Chapter 18.
Edward.
Jasper and Emmett were hosting yet another college party. I was getting sick of them, frankly, and had managed to persuade Alice that I was feeling too low to attend a party especially if Bella were to be there.
Of course, that was a lie. I was feeling okay. I still held my reservations about the chances of Bella forgiving me, but I was not going to back down. What the real problem stood to be was that I could not direct my thoughts from Rachel and Bella; how I was unable to read them. It drove me near to the point of insanity.
"Last chance to come tonight" said Alice, poking her head around my bedroom door. I threw a book at her softly yet it still collided with the door violently, causing a loud bang. She pulled a face at me and left for the party.
Can't believe he's still feeling bad. He's lying.
"Not lying, Alice" I mumbled, knowing she would be able to hear. She ignored me and I soon heard the front door slam shut behind her.
I had the house to myself, since Carlisle and Esme had gone away on a hunting trip. I knew they just wanted privacy, and I respected that. I felt the same desire for privacy every single day. We all did.
I could have made the most of having the house to myself. I could have put on the television perhaps, or maybe practiced chess. But I didn't want to. None of that appealed to me.
Instead of staying alone in Forks, I decided to make a visit to Phoenix. I knew that I needed to speak to Charlie Swan.
The thought had occurred to me that morning while I was in class. Advanced calculus was always a bore, and I had already completed the course twice. I could afford to 'day dream.' My thoughts drifted to Charlie, and how Bella had told me that my leaving also hurt him and his relationship with her. I needed to apologise to him for ruining his daughter's life.
Not only did I need to apologise, but I needed to ask him questions. Certain questions that had hounded me for days about the two years Bella had experienced in my absence. I had an undying urge to know more and more about her. I was not used to knowing so little about a person.
I had also come to the conclusion that the reminder of my human days could help me, maybe give me some more understanding or closure. I didn't know what effect it might actually have, but returning back home was worth a try. All I was certain of was that my trip to Phoenix would not necessarily be a pleasant one. There was a lot I had abandoned there. Not just people but memories, feelings, addictions.
My hands jittery with nerves, I pulled a small, leather-covered notebook from underneath my sofa and started to scribble down an explanation for my absence. Nobody would mind me leaving, but I thought it would be inconsiderate of me to leave without any notice even if Alice would be aware of my absence soon.
I signed off the small note and left it on the dining table, in clear sight of anybody who stepped into the room. I could have called, but truthfully I just needed to leave. I feared I would change my mind all too quickly and I would continue to exist never knowing what lie in Phoenix, festering away in the bottom drawer of my bedroom or bubbling in Charlie's mind.
I grabbed my car keys from the kitchen island and pulled on my coat. The material felt unusually scratchy against my skin and my hands started to shake. I was uncomfortable, I was anxious and most of all – I was scared shitless.
Tucking my cell phone and a wad of money into the front pocket of my jeans, I stepped out of the door into the night and made a beeline for my car. It was parked on the other side of the road, underneath a large tree. I took a small moment to admire my car. It was one of the few things I really loved about my new life. That, and my family.
It was a brand new silver Volvo. It had enough horse power to tow twenty elephants and more speed than I could manage. Just.
I had to admit to myself, ashamedly, that I was jealous of my car. It was so fast, so perfect. I wanted to be as fast, or faster, than its fragile metal frame. I wanted to be as elegant as my Volvo. It was so untroubled, too. Just a car. It had no concerns apart from having the right amount of gas and an oiled engine. I ran my hands along the roof of my car enviously and slipped into the driver's side, ready for the journey I was about to embark upon.
It was a few days worth of driving to Phoenix, but I didn't mind. I spent a lot of the time admiring the view. I kept my foot planted firmly down on the acceleration pedal the whole way, not once encountering police or other obstacles.
This unnerved me.
Usually something went wrong, but everything had been fine. There were barely any other cars, and when there were, they paid no attention to me. Only once did I have to make a stop to replenish my car with gas, and it was during dark hours.
I didn't get luck like this, and I took it as a bad omen; a sign that something terrible was on its way.
But I did not let the surely impending doom bother me as I sped along the lengthy roads, eyeing the shrubbery that was now diminishing to nothing but the occasional cacti and bare tree. It was summer, and summer in Phoenix left nothing unharmed. It claimed the ugly trees, the thick grasses and even some of the townsfolk. I remembered vaguely watching the news one year only to hear that the death toll had risen to eight people. Those eight people, I had found out later on, had died of heat exhaustion.
Phoenix definitely displayed no mercy.
When the familiar shops and houses passed me in the dark, I edged my foot gently off of the accelerator. I had to take a moment to gather myself before venturing. I was near my home. I could nearly smell the misery and loss it represented.
Just as I had calmed myself, I noticed two stumbling figures on the sidewalk. It only took a small moment of thought until I was able to recall who they were.
The two people whom I least wanted to see, let alone remember, ever again. One was Samantha Golsin – who had been determined to make both mine and Bella's lives hell. The other, a great burly figure, I recognised as the oaf who had harassed Bella when I had first met her. It was strange how I remembered everything so clearly after so long of nothingness.
The two staggered up to my car and began knocking obnoxiously on the driver's window. I had contemplated just driving off and forgetting I had ever seen them, but something took hold of me. I wasn't exactly out of control; I never lost my grasp on who I was. It was something beyond vampiric instincts that drove me to unwind my window.
It was pure hate. It was lust for revenge.
Samantha looked even uglier now that I could see her with my heightened senses. I could see nearly every makeup filled pore, every dirt speck in her ratty hair. The idea that I once thought she was attractive sickened me.
"E-Edward Masen?" she slurred, leaning into my car to get a better look at me. I was surprised she remembered who I was, and that she was capable of producing words after drinking so much. I could smell the spirits on her breath.
I merely looked at her while she withdrew from my car and tugged Oaf on the shoulder, whispering in his ear about me.
Holy shit. Edward Masen? I'll bash the fucker. He's the little shit who broke my fucking nose that year.
I allowed myself a small smirk at the memory that had come flooding back. It had felt so nice to feel the impact of his nose against my fist - over and over and over again.
"You'll wish you never came back to this fucking town" Oaf spat at me suddenly, seemingly trying to intimidate me.
I threw my head back and laughed hoarsely, "Show me how you're going to make that happen" I teased, leaning my head out of the undone window to give him a clear shot.
With drearily slow human speed, he pulled his fist back and brought it forward feebly to meet my own nose. I heard a crunch and a groan. The sound was brilliant, and drew a smile upon my face as I laughed softly at his pain.
He had broken his knuckles on my skin.
Oaf was now lying on the ground, sobbing into his hands. I could smell the metallic scent of blood in the air, but it was not appealing to me. There was something bitter to it.
"What the fuck?!" screamed Samantha, who was wobbling where she stood. I turned my head up, flashing her the most devilish smile I could. She grabbed Oaf, dragging him away from me in tears, her thoughts a mess of confusion and horror.
I chuckled to myself and continued down the road to my house, watching them struggle in the reflection of my rear-view mirror.
I already felt a great deal better than I had just moments ago.
**
It was only a few more minutes of speeding until my eyes met the familiar rotting shackles and overgrown garden. My stomach lurched at the sight, and I gripped my steering wheel so tightly I started to feel my fingers carve indentations. Hastily, I pulled my hands off of the wheel and turned my car off. I didn't move after that.
There was something heavy on my chest, it felt like death looming over me, ready to strike. But it wasn't death. It was guilt and pure fucking anguish. The years I had spent in this house had been my worst, yet also my best. It housed my drinking problem, my mother's depression. However it had also housed Bella.
And Bella was everything.
I sighed inwardly and made my way out of the car slowly as though I was afraid that the corpse of my mother might come hurdling out of the unhinged front door towards me, spitting vomit and blood whilst screaming at me for not saving her; for not being good enough to keep her alive.
Of course, that would never happen.
I crossed the lawn, watching each individual blade of grass crumple under my weight. The grass had grown a considerable amount and was almost up to my kneecaps.
Before approaching the front door, I allowed myself a moment to prepare myself for the shock that was certain to come once I stepped into my old house. I eyed the moss-covered roof, the lead-painted window frames and the entire dull feeling of the house. It was not longer a home and it was barely a house. It was more like a tomb to me, and I had no doubt that people walking past experienced that feeling as well.
I took a very deep, unnecessary breath and stepped through the door. It was already partially ajar, and I was not surprised to find nearly all of the furniture had been stolen. I allowed myself another moment of calm before examining the room further. From the entrance I could see, in perfect view, the living room. The place of my mother's death.
Something struck me then. It was hard and fast, like a head-on collision. My knees began to shake; my breathing became more desperate and alarmed. I clawed at the wall to stop my knees from giving way but it was no use; the plaster was as malleable as dough. As I slid down to the ground numbly, my fingers ran through the plaster as if it was not even there.
My eyes never left the place where she died. Images of her pale, limp body slumped over the couch flashed through my mind and I was overcome with nausea. My whole body began to shake like it had never before, and I was instantly reminded of my human self. The shaking, the nausea, the pure feeling of weakness and hopelessness. In essence, I had not changed a fraction.
"Mother" I croaked, my voice heavy with despair. What would she think of me now? I had spent so long hating her for taking her own life, but now I finally understood why. She wanted the best for me and she knew that her presence was only hindering my life.
She wanted her death to bring me some relief after the initial grief. She wanted to die for a purpose. But I had failed her. Not only did I cause her death to be in vain, but I further hindered my own life. I let my darker emotions control me until I was nothing but a drinking machine. I had completely and utterly failed her.
Not only her, but Bella. The two people who meant something to me. I hurt them. I failed them both.
I stood up finally, my surroundings spinning slightly from the disorientation of my episode. Deciding to overcome everything, I stepped into the vicinity of the living room, where she died. I walked slowly over to where the couch had once been and knelt down, caressing the rough carpet with my two palms. It was the last connection I had to her, this house. I felt closer to my mother than I ever had at that moment, with both palms running softly over the spot of carpet she had once laid, smelling the lingering scent of alcohol and death. No human would be able to smell it, of course, and I wondered if I may have just been hallucinating.
Either way, I could smell her. I could smell everything that had happened in the house. Inhaling deeply, I let my eyelids droop and I let my nose completely take control. I rose from the floor, following the different scents throughout the house. I walked into the kitchen, sniffing the air that was thick with cleaning products and something familiar.
And when I moved past the staircase, I knew what the smell was.
Bella.
I sucked in air sharply, tearing open my eyes and almost expecting to see her standing in front of me with her thick, curly hair, plump lips and tiny frame. I near smiled at the mental image. What I would've given to have her back with me then, as if nothing had ever gone wrong.
I peered up the staircase and knew what I had to do. I hadn't planned on seeing my room again, as I was disgusted at what it represented. The room had been my sanctuary once, where I would escape from my mother to write music or think about Bella. But as time progressed, it became my own hell. I had no doubt that the room represented another kind of hell for Bella as well.
The stairs groaned under my weight as I sauntered delicately up them, my eyes set on the door that led to my bedroom. With an inward sigh, I pushed softly on the wooden door and watched it swing open slowly.
As the door inched open, more of the room became visible. And as I saw each feature appear, my head became fuzzier. It was as if my body didn't want me to enter the room, and I couldn't blame it.
I was more than shocked to find that my room had not been looted. My bed still lay against the far wall, but I couldn't remember leaving it so tidy. From what I had seen, I had left the house in complete disarray. The floor of my room had been scattered with empty alcohol bottles and soiled clothing. But as I looked at my tidy, organised room, I could only come to one conclusion.
Bella.
Her smell in the room was evident, and even a fool couldn't ignore what she had obviously done. She had cleaned my room. She had stayed here, in this dull and lifeless house, to clean.
I stepped into the room, my walk heavy with the burden I had cast upon myself two years ago. Her smell was even more prominent now that I was surrounded by the familiar stained walls of my room. I gazed upon the perfectly made bed in something close to awe, and felt myself compelled to lie upon its surface once more. I didn't know what drove me to, but I shuffled to the bed and stretched out on its plush covers, breathing in Bella's scent.
As my head rested on the pillow, her smell hit me in such a concentrated form that I choked and spluttered. She had to have been here, on my bed, lying on my pillow. Such a smell could not conjugate from little exposure. She had slept in my bed.
It was too much to bear the thought of Bella lying under my covers, weeping into my pillow. My body ached with guilt and despair I had not yet felt to such a degree. I jolted up from my bed and ran back down the stairs, straight out of the fucking front door. I'd had enough of my past to last me the next five hundred years.
**
It was verging on midnight. I realised that most humans weren't awake and active at this time, but I couldn't possibly wait in that...house...for night to come once again. This was my only chance.
I drove for ten minutes in my car trying to shut out the image of Bella in my bed, alone. Not once was I successful in doing so. She stayed there, etched in like a glowing hot brand on a cow's behind.
I came to a sudden halt when I noticed the house three blocks ahead of where I was. The Swan house. I sucked in numerous deep breaths and parked my car on the opposite side of the road, not wanting to alarm Charlie. However turning up after two years missing, in the middle of the night, was going to alarm him anyway.
I walked down the lengthy driveway and came to a halt at his front doors. I remembered them clearly now, how they had intimidated me. How the whole fucking house had intimidated me. I reached out a hand and placed in on the large knocker, ready to strike it gently against the oak door. Before I could, I heard a noise from inside. Approaching footsteps.
Who the hell is at my door at this hour?!
I took my hand hastily off the knocker and stepped back in fear. It could have been, at any other time, amusing that the predator feared its prey once again. I could imagine Emmett's face upon hearing that I had become fearful of a human twice in the space of a few months.
Yes, very funny.
The door swung open violently and I jumped in shock. Charlie Swan was facing me; teeth bared like a dog with accompanying furrowed brows that sent nervous shudders throughout my body.
Charlie looked me up and down for a moment, his expression turned from furious to unreadable. His thoughts were a jumble of confusion and sheer hate. He looked into my eyes with a glare that I had not even received from Rosalie, took a step backwards, and proceeded to slam the door in my face without one word.
I waited for something to happen. I wasn't sure what, but I had been certain that Charlie wouldn't leave me on his doorstep in such a manner. But then again, I had ruined his daughter's life, and most likely his too.
Before I could let my fear take over and propel me to run away, I raised my hand and pounded my fist down onto the oak door firmly.
Charlie was at the door again within seconds.
Can't he see he's not welcome here?
"Mr...Chief Swan" I said quietly, trying not to let my voice crack under pressure, "I'm here to apologise for..."
"Bella isn't here. You're not welcome."
"I know she isn't here," I started, but fell silent once Charlie's mouth opened to speak.
"How do you know? Are you stalking her now?"
I'll take him down to the station. Yeah, they'll arrest him. We won't ever have to see him again.
"I am currently living in Washington. I have seen and spoken to Bella" I said confidently. Naturally, the confidence was all fake, a show. Inside I was a complete mess of nerves and self-hatred.
"I don't believe you" he said through his teeth. I nodded.
"I understand this, Chief Swan, but if you would just listen..."
"Nothing you could say to me would ever come close to making up for what you did to my Bella" he snarled.
His Bella. That's exactly what she was. She wasn't my Bella anymore. She was his.
"Chief Swan, please" I near begged.
"Why are you even here? Washington is quite a while away."
I don't know why he's bothering.
"I came here to see you, sir" I said stiffly.
And hope I would welcome him with open arms?
"Do you need money?" he asked, eyeing me with disgust. I shook my head quickly.
"I only wanted to speak to you."
"You've had your chance, now leave" Charlie said bluntly, moving to close the door on my face again. But something stopped me from letting him this time. A picture on the wall behind him.
I pushed out my arm to stop the door from completely closing. Charlie swore.
Arrest him. He's trespassing.
"Before I leave," I said, craning my neck to get a better view of the picture hanging proudly on the opposite wall, "May I see that picture?" I asked, nodding towards it.
Charlie looked at me, entirely flabbergasted at my request.
Is he on drugs? Another thing I could arrest him for...
"Sir, if you please" I interjected, trying my very best not to become annoyed. Charlie sighed, deciding in his head that one quick glance at a picture on his wall would not harm anybody, and opened the door to allow me a better view.
The picture was of a woman in bed, cradling a small child in her arms. I could easily tell who the child was; her dark brown hair and matching eyes were a completely giveaway. Baby Bella. I smirked at her beaming face and focused on the other figure in the picture. The woman.
My stomach nearly dropped out from inside of me when I saw who it was.
Rachel.
"W-who is that?" I asked Charlie, pointing to Rachel. He looked at me with a frown, wondering why I was suddenly so interested in a picture on his wall.
"Why," he said, "That's Bella's mother. Renee."
That was all I needed to hear. Without even saying goodbye, I raced back to my car and jumped in, firing up the engine and speeding back down the road. My hands gripped onto the steering wheel so tightly that my knuckles began to turn white. My breathing became ragged and urgent. My eyes were wide with fear.
Renee was Rachel. That's why I couldn't read her mind, just like Bella's. She was her mother. She was a vampire; a nomad; and she was after Bella.
I just hoped that I would find Bella before she did.