BPOV
The plane trip was thankfully uneventful.
No one recognized me, which told me that no one had found the body yet and posted my picture all over the news as a suspect. It probably wouldn't be for a few days, anyway. Not like there was a lot of people who cared about the bastard to be worrying about him.
My hands instinctively flexed into fists, his face popping up in my mind.
Some people that kill almost immediately regret doing it.
I don't. Not really.
How can I regret killing a man that was going to hurt my sister? It's just not possible, and I'd do it again if I had to.
The plane landed in Florida within hours, Nessie and I got out of the airport as quickly as possible. I had pulled over fifty grand out of the account our parents had left us, which was pretty much all their savings, but it was more than enough for now. I could eventually get a job wherever we ended up, and I could easily change how I looked. Maybe I'd go blond…
Now, we had just checked into a hotel. It wasn't anything special, we needed to save as much money as we could, and I wasn't about to waste it on ritzy hotels.
"Go get ready for bed, sweetie." I said to Nessie, pushing her toward the bathroom and handing her a toothbrush and toothpaste I had picked up along the way at a local store.
She did as I said without a word. I waited until the bathroom door was firmly closed before I sat down on the bed and buried my face in my hands.
Taking deep breaths, I did everything I could to keep from having a small emotional breakdown right now.
I might not regret killing him, but… I still murdered a man. In cold blood.
It all happened so quickly…
I was going to get my sister back, one way or another. If I had to kidnap her from that horrible foster home she was in, so be it.
It took me longer than I had planned to get the address, the asshole secretary at the social services place not willing to give over anything until I gave him what he wanted.
Ugh… the amount of mouthwash I'd gone through trying to get the taste of his cum out of my mouth.
I'm not proud of the way I go about getting things done, but in the end, giving a semi cute, but slightly creepy guy a blowjob in the supply closet was the least I would do to get my sister out of that place.
James Pierce. 283 North Point Street, Virginia.
Just a few weeks ago, my parents - if you could call those people parents - had died in a car crash, leaving me, at the age of nineteen to raise my seven year old sister. Problem was, my parents never made out a specific will, so the state had to decide whether or not I was 'capable' of taking care of Nessie.
They had ruled no.
I cried as I watched the social worker take my sister away, telling me they would put her in a foster home until our case was reviewed in another year, once again judging if I would be capable of taking care of her.
I wasn't going to let them take away the last good thing I had.
And once I did some digging about James, I could tell just by looking at him the dude was a creeper. Long blonde hair tied back in a ponytail, hazel eyes that made you shiver, scruffy, like he hadn't shaved in a week.
Our system really was going to hell if this was the type of person they were letting take in children.
I finally came to the house, it was small and done in dark blue.
Knocking on the door, James opened it a few seconds later, a beer in his hand. I scowled, but tried to be polite as I forced words out of my mouth.
"Hello, my name is Isabella, I'm here for my sister." I said as sweetly as possible.
I know, blunt and not the best approach, but it was my only one.
James squinted at me and frowned.
"Now, now… I don't think that's going to happen." He said, smiling creepily at me.
"Why the hell not?" I gritted through my teeth, giving up my false politeness.
"Because I know you; you're that little bitch from the news. Hot as hell…" He muttered, eyeing me up and down.
"Ain't gonna happen." I growled.
"Too bad. I guess I'll just have to take out my… needs on that little brat." James smirked, closing the door in my appalled face.
I went from stunned to furious in seconds. Opening the door, which he was thankfully stupid enough to leave unlocked, I saw his feet disappear at the top of the stairs.
I let out an outraged screech and ran up the stairs after him.
Everything was red and blurry after that.
I remember us fighting at the top of the stairs, him falling down them, screaming at me, calling me all kinds of names. The next thing I knew, we were in the kitchen.
I clawed and hit, kicked and punched. His hands had tangled up in my hair and managed to throw me against the counter. I caught a glint out of the corner of my eye beside me and turned toward it.
A knife.
Grabbing it, I thrust it toward him, and for once I saw fear flash across his face.
"Whoa, you crazy fucking bitch." He said, holding his hands up.
I didn't care anymore, I wanted him gone. I wanted it so this scum could never even look at me or Ness again.
I lunged forward mindlessly and heard a scream, hands on me, falling to the ground… silence.
I came to my senses suddenly, slowly looking down at my hands, covered in bright red blood.
No…
James was laying beside me, the knife sticking out of his chest right where his heart is and blood was dripping down to pool around him.
Gasping, I went to cover my face with my hands, but stopped short because of the blood. I ran to the sink, washing it all down the drain.
Nessie…
Running up the stairs, I checked the first door I came to on my left, throwing it open. The room was bare except a single bed and a dresser.
I saw her, sitting in the far corner, arms wrapped around her knees.
"Bella!" She cried out when she saw it was me, getting up and running to me, flinging her arms around my waist.
She was safe… that's all that mattered.
"Bella." Nessie's little voice pulled me out of my mind.
My head snapped up to see her standing in front of me, a frown on her face as she looked at me.
"What is it, sweetie?" I asked.
"Don't be sad." She whispered.
"Oh I'm not sad, I was just thinking about some stuff." I tried to assure her.
She nodded, but the frown still remained on her face.
"Hey, what's wrong?" I asked her.
"Is it my fault?" She asked quietly.
"No!" I almost yell. I gentle my voice after she jumps a little. "No, it's not your fault. None of it is your fault. I did it all, it's my responsibility. Don't worry, I'll make it all better. It will all be okay."
She smiles again and I can breathe.
"Let's go to bed, we've got a big day tomorrow." I said.
We snuggle into bed together, but I don't sleep too well. I'm too nervous, worried that people will be looking for us.
AN
You got to find out a little more about Bella, but there is more to her story. Way more.
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