Chapter Three: Taking Liberties

I am placed in an ambulance en route to the hospital, and something inside me sinks when I know that my father will be notified about this—small town, you know?—and that I will likely meet Edward's father, Dr. Cullen. The neck brace, as well as being strapped to a gurney, was a humiliating experience, and as we whizzed down the street to the hospital, I felt myself seething inside that Edward got to ride up front. Once we arrived, several EMT's came forward to haul me out of the ambulance, and I heard a siren entering the parking lot then, and my mouth fell open at the sight of my father dashing across the parking lot—ignoring the slickness of the ice upon its surface—and ran towards me.

"Dad, I'm fine," I managed to get out, wanting to take off the neck brace and throw it at the EMT's in a moment of frustration, as Edward smirked as he walked by. I grimaced as he leaned down, kissing my forehead as I was pushed into the hospital. I was permitted out of the gurney, as well as the neck brace, and as I perched on the bed, my father at my side, I bit my lower lip as I considered what happened.

"Bella? Are you hurt?"

I looked up, my dad staring anxiously at me. "It could've been worse..."

"Bella..."

I sighed. "Edward saved me," I replied, lowering my eyes, hunching my shoulders in a moment of self-consciousness. "It's crazy—I mean, I thought he hated me..."

The doors open behind us then, and as I look up, I see a striking man with blond hair and a kind expression on his face. "And this must be Isabella," he said, smiling at me before looking over at my father. "Charlie."

"Dr. Cullen," my dad said formally as Dr. Cullen came over to me and looked over my clipboard, pinned to the edge of my bed. "Well, the EMT's were pretty thorough with you, it seems, Isabella... You were very lucky."

"Bella," I said quietly.

He raised his eyes to mine for a moment before making some notes. "It says here that you told them that Edward saved you..."

I nodded. "Yeah—I guess manners can be deceiving," I say as he sets the clipboard aside and shines a light in my eyes to make sure I didn't have a concussion.

"How do you mean?"

"Well, he's rude, Dr. Cullen," I reply.

"Bella!" my father cried out.

"Dad, honesty is always the best policy," I reply through my teeth as Dr. Cullen puts away that light stick and purses his lips.

"Well, I'll have a word with my son—he can be a bit wary of strangers, unfortunately, and it sometimes gets the better of him."

"Please do," I reply. "We're lab partners in biology, and I would hate to have one that clearly hates me for no good reason."

Dr. Cullen looked unsure for a moment before looking at my clipboard again. "You said here that Edward was standing four cars away from you before the accident..."

I nodded. "Yeah. He was."

"...and then you go on to say that he pushed the truck away from you." Dr. Cullen smiled, almost as if he didn't want to get arrested for speaking ill of my account of the accident. "Bella, you do realize that such a thing is impossible, don't you?"

I smiled at him—after all, I was to think that the Cullen's were only human, but something was amiss here, and I was determined to figure out what it was. "Whatever you say, Dr. Cullen—you obviously know your family better than I do," I replied, my voice really saying, I'm not a complete idiot—there's some bullshit going on around here, and you may have the town fooled, but I'm not that easy, and whatever is going on here, I will find out what it is.

"Bella!" my father said again. "Please excuse her, Dr. Cullen—I think Bella must have hit her head during the accident..."

Dr. Cullen's eyes never left mine, but something seemed to shift inside him then, but it was so quick that I may have missed it. "Of course, Charlie," he said, looking quickly at my father with a tight smile. "Tell Bella to get plenty of rest, and have her take the rest of the week off school—I mean, we wouldn't want to have anything bad happening to her..."

"I'm fine," I said, my voice firm. "I don't have a concussion, Dr. Cullen, and you said yourself that I was very lucky. If you want me to stay away from your son, that's fine—if it were up to me, I wouldn't have anything to do with him anyway."

I narrow my eyes at him, getting to my feet and, mercifully, I do not fall onto the hospital floor, and I'm able to walk out of the recovery ward and into the hallway. As I do so, I can hear my father apologizing to Dr. Cullen on my behalf, and I roll my eyes—how dare he treat that family as if they were royalty, when they were merely royal pains in the ass! Looking down a hallway to make a quick escape from this glorified freak show, and see Edward talking to his sister, Rosalie Hale, whose blonde hair resembles a halo around her perfect face. She sees me first and narrows her eyes at me, causing Edward to turn around.

"Can we talk?" I ask, crossing my arms, and Rosalie lets out a quick noise of exasperation before stamping her foot and taking off in the opposite direction.

Edward gave an annoyed expression in Rosalie's direction before he turned around completely and walked over to me. "What do you want to talk about?"

I rolled my eyes. "Why you did what you did, god," I hissed at him, and, as he stared at me, he looked shocked at my declaration.

"I saved your life, and you're questioning it?" he demanded under his breath. "I mean, I think you should be thanking me, not demanding information or anything..."

I try to keep my temper with him. "Well, at least your dad knows my opinion of you," I reply, leaning up against the edge of the wall.

"You met my father?" he demanded.

I raised my eyes upwards, and they immediately locked to his. "Of course—at this very moment, my dad is attempting to appeal to his good side to clear my good name."

"Why would he need to do that?"

I crossed my arms. "Because I told him the truth—that you were suddenly next to me, and that, clearly, manners are deceiving."

"What does that mean?"

"What does that m—" I cut myself off deliberately, exasperation in my tone. "It means that you didn't owe me anything, Edward," I say, and his eyes soften temporarily when I use his name for the first time—his eyes were a brilliant topaz, not a color I commonly associated with human eyes, but I supposed that that too way part of the mystery. "It means that, clearly you dislike me for some reason, and now I'm going to feel guilty for someone who clearly hates me saved my life earlier today. How do you think that's supposed to make me feel?"

Edward's jaw sets then. "Jeez, Bella—you would think you'd be a little more grateful. If it weren't for me, Tyler's van would've flattened you—killed you, even."

"Then why didn't you just let it?" I ask him, my voice barely above a whisper. "Why wouldn't you have let his van squash me? You don't owe me anything..."

He shakes his head. "No, I don't. Maybe I'm masochistic or something..."

I scoff then. "That would explain a lot of things, now wouldn't it?" I say, my voice laced with sarcasm as I uncross my arms. "I don't understand you, Edward—if you hate me so much, why in the hell would you save my life?"

"I told you as much after the accident, Bella—I don't hate you."

I shake my head then. "Well, you've sure got a hell of a way of showing it otherwise," I reply. "I mean, you acted like my scent revolts you," I tell him, and I see him visibly stiffen at that, "and then you disappeared for a week. Then, suddenly, you're back at school, and you're acting all, I don't know, saccharine or something..."

Edward smirks slightly at that. "Saccharine?"

I nodded. "Exactly. I don't do well with about-faces, Edward—god knows I've had to deal with them before..."

Something flashes across his vision then, only to be replaced with his eyebrows knitting together in a moment of frustration. "Can't you just thank me and get over it?"

I blink in shock—I knew I'd already thanked him, but maybe the members of the Cullen family expected more than just one show of gratitude. "Thank you," I replied, my tone biting—the words had come unbidden from my lips; I'd wanted to make him work for it a bit more, due to his treatment of me.

"You're not going to let it go, are you?"

"No."

"In that case... I hope you enjoy disappointment."

Then, he was walking away from me, and I was left standing there like a total idiot, until I heard footsteps behind me. Turning, I saw Dr. Cullen taking off after Edward, and my father was just behind him. I scowled at him before turning away, and he awkwardly offered my raincoat to me, which I took and casually put on around me. As we walked towards the entrance of the hospital, I moaned inwardly as I saw the seas of faces, hoping to catch a glimpse of me—or, more likely, Edward—and to demand to know if we were all right. I spotted Mike, Jessica, and Eric among them, and, thankfully, I was led out of there by my father, and I felt annoyed at the prospect of getting into his police cruiser, but, nevertheless, did so.

"Your mom is expecting you to call..."

I whipped around to face my father then, unsure if I'd heard him correctly. "I'm sorry. What?" I asked—more like demanded, but I had been through a lot that day...

My father cleared his throat. "Sorry kid—I have to keep enough secrets on the job," he said, and made an attempt to keep his tone gentle, although I'm sure he was pretty pissed at how I'd acted in front of Dr. Cullen. "You call her when we get home."

"I have homework, and..." I trailed off. "It's in the truck—everything's in—"

"I'll pick up your truck, or I'll have someone from the station handle it," he said gently. "Just give me your keys when I drop you off."

"You're not staying?" I asked.

He hesitated for a moment. "Do you need me to?"

I shook my head. "No, it's fine," I replied. "I'll need your key to get in, though."

Once we arrived back at the house, I ripped the key from my father's hand and slammed the door of the police cruiser behind me. I was relieved when I heard him pulling out of the driveway as I made my way up the stairs, and was relieved when I didn't slip upon them. I made sure to hide the key underneath the mat so as he could get inside later, after I let myself in. Immediately, I trudged into the living room, where I picked up the landline and dialed my mother's cell phone number, the one she had made me swear to memorize in case of emergency.

"Bella!" she practically screamed on the other end of the phone, as soon as we'd managed to establish a connection. "Baby, please tell me you're okay!"

"I'm fine, Mom," I said, fighting to keep my tone from being clipped. "Really. Just a few scratches and bruises."

I'd had worse, big time.

She sighed on the other end of the phone—I knew she knew what I was thinking. "Bella, don't be like that with me, please. I want you to come home."

I sighed. "Mom, for one thing, you're in Florida," I said. "And for another, Phoenix is no longer my home. Besides, you know as well as I do that I can't go back."

"I know, honey—I'm sorry. I forgot for a minute," she said, sadness in the back of her voice. "I should remember these things, or at least learn to think before I speak..."

"Mom, it's okay," I say, leaning up against the wall. "There's a lot of that going on right now. I think I pretty much ruined Dad's reputation with the doctor's family out here..."

"What doctor?" she asked.

"Dr. Cullen," I replied. "Him and his wife have five kids that go to my school—three sons and two daughters... One of them is in my class...he saved my life today..."

"Saved your life?" my mother asked. "How do you mean?"

"He was standing right near me when it happened, thankfully," I say; I hated to lie, but I seemed easier than to just tell people that Edward Cullen had lifted a van off of me—it sounded near impossible to believe, even from me, who had the word "Honesty" tattooed onto her forehead, figuratively speaking, at least. "He saved me—he pushed me out of the way. If he hadn't," I go on, shaking my head, "let's just say I wouldn't be talking to you right now."

"Is he cute?" she asked.

"He's a jerk," I replied automatically, shuddering. "Doesn't matter anyway—I'm kind of turned off the whole dating thing, for obvious reasons."

"Of course," my mother replied, and I could almost see her admonishing herself for her words all over again. "I can understand that."

We chatted for a few more minutes, and thankfully my mother allowed me to get off the phone and rest, but if there was anything else I didn't want to do, it was rest. Instead, I decided to attempt to write an outline for my history essay, having decided to write about the Spanish Flu epidemic that had plagued America in the 1910's. I didn't know why I'd chosen it, and then it came to me—I didn't know much about that period of America, and it would permit me to think, as I did not want my mind to shut down completely.

I worked for a couple of hours, and then received an email from my father that someone from the station would be along to drop off my truck, along with my school supplies. They would leave the keys in the ignition, and then they would put my backpack on the porch. The officer arrived in good time, and I heard footsteps on the front stoop, and the telltale clunk of my backpack landing on the porch. Once I was sure the officer had left, I went downstairs to get my backpack, before heading into the kitchen to get something for lunch.

. . .

I managed to politely decline Mike's, Eric's, and Tyler's offers to the upcoming spring dance, because dancing had never been my thing, and the last time I'd gone somewhere with a boy, I'd ended up scarred completely for life. I did, however, suggest to Jessica and Angela that they go to the dance with Mike and Eric respectively, and even mentioned for Lauren to go with Tyler, as she seemed to have a crush on him. I kept quiet for most of the week, which was pretty easy to do, given that I wasn't in the mood to have any screaming matches with Edward Cullen—in fact, he was avoiding me, and I liked it better that way.

Winter had finally seemed to be on the verge of melting away, and February passed, and the notion that I was spending Valentine's Day as a single girl didn't faze me. As I focused on my ongoing assignments, I hardly noticed that Edward's demeanor had changed from completely stoic to that of curious—he seemed genuinely interested in the notion that I was content to ignore him, and it seemed to infuriate him at the same time. I didn't care, for it honestly didn't matter to me, and as March began, I became content to have him fade away into the background, although I knew that would never be possible for a guy like Edward Cullen.

"Jess and I need to go buy dresses for the dance," Angela said to me one day in the lunch line, and I actually bothered to listen, for I actually liked Angela, and though she seldom spoke, I always listened when she did.

"Where do you buy dresses in Forks?" I asked, and Angela smiled.

"You don't. We're going to Port Angeles."

Port Angeles was much larger than Forks was, and I knew immediately that I'd be able to finally find a bookstore for something to read. "Mind if I go?" I ask her. "I need to get some books to occupy our time..."

"Duh!" Jessica said, butting into our conversation as she whipped around. "We'll need your opinion on the dresses we buy, obviously!"

I smiled at Jessica—a forced smile, but I didn't think she'd be able to tell the difference. "Great, can't wait," I replied. "When do we leave?"

"Tomorrow night," Jessica replied.

"Will your dad mind?" Angela asked.

I shook my head. "No, he'll be cool with it," I replied, mentally making a note to make enough that night for dinner for leftovers the next day.

"So, what are you doing this weekend?" my father asked later that night over our dinner of spaghetti and meatballs—my grandmother's recipe.

"Jessica and Angela were wondering if I could go to Port Angeles with them tomorrow night," I said casually, knowing that the next day was a Tuesday, but I had already done most of my homework for the week over the weekend. "I know it's a school night, but I'm ahead in all my classes, and Jessica's going to be driving."

My father mulled it over for a moment. "Jessica and Angela seem like really nice girls," he replied, taking a bite of his dinner. "Go and have fun."

I smiled. "Thanks," I replied.

The following day after school, Jessica, Angela, and I got into Jessica's car and drove the hour between Forks and Port Angeles, looking for this "adorable little boutique" that Jessica pretty much insisted we shop at. I just smiled and nodded along with the conversation, not particularly caring, and instead was annoyed that I hadn't Googled bookstores in the area. I just decided to wait for a good opportunity to separate myself from the pair of them and go wandering around for a bookstore myself.

Once we arrived, Jessica was actually able to find the boutique she'd been referring to, and I followed the two of them into the store. After an hour of browsing, the two of them had managed to find affordable dresses in their sizes, and I casually excused myself, planning to rendezvous at an Italian restaurant they'd mentioned. Food, I could do; books, of course—but dress shopping? I mean, you could really count me out of it, I thought to myself as I walked down the street, passing a new age type bookshop, and ignoring the fact about what had happened the last time I'd been without protection after dark.

However, as the businesses became more and more sparse as I walked, I soon became confused, and found that I had no sense of direction in this sea port town. I decided to try another block, and I found that even that didn't work, and so I decided to turn around. However, I couldn't find the way back, as the streets looked very different in the darkness than they'd had in the light, and I felt myself growing uneasy. I knew I'd made a mistake when I passed a man, lurking in the shadows around me, and heard a series of footsteps behind me. Turning another corner, two other men suddenly appeared, and, quickly, I knew I was surrounded.

Not this, I thought to myself. No; not again...

. . .

"James, what are you—?"

"Chelsea's brother, Caleb, is away at college," James assured me, pulling me along the hallway at the back of the house. "Come on!"

"But where are we going?" I asked, following, albeit reluctantly. "Chelsea talked about the party guests not trespassing—"

"What Chelsea doesn't know won't hurt her," James replied, growing impatient as he opened a door at the end of the hallway. His words were slurred ever so slightly; I knew he'd been drinking, and while I hadn't touched anything, I was not wholly naïve here. "Come on, quick, before someone catches us!" He pulled me into what I presumed was Caleb's bedroom and slammed the door behind me, and immediately pulled me against him.

"James, what—?"

James's lips met mine in the darkness, forcing mine apart, his tongue searching my mouth to find mine, and although I kissed him back, something felt wrong. I struggled within his grip, but he pulled me closer and closer, managing to stick his tongue down my throat. He growled ever so slightly, shoving my back from him and pulling at my dress. "Get you out of this thing," he muttered to himself then.

"James, no..."

"Come on, Bella," he said, exasperated. "It's been over two years, for god's sake! Come on—it's time!"

"No, it's not," I said, pulling back and away from him.

"Look, you're dressed like a call girl," he said, and yanked me to him again. "Wake up—this is happening, whether you want it to or not!" he screamed, throwing me down onto the bed provided for us, and ripping at my clothes.

"No," I managed to get out as I was pushed face-down onto the bed, trying and failing to struggle out of his grip, becoming blinded by my tears. "James, don't! James, please! James, please, please, don't!" I yelled.

. . .

"Look at what we have here," said the apparent ring-leader of the men, stepping forward and smirking at his fellow comrades. He reached out then, attempting to cup my cheek; I could smell the alcohol on his breath, and it made my stomach roil.

"Don't touch me," I said, trying to sound tough, and cursing myself for leaving my pepper spray at home, beneath my bed.

"Oho, we've got a fighter," said the man. "Come on, honey—give us a look, will you?" he asked, and I jerked my face away from him. "Hey, sweet cheeks," he said, taking my chin firmly in his grasp, "I wasn't askin' you, I was tellin' you."

Then, a screech suddenly filled my ears and as I turned around, I felt my jaw drop as I saw Edward's silver Volvo come into view, and he practically flew from the car. He stalked towards the man, shoving him off me and glaring down at him. "Don't ever touch her," he growled through his teeth at him.

"Edward—?"

"Get in the car, now," he said, without looking at me.

I didn't need telling twice; I turned around then, running towards the passenger door and throwing it open, falling into the seat and strapping myself in. I locked my door behind me, and was, shockingly enough, relieved when Edward left the man in a heap on the ground and returned to his car. Getting inside, he slammed the door behind him and sped off, driving backwards into the night, and down an alley.

"I didn't need you," I said, not even bothering to thank him a second time.

"You have no idea what kinds of things—"

"Those thugs were thinking?" I demanded, finishing his thoughts for him. "Oh, believe me, Edward—I did. Take it from me," I said, settling back in the seat. "I knew."

"Take it from you?" he asked.

"Forget it," I replied. "How did you know where I was? Why would you save me a second time, Edward? Since you—"

"I don't hate you, Bella," he said through his teeth, spiraling out into traffic and gazing at the street ahead of him. "I can't explain why I knew where you were—I'm sorry, but I just can't do it—"

"Are you a psychic or something?" I asked him, and his eyes flashed to me. "I mean, do you have a GPS in your brain or...?"

He sighed. "Bella..."

"Look, I know you can't be human," I replied, and he tightened his grip upon his steering wheel, making his knuckles far whiter than his already alabaster skin. "So, are you a mermaid or something, or...?"

"No, I'm the creature that's been made popular on countless occasions by many authors out there, Bella," Edward said, his tone deathly serious. "I believe you may have even read some books about my fellow brothers and sisters..."

"A vampire?" I asked, the word falling from my lips—it was the most obvious one I could think of, and, given his body language, I knew I'd guessed right. "Wow. Suffice it to say I'm a little surprised..."

"How?"

"That someone so...gorgeous," I say, averting my eyes when I say that word, "would even think of saving someone like me..."

"And what's wrong with you?"

"Nothing, if you like plain humans," I reply.

Edward pulls his car into a parking space, removing his keys from the ignition and turning around to look at me. "Bella you're beautiful."

I raise my eyes to his. "Brilliant—so you're a vampire and a liar."

"I'm not a liar, Bella."

I felt myself inhale then at the seriousness in his voice, and I suddenly felt gratitude towards him for the very first time. Something awakened in me then, and I finally allowed myself to look at him for the first time, in an entirely new light. This beautiful man—erm, vampire—had saved my life not once, but twice; sure, he'd pretty much roped me into lying for him, but we all had secrets; well, we both did, anyway...

"I know," I said then.

"Bella..."

"Yes?"

He spread his hands. "What do you want to know?"

I sighed. "Now it's question time?"

He nodded. "Well..."

"Okay," I said. "You've got to give me some answers, then."

"This...protection," he said, gesturing in between us, "isn't something that I can just ignore anymore, Bella Swan."

"What does that mean?"

"It means I am now unable to stay away from you," he replied. "And, to be honest, I wanted to tell you for weeks that your draft of the Spanish Flu essay you're writing is fantastic. I could even give you an in-depth analysis..."

I blinked. "That's how long you've been like this?" I asked.

He nodded. "Yes, that's when my father found me. When Carlisle changed me, my biological father had already died, and my biological mother was able to follow suit. She begged him to help me, in whatever way he could, and, since he was lonely, he did."

I nodded. "I see."

"You have to understand, Bella, when I first met you, I couldn't take the scent coming from you, and I came off as mean because I knew, if I was kind, I would draw you in, and then I would have killed you. I've never wanted a human's blood so much, even though it's a dietary restriction my family and I follow religiously..."

"A...dietary restriction?" I ask.

"We're vegetarians—we only drink the blood of animals."

I blinked, wondering how in the hell a group of vampires had spun that one. "So, all of you are vampires, then? Not just you and your dad?"

Edward nodded. "All of us, yes."

I bit down hard on my lip then, wondering what in the hell kind of fantasy world I'd fallen into then, and lowered my eyes. "I think I would have been shocked, if you were nice to me... Let's just say that my ex-boyfriend and I didn't part on good terms."

"He didn't want you to move up here?" Edward guessed.

I scoffed. "He didn't have a choice—I moved up here because of him."

"What's his name?"

"James," I replied, omitting his last name deliberately.

"Why did you break up?"

I sighed. "Because he went to jail."

"Drug deal gone bad?" Edward guessed again. "He rob a place?"

I shook my head then, knowing that I had to give Edward something. "No. No, he went to jail because he beat me up."

"Bella!" Edward cried out.

I raised my eyes to his then. "That's why I didn't want you to touch me, that day you saved my life," I explained, "and why I didn't want those thugs to touch me. I'm not a very physical person, or, at least, I haven't been since James..."

Edward nodded. "I understand. I'm sorry you had to go through that." He looks as if he wants to touch me, but hesitates, so I reach out then, taking his hand, and I gasp then.

"Oh, my..."

"What is it, Bella?" he asks.

"Your hands are cold," I whisper, locking my eyes with his.

He nods. "Can't be helped, unfortunately."

I shake my head. "Normally, I hate the cold, but I think, for now, I can make an exception. I mean, you did save my life and all..."

"Twice," Edward put in.

I find myself staring into my eyes then. "I don't think why I'm saying this, but I... I actually trust you, Edward Cullen," I tell him, gently tightening my grip upon his hand. "I mean, you're not even human, but you've saved my life twice, and you don't want to kill me... I-I mean, you don't want to kill me anymore, do you?"

He shakes his head. "No. No, I think it would be extremely difficult to survive in a world where you don't exist, Miss Swan."

"What are you saying, Mr. Cullen?" I whisper, suddenly grasping at how very intimate this conversation was turning out to be.

"I'm saying you intrigue me, Bella."

"How could I possibly intrigue someone—a vampire—who is over a hundred years old?" I ask him, not even beginning to fathom it.

"Because, I can read minds," he replies simply. "I can read minds—and have been able to, for as long as I can remember—apart from yours."

"Apart from mine?"

He nods. "Yes. I can't explain it, but that must mean something... I don't know, maybe I'm overthinking it, but my need to protect you is the strongest affinity I've felt towards a human in over a century."

I laugh a little then. "I guess I never..."

"What?"

I shake my head. "I never thought I could be seen as special to someone—anyone—after what I went through with James," I tell him. "When you're in a relationship like that—I don't know, I almost can't explain it... They literally strip away your identity until you're left as this hollowed-out shell that depends upon them for survival..."

"Did it ever get that bad?" he asked.

I sighed. "Almost—he really pounded on me, right before he went to jail. That, combined with the evidence of the journal I kept of all the attacks, helped in the case."

"Has he been sentenced yet?"

I nodded. "Yes. My mom called me last week—he got a year."

"One year?!" Edward demanded.

I sighed. "Yes. His mother is an attorney and they have friends in high places. He got the year on the condition that the last three months be served under house arrest, and that he has to attend AA meetings and anger management courses."

"That's the system for you," Edward grumbled.

I nodded. "And yet, for the first time, I'm glad I moved to Forks."

Edward turned and looked at me. "You are?"

I nodded again. "Yes."

"And not just because of my feelings for you?"

I smiled. "Well, don't forget, I have feelings for you, too... I guess I never allowed myself to even think that someone like you..."

Edward smiled then, and I immediately stopped talking, awed by his beauty. "I hope that, one day, you'll let me in completely, Miss Swan."

I blinked then, knowing that the ball was in my corner, so to speak. I leaned forward then, before I could talk myself out of it, and kissed him lightly upon the lips before pulling back. "The day will come, Mr. Cullen. The day will come."