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Chapter Twelve: Paul Has Rabies
The silent fuming I'd done all morning at work gave way to a contemplative silence, one that I was happy Mike respected, for the most part. He'd attempted to engage me in several bouts of small talk, but my non-committed answers and distracted grunts seemed to finally give him the hint, and I'd retired to kneeling in a far-off corner of the store, to make a ritual out of arranging and noting down the various types of hiking boots we carried. But I couldn't stop wondering about Embry.
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How dare he look at me like he knows everything.
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Who the hell does he think he is? Was it a trick? Some kind of experiment to keep himself occupied?
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Was it for my own good? Or is he still mad at me and trying to piss me off?
Lately, things had been strained between us in a way I wasn't used to. We'd never been close, in either versions of reality, but it surprised me how his behaviour had made me feel. Being friends with Quil and Embry had been effortless, something I almost took for granted because as long as I had Jake, I had them. Embry and I had this quiet understanding that ensured he always backed me up in a squabble and I always joked that I'd run off with him the moment Jake's back was turned. Every memory I had of him was a pleasant one, from jokes and light-hearted scuffles to prank calling the Elders. It was silly, and juvenile, but I missed it. It was something I never thought I'd lose, just like I hadn't thought I'd lose Jacob. But I didn't have Jake anymore, so where did that leave him?
It felt like one-by-one, each relationship in my life was eroding or re-forming, and I wasn't sure what to do about any of it. A lot of the blame was laid at my feet – I knew I'd been 'impossible', as he'd delicately put it earlier – but didn't I have a right to be a little grumpy? Not only had I let my heart get broken, but I'd since found out that I'd willingly given up an eternity with someone I had truly loved, thinking I was making the right choice to be with another, but only to find that I'd end up alone. Charlie was still the only thing in this world convincing me I'd done the right thing. Jacob never wanted to fall victim to imprinting. Did that mean that I'd inflicted this upon him?
I sighed as I stretched out my legs in front of me. I needed to stop this, stop harbouring the blame for things that weren't entirely my fault. Embry seemed to be of the opinion that I should suck it up, move on and really fall for someone again. It was easy for him to say; what did he know about watching the person you love and care for focus all their attentions on someone just like you, with a few differences? It wasn't my fault I was born to my parents. It wasn't my fault that whatever part of my family tree that decided I wasn't meant for Jacob had denied me of everything I wanted. Out of anyone, Embry should know what it means to be unable to help the circumstances of your birth.
But no, there he was, practically shoving me out of my perfectly adequate, slightly bitter comfort zone to a place I wasn't ready for yet, and making me feel bad about not being there. I focused on my distaste for him and his theories and his judgement, and ignored the niggling part of me that told me he was looking out for me, and the reason he'd been so aggressive in his questions this morning was to distract me from my crippling fear that Victoria was around every corner.
The thoughts were still running a rampant circle in my head when the time came to clock off for the day. The dread I had about seeing Embry again, and not being sure how to handle his cross of Obi-Wan and Dear Abby ebbed away when I caught sight of Angela, jogging past Newtons with her earphones in. I saw my chance and struck.
"Ang! Hey!" I called, waving my arms fruitlessly as I approached her. It was pointless. She was lost in some sort of fitness trance, and I hadn't even been aware she owned a pair of running shoes.
I picked up my pace to reach her, inevitably finding something large – or microscopic - enough to trip over and hurling unstoppably into her back. She screeched loudly as we both fell to the ground, and I promptly launched into a barrage of apologies as I helped her back to her feet. I tried to ignore the snort of laughter I heard coming from the other side of my parked truck, I really did, but I couldn't help shooting a glare in his direction. Embry could go suck it if he thought I was willingly spending any more time near him and his little observations today.
"It's fine, Bella, really. My mom's always telling me I shouldn't have the volume up so loud anyway," she soothed, but the burning in my face was far from sated.
"Um, let me buy you a coffee? My treat. It's the least I can do for almost spraining something vital," I replied, forcing a smile. I just wanted her to be my way out of the inevitable truck drive home. Angela smiled and shrugged.
"Sure, I mean, if it would ease your conscience," she said, eyeing me speculatively. I couldn't help the triumphant smirk I shot Embry's way. Hopefully his shift would be over by the time we were done, and I could prepare some real answers before seeing him again. I didn't know what the hell it was about this morning that got my back up so much, but I couldn't shake the feeling off.
"It would. Come on, let's walk," I suggested giving her an encouraging smile.
"Are you alright Bella? You seem... different," she observed, and I could tell that the ever-polite Angela was holding something back.
"Uh, yeah, I'm fine," I hedged, my eyes scanning the near-empty street warily. I suddenly realised it might not have been the best idea to ditch the wolf just because talking to him was making me uncomfortable. I looked back to her again, frowning slightly. "What do you mean?"
She avoided my gaze expertly, wrapping the wires of her headphones around her ipod and securing them. A shrug came before she answered. "Last time we hung out you were... kinda..."
"Bitchy?" I finished, cringing as a memory of my bored and uninterested tone filtered back into my memory. "Yeah, sorry about that. I'm trying to crawl back out of that place. Reserving my acid tongue for the male species these days," I smiled. She returned it with a sigh of relief.
"Happy to hear that, Bella. It seemed like just as we were getting you back you got knocked right back down again." A concerned crease appeared between her brows. "I hate to see you have to go through all of this, really."
The outpouring of sentiment in her eyes made me look away, and I realised that Angela was the first person in my life – apart from Leah, that is - to treat me like I actually had a right to feel angry, or that it was okay to not be over everything yet. She didn't know the whole story, of course, but I knew that if she did, she'd still be fighting my corner. For what felt like the umpteenth time, I berated myself for not being a better friend to her.
Two hours and three coffees later, I couldn't make any more excuses to keep Angela with me. She'd cautiously avoided any mention of Ben and I internally thanked her for it. I was glad she was happy, but any talk of successful relationships just reminded me what a steaming pile of crap my love life had become, and brought up mental images of Jacob in his happily-imprinted bliss. Her cell rang for a second time, with her mom informing her that she was coming to pick her up before she missed curfew. I reiterated my promise to help out with the church bake sale as I hugged Angela goodbye, and started the walk back to my truck.
Scanning the street for any sign of threat - supernatural or otherwise, I picked up my pace, sure I was being followed but hoping like hell that it was my overactive imagination. But when had anything ever been my imagination?
Suddenly, everything in the rapidly disappearing sunlight seemed foreboding, and my breaths came short and sharp and I questioned why the hell I'd given up an escorted ride home in favour of being snatched by Victoria at sunset. I rounded the last corner before Newtons, just praying that I didn't end up breaking a leg in the process of getting there when a large hand grabbed my upper arm, halting my steps where I stood. All I could muster was a startled shriek before my breath seized right in my chest.
"Bella? Bella it's me! Shit, I'm sorry I scared you!"
I blinked in the beams of the setting sun, finally piecing together the sensations of the strong, warm hand, the woodsy scent, the deep voice and the large figure silhouetted in the rose-orange rays.
"Jake?" I breathed, squinting to see. I knew before I'd even finished saying it that I was wrong – the figure wasn't tall enough, and even through the spots in my vision from my oxygen-starved brain, I could see that there wasn't enough brawn on display. It was Seth, and he was looking at me like a puppy who'd made a mess on the rug.
"Uh," he began clearing his throat awkwardly, "No, it's Seth. I'm here to take you home now. Embry said you were having coffee with a friend and I should wait by the truck, but I heard you coming. Did you see something?"
He was looking around himself stiffly and sniffing the air, and I gave a relieved smile at his vigilance. Out of all the wolves, I knew both Clearwaters were the most tolerant of me – Leah had anger and experience backing me up, but Seth had empathy and understanding.
"No, I guess I just let the paranoia get the better of me," I replied, fishing around for my keys. "Thanks for watching over me, Seth. Hop in."
That night, and the two days following, I slipped into the routine of having my furry babysitters around me constantly. I had to admit, it did help me sleep a little sounder at night, and I felt like I was getting some of my freedom back, but that could have been because my bodyguards were the less talkative Collin, Brady and Jared, and the only way I knew they were there was the occasional flash of fur amongst the trees.
I got used to my own company again, and although I was determined not to become the recluse I had last winter, I found the opportunity to reconnect with myself was one I hadn't really had in a while. When was the last time I was just Bella? Not part of a couple, or one half of a whole?
I re-read short stories and poetry I loved, and listened to music that had nothing to do with romance. I watched movies that I didn't like to admit to loving in front of Edward, or that Jake wouldn't have sat and watched without complaining and making fun of the characters. I cleaned my room. I rearranged it. I rearranged it again and save for some photos, I threw out anything I could find that would tie me to the person I was when I was with either of my exes.
I rearranged myself.
I wanted to become somebody new; not necessarily the bitchy, dark version of myself I knew had been throwing her weight around, but someone who didn't take crap from anyone, and who wasn't so easily ditched. I wanted to be someone who was as sure of who she was as possible. Maybe then people like Embry wouldn't have me all figured out.
Alright, yeah, I was still dwelling on that. The smug look on his face when he brought me my keys was playing on some sort of loop in my head. I was plagued byL'esprit de l'escalier, every time I thought of it; that situation where you come up with all your good comebacks after the opportunity has passed. (Yeah, so I'm a geek who uses French phrases to describe how I'm feeling. Who else is as lame as that?) There was a huge part of me that knew I was being challenged, but I didn't think I had it in me to truly rise to it.
I wanted the new person I was becoming to be worthy. Was that so bad?
Apparently it was. Some time Tuesday night, I was laying upside down on my bed, fully dressed but shoeless, and had my feet planted on the wall above my headboard. Newtons were having a quiet week, and I wasn't scheduled to work again until the next afternoon, so I was getting the last of my 'me-time' in while I had the chance by listening to music and just letting my mind wander. Or at least I would be, if there wasn't a succession of annoying barks breaking my concentration every few seconds. Paul was ridiculous – I knew he just wanted to shake me down for information on Leah; whatever fascination he'd developed for her seemed to occupying all the time he didn't spend being a complete and utter pain in my ass. I resolved to ignore him all night if I had to.
But he was making it impossible. I sighed heavily, making my way downstairs for warm milk, or anything that would help me sleep, when I caught sight of Charlie peering out the kitchen window like a man possessed.
"Who the hell owns that dog, Bells?"
My knee-jerk reaction was to jump to Paul's defence, banishing Charlie's thoughts of hunting him down or chasing him off, but the words died on my lips, only to be replaced by a smirk. I still didn't think I'd really gotten him back for his little strip-tease the other day, and I saw my opportunity to mess with him a bit.
"I think it's a stray, Dad... I saw something in the woods at the end of the garden, it looked diseased, like it has rabies or something," I said in mock concern. It probably wasn't too far from the truth, although I doubted any of the afflictions Paul Lahote was incubating would fall under the foaming-at-the-mouth category. Charlie sighed loudly and shook his head.
"Damn vermin. Someone outta put that thing out of it's misery," he muttered, reaching for his holster where it hung by the back door. My eyes widened momentarily, and I stepped in front of him, blocking his advance.
"Wait, Dad... you're not gonna shoot it, are you?" I asked, feeling suddenly panicked. I wanted to see Paul suffer, and although Jake had once told me that a bullet wouldn't really take him down, I wasn't quite willing to test that theory out.
"No, sweetie. I'm just going to scare it off... it's almost midnight and it's showing no signs of shutting up any time soon," he replied, eyeing me like I had lost the plot.
Sighing in relief, I stepped aside while my father stalked out into the darkness. I couldn't see any sign of Paul, and the barking had stopped, but I had no doubt he was still among the trees, watching us in silence.
"Do you see it, Bells?" Charlie hissed, holding his gun aloft and crouching. He looked like something from a bad western, and I smiled as I shook my head 'no'. The sound of a cracking branch alerted both our attention, and I briefly worried that Paul would actually be dumb enough to show himself when Charlie was right there.
"On second thoughts, maybe you should just shoot it, Dad. The poor thing is probably crazy with fever. It's the humane thing to do," I said, knowing it was loud enough for Paul to hear. I can't be sure, but I heard what sounded suspiciously like a gasp before Charlie caught my focus again.
"You think? I guess- Hey! Did you see that?" he exclaimed, aiming his gun again at the darkened tree-line. "Maybe I should just-" he cocked the pistol then, and pointed the barrel straight into the sky. The resulting shot that rang out almost deafened me, but there was no mistaking the rustle of trees as Paul escaped with his tail between his legs.
"I think you scared him well enough, Dad," I said with a triumphant smile.
I should have known that I was just fanning the flames; everything just started escalating from there. What was the point in engaging with someone who had no shame, when I blushed at the drop of a hat? What Paul did in retaliation for that little stunt made his amateur strip tease look like a walk in the park, and I didn't think I was ever going to live it down.
A/N: Alright, this chapter may seem like a lot of filler to you, but trust me, there's a reason for everything. If you've read any of my other stories, you'll know that much.
I'm having way too much fun writing Paul, but isn't it interesting how Embry got right under her skin without being half as irritating? Hmmm.
Let me know what you think. :)