"Blue and black, heart torn out,
You uncover what's beneath my skin
There and back, there's no doubt, your touch is my medicine

I'll be okay, 'cause you heal me...

And I'll give you all my pieces broken
In your hands, there's nothing that you can't fix
My heart is frayed, my scars are open
So put me back together now, stitch by stitch
Put me back together now, stitch by stitch

What you say, without words, resuscitates what was numb inside
So repair me, every thread of me, 'cause you're bringing me back to life"

Stitch by Stitch - by, Javier Colon (The Voice)

Hourglass
Chapter 10

-Bella POV-

Thunder. Cold. Rage. Red.

Thunder is for the sound of the blood pumping in my ears as soon as our eyes lock.

Cold is how my body feels when my mind is finally done playing tricks on me, and I realize that he is actually standing here in front of us.

Rage is the overwhelming emotion surging through my body, empowering my mind and motivating my body to react.

And last but not least, red. It's what my vision tints when I jerk myself away from Charlie and attack Royce with every ounce of hatred I have for him.

I can't stop the feral scream that rips from my throat as I unleash my wrath on him. Scratching. Slapping. Kicking. Hitting. Punching him as he tries to grip my arms and hold me back.

When I first strike Royce, the others are stunned into silence.

"Stay away from her! If you touch her again, I'll kill you! Do you hear me, you mother fucker? I. Will. Kill. You!" I spit at him as I continue to swing violently.

When he grips my arms painfully tight, I knee him in the balls and throw my forehead into his face, smashing in his nose. I'm pretty sure everyone in the room hears the sickening crack as it breaks against my forehead. The impact makes me stumble backwards, but I'm determined.

I lunge at him again, sending us both to the ground. I grab his hair and continue swinging at his bloodied face. Just as I'm about to hit his nose for the third time, I'm hauled backwards by a set of strong arms in an unrelenting grip.

"You're not such a big man now, are you, Royce? You're a pathetic piece of shit!" I yell, kicking my legs in his direction, hoping to connect with an important piece of his anatomy—that could hopefully permanently incapacitate him.

Unfortunately, I only hit his side, and it's a weak blow compared to what I want to deliver to him. I'd curb stomp his ass right now if we were alone—and outside.

My breaths are labored, and I am still struggling against my captor. I realize it's Emmett who is holding me when my vision clears. Edward and Charlie are cuffing Royce and reading him his rights rather forcefully, but it's nothing compared to what I've just done to him.

Part of me is smug that I've just handed him his ass, most of me wants to finish what I've started—so he leaves on a stretcher…or a body bag—and a very small part of me is worrying that he could get out of jail and retaliate. The stupid—or possibly extremely brave—part of me isn't afraid for myself, though. It's afraid for Rosalie.

Royce knows I'd rather him come after me than her. I can defend myself. My father is a cop for heavens sake, he's taught me self-defense.

Rosalie—on the other hand—is not a fighter. I think that's why it was always so easy for Royce to manipulate her. Rosalie is trusting by nature, always wanting to see the good in people, even when all they've ever shown her is their worst.

There is nothing good in Royce, and nothing good could ever come from being with someone like him. He's evil incarnate. The devil himself. His soul is black and his heart is stone.

"C'mon, Rocky Bellboa, let's get you cleaned up again." Emmett pulls me away as they take Royce out to the cruiser and load him up.

My anger hasn't diminished yet, and I can't find any humor in Emmett's attempt to calm me down. I wish I had spit on that stupid fucker…Royce. I should have spit right in his stupid, ugly face before beating his ass.

I can't believe he didn't try to fight me. It's against his very nature. Of course, he probably saw Charlie standing behind me, and knew better than to assault the Chief of Police's daughter right in front of him.

I still would've kicked his ass, though.

I look down at the floor as my anger starts to give in to despair, and I see a small, dilapidated bouquet of carnations laying in front of me. Royce must've brought them to keep up appearances.

Right there…that one simple choice in flowers tells everything. Royce King is made of money, and he picked out the cheapest flowers he could find to bring to his long-term girlfriend who he just beat, raped, and left for dead. Not only that, but Rose's favorite flower ties between lilies, roses, and tulips. If he paid a lick of attention to her, he would've known that.

I growl in frustration and forcefully shrug Emmett's grasp off of my arms. "Let me go, Emmett. I'm not going to go after him," I say as I pull away and walk over to the flowers.

Normally, I'd pick them up and toss them in the trash, just to be polite to the hospital staff, but the idea of touching them makes me want to throw up. Instead, I brutally slam my bandaged feet against them, trying to decimate the poor excuse for a plant.

"Ugly. Mother. Fucking. Flowers from Satan!" I growl like the crazy person I am, stomping like there's no tomorrow before Emmett huffs and throws me over his shoulder, carrying me down the hallway.

"Put me down!" I snarl and beat my fists against his back.

"You need to calm down. You do know that if you get arrested they won't throw you in with Royce, right?" he quips, struggling to contain my thrashing body.

"Put me down, I swear to God!" I threaten.

"Now I'm definitely not going to. I don't want to be on the receiving end of what you just delivered back there," he retorts.

He walks into one of the full facility unisex restrooms. I see him headed toward the tiny shower alcove and panic, curling my body against his and biting down on the flesh of his middle back.

He lets out a loud curse and tosses me into the shower, quickly grabbing the detachable showerhead, spraying me with ice cold water.

The breath leaves my body as the shockingly chilly water wakes me up from my all-consuming rage.

"Em-Em-Em-" I try saying his name to no avail. The water is too cold for me to get any words out properly, and he's too afraid of me to divert the showerhead.

Thankfully, Edward shows up out of nowhere and grabs the sprayer from Emmett, shutting it off and lightly shoving him out of the way.

"I-I-I'm-I'm ss-ssorrry-y-y, Eh-eh-Emmett," I stutter.

"She's freezing up. She's gonna go into hypothermic shock. Go get something warm for her to wear, and make sure you bring back a juice or soda," Edward demands.

I flinch when he reaches over to turn the water back on, pressing myself closer to the tile wall and looking at him with fear in my eyes.

Please, God, don't let him spray me with more cold water.

"I'm not gonna hurt you, Bella. You've gotta get warmed up," Edward says in a soothing voice.

I swallow hard and nod, letting him spray me with warm water. I am already soaked as it is. What harm can come from it?

He toes his shoes off to the side, away from the flow of water before attaching the showerhead back to the wall, waiting for it to warm up.

After he peels his socks off, he steps inside the shower with me, and reaches for the showerhead again.

Edward gently sprays me with the warm water, letting it run down my back and all around me. Then he slowly attaches it to the wall again, making sure the spray is still warming my body. He reaches behind me and gently pulls the elastic band from my hair, letting the few remaining strands that haven't already fallen loose, spill down my shoulders.

"Thank you," I whimper softly as I look up at him with tears in my eyes.

He bends down a little closer to me and cradles my face softly. "You don't have to thank me, Bella. I know you're going through a lot right now. Emmett and I will be here for you every step of the way," he assures.

I shut my eyes, floored by his kindness, and unable to fully process it. I'm so thankful for Edward and Emmett coming into my life. I only wish we'd all met under different circumstances.

"Thank you," I whisper again.

"That's what friends are for, Bella."

Friends. Rosalie and I are best friends, and look at how I've failed her.

I think I'll always berate myself for what happened to Rosalie tonight. I doubt I'll ever forgive myself.

But when I look up into Edward's eyes and see so much warmth and kindness directed at me, I feel like maybe I could repent for my mistakes with Rose.

Like maybe eventually, after all of this mess is over and Royce is rotting in jail, everything just might be okay.

Love you guys, thank you for reading.

xxoo,

Missy