Just a reminder, this story was intended for Dark Fest and deals with mental illness and violence.
Kitchmill and StoryPainter are lovely people who are generous with their time and suggestions. I can't help tweaking, so all errors are my own. CindyWindy gives awesome advice.
I bounced when he dumped me onto something with a firm cushion. A car door slammed near my ear, and I realized Alice was right; I was in the back of the cruiser. Thank God she'd told me to hide my phone. With the GPS, Edward should be able to track me, where ever I ended up.
After another slam, the car started moving. I did my best to lie still and think things through. As the adrenaline wore off, the logical part of my brain kicked in, and I could see two options: Edward would come for me, or I'd find a chance to run. Either way, I needed to stay calm and not waste precious energy. The problem was there wasn't much to do but think about how frightened I was—both for myself and for Charlie. How would we ever get past this? My mouth ached from being stretched by the sock and, logic be dammed, I couldn't hold back the tears.
A few seconds later, my nose was filling with snot, and I realized I wouldn't be able to breathe soon. I frantically tried to get myself under control. Oh, God. I'm going to die in the back of the cruiser.
My mind raced, flying from topic to topic. I searched for any happy memory that might stop the tears: Edward, Alice, Renee. Their faces all slipped through my head, but the image of Renee led me right back to Charlie, and I let out another silent sob. Memories wouldn't work. What about the future? I imagined myself back in the meadow with Edward. The sun shined on us, and I laughed while I covered my eyes, teasing him about needing sunglasses to see his chest.
My breathing slowed. A bit of the terror faded.
In the meadow, Edward fed me strawberries from his hand, and when I'd eaten my fill, I fell asleep in the sunny warmth ...
"Bella, I'm talking to you!" Charlie growled. I had no idea how long he'd been speaking, or how long I'd been in the back seat. The car had stopped, and he had the door open. His fingers dug in my mouth, pulling out the sock. It hurt to move my jaw, and I had trouble closing my mouth. He lifted a bottle of water to my lips, and I gasped and choked, coughing when I couldn't control the flow of the liquid.
"You probably don't understand all this yet, but I've got something to show you." With uncoordinated, jerky movements, he unwrapped the comforter. The rush of air was cold, but I didn't make a sound. I thought I had understood before, but the reality was sinking in—Charlie was lost. The man in front of me was no longer my father, and I needed to make sure I didn't antagonize him.
It was ironic. Along with the gun-safety lectures and the self-defense demonstrations, he'd lectured me about what to do in a kidnapping situation. As my teacher, he knew everything I'd been taught about how to behave. He'd be expecting anything I did. I was already too late for rule one; he'd removed me from my home. Now, it was time to concentrate on reducing injury and gaining as much information as possible.
Remembering Alice's advice to keep him calm, I knew she was right. If I acted as though I understood his reasons, he might let his guard down. I needed to keep my wits about me while looking compliant.
With a quick slice, he cut through the zip tie, and I could move my legs again. It took a bit of maneuvering before I was sitting up with my cuffed hands in my lap.
Charlie closed the door, leaving me alone in the back, and he sat down in the driver's seat. I couldn't see anything outside the car, and I had to assume we were parked along the side of the road in the middle of nowhere. God, I hoped that GPS in my phone was working.
"Now that I have your attention, Isabella, I'd like to show you something." His voice was deadly calm, and I plastered an interested expression on my face.
He adjusted the monitor mounted to the dashboard of the cruiser. It only took a few seconds before I was looking at an image of some bushes at the side of the road. We sat in silence, and I wondered what we were waiting for. Just as I opened my mouth to ask, there was the tiniest blip on the screen.
"There! Did you see it?"
"See what? Maybe you can describe it to me."
He continued speaking as though I hadn't said anything. His voice had a detached quality, like he was reading an old case report.
"I was sitting in a new hiding spot, ready to pick off speeders, when it happened. At first, I thought it was just a camera glitch, but I took another look." He adjusted the recorder, playing the blip back and forth. "Right there!" He'd managed to get the display moving frame by frame. His finger poised over the pause button, and when a grainy Rosalie popped up on the screen, I couldn't help but gasp. Right behind her was Emmett in a leaping motion that more resembled a cat than a human. They appeared to be running at great speed.
"The radar almost didn't register them. If they hadn't shown up on camera, I would never have known it happened."
I didn't move. I didn't speak. After all this time, Charlie was getting close to the truth, and he couldn't deal with something so fantastic and beyond his understanding.
He faced forward, talking to the windshield. "What is that? What can run that fast and leap without falling? It's not normal. It's not ... human." He waited, and I knew he was asking for some sort of explanation. "That paint chip, it came from your window sill. The only way it got into your room was if someone tracked it inside. There are no ladder marks in the grass. Edward's climbing in your window, but I don't know how."
Charlie rubbed his face with his hands before turning in his seat to look at me. "Is he brainwashing you? Seducing you? Is that why you keep taking him back? Does he have some sort of unnatural hold over you?"
"Dad, I don't know what you're talking about. Edward's not allowed in my room—" I responded quickly, and as the words left my mouth, I knew it was the wrong approach.
"Don't lie to me, Isabella! I'm your father, and I've given in on a lot of things, but I'm not stupid. I know teenage boys climb in girls' windows. What I don't know is what kind of creature that boy is and how he got up there." His eyes were too wide, and he was speaking too quickly.
"He almost got you killed last year. You ran away last month. I'm sorry. You can't go back. It's too dangerous."
For a second, I could see the old Charlie. He was still in there. I needed to reason with him. There was still hope.
I took a deep, quivering breath. "It's okay, Dad. You wanted me to go Renee's. I think that's a good idea. Why don't you take me there?"
He shook his head, and it scared me to see that his hands were shaking.
"It's too late for that. They've brainwashed you somehow. I can't take you back there. You're my baby girl, and it's up to me to protect you—even from yourself."
The nausea-inducing fear was back. Should I protest and upset him? Should I agree and get further and further away from home? As I struggled with what to say next, Charlie turned the lights back on and cranked the engine over.
"Where are we going?" It was Saturday night. Who knew how far he could take me before someone noticed I was gone? Edward wouldn't call the authorities. I had to pray they would reach me before Charlie got to his destination.
"Somewhere safe." He was silent for a long time, and I didn't expect him to speak again. When he did, he was back to that flat, emotionless tone. "Billy has friends on a reservation in Wisconsin. They know a doctor who deprograms kids. They sent one of the Quileute boys there a few years back after they rescued him from a cult. Maybe they can take you on—help you understand why you don't see the Cullens for what they are."
I was still reeling from this information when my phone vibrated. I gasped at the sensation. In another situation, this would be funny. I needed to get Charlie to take me to a bathroom so I could look at the text.
"Dad, I'm going to need to pee soon. Can we stop at the next restroom?" We were in the middle of nowhere, and I didn't want to end up rummaging in the dark, looking for a bush to hide behind; the light from the phone would be too easy to spot.
"Later. First we need to make some time."
It was the last thing he said to me for a while, but I could hear him muttering. "All looking so young and never changing. Why doesn't that boy ever eat? Teenage boys are supposed to eat! Always going out of town together. Never fighting. It's not normal. It's not natural."
He was desperately trying to work things out, and he was too close. There were a few key pieces of information missing, and without those, the secret remained just out of his grasp. The combination of mystery and perceived danger had ruined his ability to reason.
Ignoring his monologue, I sat back and tried to cover myself with the quilt. I wasn't going to convince Charlie to stop, and I needed to conserve my strength. I wasn't sure whether or not I had drifted off when the car stopped.
Charlie had parked the cruiser in a nearly empty Wal-Mart parking lot. "I'll be back in a few minutes. Don't talk to anyone. I mean it, Isabella." Without another word, he locked the door and walked into the store, not looking back.
The movements were tricky, but I managed to get my phone out of my pants. There was one missed text from Edward.
Still working on the GPS in your phone. Trying to find you from what Alice is seeing. Stay safe. Charlie's almost figured it out, and he's on the edge. Don't push him! I love you.
Thank God! Edward knew what had happened, and he was working to find us. Unfortunately, Charlie may have had a destination in mind, but he wasn't looking at maps and seemed to be making random turns. It felt like he was too scattered to pick a route. I needed to slow us down long enough for Alice to find us.
I'd just managed to put the phone away when Charlie unlocked the driver's door, tossed two large bags on the seat next to him and pulled out of the lot. If he even realized that he'd left me handcuffed, alone and vulnerable, he didn't mention it.
There was an all-night fast food place nearby, their bright yellow sign a beacon in the dark. There was no one in the lot, and Charlie verified that we could use the side door without being seen from the counter. Locking the car, he carried the bags with one hand and dragged me inside with the other. He knocked to verify the men's room was empty before opening the door. It was the kind where there weren't stalls, just one room with a urinal, a toilet, and a sink. He followed me inside, and I felt my heart start racing.
"Dad, you can't stand here while I pee. You can wait outside. I'm not going anywhere." I prayed he'd be reasonable, but with his new paranoia, there was no such luck.
"Go, or don't go. I don't care. Either way, I'm not stopping again anytime soon."
Even though I wanted to call Edward, I really did need to pee, and I felt tears begin to roll down my face. This couldn't be happening.
"Please, Dad," I heard myself whimper, but he wasn't affected.
He turned around, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms over his chest.
The cuffs chafed when I moved, and it felt like hours getting my pants unsnapped, unzipped and pulled down. I almost dropped my phone before frantically stuffing it into a pocket. I squatted, and when the pee hit the bowl, relief washed over me, followed by a fresh round of humiliation. Because of the cuffs, I had to wedge both hands between my legs to wipe, and I felt anger start to overtake my embarrassment. Once I had my pants pulled up, I moved the phone back into my underwear.
"I'm done," I said, trying to keep the irritation out of my voice.
"I got you some clothes." He didn't look at me as he passed over one of the big bags.
"What?" For a second, I thought he bought me clothes for the trip. My phone vibrated, making me jump, and I started crumbling the plastic bag—anything to cover the sound. If Alice was trying to reach me while Charlie was so close, whatever was about to happen must be awful. My heart sank. How far would he go in his quest to protect me?
"We have three quarters of the country to cross, and you need to be able to follow me into the john so I can keep an eye on you."
"What?" I repeated. He wasn't making any sense. When he didn't answer, I started digging through the bags, pulling out items that made me want to scream: men's jeans in a size I knew were way too big, plain black men's T-shirts, and a lined, button-up flannel shirt. A baseball cap and a wide ace bandage were at the bottom of the bag.
"You're going to dress me up as a guy?" He'd truly had lost his mind.
"Don't worry. If you look the part, no one will question it. People see what they want to see."
I couldn't believe the irony. Charlie had been seeing what he wanted to see for the better part of a year! A tiny voice in the back of my head told me to stay calm. My phone vibrated again, and I was almost too angry to worry about him hearing it. I desperately wanted to see the message, but knew I couldn't.
"I won't do it," I said, crumpling the bag shut and trying to keep my tone even. "You can take me cross-country to protect me, and I promise not to run away, but I won't dress like a guy and let you drag me into any more men's rooms. It's just wrong. I think we need to call Mom."
The eyes that looked back at me were practically dead. He spoke quietly, and I had to strain to hear.
"I loved your mother with everything I had, and the day you were born was the happiest day of my life. The day she took you away almost killed me." His eyes narrowed, and he raised his voice. "I won't allow whatever he is to take you away again. I will do my job as your father. I will protect you! And that means you will listen to me!" Like a storm rolling in off the ocean, his face darkened, and his eyes flashed. "You will do as you're told! Strip and change. Use the bandage on your ..." He motioned at my chest.
If it weren't so absurd, I'd have been laughing. "No. I won't." I knew I shouldn't antagonize him, but I couldn't stop. I'd been pulled from my home, treated like a criminal, and dragged to God knows where. I was ready to end to this. It didn't matter what he did. Bracing my feet, I glared up at this man who had helped raise me and had loved me for eighteen years.
I had an odd sense of déjà vu as his body twisted. In the same way my brain had seemed to speed up when the van careened at me junior year, I saw Charlie's hand come at me in slow motion, but I still couldn't move fast enough to get out of the way. A tremendous crack sounded through the tiny room as his fist connected with my cheek. I toppled to the side. My jaw hit the side of the urinal just before my temple slammed into the dirty tile floor. Sparks shot across my vision, my stomach lurched, and I struggled to stay conscious, taking deep, gulping breaths of urine-scented air. I instinctively tried to get away, my feet scrabbling, pushing me across the floor.
I wedged myself between the toilet and the wall, whimpering when Charlie reached down and wrapped my hair around his fist. He hauled me up, and I groaned at the searing pain shooting through my head.
"Look at yourself! Look at what you made me do!" He shook me like a rag doll before unclenching his fist. I folded in on myself, crumpling to the floor.
I curled into a ball, covering my head with my arms. Blood filled my mouth, and I realized that I had broken a tooth in the fall. My tongue was cut, and a huge piece of the canine was rolling around in my mouth. I spat it into my hand before letting it drop to the floor. My stomach rolled, and I pulled myself up to my knees, balancing on my cuffed hands while I struggled to the toilet. Blood-tinted bile was all I could bring up, but my stomach continued to heave, and each spasm wracked my body and sent fresh stabs of pain through my temple. I wondered if this was what a concussion felt like. Could I go to sleep? What if I didn't wake up?
When the heaving stopped, I closed my eyes and sat back against the wall. Wiping my mouth carefully with the back of my hand, it occurred to me that I'd stopped keeping track of Charlie. Shit! Where was he?
A fresh wave of adrenaline had my heart pounding. He seemed capable of anything now. I couldn't ever lose track of him again. A plastic bag rustled, and I knew he was getting out those clothes. Damn it! Why did I antagonize him? He wasn't stable. I knew better.
"Get up, Isabella. On your knees. Come here." I couldn't figure out what was in his hand, and that scared me. It was small and black, about the size of our cordless phone.
"Dad, please," I tried to say, but the words were garbled. My tongue was swelling. I didn't know what I was asking for, but I'd try anything. I tried speaking more slowly. "Please, let's go home. Or we could go to Mom's. She'll help us. Please."
"We're past that. Get over here, Isabella."
Whatever was in his hand, he'd managed to plug into the only socket in the bathroom. I opened my eyes against the now-bright light and felt fresh tears fall. It was an electric trimmer, the kind I used on his hair at home. Sweet Jesus. Please let this be some sort of horrible nightmare. Please don't let this be happening.
"Daddy, please."
"This is for the best. If we can make him not want you, and we can get far enough away, you'll be safe. I didn't enjoy hitting you. Don't make me do that again." He was back to the emotionless, detached state.
I couldn't do it. I couldn't go willingly. A small sliver of rational thought told me not to antagonize him, but I couldn't make myself get closer to him.
He sighed deeply, as though I was a naughty five-year-old.
It took exactly two steps for him to reach me. The cord stretched just far enough. I batted at him with all the strength I had left. With a loud curse, he tossed the clippers aside and they clattered to the floor. Charlie pulled his keys from his pocket and reached for me again. When he was done, I was on my stomach, but now, the cuffs were behind my back.
He pressed on my shoulder with bruising force while the clippers got closer and closer. A tile square dug into my cheek, and the vibration from the clippers echoed through my temple. Just as the tone of the buzzing changed, I felt the rush of cold air. Tears fell as my hair dropped onto the grimy tile. It was so cold.
Oh, God. Edward loved my hair. Was Charlie right? Would he not want me if it was gone? Did Alice see this? Is that why Edward tried to call?
"Get up and get changed."
Charlie hauled me up. He unlocked the cuffs before brushing me off roughly as though I were covered with potato chip crumbs instead of the remnants of my crowning glory.
I swayed as I saw the hair at my feet. Reaching down, I picked up a long strand, rubbing it between my fingers. Memories of Edward pushing it aside and kissing my neck brought up a sob. I would miss that so much.
Charlie shoved the first bag at me again. This time he turned his back so I could change; he must have been sure I wouldn't protest again.
Trying to keep my thoughts blank, I put the clothes on. The only things that would stay were my panties and the Chucks. As expected, the jeans were much too big, and I kept the phone tucked in my undies. The Ace bandage didn't do much to cover my breasts, but with the loose T-shirt and flannel, it would be hard to tell I was female. Tears started again as I pulled the ball cap on.
I couldn't help but glance in the mirror. I could have been a public service poster: "Violence Hurts Everyone." A huge bruise blossomed across my cheek, and I had the beginnings of a black eye. My mouth was swollen where the tooth was broken. A sob broke though as I rubbed one hand gently across the buzz cut covering my scalp. Two long strands remained near my temple, missed by the clipper and seeming to taunt me with what I'd lost. The most frightening thing was the vacant look in my eyes. Eventually, I'd look like Charlie.
Out of habit, I reached up to sweep a lock of hair behind my ear. I could almost feel it.
"It'll grow back."
That was as close to an apology as I was going to get. Charlie grabbed my arm, dragged me out of the bathroom and tossed me into the backseat. I curled in on myself, still trying not to think. The pain in my head was fading, but the ache in my jaw was getting worse.
I took deep, calming breaths, but air passing across the broken tooth sent fresh waves of agony though my head. My stomach was pitching again, and I started to shiver. Logic asserted itself, telling me there was a good chance I was going into shock. What was I supposed to do for that? Junior high first aid was so long ago. God, Bella, think! Elevate the injured area and stay warm.
I pulled the comforter from the floor of cruiser, inhaling deeply, taking in Edward's scent before curling in on myself. Shifting in the cramped space, I finally rested my head on a bent elbow and tucked the comforter close. It took minutes for the shivering to slow then stop. As the time passed, I pretended I was still at home. My bed was warm while I waited for Edward to crawl in the window. Charlie was dreaming the sleep of the ignorant, and soon my lover would come to me. In my fantasy, Edward crawled in my window, wrapping his arms around me, nuzzling into my hair, inhaling deeply. In my mind, I was warm, and I was safe; I was still whole.
I had no idea how much time passed as I daydreamed, concentrating on deep-breathing through my nose and staying out of Charlie's line of sight. I worried when the car stopped suddenly.
"We need to ditch the cruiser." He'd pulled into the lot of a commercial warehouse. Judging by the parked cars, there was a shift working inside, but no one outside. It took Charlie less than a minute to open the door of an older, black SUV and hotwire it. While he transferred guns and other equipment from the cruiser to the SUV, I considered trying to make a run for it. Even if I could get him to open the door, there was no way I'd make it more than ten feet. I was smart enough to bide my time.
He opened the door, yanking me to my feet and tossing me in the back of the SUV. The jarring motion sent a fresh wave of agony through my head, and I cried out. I cradled my face in my hands and tried to hold still.
"Hurt bad?" Charlie asked. He didn't wait for an answer before his eyes scanned the parking lot. About three cars away was an older sedan. It was two-tone, dented all to hell, and plastered with pro-pot, drug, and rock band stickers. Charlie grabbed a rock and smashed in the driver's side window, turning the tempered glass to glittery rubble. I watched, horrified, as he opened the door and started searching. He returned, holding up a small wad of cash, a prescription bottle, and a baggie of joints.
He tucked the joints into his pocket—God only knew what he planned to do with those. After skimming the bottle label, he opened it and tilted a round, red tablet into his hand. He held it out to me.
Shaking my head, I tried to let him know without speaking that I wasn't going to take it. I'm no goody two-shoes, but I didn't want to end up taking someone's hormone replacement or blood-sugar medication.
"Take it, Bella. It's for pain." He might as well have been telling a stranger it was going to rain tomorrow. There was no care in his tone. "Do as you're told."
I shook my head slowly, watching those empty eyes.
He sprang forward. One hand held my throat while the other thrust the tablet between my teeth. I grabbed his wrist, trying to push his hand back so I could breathe. He covered my mouth, leaning in until his eyes were level with mine.
"Swallow. Now." His breath was sour, and my eyes watered. The look in his eyes terrified me, so I stared at the tiny mole above his eyebrow. Finding the tablet with my tongue, I moved to the proper place for swallowing. Once my throat muscles moved, he gripped my chin and forced a foul-tasting finger into my mouth, sweeping back and forth. I screeched when he hit the broken tooth.
The sound of my pain seemed to satisfy him. With a nod, he stepped back and started to close the door on me.
The fight and fresh pain brought back the nausea and chills. "Dad, please. The blanket," I gritted out, trying to keep my jaw still. Under the harsh lot light, I watched my father go back to the cruiser and grab the last thing I had from home. Once he'd tossed it in, I made a nest for myself. I felt slightly safer when I was out of sight, the covers pulled over my head, hiding from the boogeyman.
My phone vibrated again, and I realized that I had no idea how many times it had gone off since Charlie pulled me from the house. It only took a few seconds to decide that the risk was worth it. I checked the blanket edges to make sure no light was visible and slowly pulled the phone from my pants. My hands trembled while I turned the brightness all the way down.
There were three messages. The first two were heartfelt pleas for me to stay calm and not upset Charlie. The third filled me with hope.
We're getting close. Hang on.
I thought about trying to answer, but my eyes were full of tears, and the letters on the display wouldn't focus. No matter how hard I concentrated, I couldn't think of how to reply. Was that the pain pill taking effect? How foggy would I get? If it got any worse, there was no way I'd be able to type on that tiny keyboard. It seemed best to wait. At least I knew they would reach me soon. It took three tries to get the phone closed and back into my pants. I curled into a tight ball and tried to come up with escape plans, but it got harder and harder to think. "Hang on. Hang on." Through the haze, I kept whispering it. "Hang on."
Our little Halloween tale concludes tomorrow! Thanks for reading.