A/N: Major lemon warnings and scenes of sexual violence. If you're of a sensitive disposition, you may not want to read on.
Thank you AcrossTheSkyInStars for your excellent Beta skills. I adore you and your fic "Forgive me, please" It's criminal the lack of reviews you're getting!
My friend inside -the - disarray has entered the Age of Edward contest and her one shot "Letters from the sky" is so beautiful. Voting is open now and the link is on both our profiles. Please go and read it and vote; it really is lovely.
Lots of love and hugs to Malmo722, inside–the–disarray, into scrapes and AcrossTheSkyInStars.
Ch6 Hindered
I opened my eyes the next morning to find my entire left side numb. The floor was cold and hard and I had slept in the same position all night; with my back pressed against the bars, encircled in Edward's arms.
I wondered if he was still mad at me. I had been honest with him and he had been hurt. But how could he seriously believe I would bend to James's will and help break him? Edward had come to mean more to me than any other man since my father. I replayed in my mind the conversation and understood Edward's confusion. He had trusted his own father and he had died, leaving him; a young boy the sole provider for his mother and sister. Edward had then trusted Marcus and Marcus had used him, handing Edward over to a supernatural being without regret.
He had lived for over 100 years, alone. He had never been close enough to learn to trust another human. I didn't blame him for his anger.
I wanted to prove to him that he could trust me. I hated James and I had vowed to make him pay. I wanted that man to suffer and for it to be at my hand. And if I died in the process, it was a price worth paying for Edward's retribution. James had kept him locked away like an animal. Blackmailing him and torturing him for help Edward did not want to give. James was an evil man and no doubt his longing for whatever Edward could give would only lead to darkness and despair. I was glad Edward had superhuman willpower.
I fidgeted, feeling so uncomfortable. I had to move but didn't want to pull away from him. I felt like I was where I belonged.
Turning carefully so as to not dislodge the arm wrapped around me, I turned to face him. Edward's eyes were closed but I knew he was not asleep. He never slept, and I worried it was because my close proximity was taunting him.
I decided to back away but as I shifted his hold on me tightened, his eyes drifted open and held me as intimately as his arms did. The blackness was like an eternal pool; I could not separate his pupil from the iris. Its fathomless depths pulled me in closer.
"Don't go," he whispered.
"I was numb," I started to explain. Smiling he lifted his arm, and bending it at the elbow he placed it under his head like a pillow. He watched me as I got comfortable and before I knew what I was doing, I leant forward and pressed my lips to his cheek, just above his lip, close to his nose.
The bars hindered me from advancing any nearer, their cool metal digging into my own cheeks but I let my lips linger against his skin. I lifted my lids to gaze at him and noticed he had closed his again. The flutter of his long lashes swept along his upper cheek. It was the most simplest of images, a man with his eyes closed, but it hit me with a force which I had no strength against.
"Bella," he sighed, the scent of his breaths slipping past my face made me inhale deeply.
"I'm sorry," I whispered, "I know I have to see James today and I just needed to take a little piece of you with me."
Edward opened his eyes again, and slipping his hand through the bars he stroked my jaw with his thumb. His fingers hooked round the base of my neck, and tugging slightly he drew me closer. Angling his head he moved his mouth over mine.
With lips that were so soft I ached to sink into them, his kiss stole my breath away. But the bars once again prevented me from fully appreciating him.
His mouth opened slightly and mine followed, moving as he did. His tongue delved in gently and encountered my own whilst his lips toyed with me until I whimpered into him.
Gripping the back of my head, he tried to deepen his kiss but I felt the uncomfortable pressure of the bars digging into me. However, I had wanted this, craved it even, and I was not pulling away from him first. Instead, I pushed myself closer, my entire body crushed up against the barriers. I pushed my feet through and twined them round his legs just as he pushed his arm though and dipped his hand down to shamelessly cup my bottom. I shuddered as I felt heat infuse me.
Damn these bars.
I wanted more. I wanted to be lying atop him, to feel his arms around me and his hands all over me.
"Thank God for these bars," he sighed and I stopped kissing to pull away.
"I was just thinking the opposite," I admitted.
"Don't get me wrong, Bella, I'd love nothing more than to hold you, unhindered in my arms, but I also don't fully trust my willpower; these protect you."
"What if I don't want to be protected?"
Edward didn't answer; he just gazed at me with such longing I felt like tearing down the bars myself. I leant forward and kissed him again. His lips were unyielding at first but I kept mine moving, sucking on his bottom lip and tasting him with my tongue. Groaning he found my face through the bars and held me in the palm of his hands.
"I want you," I said softly as his lips left mine and trailed over my face to my closed eyes. He kissed my lids and along my brows, "I want only you."
Edward pulled away and returned his arms to his side of the bars. He sat up and faced me. I sat up too, slower than him, confused and hurt by his sudden removal.
"You want me?" He asked. His voice was husky and strained and in it I heard his desire. It was obvious then that he wanted me too, as a man wants a woman. I was sure this had nothing to do with my blood. Not this time.
I nodded.
"Show me," he instructed.
He wanted me to show him? I didn't know what else I could do to convince him that it was he I desired. I had told him which was brazen in itself. No self respecting woman ever spoke of such things, never mind display them, but then again I had not acted like a self respecting woman. I had acted like a whore and it wasn't even for the right man. If this was my opportunity to cleanse myself of the despicable acts of the other evening then I should take it.
I pushed myself up onto my knees and started to untie my bodice. I looked at my fingers and willed them to stop shaking. I was suddenly quite nervous, but most of all, I was excited.
"Look at me," he said softly.
I lifted my eyes and swept my gaze up over his bare feet and his ankles. I could see where the hair spread up over his calves and under the three quarter length pantaloons he was wearing. They were tight and hugged his body like a second skin; every inch of muscle in his legs all the way up to his quadriceps was visible through the fabric. I wanted to run my hands over those thighs and feel his strength in them.
My gaze paused on the bulge filling those trousers and Edward shifted slightly under my stare. As I watched his hips lift a little, baring more of the bulge to my sight, I pulled aside the ties that fastened my bodice and pushed my hands inside.
I eased the material down and off my shoulders. The air in the cells was cool, and as I exposed my bare breasts to Edward's gaze, I felt my nipples pucker.
His eyes widened as he watched my bodies reactions. I blushed and felt it infuse every bare inch of me.
"You're so beautiful," he whispered. "I love to see you blush, so pink, so alive."
He raised his hand and leant forward through the bars. His fingertips lightly brushed my skin and it electrified my very being. This lightest touch was so intense I was sure I had melted.
I watched Edward as he studied his own hand grazing my skin. My breathing became deeper and my chest heaved under his fingers. Pushing the other hand through the bars too, he cupped my breasts with both and flicked his thumbs across the top of my nipples.
He was cold, and my nipples sensitive, but it was the most sensual feeling I had ever experienced.
"I want to taste you," he said.
I froze, but Edward shook his head as he watched me. "You, Bella, not your blood. I want to taste you here." He dropped one hand down and pointed.
My skirts were bunched around my curled legs. I stood, and never taking my eyes of his I shifted my hips so they fell away from me and pooled at my feet.
I stood in front of him totally naked, utterly cold and wholly aroused.
I stepped out of the mass of material at my feet, and Edward reached back through the bars and caressed my leg. I looked down at him looking up at me.
On his knees he was exactly level with where I needed to feel him most. So close yet entirely divided by the cell bars.
"Lie down," he told me and I did, making sure I used my dress as a barrier between my bare bottom and the cold stone floor.
Edward gripped my ankles and pulled my legs through to his side. With 2 metal bars between my knees I was open to him, but not quite close enough.
He knelt between my legs and once again trailed his hands up and over them, beginning on the outside till he reached my hips.
"Closer," he instructed. I shifted my bottom till it was pressed up against the bars. Ignoring the cold, I leant back onto my elbows, not quite lying down. I wanted to see him.
Edward didn't move as I expected him too. He remained between my legs, skimming his hands over my inner thighs, just looking at me.
I should've felt embarrassed. I was thoroughly exposed to him but instead I felt eager, impatient for more of his touch.
"I need to touch you," he murmured. "I need to erase those images from my head." He closed his eyes. "I don't want to see him touching you, or inside you anymore. I can't bare it."
"Take it away, Edward. Take it all away from my mind too."
"Did you enjoy him?" He spoke softly, his question agonised him, or was he afraid of my answer?
"No," I replied. "Not him. I imagined it was you and somehow I was able to persevere."
"Did you enjoy it?" He changed his question.
I swallowed. I was afraid to reply but the truth be known, I had enjoyed it. The overwhelming pleasure that had flowed had been powerful, and I wondered what it would feel like to experience it all with the one who ignited all my passions.
"Edward, do you want me?" I changed the subject.
He nodded.
"Right now, is it me or my blood that you thirst?" I felt bold enough to be blunt.
"Look at you." He swept his eyes over my entire naked form. It was so intimate, I shivered. "Bella, I see you and smell your irresistible scent every day and every night and –" he closed his eyes and breathed deeply, "it's all I think about. All I ever think about anymore. The thirst for your touch is paramount to the thirst for your blood. I swear. You make me feel more alive and more of a man than I have ever felt. With you, that is all I am."
"What if you're not strong enough to resist?" I wasn't afraid, not really. If his animalistic side took over and Edward drank from me, I didn't care. But I knew his remorse would eat him alive. "You said yourself you were relieved the bars were between us. You may need more than you're happy to take."
"You're all I need," he said softly.
"Yes, a meal and a bed mate all in one." I regretted my words instantly. To joke like that with him was inexcusable. Edward was too fragile, his will power already stretched.
He started to move away and I felt desperate. "Edward." My voice sounded pitchy but I was so afraid I had pushed him away again. "Do you want me?"
He stopped and turned back to face me, his brows furrowed. His face filled with agony at my blatant disregard for his struggle.
Eventually he nodded.
I smiled at him. "Then show me," I repeated his words back to him. He moved towards me and slowly he knelt between my thighs. Lifting my foot he kissed my ankle, his eyes remained on mine. Lifting my leg higher he then kissed the tender spot behind my knee.
I shivered.
Placing my foot gently back on the floor he kissed the inside of my thigh.
"Edward," I sighed.
"Tell me," he breathed, "tell me what I do to you."
"You make me wet."
"Where?"
I shifted my weight onto one elbow as I lifted a hand and pointed.
"Here?" He asked as his fingers delved into my wet folds. I moaned, nodding my head I closed my eyes. My head dropped back.
"You smell so good," he mumbled, and as I raised my head to look back down at him he pressed his lips to my most sensitive spot.
For one fleeting moment I wondered if he was wrong and this would be too much for him; if his bloodlust would surpass his male desires and guiltily he would drink from the fluid in my veins instead.
But as the pleasure burned inside me those thoughts were forgotten and I edged even closer to the bars. Gripping them with my hands, I arched my back and shuffled closer still.
If he did bite, this was one hell of a way to go.
Breathing deeply now, I watched him as he tore his gaze from mine, and closing his eyes he moved his mouth over me as he had done earlier with his kiss. His tongue flicked out, and gasping I fell back onto the floor, no longer able to hold myself up.
The bars were torturous in both heightening my pleasure and my frustration. Whilst they kept us apart they also added to the moment. For Edward was unable to bury his face and tongue inside me like we both wanted, instead he could only lick and tease me, so tender and gentle, barely touching me. But it was perfect, and within a matter of moments I felt myself explode.
All of it – the passion, the pleasure, the pain – it all flowed through me, from the tips of my fingers to the ends of my toes and Edward drank it up like a man desperate to sate a thirst. All I could mumble was his name, over and over again.
I relaxed back onto the floor; releasing the bars and leaving my hands limp by my sides.
He didn't move away immediately, instead he stayed in position, his head resting against my thigh.
"I want more," he told me, and I watched as he stood and lifted his shirt over his head.
His chest was pale, but solid and taut. I followed their decline to below his trousers where he bulged hard, restricted against his confines. He began to unbutton his trousers and I stared in awe as he pushed them down and his cock sprang free.
It was long and hard and perfect, his balls looked tight and I imagined cupping them in my hands and taking him in my mouth as Rosalie had with James.
I pressed my finger into my wetness and slicked it around before slipping my finger inside.
Edward gripped his cock, and watching me he moaned.
I was still lying on the floor as he stood over me, stroking him-self, matching my movements; synchronicity.
The bars were our barricade; a metal obstruction hindering our desire to fill each other. I needed Edward inside me, I wanted to surround him and squeeze every last ounce of pleasure out of his member.
My finger started to move faster. I couldn't help it; the mere idea of him thrusting into me, grinding his hips so that he rocked against my core only aided me in touching myself just as I had in James's bathtub. Back then I had imagined Edward watching me, this time he truly was and it only made everything feel so much better.
I was behaving like the slut James had called me. I wanted Edward. I would do whatever he desired me to do and I would love it all.
Edward's hand started to move faster, pumping along his length, spreading his legs slightly he held onto the bars with one hand. We never took our eyes of each other; masturbating whilst taking immense satisfaction in the other's reactions.
It was the most secret demonstration a man and a woman could share and I smiled at him, content it was him watching me.
Edward groaned, and whispering my name he fell to his knees; with one last grunt he released his seed onto the floor.
I followed soon after, the throb of my orgasm taking hold. Unable to help myself, I almost shouted as it rocked over me. Throwing my head back, I called his name. I knew he liked it when I said his name.
I lay still for a while, listening to the sound of my breathing, feeling my heart thumping wildly in my chest. I felt movement and opening my eyes I turned to look into his cell. Edward was sat by my feet, his head resting on the bars, his legs curled next to him.
He smiled, and in that moment all of his angst and despair was momentarily gone, erased from his features and I laughed at his boyish charm. He looked so young to me.
I felt the blood rushing back to my limbs and realised I was also cold and stiff. "Edward," I complained. The bars had left dents in my thighs. "I need to move."
He sprang to his feet and carefully eased my legs back through the bars. Sitting up I tugged my dress from beneath me. I pulled it over my head and fastened the bodice. I felt instantly warmer.
Edward rested back against the bars, naked and unashamed. I scooted closer and pushed my hand through to lay it atop his. Like him, I rested my head on the bars and we sat in comfortable silence.
"Edward, have you ever tasted human blood?" I eventually asked him.
He turned his head slightly to peer at me. "Yes, in the beginning, a very long time ago," then lowering his eyes he continued, "but more recently too."
"Recently?"
He didn't reply. Instead he stood and dressed, keeping his eyes averted from mine, and I knew the tortured Edward was back. It hurt him so much to talk to me about his lifestyle. Didn't he know by now that I didn't judge him?
"What happened?"
The echo of a door banging in the distance alerted us to a visitor. Edward cocked his head briefly then turning to me he bent and gripped my hand. "Bella today meant everything to me."
"Me too," I agreed.
"Take the memory of it with you. I hope it helps you as much as it helps me."
"What is it?" I looked at him and then over at the corridor entrance. The footsteps were getting closer but I couldn't see who it was yet. The look on Edward's face told me it was time for me to go to James.
As Crowley entered the doorway and approached my cell, Edward stared at me intently.
"I wish I knew what you were thinking," he whispered.
"You can read minds, Edward. Read mine," I joked.
He shook his head. "I can't. Not with you."
"Sorry to break up this happy little meeting but you have an appointment." Crowley entered my cell and walked towards me.
As I stood I felt my tummy rumble and hoped, selfishly, that food would be provided again. Turning to Crowley I asked, "Will Edward eat today?"
Crowley laughed. "Well that all depends on you and the Captain now, doesn't it?"
Grabbing my arm he pulled me through the unlocked door and towards the corridor. I looked back at Edward standing in the centre of his cell, his head bowed, unable to watch me leave.
I shrugged Crowley's hand off my arm and raced back to the bars, pushing my hand through I held it out towards him. Looking up at me he stepped forward, and lifting his own arm he gently touched his fingertips to mine.
"I was thinking about you," I told him. "I am always thinking about you."
Before he could respond, Crowley grabbed my arm again and dragged me down the corridor and away from Edward.
Xxxxx
James had provided well for my arrival. The room was cast in candle light, the tub already full with sweet smelling salts and hot steamy water. The bed covers were thrown back, inviting me in.
Across the room a small table was set for one with a food platter placed in its centre. It was filled with fruits and bread and cheese and it all looked mouth watering. Next to the plate was a pitcher. Its contents obviously chilled as condensation trickled down the outside.
I stood just inside the room and listened as Crowley closed and locked the door behind me.
I didn't know how long I had until James arrived, but I remembered his instructions; to be bathed and ready for him. I didn't want to do anything he requested or commanded but he also scared me. I didn't want to feel his Wrath.
I was too hungry to bathe first so I sat and ate. I didn't relish the food as I was frantic about being caught unready. Taking out the small bag of potion Mary Alice had given me, I placed it on the table, ready for later.
Leaving the pitcher untouched, I undressed and made my way to the bathroom. Like the bedroom, it too was lit by candles, its golden shimmer dancing off the walls and casting a glow. In other circumstances it would have been considered romantic.
I didn't want to dwell in the tub either, but the water felt divine; warming me and helping to relax my aching muscles. I noticed on the inside of my thighs a long line of darker skin. It felt tender and I recognised the beginning of bruises from the cell bars.
I heard a key in the lock and the bedroom door opened and closed again. No one spoke and I knew James had arrived.
I left the tub, draped the robe around me and walked back into the bedroom.
But it wasn't James, it was Rosalie. She stood swaying in the centre of the room, gazing down at her feet. She didn't look up as I hovered in the bathroom doorway.
Unlike the last time I had seen her, Rosalie was filthy. Her feet were bare and covered in mud. Cuts and scratches adorned every inch of her bare flesh. There wasn't much blood but she still looked terrible. Her hair was knotted and dirty and full of twigs and leaves. It was unpinned, and framed her face and shoulders in a frizzy mess.
Her face was streaked with dirt, with lines down her cheeks from the residue of tears.
"Rosalie?" I stepped forward, scared but unsure why.
She glanced up at me and swayed again. Something clanked to the floor beside her and I looked to see an empty cider bottle roll around and stop in front of her toes. Her arms stayed at her sides.
"Rosalie," I said again, "it's me, Isabella." She tilted her head and steadied herself by moving her feet slightly. She was drunk.
I walked over to her and took her hands in mine. I noticed her nails were broken and dirt was ingrained beneath their surface almost as if she had been digging with her bare hands.
I pulled her towards to the bed and eased her down. I wasn't sure how long she could remain standing for.
"Isshabella?" She mumbled.
I nodded. "Rosalie, what happened?"
She looked down at her hands and pulled them free of mine. She studied them for a moment and then tentatively with her index finger she stroked the third finger on her left hand.
"I wass looking for him," She slurred and swaying again she looked back up at me. Fresh tears poured from her eyes and it made me want to cry with her.
"Who were you looking for?"
Rosalie let her head fall back and instead of replying she just wailed. The sound was agonised, and gripping the bed clothes she sobbed, shaking her head and muttering incoherent words. I could say nothing to soothe her.
Letting go of the covers she fell back onto the bed and finally her sobbing ceased. She sniffed and rubbed at her eyes, wiping her nose with her sleeve.
"Rosalie, come with me, let's get you cleaned up." I took her hand and pulled her into a sitting position, she let me hook my arm around her waist, and standing I walked her over to the bathroom.
The tub was still full. I tested it with my hand and it felt quite warm, not that a drunken Rosalie would really notice the temperature. I helped her undress and steadied her as she slid into the water. I sat behind her and tugged free the twigs and leaves and when I wasdone I took the cake of soap and rubbed it on her head to wash her hair.
Rosalie continued to cry; silent tears rolling down her face and pooling in her collarbone. I finished with her hair and rubbed at the streaks of dirt on her cheeks. Eventually she was clean, and looking up at me I noticed her eyes were more focused too.
I helped her out of the tub but there were no towels or other robes for her to use.
"Wait here," I told her as I went back into the bedroom and found at the foot of the bed a simple, white nightgown. I put it on. It fell to just above my knee and hardly covered my modesty at all, but I didn't worry about it. I hurried back to Rosalie and swamped her in the robe, then lead her back into the bedroom. She sat on the edge of the bed again and watched me as I placed some food on the plate and brought it to her.
She shook her head. "Not hungry."
"Please," I begged her but she pushed my hand away.
"What's that?" She pointed at the pitcher on the table and I shrugged. "Water I think."
As Rosalie stood and made her way unsteadily over to the table, the robe slipped off her shoulders and onto the floor.
She dipped her finger into the jug and sucked on it. She broke into a smile. "Wine."
"Rosalie, I think you've had enough." I tried to take the jug off her but she spun away, spilling some its contents down her breast as well as the floor.
She lifted the jug away and watched in awe as a single line of red wine drizzled down her body.
"Looksh like blood," she muttered and took a long gulp from the jug.
I decided to ignore the wine and question her again. "Rosalie, who were you looking for?"
She dropped the jug away from her lips and looked over at me, her eyes became sad again, and swaying she stumbled slightly before sitting down on the floor. I picked up the robe and placed it around her shoulders then sat on the floor beside her.
"My husband," she whispered. I was relieved to hear her sound more coherent.
"Where is he?"
She placed the jug on the floor but kept hold of it. Looking up at me she said, "He's dead."
"Dead?"
She nodded, fresh tears falling down her face.
"Then why were you looking for him?"
"Because he promised me."
"Promised you what?"
"He promised me he would see me again." She wiped her tears with the back of her hand and sniffed.
"But Rosalie, if he's dead –" I trailed off, unsure how to continue this conversation. She was grieving and didn't need my pessimistic words.
"Sometimes I feel it," she clenched her fist and held it to her heart, "I feel him, in here, Isabella. Like he's with me, all the time, watching me, only –" she shook her head, "– only I can't find him."
I reached out for her hand.
"Have you ever been in love, Isabella?"
Without hesitation I nodded. "Yes. I am."
She looked up at me. "You're in love now?"
I nodded.
"Oh, you're so lucky."
I didn't reply.
"Emmett was my first and only love. I'm so lost without him."
"No," I disagreed but what was the use? I didn't know her or what she had gone through. Her loss meant nothing to me, not really. But then I thought of Edward. He was not my husband, but I would ache if he was taken from me. I hadn't lied when I said I was in love. Edward was my love. After this morning's events I knew deep in my heart that he was the keeper of my soul.
She nodded her head, exaggerated by the alcohol. "I'm glad he can't see me," she mumbled. "Emmett would be so mad. I let him down."
"Rosalie, I'm sure that's not true."
"I gave away our daughter."
I didn't know what to say.
"I couldn't cope. If it wasn't for James –"
"James?" I asked. The mention of his name made me angry.
"He was there when it happened and he told me –" her tears flowed unabashed, "he told me everything and then he helped me when it all started to fall apart."
"How did he help you?" I shouldn't judge him, not really. She seemed so sincere in her gratitude.
"I couldn't look after Ava and so he found her a new family, he took me in and gave me a room. In return I am his – companion."
"Companion?" I practically spat the words.
Rosalie smiled. "He's gentle sometimes. And when he is it reminds me of Emmett."
I let go of her hand and watched as she swirled her finger across the top of the wine, no longer drinking it, just making ripples break the surface.
"Where did you go tonight, Rosalie?"
"To the woods."
"Why?"
"I told you, to look for him."
"Why were your hands so dirty?"
She lifted her hands in front of her face and studied them. "Dirty?"
"Yes," I replied, "they're clean now but before, when you came in they were dirty."
"I was digging."
"Digging?" I felt like a moron repeating her words back to her but she wasn't making any sense.
She nodded. "Yes, I was digging."
"Rosalie, why were you digging?"
"Because that's where they buried Emmett."
"Oh Rosalie," I mumbled, edging closer to her and taking her hand. Laying her head against my shoulder she sobbed.
"What happened to him?"
"He was a lieutenant in James's guard. They went to make an arrest, I think. But they were attacked. Emmett was stabbed. He didn't survive."
I held her hand and listened.
"James came back and told me. They caught the – animal – and imprisoned him but that didn't matter to me. I wanted him to suffer and James told me he did. All I could think about was my darling Emmett. I wanted to see his body, to say goodbye but they'd buried him."
Rosalie pulled her hand free of mine and buried her face in them. "They left him out there to rot. My baby, he's all alone out there and he hated being alone. I wanted to bring him home, Isabella. I wanted to bring him home."
I cried silent tears as Rosalie sobbed.
"I'm nothing without him."
"What about your daughter?"
"Ava," Rosalie hiccupped, "she's so beautiful. She looks just like her daddy." She lifted her head and smiled at me. "She has dimples."
I smiled back. Reaching into her pocket she pulled out a small brown case and handed it to me. Inside was a mini portrait painted on enamel. It held the face of a dark haired cherub; her cheeks full and dimpled, her smile wide and pretty.
"She's adorable," I told Rosalie, handing back the case. Opening it again, she ran her finger over the face of her daughter.
"Ava," she whispered, "will you ever forgive me?"
Behind us the key clicked in the lock. Rosalie rubbed at her face and we both turned to face the door.
James walked in and he didn't look happy.
"What are you doing?" He demanded.
"I'm sorry Sir," Rosalie responded first.
"I told you to get her ready for me!"
"I know. I'm sorry."
James walked across the room and gripping Rosalie by the hair he dragged her to her feet.
"Leave her alone!" I shouted, jumping up. I started to beat him with my fists but he was stronger than both of us. Swinging his arm he shoved me away. Stumbling backwards I hit the bureau and landed on my backside. James wrapped his hands around Rosalie's neck and lifted her till her feet left the floor.
"Crowley told me you were late. Why?"
"Emmett," she squeaked from beneath his grip.
"Have you been rolling around in the dirt again? Hmm? You keep insisting on looking for that useless lump, shall I just kill you now and throw you in the ground with him? Is that what you want? You stupid fucking bitch!"
I clumsily got to my feet and lunged at his back again. I managed to get my hand on his face and clawed at him so hard I felt the skin imbedded in my nails. James dropped Rosalie, and turning to me he punched me in the jaw. I fell back and hit the chair this time, winding me as I crashed to the floor.
Rosalie was bent over, holding her throat and gasping for air. James lifted her head by the back of her hair and slapped her. The force of it was so hard Rosalie hit the bed and didn't move.
I watched terrified as he stalked towards me.
"I'll make you pay for that!" He yelled at me, fingering his bloody cheek.
Turning onto all fours I tried to scramble away from him but he was faster than me. I felt splinters from the chair scratch at my hands as I aimlessly scurried towards the door. All my modesty forgotten as my legs flailed about and lifted the short gown I was wearing even higher.
I felt him grip my leg and pull me backwards. Instinctively I kicked out and connected with his nose. But it didn't stop him. I fell flat to the floor as his body weight thumped on top of me.
"I like it rough. Do you?"
He pushed my face into the cold hard stone and fumbled at his belt. The gown had ridden up and I could feel him pressed against my bare bottom.
"Stop, please stop," I begged him.
I felt his weight shift off me and only cold air touched my skin. At first I was too afraid to move but as the minutes ticked by, I eventually turned to find him sat on the floor with his back against the bed.
I didn't speak, just tried to cover myself. Rosalie lay still on the bed.
"Thank you," I whispered. I wasn't sure they were the right words to say, but I wanted him to know I was grateful that he hadn't persisted.
"I'm not a monster, Isabella."
I didn't reply. I didn't agree.
I touched my jaw tentatively and winced. The skin felt hot and tight and I knew it would be black and blue by morning.
"Here." James stood and went into the bathroom. He came back with a wet cloth and sitting beside me he pressed it to my face. I flinched, not from the pain but from his touch.
"I'm trying to help," he stated.
"It hurts because of you," I pointed out.
"You're wrong," he argued, "it hurts because of you."
I looked at him but decided it best if I said nothing else.
"You fought with me Isabella. You should've minded your own business and I wouldn't have had to teach you a lesson."
I tried to take the cloth from his hand but he slapped mine away. "Sit still."
I bowed my head and he snapped at me again. "Lift your chin, God Damn it! How am I supposed to help if you keep fighting me?"
"I'm sorry," I said softly. "Did you really bury her husband in the woods?"
"Yes."
"It upset her."
"Obviously," he said matter of fact. "It was best."
"Best for whom? She needed to say Goodbye."
"There wasn't much left to bring home, Isabella." I flinched at his words.
"Who was it that killed him?"
James dropped his hand and stood. He walked over to the jug of the wine still sitting on the floor. He took a swig and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
"She said the murderer was in prison but there's no one in those cells now except me and Edward. She said –"
"Edward?"
I turned to see Rosalie sitting up on the bed, her hand stroking her cheek and her eyes wide in shock.
"Edward's in the cells?"
I didn't move.
"Answer me!" She flung herself at my feet. "Is Edward Cullen in the cells?"
I looked up at James and then back at Rosalie. She looked wild.
"Answer her, Isabella." He smirked.
But before I could she jumped to her feet and launched herself at him. Hammering on his chest she screamed, "You told me he had died. You told me you had killed him. That you made him pay for what he'd done!"
Calmly taking hold of her wrists he stopped her onslaught.
"What's she talking about?" I whispered.
"He told me Edward was punished!" She spat, turning her head to face me.
"Why would Edward need to be punished?"
"Because he killed my husband!"
"No!" I shouted back. "That's not true, that can't be true, Edward would never –"
James released Rosalie's hand and watched with a satisfied grin as she turned her attack on me.
"How would you know what he's capable of?"
I backed away from her.
"Is he the one you love?" She asked me, shocked.
"Love?" James mocked. "You're in love with the Vampire?"
I watched in horror as they both descended on me, laughing at my pain. It couldn't be true. Edward can't have killed Emmett.
Edward, have you ever tasted human blood?
Yes in the beginning a very long time ago, but more recently too
It can't be true.
"You said Emmett was stabbed." I pointed at Rosalie.
"He was, after he was bitten!" James taunted.
"What?" Rosalie asked him.
"He had to be killed, Rosalie, surely you can see that's what was best?"
She shook her head. "No."
"Think about it, he would've turned into a blood sucking leech. Do you really want that to come home to your daughter? You're beautiful little Ava?"
"Ava," Rosalie cried.
"Come here," he beckoned her and she did. Encircling her in his arms he handed her the jug of wine. "Now, be a good girl and get me some food."
Clutching the wine to her chest she walked over to the table and set some bread and cheese on a plate for James.
"What's this?" She suddenly asked and I looked to see her holding up Mary Alice's potion bag. James walked over to her and taking the bag from her hand he opened it and sniffed.
"What is this?" He glanced from me to Rosalie and back again. "Isabella?"
I backed up some more and connected with the wall. James emptied some of the contents into his hand and touched his tongue to it.
"Isabella, I asked you a question."
I shook my head, unable to speak.
"Do you need potions to be with me?" He genuinely looked hurt for a moment then it crumbled and turned to rage.
Throwing the bag down, he grabbed at my neck and pushed me hard against the wall.
"Answer me!"
I tried to speak but his hand was crushing my larynx. I couldn't even swallow. I felt my eyes start to bulge and frantically I clawed at his hands, trying desperately to release his hold.
"Rosalie!" He yelled. "I need to release."
I saw from my peripheral Rosalie kneeling and as he held me by the throat she unbuttoned his trousers and took out his cock.
"You're already hard," she murmured as she took him in her mouth.
"All of it," he commanded, never taking his eyes of me.
I tried to swallow past his fingers but his grip tightened. I squeezed my eyes shut, sickened and unable to watch as he opened his mouth and groaned. His own eyes were hooded as Rosalie worked her mouth and tongue over and around his length.
"Are you going to come for me?" She teased him and he hissed, spittle hitting my face as he did so.
"Isabella," he murmured, "look at me!"
I opened my eyes but everything was blurry from my tears. His grip was tight but I could just about breathe. My mouth was full of saliva as I was unable to swallow. I kept my hands on his in the hope that he would let go and not strangle me.
"Argh!" He called out. "Fucking suck it, bitch!"
And she did.
I could hear the gulps and moans as he rocked against her mouth and just when I felt blackness descend over me, dizzy from the restricted air supply, he let go of my throat and gripped her head instead.
I fell to the floor just as he stopped thrusting, and grunting like an animal he came in her mouth.
"You don't need potions do you, Rosalie?" He panted. "You love it!"
I lay on the floor panting and gasping for air. I felt nauseated and wanted to vomit but had no energy to move. Suddenly hands gripped me and he lifted me from the floor. Storming towards the door he half carried and half dragged me back to the cells.
I closed my eyes and wanted to fall into unconsciousness but sooner than I thought possible, we reached the cells.
My cell door was unlocked, from when Crowley had fetched me earlier. Without hesitation James flung me inside then walked over to the far wall, and pulling a lever he released chains and cuffs which were hanging from the ceiling.
Picking me up, like I weighed nothing, he pressed the cuffs to my wrists and locked them. When he stepped away, I was left suspended by my hands on the end of two long chains.
"So, you need help to be with me?"
I let my head drop forward. I didn't have the energy to fight anymore. Peeking out from under my hair I looked over at Edward's cell.
It was empty.
"Where is he?" I asked, suddenly afraid. What had he done to him?
"Edward is no concern of yours Isabella. What is your concern is how the hell you're going to make it through the next few days, alive."
Taking out a blade he cut the gown I wore from neck to hem; the flimsy material fell to the floor and I was naked.
"I've had enough of you. I think it's time my men were rewarded for their loyalty to me. So each one of my men will come in here and they will fuck you till they're satisfied."
I looked at him, my eyes wide my mouth agape.
"No," I shook my head. "Please, don't –"
"I have tried to be nice to you, Isabella and yet you betray me! If seeing you bleed doesn't get his thirst going, then maybe the answer is in his anger."
"What do you want from him?" I screamed.
"I want him to bite me like he did Emmett. I want him to help me create an unstoppable army and then I will always defeat the enemy." James's eyes were wild and his lips tight as he spat at me. "Edward Cullen will turn me and my men and then he will guide me; advise me with his gift. I will overturn the King and his throne and I will, in time, rule all." As he spoke he poked his finger in my face. He looked deranged.
"You're crazy!"
"Perhaps," he chuckled, "but I'm also very ,very dangerous."
"Edward didn't kill Emmett, I don't believe that. And he won't help you!"
"I was there Isabella, I saw him drink from his veins and when he was done, he was happy."
I shook my head.
"Ask him, then. Ask him when he comes back the name of his last victim." Turning away from me, he walked to the cell doors but left it open.
"There's really no point locking you in, you can't get out of those, and besides," he chuckled, "it's more welcoming for your visitors."
I watched him leave, and when I was sure he'd gone, I started to cry.