My revenge is just begun! I spread it over centuries, and time is on my side. Your girls that you all love are mine already; and through them you and others shall yet be mine - my creatures, to do my bidding and to be my jackals when I want to feed.
Dracula, Bram Stoker
Chapter 22 - Incorrect Assumptions
Once back in London, we quickly fell into a comfortable groove. My days were spent at the library. My nights, assuming he wasn't working, were with Edward.
I could say that we fell into pattern of an established couple. But it would be a lie. While we did normal 'couple like' things, the intensity, the need only grew. We couldn't exist in the same room without touching. And touching always devolved into something else. It's a miracle that we ever left Edward's flat. And when we did, it's even more impressive that we didn't get arrested for indecency.
It wasn't just him, although he did have a penchant for pulling me into dark or secluded corners. I fueled the fire too, albeit in a more provocative way. One evening when we were out to dinner, I decided to try the whole 'foot in the lap' bit a la Flashdance. Needless to say, desert was not consumed at the restaurant that night.
If anything, the connection between us became stronger. The lines blurred to the point that there was no before, simply now. Everything about Edward consumed me, and it took all that I had not to get pulled under, not to lose myself in the tempest.
There were moments when everything about him scared me to no end. Yet through it, there were things that I began to realize about myself which made the fear and uncertainty all worthwhile. I was finally living outside of my comfort zone, believing in what I could be.
I couldn't have gotten there on my own.
Edward pushed my buttons, argued with me, taunted me to no end. But then he would compliment me, encourage me; listen to my thoughts like no one else had ever done. He helped me learn how to really stand up for myself, to have confidence in who I could be and in what I thought. He had no compunction calling bullshit or asking why when no one else ever had. It was intimidating at first, but once I understood what and why he was doing, I began to thrive in it and what it brought out in me.
"I feel like I am talking to a three year old. Every other word out of you is why!" I ranted one Saturday morning. Edward had just finished reading the full draft of my dissertation, and was peppering me with questions about the contrast between Lucy/Mina and the Weird Sisters. He refused to let me go until I could justify my position.
"You are letting emotion cloud your thoughts. Be objective. There is a difference in their actions, and humanity is not enough of a justification. If you can't defend it to me, how are you ever going to defend it to someone you don't know?"
"Because defending it to someone I don't know will be easier!" I shot back, frustrated. "You ask me questions and then stare at me while I try to answer, and I can't think!"
"That is the kind of pressure you'll be under, so it's good that you can't think. You need to learn to control your emotions. Everything is too close to the surface, and it takes over. You need to rein it in."
I threw a pillow at him in frustration. How do I rein it in? Somehow I didn't think my dissertation committee will be looking at me like they want to throw me down and screw me six ways to Sunday.
"Fine!" I stood, pulling in a breath before wandering aimlessly around the room. "It's different because Mina's and Lucy's actions were driven by love. Romantic, physical, fraternal, it doesn't matter! Where as the Weird Sisters were driven solely by thirst.
Yes, the common bond is lust; sexual attraction, but that is the only link between the two. The intent for Lucy and Mina was good, and intent is what counts."
I stopped my pacing to look up at Edward, my eyes wide in mortification at my answer.
He was smiling at me as if I'd just told him that E=MC2.
"Now that really wasn't that difficult, was it?"
I couldn't help but smile back. I felt like a little kid receiving praise for answering a question correctly. "No, but you did have to goad me."
"I didn't goad you. I just pushed you a little. You know this stuff, Bella. Have faith in yourself."
Have faith. It was easier said than done. Flopping down on the couch next to him, I sighed dramatically.
"Next thing you'll tell me to picture them all naked."
"No, the only person I want you picturing naked is me, and I'd rather have the real thing." He grabbed me around the waist, pulling me onto his lap. "So should I reward you for your break through? A bit of Pavlovian reinforcement?"
"I don't want reinforcement, thank you." My hands were resting on his chest, and I could feel the steady rhythm of his heart. It had become my anchor, my calming point when I felt ruffled. My hand on his chest and that easy constant beat always calmed me down. "I'd be perfectly happy if you took me to bed and fucked me senseless."
"For an English major, your language is absolutely atrocious, you know that?" Edward wisecracked as he leaned back into the couch.
"I was making a point for dramatics," I shot back, confused. I'd expected my feeble attempt at talking dirty to spur him on, not push him away.
"Is that what it was? What if I don't want to 'fuck you senseless' to use your parlance?"
"Your loss," I retorted, trying to stand up.
Edward sighed and tightened his arms around my waist. "Bella, I am not trying to antagonize you. I am making a point. Don't think this is only about sex. I want more from you than that."
He was right, it was easy to let the physical aspect of our attraction take over, drive our interactions. There was more to us than that; it was just all wrapped up in a complex, infuriating bundle that interconnected. Sometimes it was hard to separate lust from love, affection and attention.
"I'm sorry." I looked down at my lap, embarrassed. "This is just all so new to me. I don't know how to balance what my brain and body are telling me, and for some reason my body tends to shout the loudest around you," I admitted sheepishly.
"Damn hormones," he teased and kissed me on the forehead. "I'm just as guilty. It's easy to get swept away in it all. And unfortunately," Edward glanced down at his watch. "Getting swept away would make you late. You promised Rose that you would be there by noon, so you'd better get a move on."
Groaning, I pushed up off the couch and straightened my t-shirt. "I know, I know. I'm going. We'll see you at 2."
Edward smacked my butt as I leaned down to grab my backpack.
"You aren't helping, Edward," I chided.
"Sorry, it was there, how could I resist?" He gave me a wide eyed innocent look. I knew better. "Why don't you leave your backpack here? You'll be back later tonight, save your spine and all that rubbish."
"You are a hematologist, not a Chiropractor, Dr. Masen," I mocked him. "Just remember, you promised that you'd give Emmett a run down on the rules, okay? No torturing the Yank, no matter how much you like to wind him up."
Edward sighed dramatically and held his hands up in resignation. "Fine, fine. I'll help him out. But once we start playing, he's on his own."
Blowing Edward a kiss, I made my way down to the street to hail a cab. Rose was going to pick up food and meet me at the flat by noon to start packing up. We'd promised Emmett we would meet him at the park at two with the trappings of an all American picnic. Fried chicken, potato salad, deviled eggs, the works. Emmett insisted if he was going to play a 'pansy ass game' like Rugby, he sure as hell was going to do it his own way.
The entire concept of Emmett playing rugby came on a dare from a British colleague who had gotten tired of Emmett talking about American football. He'd dared Emmett to give rugby a try, telling him that real men play a sport that doesn't require protective gear. Edward had volunteered to back him up and to give him a crash course in the rules, but I knew Edward well enough to expect that there would be laughs at Emmett's expense.
We'd spent a lot of time with Emmett since returning from Whitby. He and Edward had actually become fast friends, and bonded in a way that only men can. A stranger would wonder if they hadn't been friends for years the way they joked around.
It was nice to see the two men that I loved, albeit in different ways, find a common ground to work from. I could see through the bluster and bravado that Emmett put up easily, and I could tell that he was lonely. He'd mentioned staying on in London indefinitely. If that were to happen, he needed to build a friend base that would be around in five or six months.
Speaking of Rose, we'd had a good heart to heart when I got back to London; both of us conciliatory to our behavior, but agreeing that the base intent was genuine.
As much as it had hurt, there was honesty in both our words that night. It was painful to hear, but we had both learned and adjusted our actions out of it. Rose's first step had been a phone conversation with Royce while I was in Whitby, telling him that she didn't want a romantic involvement. That didn't end the phone calls or flower deliveries, but to me, it was a step in the right direction.
And just like he had mentioned when we spoke in the car that day, Rose and Emmett sat down to talk about the state of their relationship. Not only what had transpired, but where it was going. I had desperately wanted to ask how it went, and what was decided, but I knew it was inappropriate to pry when I was so close to both of them.
Deep down, I knew that there was something more than just a physical attraction between them, but I also knew that my dabbling would only make things worse. So I did the only thing I could do. Offered shoulders to both of them, and made sure I was out of the flat as much as possible. The less I was around, the more opportunity they would had to convert what ever had been before into something longer lasting.
There were times when I felt guilty about not spending more time with Rose, but that was invariably tempered by the realization that her project would be up in another month and a half, sending us both back to the states. I had done some digging into the cost of potentially staying in London, although the cost of living was astronomical, especially given the fact that I had minimal to no job prospects over here. At one point, I toyed with asking Jasper for help, but knew that an institution like Kings wouldn't touch a freshly minted doctoral candidate with a ten foot pole. The ability to stay and make ends meet while working in a bookstore or the desk at library as laughable, and as much as I realized that this is where I wanted to be, I couldn't accept Edward's offer to cover my expenses. I needed to be able to truly stand on my own before I could ever think about depending on someone else, simply for the knowledge that I could do it if necessary.
I owed that to myself.
My reverie was broken when the cabbie announced that we had arrived. I paid him, and was climbing out of the car as I saw Rose coming up the street, arms loaded down with. I held out a hand to take one from her.
"What did you buy?" I asked as I peeked over the edge.
"All kinds of junk food. I ran out of time, so I grabbed a bunch of finger food."
"What happened to fried chicken?" When I spoke to Rose yesterday morning, she'd told me about her grand plans to make everything from scratch in exchange for me providing home made potato salad and deviled eggs.
"Royce showed up unannounced," she answered quietly, not meeting my gaze. "I had to deal with that."
I followed Rose up the stairs, waiting for her to continue. Whatever had happened, it obviously wasn't good.
"Look, I am not going to beat around the bush Bella, because this could affect you too. He was drunk, and he was pissed off. He was going on and on about how he wanted me back, that he loved me. I tried to be diplomatic and convince him to leave, but then he tried to force his way in. I managed to get the door closed and bolted and hoped that he would get the clue, but it totally set him off. He started pounding on the door demanding that I let him in. I couldn't do it though, something just felt off about it. That's when he started kicking and banging on the door, like he was trying to knock it down."
We cleared the last step and turned towards our flat I gasped.
The door looked as though it had been attacked with a hammer or something. Chunks of wood were gouged out of the door and millwork. There were also a few large dents in the plaster around the frame, as if it had been caught in the cross fire as well.
"Jesus Rose…" I stepped forward to run my hand across a dent in the wall.
"I called the police, and they ran him off, but it was…" She broke off, voice shaking.
"Why didn't you call me? I would have come home."
"I left. I didn't think it was wise for either of us to be here."
Unable to tear my gaze away from the door, I processed her words, horrified at what could have happened.
"Where did you go?"
She still wouldn't look me in the eye. "Emmett's."
"What did you tell him?"
Rose unlocked the door and pushed it open. "That there was a drunk guy causing problems in the building, and that I was too spooked to be there alone."
"You didn't tell him the truth." I wasn't an attack, simply an observation.
"No, I censored, but I didn't lie. He would have gone off half cocked and done who knows what. I didn't want him to do anything stupid. Royce's family has some serious clout, and I don't want to think what they could do to Emmett."
Looking around the apartment, I turned over her comments in my mind. Something didn't make sense. She was too calm and collected about the whole thing. She'd thought this through way too well.
"Rose, this isn't the first time he's gotten out of hand, is it?"
She set the paper bag on the kitchen counter, and leaned back with her arms crossed over her chest. I'd never seen her look as tired or defeated as she did standing in our tiny little kitchen, the weight of the world on her shoulders.
"He pushed it verbally a few times, but he had always been drinking. The only time it ever came close to physical was that night that Emmett was here, and we got into it."
"What'd he do, Rose?"
Running her hands through her hair, Rose closed her eyes and took a long breath.
"He wanted to come in, to have sex with me. Well, actually, his euphemisms weren't so polite. I told him he had too much to drink and to leave me alone. He didn't like that, and decided to try and give things a go in the hallway. He was taunting me, calling me a tease for holding out on him, that sort of thing."
"So the slam against the door was…?" I needed her to say it, to be honest.
"The slam against the door was me."
My hands immediately flew to my mouth, stifling a gasp. It was a stupid reaction, but I couldn't help it.
"He was totally conciliatory after, and I chalked it up to him not being able to hold his alcohol. But the more I saw him, the more I realized that he wasn't the nice guy I thought he was. I guess I got caught up in the romance of 'who' he was enough to discount his actions. It's stupid, and I made my own bed, but I've dealt with it now of."
She pushed off the counter, and started moving around the kitchen, focusing on moving bottles of beer from the refrigerator to a soft sided cooler.
"It's all over now, Bella. I was stupid, and should have broken it off a long time ago, but I didn't. But it's taken care of now, and he's not going to bug me anymore. The police coming here last night pretty much assured that. Now come on, we have stuff to pack."
Rose made a valiant attempt to lighten the mood and shift both our thoughts away from Royce King and our battered front door. She told stories about work and hinted at the fact that she'd be approached about extending her stay, even opening up about Emmett a bit. I could tell that it was hard for her, but if she didn't want to talk about it, then I would have to let it be. Once we got to the park I'd figure out a way to get Edward alone and fill him in as to what had happened. He'd know what to do about protective orders in England, as well as what the police could do to help keep Rose safe.
I never thought I would say it, but the thought of calling Mike actually crossed my mind. He would have known what to in a situation like this. But calling would have been wrong on my part.
By 1:45 we'd packed up food, blankets, and umbrellas, and loaded everything into a cab, which dropped us off in front of a small local park. We easily located the game, already in progress, following the laughter and raucous singing. Two large knots of men dressed in all states of athletic apparel dominated the field. The sidelines were full of women and children, socializing, playing, or just enjoying the game.
It was easy to pick Emmett out. The bright blue and white of his Tennessee Titans football jersey stood out like a neon sign against the muted neutrals and dark colors of the other players. He waved hello, grinning and tugging on the front of his jersey with a thumbs up. Rose shook her head, mumbling something under her breath about large children before waving back. She could grumble and grouse all she wanted; there was no denying the smile that lit up her face when she saw Emmett.
We spread out the blankets as Rose pulled beers from a soft sided cooler. I grabbed the bag of popcorn we had popped at home. We probably looked like idiots, but we'd promised Emmett an all American throw down, and we were going to give it to him.
About fifteen minutes into play, a steady drizzle started to fall. We pulled up the blankets, and took refuge under our umbrellas with our beers.
Emmett was clearly struggling to pick up the rules of the game, but his athleticism and enthusiasm gave him a natural advantage. He stopped the opposing team from advancing the ball a few times, although his 'touch' was a little over zealous, resulting in at least a few bodies on the ground. Everyone seemed to be good natured about it, and took to taunting Emmett about Rugby being a gentleman's sport. I didn't know much about the game, but even I knew that wasn't true.
He and Edward made a good pair, Em blocking as Edward dodged and weaved around the opposing team. I was surprised at how fast he was. I'd never really thought about him in relation to sports, yet seeing him playing rugby, it seemed like the most natural thing in the world.
We stayed huddled under the umbrellas, drinking beer and catcalling from the sideline as Emmett missed tagging an opponent. The grass was wet enough to make traction difficult, and he ended up flat on his ass, howling with laughter.
"You know, there is one good thing to this," Rose observed as she took a sip from a bottle of beer.
"What would that be?" I asked, pulling my blanket closer in around me to close out the chill in the air.
Instead of answering, Rose inclined the neck of her bottle towards the field. Edward's hand was extended, pulling Emmett to his feet. They stood side by side, Edward gesturing as if explaining something. The rain had soaked his hair, making it appear almost black, and he pushed it back from his eyes with a careless gesture. Emmett's baseball hat was on backward, and the crown was dark from the moisture. Both of their legs and shorts were streaked in mud and grass.
"I'm not kinky type of girl at all, but if that visual doesn't make you consider a threesome, nothing will," Rose stated innocently.
"Hey, get your dirty mind off my boyfriend!" I watched Emmett throw his head back in laughter, pushing Edward's shoulder in jest. Edward pushed him back, a wicked grin on his face. "On second thought, you can have all the naughty fantasies you want, just be quiet while I stare and drool."
We watched them walk back to the huddle, joking and playing around like two teenage boys.
"How many flag football games did we go to in college? I sure as hell don't remember them ever looking like that." She stared longingly at Emmett, who pulled his jersey up
to wipe the water away from his face. "Damn, look at that stomach! I could lick the water right off of him…"
"I don't want or need to hear what you'd like to do to him, thank you very much." I teased Rose as I watched Edward flick the ball around carelessly. I watched his hands in fascination, amazed at how effortless he made it looked. He paused, looking up to flash me an absolutely devilish grin. He busted me staring, and he wasn't going to let me live it down. But it was okay, I knew that smile. And I knew the thoughts that typically accompanied it. This game needed to be over, soon. Rose wasn't the only one who was getting worked up by the rampant display of bravado and testosterone.
"He's got it just as bad as you do. You two are border line sickening," Rose observed as she glanced at me, a self satisfied smile highlighting her amusement.
"Stop it!" I protested, looking away to hide my embarrassment at being caught. Fortunately, play resumed, and with it, the banter and teasing as Emmett continued to try and pick up the concept of Rugby. After each dead play, Edward would walk him through what happened and why. They'd stand close together, Edward's arm thrown over Emmett's shoulders as he explained why something happened or how Emmett should have handled the situation.
While I'd never admit it to her, Rose was right, watching the two of them standing together did give a girl ideas, and I felt the blood rush to my face in embarrassment for even considering it.
They played for another hour, getting progressively muddier as the rain continued to fall. By the time the game was called, both Emmett and Edward were soaking wet, their clothes streaked with mud and grass stains.
"Rosie, baby, come give me a big ole smooch!" Emmett called as he sauntered over, arms held wide and a goofy smile on his face.
"No way, you are a disgusting mess!" Rose held her hands up to block him, but I noticed that she also didn't push back when he pulled her into a hug and nuzzled into her neck.
"Aww come on, don't be that way…" Emmett pleaded innocently.
"I think I am going to be sick…" I teased, looking away. Secretly I was ecstatic. It was the closest I'd seen to any real affection between them, and I couldn't help but silently sigh in relief.
"What, Emmett gets a kiss and I don't?" Edward's voice was quiet in my ear. He stepped in behind me; close enough to whisper without touching.
"I didn't realize you wanted one."
"Oh there are a number of things that I want, Isabella. But none of them appropriate in front of all these people."
"Stop it! You are not going to get me all wound up here…"
Edward chuckled and planted a kiss on my cheek. "Fine, I'll just take you home then. You can help me get cleaned up. I seem to have mud in some inopportune places."
"You're not taking her anywhere, bub!" Rose called out. "You two are going to go get cleaned up and buy us a few pints for standing out here in the rain. It's the least you can do!"
"I don't know, Rose. I kind of like the mud." I looked up at Edward through my eyelashes. I didn't want to go drinking, I wanted to go home. Now. With him.
"No way! We are going to go out and have a good time. Simple as that!" Rose protested. She was busy folding up blankets and stuffing them back in the bag. Emmett sat on the ground next to her, taking a pull off the beer she had given him.
"Come on, Bella. It will be fun. We'll toss back a few, then you two can go back to Edward's and do all that kinky shit that we know you repressed types like to do."
"He does have a point, you know," Edward teased quietly. "You do come off a bit repressed."
I jabbed Edward in the ribs in mock consternation. He laughed and pulled me into an embrace, a quick kiss on the cheek his conciliatory gesture.
"And if I recall, you do get rather feisty when you drink, so maybe we should go after all," Edward whispered in my ear. "I could end up having some fun with this."
Emmett stood up, clapping his shoes together to shake off the mud.
"We'll meet you at the usual spot in an hour, okay? Should give me more than enough time to get cleaned up." He knotted the shoes and draped them over the strap of the bag. "Edward, you can shower at my place so you don't have to schlep home."
Edward cocked an eyebrow at Emmett with a dubious look. "Schlepp? What the bloody hell is that?"
We parted ways at the entry to the park, with the promise to meet at our pub in an hour. The mood was light on the ride home, and was only slightly dampened when I took in our mauled front door.
I had forgotten to mention the whole Royce situation to Edward. I simply couldn't shake the feeling that we hadn't seen the last of him. But Royce King didn't deserve my thoughts tonight. I wanted to go out and have a good time with my friends, not waste my time on him.
"Emmett's going to see the door when he comes over, you know," I reminded Rose as I headed for my bedroom.
"I am hoping that they'll have it fixed before then," she called back.
"You can't hide this from him. Nor should you. Emmett has a right to know. He'd want to help."
"Maybe I don't want him to help." Rose stood in my doorway, a brush in her hand. "It was bad enough that I dated them both at the same time. He doesn't need Royce thrown in his face again. Nor does he need to protect me; I am a big girl Bella."
"I hope you know what you are doing, Rose. I appreciate you wanting to protect Emmett, but he deserves to know."
Since we were going to the pub, there was no need to change clothes. Hair and teeth were brushed, makeup touched up and we were ready to go.
"You two looked cozy today. Dare I say it; is there a thaw in the nuclear winter?" I teased as I opened our door.
"Maybe. Although it takes an awful lot of heat to thaw things out."
"Somehow, Ms. Hale, I don't think you will have any issue generating heat with the Redneck," I shot back. I loved being able to tease her again. I could tell be the look on her face that she felt it too.
I stepped forward into the hallway as Rose pulled the door shut to lock it.
"Oh we've never had a problem with heat. It's logic that kills me every time. I'm around him, and I just want clothes to be gone."
"Well isn't that just bloody lovely. You are quite the little tramp, aren't you Rosalie?" A cultured voice rang out from the top of the steps. Royce stood there, fists balled, face a livid red.
He took a step forward, his eyes never leaving Rose. "Tarting around with a new chap, are we? I should have expected as much from you."
Something was off. It was apparent that he was angry, but his words were delivered in a cold, clipped fashion. He sounded almost robotic.
"Go call the police, Rose." The words were out of my mouth before I could think.
"No, Rosalie. Don't you dare. You and I have things to discuss."
My mind was racing, and all I could think of were the gouges in the door. If he did that to try and get at Rose, what would happen if he finally caught her?
Anger sparked a course of adrenaline through me, and I stepped forward without thinking.
"You have no business here after last night. You need to leave now." My tone was cold, and I hoped, authoritative. But Royce just laughed.
"Or what, you'll ring the constable? I think not. Not like they would listen to either of you little sluts anyway. Now run along so that Rosalie and I can talk."
His words infuriated me. His arrogance, the entitlement. I pulled myself up as tall as I could, hands on my hips.
"Leave. Now."
"Bella, it's not…" Rose called out from behind me. But it was too late. Royce's arm swung once, his palm catching me across my cheek, rocking my head back. My mouth filled with warm liquid that tasted of copper and salt.
His second circuit was with a closed fist, not an open palm. It knocked me off balance, sending me stumbling backwards. I vaguely registered Rose calling my name as I stepped back, trying to catch my balance.
A sharp pain exploded in my head along with a bright light.
Then everything went dark.