going in there and killing him."
"That sounds like him." She sighed, gently smoothing my hair and dirt from my face, "I'm having a hard enough time not going in there myself." The cool breeze made my head spin worse.
"It's okay." I mumbled, "It's okay. It's working."
"When was the last time you saw yourself?" She asked skeptically.
"Umm.." I couldn't think far enough to answer that.
"Where did the new bruise come from, Leandra?" She asked gently. Why did she even have to ask at this point?
"Which?" I frowned, confused. Lightly, she touched my cheek. I recalled what had happened there, "I fell." She sighed, so I went on, "No, I actually did this time. I guess I don't have that good of balance right now, and I fell forward too fast after I threw up."
I jumped a little at Jasper's sudden, silent arrival, so I just closed my eyes again. I felt too sick to be startled.
"What-" He cut off, and didn't finish that question, falling quiet as Alice smoothed my hair again. I focused on my shallow breathing, trying to get my bearings back. Jasper's subtle growl told me he figured out exactly what was wrong with me. I sincerely hoped he could resist going in there.
"How long are you going to be in California?" Alice asked me quietly, which I appreciated. Questions made this seem less nerve-wracking.
"I don't know." I admitted, sniffling, "Before, I was only there a few days before Jack got mad. That's when I ran away and called Carlisle. I can't do that this time."
"Why did you run away?" She asked.
"Because of Ken." I whimpered, frowning with my eyes closed, "He's worse than Jack, but in a different way. I know Jack's not gonna leave me there. I know it. It's gonna be different this time."
"Leandra, why don't you let us call someone for you?" Carlisle asked.
"It won't do any good." I admitted quietly, "If you guys can't protect me, what makes you think a bunch of stupid humans can? I'm not sure how he does it, but he can get away with anything." I sighed, "I just.. Don't know why I keep coming back here. Last time I had a harder time remembering everything, so I think I'm getting used to it. Before a few days ago, this hasn't ever happened to me before."
"Sometimes trauma can accelerate the development of an ability." Carlisle answered, "Was anything different about his last beating?"
"Not really." I mumbled, "It's always been that way. Well, I mean, not always, 'cause he couldn't do that when I was little."
"I'm not sure I can do this." Jasper murmured, and I looked over at him and Alice.
"You have to." I replied, "This part has to stay the same. The change comes later. He's mad at me now, but he'll calm down. He always does." I sighed, fidgeting a little with a frown, "My stomach hurts."
"Pain, or nausea?" Carlisle asked.
"Both." I mumbled.
"Has he done more than beat you?" Carlisle asked, and I knew what he was asking. His tone gave away the meaning behind the question. I also knew why he would ask that question now, but stupidly, I'd thought I had more time before I would have to answer that.
I held my breath for a second, refusing to look over at him. It was still so hard to admit that part to anyone, so I laid in silence. They didn't know. They had no idea yet just how bad it could get for me.
"What do you mean?" Deflect the question, but I knew my sudden nervousness had to let them know that I knew exactly what he meant. That, and the way I curled a little tighter into a ball was a dead give-away.
Had I been prepared for that question to come, I might have been able to pretend that the answer actually was no. Inwardly, I kicked myself. I should have known he'd ask if I complained about my stupid stomach hurting.
"I need to know." Carlisle told me quietly, "He may have seriously injured you." I fell quiet again, hating the way my heart pounded just a bit too quickly.
After all this time, this was still something I fought with. That seemed to be a common thing. Every bit of progress I make recovery wise during a vision was, for the most part, erased when I woke up again. I still feared everything, but my determination was something I didn't have before, so it helped me now.
But the fear was still there. Of this subject in particular. I hated it. With everything I was, and mentally, I knew it was stupid to be afraid of just answering a stupid question. However, knowing that it was stupid didn't help me.
"Leandra?" Carlisle prompted gently. Swallowing nervously, I took a hitching breath. It used to be okay for me to tell them, but things were different now. If I couldn't keep them in my life, I couldn't risk telling them about this part. They'd already seen the bruises, but this was a whole different thing. If I ever let them see just a hint of the darkness I protected, they would probably never leave me.
I finally found my voice, "No. No, that's not why."
Alice leaned forward, and one glance told me she didn't believe me.
"Leandra." She spoke firmly, so I closed my eyes.
"I said that's not why." I replied, and I thought I sounded a bit more believable, but not to her. I glanced over at Carlisle, and he was the only one who seemed to understand what I was saying.
Alice shook her head, "We need you to trust us-"
"Stop." I whispered, my choked voice hardly making a sound as I looked over at her, "I can't tell, but.. That's.. Not why. It's not why my stomach hurts." I opened my eyes, looking up at Carlisle, "That doesn't really hurt me anymore. He's careful."
I looked over sharply as Jasper stood up, but thankfully, Alice stopped him.
"No." She told him, pulling him back down beside her. She leaned close to him and spoke quietly, but I couldn't hear what she was saying to him. I still watched him nervously, until I was sure he wasn't about to storm in there and kill him.
"How long has it been going on?" Carlisle asked, and I hesitated once more.
"Couple years, I guess." I answered, "But that's not-"
"Years?" Jasper snapped lightly, and I looked over at him, "How many?" I didn't answer that one, falling quiet as I looked away again.
"I can't allow this." Carlisle sighed quietly. I struggled to push myself upright. It was slow, but I managed to with Carlisle's help.
"You have to." I countered, "He's already made plans for me, and.. I-I wasn't supposed to tell. If anything happens to him, he'll know. He'll know I told. Then he'll have even more of a reason to kill me."
"I can fix that right now." Jasper offered.
"No you can't." I argued, "You can't-"
"I'm not against Carlisle taking you in." Jasper cut that off, "If it means you'll be safe."
"No." I repeated firmly, "Don't you get it? This is how everything goes wrong. Even if you do kill Jack, and even if you kill Ken.. It's not just Jack looking for me, remember?"
"Aro." Alice recalled, and I nodded.
"I'd rather die than go with him too." I mumbled, "I don't want to help him. The things he can do.." I trailed off quietly, shaking my head, "You guys could get into trouble just for talking to me, even if you never told me anything. If you take me in, it.. Well, it sort of backs us into a corner, and if I can keep you guys from knowing what that's like too, then.. I will. I have to. I don't wanna put you guys on his bad side, and once he knows about me and what I can do, that's all that'll happen 'cause I won't go with him."
I took a breath, my voice getting quieter, "You can't save me your way, and you can't save me the human way. I don't have a way out."
"There's always a way." Alice argued.
"Not for me." I corrected, "No matter how hard I try, everything gets all messed up. All of this will be for nothing because Jack will know it's you trying to help me. It has to be done right. I won't get another chance at this."
They were quiet now.
"If this is too hard for you guys," I mumbled, "Then you should just leave now. Just forget you ever saw me. Let me do this on my own. I'll be okay."
"We're not leaving you." Alice replied, shaking her head, "If you're going to put yourself through this, we'll be going through it with you." I wasn't surprised that she would say that.
"But if you can't handle it-"
"We'll handle it." Alice said, and I looked over, "As much as I hate seeing you like this, I understand how important it is to you to change what you saw. Believe me."
"I honestly don't know." Carlisle sighed again.
"Just.." Alice murmured, "Promise me he will lay off."
I nodded easily, "He calms down once we leave for California. He doesn't smack me around or anything like that. He's actually kinda nice to me."
"Okay." She replied with a small sigh.
"It's Ken I gotta worry about." I admitted, realizing as I was saying it that I shouldn't have said it.
"You said he's worse." Jasper prompted, and I looked down, "How?"
"I don't wanna tell you." I muttered.
"That's always a good sign." Alice murmured sarcastically.
"Why not?" Jasper asked.
"You're already having a hard time." I said, "I'll be okay, but.." I trailed off. He seemed to understand, "I mean.. Heather wouldn't let anything happen to me."
"Heather?" Carlisle asked.
"I can talk about her." I nodded, "She's Jack's sister. She's there too with her two kids and husband. She does what she can for me, because she knows what Ken is like. She grew up with him."
"I see." Carlisle replied, and I took that as an okay.
"She's really nice." I added quietly, "I like her a lot. I kinda can't wait to see her again. She was actually a pretty big part of my life before."
"I'll be honest," Carlisle murmured, "I'm feeling quite apprehensive about letting this continue."
"She wouldn't be going through this if it didn't mean more to her than anything." Alice explained for me, "I know it's hard, but we have to trust her. She knows what needs to be done. We'll just do what we can to be here for her through the process."
"Thank you." I mumbled as sincerely as I could.
"This isn't just about her gift anymore, Alice." Jasper murmured, "We need to consider the danger she's putting herself in by doing this."
"I would rather be able to be here for her," Alice replied softly, "Than to force her hand and have her turn on us. Believe me, I know it's difficult, but.. Don't you think she deserves just one person in her life she can trust?"
"I would rather she be safe." He answered honestly, "She can hate me all she wants to. I know one day she'll thank me."
"No I won't." I piped up, "You don't know how important it is for me to fix this right now. I can't do it any other way. I've tried, and I'm tired."
"What about Heather?" Alice asked, "You said you liked her. Maybe they'll make an exception, and send you to her."
"Aro, remember?" I asked, "He's not really that good at keeping humans alive if they're in the way of what he wants, and I don't want him to use them against me, 'cause he will if he has to. Just like he uses you against me." She looked down, and I knew I was right, "Besides. You would have to kill both of them for them to do that, and I don't want that. That's wrong."
"I have to disagree." Jasper grumbled, but he didn't say anything else.
With that, they fell quiet. They might not have trusted my judgement, but they trusted Alice. Without her here, I knew they wouldn't have been able to hold out this long.
My stomach only continued to hurt. Aching in a very unfamiliar way. As much as I wanted to, I couldn't tell them about it. I concentrated on the internal pain, and it made me feel impossibly alone. Sitting with three of the people that meant the most to me in the world, and I resigned myself to suffering in silence.
I opened my eyes again, unable to look at any of them in an attempt to hide my tears. Looking up at the cloudy sky, the chilly breeze crawling over the clammy skin of my face. I thought about the things we had just talked about.
I wondered if there maybe was something different about the last beating Jack had given me. Carlisle had said that gifts could be brought forward faster following a traumatic event. All of these visions started the same night of the last beating, and I knew I felt different. I still hurt the same way I always did, but there was a difference in me now.
Only actually a few nights ago now, I recalled easily the beating that had left me bleeding on my bedroom floor. All because I had run from him. The sounds of that night echoed fresh in my mind, and with a brief stab of fear, I recalled what I had seen when I threw up earlier. That was connected.
Maybe that's what it was. That was what was different. Like a slap to the face, it suddenly occurred to me, and it was a scary realization. It was just something I could tell. A feeling I had.
I was dying. Jack had finally gone too far with the last beating.
Something inside me was wrong, and it suddenly made sense why I kept going through this, over and over coming back to this point in my life. My mind knew I was in trouble. My gift was trying to warn me by trying desperately to find a safe direction to send me, but it was confused. I was confused.
I looked over and up at Carlisle, and in a split second, I knew he could see it. My fear. It became painfully clear to me that I'd literally be trading my life to protect them. If I was already throwing up blood, then I knew I probably didn't have much time left, and the next few days would prove to be even more challenging. It was about to get a whole lot harder.
I couldn't let them know, though. I had to do this right. If I told them, then they would put a stop to what I was doing immediately. I couldn't do both. If I could pull this off, Jack would never suspect them, and I could protect them.
That was better than dying over nothing.
A/N: Chapter two down. :)
THANK YOU! To my reviewer of last chapter! :) I've really missed reading your responses. A quick note in reply to your review.. It wasn't intentional at the time, but it definitely is now lol
Today RL is going to be quite busy, but thankfully, chapter three is already written out. It just needs a final go over, and I can release it on time tomorrow. :)
Until tomorrow, my beautiful readers!