"Love is blind,
and it will take over your mind.
What you think is love,
is truly not.
You need to elevate and find.
Love is blind.
I don't even know you,
and I want you dead.
Don't know the facts,
but I saw the blood pour from her head.
See I laid down beside her in the hospital bed,
and about two hours later, doctors said she was dead.
Had the nerve to show up at her mother's house the next day,
to come and pay your respects and help the family pray.
Even knelt down on one knee and let a tear drop,
and before you had a chance to get up, you heard my gun cock."
- Love is Blind, by: Eve
Hourglass
Chapter: 6
-Bella POV-
Emmett finally talks me into letting him clean my feet. He's surprised when I tell him that it doesn't hurt. Deep down, the lack of pain makes me feel worse. I crave the ache; I want to feel anything besides the constant numbness that has quickly overcome me and settled into my bones.
If I could shoulder Rosalie's pain for her, I would. In a heartbeat. That's the guilty part of my mind talking…the logical, but guilty part.
Then there's the bewildered, outraged part. The part of me that is screaming inside of my mind to find him and make him pay for what he did to her. I don't want him to rot in jail, I want him dead.
I want him to feel a million times as scared as I'm sure she was when he hurt her.
I want him to hurt every single second, of every minute, of every day—fifty times the pain he put her through.
The part that scares me the most? I want to be the one who delivers it to him.
I want him to fear me and to know that when I find him death is knocking on his door. I want him to know that karma is waiting to dish out all of the bullshit that he's dealt to Rosalie.
"All set," Emmett says as he bunches up the packaging from the sterile pads he used to clean my feet. Both of them are wrapped in gauze and ace bandages, making me look like a damn burn victim.
"Isn't this a little much?" I ask skeptically. My mind is still hazy from my dark thoughts. I don't mean to sound inconsiderate, even though I'm sure I do.
"Sorry, I didn't mean it like that. It's just…isn't this a bit much for a few scrapes?" I amend.
"Some of those cuts are pretty deep, and it's gonna hurt pretty bad to walk tomorrow. You'll thank me later." He gives me a pointed look.
I nod my head at him and quickly stand up from my spot on the bench. We're still sitting in the parking lot of the E.R. entrance. Emmett retrieved his kit from the ambulance before Newton took it back to park it.
"Are you sure it's okay that you didn't ride back with him?" I ask him for the fiftieth time.
"I told you—we're first responders, we've got more guys out there if there's another call. I can stay back here with you for a while. Besides, you looked like you needed a friend," he says softly, nudging my arm with a beefy elbow.
"What I need is a punching bag. Or better yet, Royce's face on a fucking platter. Considering that probably won't happen any time soon, thank you for sticking around." My throat constricts, and I swallow past the tears that are trying to force their way through.
His smile is as warm as his reply. "Anytime."
"You've done so much for me already. If you have to leave soon, I'll understand," I return, letting him know he is under no obligation to sit here with me.
"I told you before; my friend is coming to check this out. I'd like to see where it goes. If that's okay with you?" he replies.
Under any other circumstances, I'd probably call him nosy or tell him to take a hike, but I can tell he's a nice person; he's a genuine person, so I agree to let him stick around and "see where it goes."
Lord knows I can use all the help I can get.
A/N: Happy New Year! I hope you all had fun and safe holidays!
xxoo,
Missy