A/N - beta'd by mac who has a really cute nose and jkane180 who always smells like dryer sheets and sugar.
Facebook status: I have no fucking clue.
I sat in my truck across from Edward's house at the ass-crack of gloaming, which totally sounded like about four in the morning. It wasn't - I googled that shit, and Wiki said it's twilight. I needed a word for not-quite-morning, when a foreboding fog hangs thick in the air but there isn't enough light yet to see it.
My eyes fucking ached from crying, but I tapped a text message out on my phone, squinting through my swollen lids: I'm in your firmer. Come goat me.
Oh my god! Damn you auto correct!
I just asked Edward to goat me. That sounded dirty.
Really, all I wanted to do was sleep. It wasn't happening, though. My mind spun, unravelling reams of tape, memories like horror films I'd thought I'd forgotten. But repression only works for so long, especially when it's my fucking duty to remember the details... the minutiae of rape. There had been charts and forms and checklists, stamps and signatures with clauses to initial. Diagrams, timelines, and for the love of fuck why was there no rape kit? Questions fired and half-formed replies whispered shamefully.
What happened? Why did it happen? Did you try to stop it?
Yes, Officer, I did. I tried.
Every time?
No.
Why not?
Panic had seized my chest, squeezing my heart in an iron choke hold, when he'd asked that question. I'd looked at him, maybe giving him a poker face but probably not. More likely, I'd sobbed, but my memory wasn't lucid. I thought I'd seen a flicker of sympathy in his eyes.
Maybe he had a daughter?
I'd told him there was only so much fight in me. The things that were done to me didn't hurt if I didn't fight. The shame had been inevitable; the pain didn't have to be.
The officer had nodded, but I don't think he'd understood at all.
My phone buzzed, jerking me back into the present as the vibrations electrified my numb fingers. I checked my text messages, scratching my nose in tired confusion as the phone continued to shimmy like an oversexed vibrator.
Why wouldn't it stop? My body shuddered in kind, and I crawled over the centre console into the back of the truck. There were no seats, but the floor was carpeted and flat back there, leaving just enough space for me to sprawl out and sleep. Placing the phone on my stomach, I lay on my back, the intermittent buzzing soothing my sore belly. iPhone needed to create some sort of massage app because that shit would be awesome!
I closed my eyes, but the dark offered no relief.
After a few minutes I realized someone was calling me - over and over again. I unlocked the screen and slid the phone to my ear.
"Bella," Rosalie hissed. No, really, she sounded like a snake even though there were no S's in my name.
"Hey, buddy." So fucking tired. Christ, I'd trade my iPad for some decent sleep.
"Don't buddy me, you scunt. I will end you." Her cold voice coupled with that random threat sobered me a little.
"Uh, are you pissed at me, Rose?" I inquired dumbly. "Because honestly, I have no clue."
"No clue?" The timber in her voice rose to banshee level. "What the fuck, Bella? What did you say to Emmett?"
Oh, right. "I called him a douchenozzle," I explained. "Because if the nozzle fits, you must acquit . . . no, wait, that's not right at all-"
"You told him about Royce!" she screamed. "I told you that in confidence. Fuck . . . if he tells Alice, the entire world will know."
"Hold up." I yawned. I didn't mean to. "How is what he did to you worse than the guy you love thinking you're a ho bucket?"
"You know why."
Yeah, I did, but I wished to fuck I didn't.
"I know your secret too, remember. How would you feel if I told Edward?"
"He knows. I mean, I told him." I sat up, my phone vibrating in my hands. "Can you hold on a sec? I want to check my texts."
"You told him," she said slowly, and I wondered if she'd been drinking or taking opium. Not that anyone actually does opium anymore - it just kind of sounded cooler than pot. Whatever. She was all kinds of stoned on something.
"I told him," I confirmed. "Hey, do you know how I could get my hands on some opium? And also, do you smoke it?"
"Shut the fuck up." She inhaled loudly and sputtered out a cough. "What did he do? Did he flip?"
"His reaction was . . . reasonable, I suppose." Wait, what? I hadn't thought so at the time. When I'd found out he called Daddy I was livid. Now, that didn't seem fair. I mean, he only wanted to get help for me. Edward really loved me and shit.
Edward loves me.
I felt a tingling in my arms and chest. "Huh," I mused. "Either I'm having an epiphany or a heart attack. Should I be smelling burnt toast?"
"Probably not."
"Okay, then I'm fine." I smelled stale coffee on the upholstery but no burnt toast. That was like a sign of a stroke - a universal olfactory hallucination.
"Bella!" Rosalie screamed. "Emmett knows about Royce! He wants to talk to me."
"That's amazing!" I enthused, crawling back into the front seat. I peered out the dew-covered windshield and noticed the light in the front of the house was now illuminated.
"No," she seethed, "it's not."
Christ. This conversation was so Samuel Beckett it wasn't funny. "Do you love Emmett?"
"No," she said quickly. "I did . . . not so much now."
"See, that's bullshit," I said, because it looked and walked like a duck, as per the saying about ducks.
"He left me, Bella. I needed him so much, and he wouldn't even take my calls. Did you know he broke up with me on Facebook?"
"He wrote on your wall?" I gasped.
"Not even." She hiccuped. "He changed his status to single and unfriended me." A sob honked in my ear.
That was cold. Emmett needed to be nut punched for that shit.
"He left because you lied to him. What would he have done if you'd been honest?"
"He'd never look at me the same way. The taint, Bella . . . it never goes away. I- I couldn't stand him looking at me like that."
"Rose, I think I love you a little, so I'll be nice. You're a twat." The front door opened, and I could see Edward's red hair peeking out from under a hoodie, his sleep pants riding low on his hips. My lips curled into a smile, unbidden by me. "Emmett deserves the truth, and you obviously still love him."
"Listen, you bitch-"
"Can't talk now, but call me later. Oh, and call Emmett, like, now!" I hit the end call button while Rose was mid-scream.
I kicked the door in a fugue state as Edward approached the truck. A tension built in my jaw, and I wasn't sure if I needed to yawn or shriek. He opened the door for me and I jumped out.
All I really wanted to do was throw myself at him, but he stood stiffly in front of me looking twelve kinds of uncomfortable.
"Hi," Edward said awkwardly, dropping his hands beneath the elastic waistband of his pants. His fingers fidgeted below the material, and I wondered if he did that because he didn't have pockets. Maybe he wanted to touch himself while looking at me. That would be hot.
"Um, hi." I averted my eyes, praying to whatever random god frequented Forks that he couldn't read my mind.
"So . . . I'm here to goat you." He smirked, his upper lip rising crookedly.
"Cool, 'cause I've been waiting in your firmer."
"Bella . . . will you come inside?" His thumb popped out of his pants, and he fisted the material.
"Yeah, okay. What are you doing to your waistband, dude? It's kind of weird."
"Sorry," he muttered, quickly placing his hands on his hips. "I'm a little nervous, I guess."
"Me too," I admitted, following him along the path that led to his front porch. It was too dark tonight, barely a fingernail of moon lighting the sky. Edward offered me his hand, and I giggled as I took it because it had just been down the front of his pants. My feet never felt like they touched the ground after that. Even though we were only holding hands, somehow, he carried me.
Edward always carried me.
The house was quiet, seeming to amplify the sound of the door the door screaming too loudly on its hinges. He held it for me which was odd since it wasn't the kind of door that needed to be held open. Maybe he just wanted to keep his hands busy.
"So, we need to talk," I reminded him, keeping my voice as even as I could. He fidgeted with the lock while I waited by the foot of the stairs, unsure if we were going to his room or not.
I wanted to go to his room. That wasn't the best course of action, but I wanted it more than anything - more than justice or vengeance or even peace.
I finally knew what I wanted. Edward.
"I was so worried . . . Hey, why are you just standing there?"
"Uh, why are you just standing there?" I countered. Fuck me, I wanted to touch him. I took a clumsy step forward, reaching my hands toward his face. It occurred to me I probably looked like a zombie, or a Michael Jackson back-up dancer from the video Thriller, but I didn't care. Two more steps directed me into his arms, and I collapsed against his chest. "We need to talk," I told his pecs, and they seemed to flex in response.
"I know, pretty girl. Should we go to the living room?"
I shook my head, pressing my lips into his breastbone.
"The kitchen?" His breath hitched, his arms tightening around me.
"Your room, Edward."
"O-okay. My room." He sucked his bottom lip between his teeth as I stepped back. "I don't . . . I mean, I can control myself, it's just that-"
"I know," I said softly. "I don't want to have this conversation right now. Can we just go upstairs?" Whatever. I sounded pathetic, but the pain, the utter exhaustion of being me - I couldn't do it. "I can't do it," I whispered, the contents of my brain spilling out of my mouth. A sob bubbled up as I spewed thoughts like bile. "I can't do it without you. Please? Please? I'm so sorry. I tried to be strong and brave and good for you, but I can't." My legs shuddered, collapsing under the weight of my outburst, and I broke like a levee, a deluge of grief overtaking me.
On my knees now, I wrapped my arms around his legs. "Sometimes I feel like it's always night, like the morning will never come." Air burned through my throat, my chest constricting as I tried to breathe properly. "I'm so fucking lonely."
And then I couldn't speak. I couldn't even cry.
"Baby," Edward whispered tenderly, kneeling to gather me into his arms. "Don't you know how much I love you?" I wrapped my legs around his hips, my arms around his neck; he stood, lifting me with him. "You're not alone, pretty girl. I've got you." Hot breath grazed my ear, his lips soft and sweet on my cheek.
"What I said, you know before . . . I still mean it. We shouldn't be together until we're well enough to deal with our shit."
"Okay." He loosened his grip on me, so I tightened my hold on his neck.
"Don't let go."
"But you said-"
"I know what I said." I buried my face into his shoulder. "It's bullshit. I've never done what's right, and I'm sure as fuck not going to start now."
"So you're . . . what are you saying exactly?"
I nudged his chin with my forehead and placed an open-mouthed kiss on his neck. "I'm fucked up. You're fucked up. Let's be fucked up together." I had more to say, but Edward was suddenly very greedy with my mouth, his lips eagerly seeking mine out. I forgot what else I wanted to say anyway. How could I think? I couldn't, not with his tongue in my mouth, a constant moan creating vibrations in my nose.
No, I couldn't think, but I could finally breathe again.
"I love you," I managed to say between moans.
"I love you, Bella."
A/N - I texted myself "I'm in the driveway, come get me" until Auto Correct gave me something silly for this chapter of Tomato. I might have sent "I'm in the firmer, come goat me" by accident to my friend. What's weird is she replied with "okay, I'll goat you."
My outline calls for only one more chapter of Tomato but I'll be completing in two. I'll also be posting an outtake that I wrote for FSAA - it's an Eddie POV account from his therapy journal. Speaking of Eddie POVs, I'm contributing one of In the Shadow of Your Heart for the fandom4lls. To donate or contribute, please visit their blog on blogspot.
For the love of toast, please review me?