My Hero

Chapter Three

Bella's POV

The truck's engine ground to a sudden halt as I pulled up outside my small house. The darkness was menacing and the silence surrounding me was haunting. I sat still, trying to breathe calmly, but my hands shook uncontrollably beyond my control. I acted like this every time I returned home; I didn't know why I wasn't used to it by now.

I took a deep, unsteady breath and unwillingly stepped out of my vehicle. I slowly locked the door - with a bit of effort because the key was unsteady in my fingertips - and stepped quietly towards the house.

Outside it looked so welcoming, with its warm light pouring through the purple curtains.

Inside it was so much different.

The front door closed quietly behind me and I was faced with the dimly lit interior; the claustrophobia crept up on me like a silent stalker. I could hear the distant cheering from a TV football game and guessed that Mark was sitting on the sofa, lounging around as usual.

I slowly stepped into the kitchen, aiming to make as little noise as possible, and quietly poured myself a glass of water. It was then that I felt his cold breath on my neck and I jumped stupidly, the glass tumbing out of my hands with a loud smash.

"Bella-Wella..."

He sneered the nickname that I despised in a cold, whiny voice. I winced while taking a deep breath, and slowly turned around to face him. Somehow, I forced a weak smile.

His dirty blond hair was pulled back into a greasy pony tail, and the dark circles under his eyes became even more prominent under the harsh kitchen light. He pulled a menacing grin, displaying his stained teeth from the years of coffee drinking and smoking, and wiped his greasy hands on his denim jeans that he hardly ever bothered to change.

"Come here," he ordered and I rigidly stood next to him. He wrapped his hands around me tightly and I could smell the scent of cheese crisps on his breath; it made me gag. His grip became incredibly strong and a small yelp escaped my lips without my control. He chucked me away with a dark laugh and I slammed against the kitchen counter, my hip catching the side with a painful blow.

"Make me something to eat, will you?" he said, sitting back down. I nodded slowly and began heating up the oven, moving without really think; it was like I was on autopilot. I felt completely exhausted, but knew I had to do as he said.

Half an hour later, I walked into the living room and placed the tray of food in front of him. After a quick scan of the contents, he wrinkled his nose in disgust and chucked the tray over onto the table. The food splattered everywhere, dropping onto the floor around us. I flinched and sat stiffly on the sofa, my shoulders tense and my hands trembling.

This was no way to live.

"I'm not hungry anymore," he shrugged and turned his attention back to the game.

"Okay," I whispered, even though it definitely wasn't.

We remained in silence for a long time, when suddenly I felt the anger boil within me, and I snapped. Today had been a significiant moment in my life and he hadn't even bothered to take an interest.

"Aren't you going to ask me how my first day was?" I asked, my voice loud and jerky.

Bad idea.

The look he gave me sent shivers down my spine and I knew I had crossed the wrong line. Again. He stepped towards me, casting a dark shadow over my shaking body. I braced myself for what was coming, but that didn't help, it never did; his fist connected violently with my cheek and my head jerked along with it. I gasped, clutching my stinging face as he seethed at me. My neck ached from the suddenly shock and shooting pains were travelling through my body relentlessly.

"You're a disgrace," he spat and I winced. "Do you think I actually give a shit? All you do is moan about yourself. 'Oh, it's my first day at work today!'" He put on a whiny voice that was nothing like my own. "Just shut the hell up!"

"I know," I breathed. "I know. I'm sorry."

"I told you before, but you never learn," he scalded. "You talk to me properly, is that understood?"

"Yes," I said in a whisper.

"What?" he shouted.

"Yes," I said in a louder but weak voice. I hated him, but his frightening nature made my body freeze. I was helpless, trapped in this hell.

"Good," he said, suddenly switching off the television and seizing my arm. "Lets go to bed."

Mark dropped me off at the hospital twenty minutes late the following day, which was pretty unacceptable. I couldn't say anything though; I definitely didn't want to make him angry. Again.

I had awoken early, not that I had much sleep anyway. Using this opportunity, I had spent half an hour with my mirror infront of me, desperately trying to disguise the ugly bruise he had given me. I had deserved it, though, I knew that. It was my own fault.

I kept having to restart though; the tears which ran down my cheeks kept washing away the layers of concealer. It was as though the yellowy-purple mark wanted to taunt me constantly, reminding me of its presence.

"Thanks," I muttered as he halted suddenly outside the hospital. I took off my seatbelt and made to leave, but he grabbed my arm roughly.

"You behave yourself today, you hear me?" he ordered.

"Yes," I gasped, staring at my knees.

He treated me like a child. Or a doll. And I was too scared to do anything about it.

When he eventually released me, I stepped out of the truck as fast as I could and began walking towards the hospital, grateful for the escape. It was something, a place where I could escape reality, however brief it may be.

Carlisle's POV

Last night my thoughts had been completely dominated by Bella. I couldn't control it; it was like I was... addicted.

It was shameful.

I kept finding myself longing to see her again, to make sure that I could place the picture of her wonderful face firmly in my memory. But, every time my thoughts led me this way, I would glance over at Esme and be swallowed with guilt. It was all completely wrong; I wasn't allowed to feel this way. I was married.

The next day, I stood in my office, blankly reading a book about the nervous system. It was appropriate, really, considering the way that I was feeling at that moment; I knew that I was going to see Bella again sometime today, and the thought sent my normally calm nerves into a frenzy.

I stared out the window and noticed, with surprise, the very woman of my thoughts stepping out of an old truck. When I looked closer, in the driving seat I could see another figure staring intensely after her. She slammed the door behind her with some force and began walking towards the building, her arms wrapped around her body. It might have just been the way she was moving, but I could have sworn that she was shaking.

The truck revved loudly and disappeared off into the distance, smoke shooting from the exhaust pipe. I slowly turned my head back to the book, but my thoughts were already off the text. Who was that person with Bella? Did she have a partner? That would make everything so much worse.

Was I feeling jealous? No, I couldn't be. I was just overreacting. We'd only just met, for goodness' sake.

I glanced quickly at my watch and stood up, leaving my book open, and began pacing up and down the small room. I couldn't understand why I was acting so strangely... maybe the stress was becoming too much after all.

But I wasn't human. I could hope with abnormal levels of stress.

I sighed and, after running my fingers through my hair, I set to work as a patient walked through my door.

The requirement for distractions was even higher than ever.

A few hours later, I walked down a corridor on my own, quietly thinking to myself. It was all I seemed to do these days.

My rapid thoughts turned back to what would happen if I faced my feelings and actually told Esme. I could just picture the heartbreak flooding her face, and the look in her eyes as she walked away from me...

My disturbing thoughts were interrupted, though, when I suddenly heard the beautiful sound of a piano and someone's singing fill my ears. I continued following the sound, using my powerful sense of hearing and, when I reached its source, I felt all my emotions overpowering me once more.

I found myself standing in the doorway of Bella Swan's office. She was sat at her desk, her hair pulled up into a messy yet impossibly attractive pony tail, and she was completely surrounded by paper work. She had her stereo on and was singing along to the current song playing. Her voice was beautifully sweet; she sung in harmony with the song and tapped her foot gently on the floor. I couldn't help smiling at the sight and gazed in fascination as she chewed on the end of her pen lid. That shouldn't have driven me crazy, but I found myself almost staggering on the spot. When I looked closer, I saw that her eyes were, again, full of some hidden emotion; after some closer observation, I saw that she looked heartbreakingly upset and I struggled to resist the urge to walk in and comfort her.

Instead, I stood still and watched as she gazed wistfully out of the window. The song which was playing ended abruptly and she sighed heavily, pressing a button so that the song would rewind and repeat. She sang along with it again, just as wonderfully as before, and I found myself enthralled. No one had ever had this effect on me before.

Why was this happening?

I stared ahead, listening to her voice with the sad lyrics now staying poignantly in my mind. I began quietly humming along and started in surprise when she suddenly looked over in my direction with her brilliant brown eyes. I considered ducking out of her view, but realised that it would look even more suspicious.

She jumped, clearly startled, and quickly flicked off the stereo. I watched as her cheeks flushed an irresistible pink and I slowly stepped into the room. I felt incredibly guilty, watching something I wasn't supposed to, but was also glad that her magnificent eyes were finally on me. I coughed awkwardly.

"I'm sorry," I apologised. "I couldn't help hearing the song; I'm really quite fond of it."

She smiled briefly and looked down out of what appeared to be shame. "It's one of my favourites."

I watched as she seemed to deliberately avoid my gaze. Had I done something wrong? "I heard you singing along."

She flushed an even deeper pink and placed her hands carefully to her face in embarrassment. "Oh great..." she cringed.

"No, no, no," I said hastily. "You have a lovely voice." She looked at me for a fraction of a second, doubt clear in her expression.

"Thanks," she eventually murmured, gathering her papers away.

It disturbed me that she was facing away from me; I wanted to see her beautiful face again... I'd just have to do something to gain her attention.

"How's your day been going?"

As she quickly turned around to momentarily face me, my initial reaction was one of triumph, but it soon dawned on me exactly why she didn't want me to see her.

Less sensitive eyes wouldn't have been able to notice; she had clearly tried to disguise it with some products. Most people probably wouldn't ask in this hospital, but my eyes were twice as powerful as humans, and I could clearly see the purple bruise on her cheek.

I didn't want to make her paranoid, but I found that I needed to know what had happened; I felt immediately concerned. I hesitated and opened my mouth to speak, but then remembered with a jolt.

Yesterday, Bella had fallen down the stairs and slammed into me.

It was my fault.

I had hurt her.

As the realisation hit me, I felt disgusted with myself. This beautiful, innocent woman was hurt because of me... the monster. Sure, I might have saved her from serious injury, but I'd caused this because of my intervention.

I quickly walked out of the room and stormed down the corridor without a second thought. I couldn't hurt her any longer. I'd just have to avoid her; I couldn't face damaging any more of her fragile body.

What was I becoming? I thought it was safe to work amongst humans, but I was clearly wrong. I was a hazard; I caused people pain rather than healing their injuries. When I tried to help, it went wrong...

I sat down at my desk, my head whirling around in guilt. Perhaps I was over-reacting, but I felt a physical ache in my still heart because of what I had done. I had caused her pain... even though it was allan accident.

I was still for a very brief moment, then shot back upwards, heading swiftly towards the reception. I'd have to rearrange my hours to when she wasn't working. That was the only way I could avoid harming her again, even if it meant sacrificing the opportunity to see the one person who genuinely made me smile.

Bella's POV

Seeing Dr Cullen had made my heart stammer uncontrollably once more. It was like he was a God of some sort, perfect in every way, as cheesy as that sounded. I couldn't look at him, though; I felt ashamed and deeply embarrassed. I'd been regularly told that my singing wasn't exactly brilliant, so I'd probably made his ears bleed or something.

After I met his eyes for a fraction of a second, though, I watched with confusion as Dr Cullen suddenly whirled out of the room in the blink of an eye, leaving me completely dazed and still as a statue. My heart continued to hammer violently in my chest and I stopped as I realised what had happened.

He must have seen my bruise.

No... I thought I'd covered it up pretty well...

I reached for my bag and produced a mirror. I looked at my face in the reflection and saw that it was completely free of any sign of the bruise. Frowning, I heaved a sigh and my thoughts flickered to what else I could have done to make him leave so abruptly.

Maybe he thought I was ignoring him... I hadn't really locked any eye contact with him during our brief conversation; perhaps he thought I disliked him.

My heart went cold.

I wasn't a mean person... I didn't want to give him the wrong impression.

I hastily led my aching head on the cold desk and felt all my worries take over. This job was all a big mistake. In the space of two short days I had managed to fall down some stairs and make someone as wonderful as Dr Cullen dislike me. I was a disgrace. Mark was right.

The reality dawned on me and my chest heaved as painful sobs escaped from my lips without any warning. I shook violently as the tears trailed down my cheek, stinging my raw bruise when they ran down it.

Was anything ever going to go right?