Chapter 3: Going, Going, Gone
Disclaimer: S. Meyer owns Twilight.
He called Bella right after school that day to make sure she was all right. She either was or else in denial as usual.
"You sure you're okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine."
He ran his hand quickly through his hair. She didn't sound fine—not at all. "You're fine ... Why do you always say that? Just tell me the truth. Don't say you're fine if you're not."
She hated that he so willingly took her troubles upon his shoulders. They were already sagging under all his responsibility. "You've got your own problems. The last thing you need is to be worrying about me too. The hair on your head will turn gray. I think I like it better black."
"I worry anyhow. There's not much I can do about it. You're my whole world, Bells. It's my job to worry."
There was a pause at the other end of the call. "I'm sorry, but I've gotta go. I have a ton of homework to do."
Jacob slumped back into the wall. "I have patrol duty, so I won't get to see you tonight. Looks like we're both out of luck. I love you, honey."
"Love you too."
The poor wolf boy couldn't sleep that night. So much had happened the previous day, and every time he thought about that filthy leech grunting and pumping his ice pop into the love of his life, he would start to vibrate. He wanted to rip the head off the bloodsucker soooo bad. It would make him happy to chew off his male bits too. He was halfway between wolf and human all night long, in limbo—as in mid-shift. It was pretty annoying to say the least, and there was no Scotty in the transporter room to bring his molecules back where they originated.
Things reverted back to normal for the rest of the week—sort of. Bella would continue to hang out in the Taj and help her best friend tinker with his Rabbit. He didn't push the boundaries though, even though the tick was out of the picture. So, Jacob patiently waited for her to give him the cue as to when he could safely advance his attentions. Hugs and hand holding were as far as he got—much to his disappointment, but his heart was hopeful, ready and waiting.
Then one day they were sitting together on the couch watching a movie. Bella had her hair pulled back in a ponytail. There was a stray lock that had escaped the elastic holder, and was hanging along her neck. Jacob, not really thinking about it, gently swept it aside, and tried to tuck it back into the band. A few minutes later, it had fallen out again, and this time he couldn't resist. He held the hair back with one hand and kissed the spot where it had been. Uh-oh, one little kiss became two, then three. Jacob got closer, running his lips along her jaw line. Bella began to squirm. His lips crept closer to hers slowly, giving her a chance to resist if she chose to. When she didn't seem to mind, he surrendered to his masculine impulses. Soon their lips were working in tandem. Oh man, he could do this forever. It was better than he could have ever imagined in his wildest dreams. While the moans were getting louder and more frequent. Jacob pulled her in tighter, and that's when everything went to hell.
Bella suddenly stiffened and began to pull away from him, batting at his arms, and crying hysterically. "No, please," she begged.
God, what did he do? He was only kissing her. It was nothing to be alarmed about.
Letting his arms drop, he muttered, "Hey, hey, hey, it's okay. You've been through a lot."
"I'm sorry, Jake. I'm really sorry."
"It's too soon. I should have realized that. I was being stupid. I just love you so much, and waited so long."
Her eyes lowered, and she quietly responded. "I know."
She got up, ready to rush off. "I should go home."
"No wait, you don't have to leave yet. I'll be good."
He raised his hands and wiggled his fingers in the air. "See? No hands."
Bella sat down again, but an awkward silence descended like a grey cloud around them for the rest of the evening.
She didn't come by the next day, and Jacob gave her some space. A desperate wolf was not very attractive, as Quil once pointed out, but damn it, couldn't she at least call?
When she did finally venture to La Push the following afternoon, Jacob was still in the house, leaving a visitor in the Taj. Okay ... so it was Mad Dog Lahote. Bella was startled to see Paul— of all wolves going through Jacob's tools. Crap ... Paul. She and Paul always had an uneasy truce.
"It's gotta be here somewhere," he growled. Then sensing her presence, he turned to face her. Rolling his eyes, he folded his arms to let her know he wasn't exactly pleased to see her.
"Hey, Bella," he greeted her, coldly.
"Hey, Paul. You seen Jake?"
Flicking his head in the direction of the door, he responded, "He's in the house, probably moonin' over you as usual."
He began to move forward to get within talking distance of her. Bella immediately jerked, and stepped back a couple of paces.
Paul stopped, in shock, and shrugged. Where was the girl with the bad temper—the one that punched him in the face without blinking an eye?
"What's with you?"
She backed away further, and tripped over some wiring left lying on the floor. Paul rushed over to catch her before she could fall and face-plant on the cement. He no sooner had his arms about her waist, when she pushed his hands off of her, yelling, "Don't touch me!"
"Damn, girl; I'm not gonna drag your ass to my lair. So what's your beef?"
She sped out of the garage much to his surprise, and ran smack into Jacob's rock-hard pecs as he was coming out of the house.
Breathless, and with her palms out, she turned in the opposite direction. Hopping into her truck, she tore out of the driveway.
"Bella!" he shouted, but it was useless. His girl was already heading down the road. Just then, Paul came sauntering out of the garage. When Jacob spotted the bad boy, he put two and two together and came up with a resounding—%$%^&*(# # $$!
"What did you do to her, Paul?" he yelled as he got closer.
"Hey, waaaiiit a minute! I didn't lay a finger on 'er. Well, maybe I gave her a hand or two."
Jacob didn't like the smug look on the other boy's face. In a split second he phased, sailing into Paul, who followed suit. The two of them were at it until Paul's brain screamed, Wolf!
As they walked back to the yard, Paul insisted, "I told you, I didn't touch her—I swear. She just walked in, took one look at me, got all flustered, and started acting weird. And I mean weird—even weirder than usual. She's definitely certifiable. How can you stand it, man? That chick is high maintenance. She seriously could use some couch time at a shrink's office."
Jacob gave what Paul said some deep thought. Was Bella suffering from post traumatic stress disorder? It was just his luck. Things seemed to be going so well, and now this!
Thirty full minutes elapsed before Jacob called, but there was no answer at her house. She didn't pick up on her cell either. As a last resort, he phoned Newton's—nothing. What the hell ...?
Okay, he reasoned. She's upset. So give her time to calm down.
Messages were left on her answering machine for the next couple of days.
"Hey, Bells. Can you call me, please? I don't know why you were so upset when you left the last time, but let's talk about it, okay?
"Bells, are you there? Can you pickup, if you are? Are you mad at me for some reason? C'mon, Bells; I'm dyin' here.
"Bella ... Stop bein' so stubborn. Will you just call me already? I'm goin' nuts!"
Why wouldn't she return his damn phone calls? This was bordering on ridiculous, or even cruel, if he really thought about it. Charlie had answered once or twice, so Jacob knew she had to be home, but she was too busy to talk? Since when?
On the fifth day, she finally spoke to him, but gave some lame excuse that she had been spending a lot of time at the library, doing research for a term paper. Sure she was.
Jacob was getting concerned, but waited patiently. He thought about going wolf and running over there, but he restrained himself. He'd take the Rabbit, but as Murphy's law would have it, it was in need of a new battery. He nearly had enough saved to buy one. As soon as was finished fixing the Call's car, he'd get paid and could finally afford it.
Then one day, as Jacob sat at the kitchen table doing homework, Charlie called him.
"What's going on, Jacob? Did you two have a fight or something?"
Jacob nervously tapped the pen he was holding on his notebook. "Beats me. She came over last week, and I didn't even get to say hello before she flew away from here like a bat outta hell."
"You haven't been getting fresh with her, have you?"
Not likely. "Are you kiddin'? I wish—but no, not even close."
"Your wishes better not be granted, Son."
Leaning back in his seat, Jacob groused, "Oh, c'mon, Charlie, you were young once. You know how it is."
"Yes, I do know, so you better be careful around my girl."
Charlie cleared his throat, then continued, "Well, listen, something's definitely wrong. She won't talk to me about whatever it is that's bothering her. Maybe she'll talk to you. If you find out anything, will you let me know? I'm really getting worried about her."
"Sure, sure." In a pig's eye! He was not touching that with a ten-footer. That'd be up to Bella, unless things got drastic in a hurry, and it looked like drastic was right around the corner.
Another week rushed on by, with the same old run around. Jacob had enough of this crap. He was going to discuss the problem with her whether she wanted to or not.
After patrol one clear night, he ran in wolf guise to Bella's house. He surveyed the place swiftly. Charlie's cruiser was nowhere in sight. He must've been working late. Jacob thought about knocking on the door, but seeing as she'd been so elusive recently, he decided on the alternative. He went around to the side yard and looked up. Luckily her bedroom window was open. He climbed the big pine tree next to the wall and catapulted over the casement, landing quietly on the carpeted floor.
Sitting in the middle of her bed, she turned to him, startled, as he bellowed, "This is bullsh**, Bells. What the hell is goin' on? Talk to me, dammit!"
Her eyes darted away for a moment. "There's nothing to talk about. I've just been bogged down with work and school."
"Don't give me that crap. That never stopped you before. Two weeks, Bells—two weeks. You don't visit; you hardly ever answer my calls. Look ... if you don't want me bothering you anymore, then just say so, and I'll leave you alone. Is that what you want?"
Looking down at her fisted hands, she shook her head.
Jacob lowered his voice, regretting his outburst. "Sorry, I didn't mean to shout at you. But I miss you. The Taj is so empty without you in it."
He sighed, and clicked his tongue. "I hate to ask this, but did Paul say or do something that made you run from me that day?"
"No ... It's ..."
"It's what, honey?"
He stepped to the edge of the bed, and reached for her hand, but only managed to brush it lightly. Bella scuttled away at his touch, cowering back against the headboard of her bed. She pulled her knees up to her chin, with a look of sheer panic on her face.
Jacob tried once more to get close enough so he could console her, but again as soon as his warm hand got too near, she shuddered in fright.
His heart felt like it was being ripped from his chest. She was afraid of him—her best friend—her sweetheart? His voice slid around the lump in his throat. "Bells, please ... talk to me."
Her breathing accelerated, and he could literally smell her fear. This was worse than when the leech left her in the woods. At least then, she came to him for comfort and friendship. Now she was shaking in terror at the mere touch of his hand. More than ever, the wolf in him wanted a piece of that lousy tick. He did this to her. Jacob shrank back, feeling devastated.