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Disclaimer: All characters and the Twilight Saga itself belong to Stephenie Meyer. I do not own any songs. I do not own the restaurant Bella Italia.
Chapter 5: Intoxicated
Shakily, my trembling lips opened and drew in a deep breath whilst my panicking brain attempted to remember some Karate moves. If it was some other time—if I wasn't about to be raped and possibly murdered afterwards—I would be able to remember. It's like when you're about to take a test, but you don't have it yet, and you know all of the answers; then when you actually do get it, you forget everything.
That's what my brain is doing at the moment. Forgetting all of the answers to my problems.
My eyes darted frantically to find some place to escape to. Surely in this vast city there was some kind of escape routes; like fire escape routes going up the wall to an apartment or why can't the government just put a I'm-getting-ambushed-by-intoxicated-men-and-I-need-an-escape-route sign above the correct pathway.
It'd be so much easier that way.
As I continued to search for a way out of this mess, the man whom appeared to be leader of their group came up to me again.
He put his face close to mine—too close for my liking—and I could feel his filthy breath hot against my neck.
When he got closer to me, I turned my head and closed my eyes, refusing to look into his empty glaring eyes.
He muttered in my ear full of hate and playfulness, "Why you being so mean, sweetheart? Look at me! I said, look at me!"
When I didn't turn my head and look at him, he grabbed my chin roughly and yanked it closer to his face; then with his other hand, he took his fingers and tried to peel open my eyelids. But I wielded them shut, and I wouldn't open them until this was all over or not at all—if it ended worse than I expected.
After a few seconds that seemed like forever of the beast in front of me trying to open my eyes, he gave up. He let go of me, grumbling under his breath, obviously furious that I wouldn't obey him.
I thought I heard loud footsteps, a sign that they had left.
So, I opened my eyes cautiously, and another sob wrenched throughout my body when I saw that they had not left. They had merely led me to believe that they had left, so that I would open my eyes for them.
The leader came up to me, gripping my forearm tightly.
I was too shocked to close my eyes as he looked into them with his dark—it was dim because it was dark but the moon was out, showing off it's beauty—blue ones and spoke to me, still slurred, "My name is James, by the way. Not that you'll need to know it after what we do to ya."
He and his friends laughed dementedly. Like one of those scary movies you'd watch where the bad guy laughs his evil laugh; then he kills the good guy.
But that wasn't the case in this situation. Because in this case, he and his friends were the bad guys and I was the good guy, but I knew—somehow—that I wouldn't die.
Oddly, my courage bloated and oozed out of me. I took a chance that I wouldn't normally take.
I smacked this James guy. I lifted my hand to his cheek and then heard a sharp whack.
Hearing his friends guffaw at James' "bitch slap" as they were putting it, I took another brave chance.
I ran with my hands under my stomach, trying to get far away as possible. I ran past a stunned James and his laughing friends. But I guess they all regained composure—as much as they could considering they were drunk—and started to run after me, because I heard noisy footsteps behind me.
I didn't dare look behind myself.
Continuing to run, I heard loud thumps behind me, like one you hear when a body hits the ground. I didn't stop running and I heard three more thumps soon.
"Bella! Hey...hey! Bella, wait up! Stop running," a velvet smooth voice half-yelled and half-panted to me.
I did stop running this time, and I turned around, wide eyed and jaw dropped. I'm pretty sure that I looked like crap with my tear-strained face and possibly bad smelling breath, but I didn't care.
All I wanted to know was how Edward found me, and what happened to James and his friends.
Edward limped up to me, grabbing a hold of my forearms gently, and began to look over my body.
"Are you all right? They didn't hurt you or anything, did they? Because if they did, they better pray that I don't go back there....," he rambled on and on, proceeding to check over my body for bruises and injures.
"Why are you limping? What happened to them? How did you find me?" I asked him with my coarse voice and absolutely bewildered.
"Always thinking about others even when cornered by drunk, horny men," he laughed breathlessly, and despite the awful situation, "Come on. Let's go get you something to eat. I'll explain everything at the restaurant. I just want to make sure you're okay," he responded back to me.
Although he was clearly hurt, he wrapped an arm around my waist and supported half my weight—which had highly increased since I became pregnant—as we walked down the alleyway.
When we arrived at his car—a shiny Volvo that he possibly loved more than Tanya—he opened the passenger door and waited for me to carefully get settled in. He then staggered awkwardly over to the driver side, opened it up, and slid into the seat even though he was indubitably in pain.
He started the Volvo; the engine purring to life, quiet yet powerful.
Edward pressed the gas pedal and we began to drive as I became intoxicated in the scent around us.
The whole car smelled of Edward. Not even Tanya's repulsive smell—she drenched herself in nasty smelling perfume everyday—was in the car. But that was mostly because of the fact that Edward never let Tanya inside his "baby" as he puts it.
Even though I never figured out the reason behind this, I was still thrilled. Thrilled about Edward letting me somewhere that Tanya has never been. Thrilled that he loved me—as a friend unfortunately—enough to let me in his precious Volvo.
And even though he made over one-hundred thousand dollars a year by himself—he wrote songs and compositions that appeared in commercials and even some personally for big time artists—and since Tanya was a Neurologist doctor—I have absolutely no clue how she became this, unless she slept with all of her professors while in college—I was glad that he decided this nice, little vehicle.
I finally snapped out of my little dream world and began to investigate the circumstances.
"So....h-how did you f-find me?" I asked, still shaken up a bit after what just happened. I sniffed when the tears started to surface again; I wiped away the small amount of tears resurfacing.
"You would be terrified if I told you, Bella," he replied to me, with his vocals wavering slightly.
"Try me."
He paused for a moment; only the humming of the car's engine being heard.
Then he spoke, "I followed you and Tanya from the house. But, then I-I lost your car in all of traffic. After a lot of searching, I finally found you two again. I watched as she left you in the dark streets of this horrible city," he inhaled sharply, "As I was following you in my car—going well over the speed limit—I got pulled over by a cop. He gave me ticket and by the time I was done talking with him, you were gone. I'm sorry....that I was..late."
"Why?" I asked, knowing he would understand what I was talking about.
"Sometimes....Alice knows when something bad is going to occur. She...has this...feeling. And, so when she had this feeling, I follow you and Tanya. Also, I know that Tanya can be.....cruel...a lot of the time, and when she is, she tends to do....foolish..things; such as leave the woman who is pregnant with your future child alone in a city full of shortsighted men," he finished.
I wasn't furious or scared of him like he feared I would be.
I was glad. Glad that he followed us. Glad that he saved me from the intoxicated men. Glad that finally discovered that Tanya isn't the sharpest tool in the tool-box. Glad that in every sentence he said, he always put me before Tanya.
Enjoying the peaceful silence between us, I became intoxicated with his scent again, closing my eyes.
After a while, I felt the car stop and turn off.
I opened my eyes and saw that we were at the restaurant Bella Italia. I smiled, realizing how starving I was—and I could just tell that the baby was hungry.
I looked over to Edward in the dim light of the parking lot.
He reached behind himself in the backseat and grabbed two jackets.
I raised an eyebrow and he said, "It is pretty cold out there."
Smiling a thanks to him, I took one of the jackets and slipped it over my shoulders. I opened the car door and struggled in a futile attempt to heave myself out of the car.
Edward chuckled before getting out of the car, walking over to my side, and helping me out.
He was still laughing by the time we reached the doors to the restaurant. I glared at him, huffing.
"Come on. Admit it, it was funny!" he exclaimed to me, laughing still.
I didn't think it was funny that I had trouble getting out of the car, but I loved the sound of his laugh so much that I straightened out my face.
My lips stretched into a big smile, and my eyes no longer glared at him.
Blushing, I responded, "Yeah, yeah. It was funny."
He opened the restaurant's door for me, and while waddling in, I whispered a small thanks to him. He nodded his head and limped in behind me.
We went over to the girl—who didn't look over the age of seventeen—and she was too busy sighing dreamily at Edward to notice that I was there with him.
As Edward asked the girl if the two of us could have a secluded place to eat, she flickered her eyes over to me. Her eyes shown desire for Edward, and jealously that I was with him.
Edward reached into his pocket and he pulled out twenty for the poor, infatuated girl. He clearly thought that I couldn't see him hand her the extra money for the secluded seat, but I did anyway. And I was happy, because I wanted a place to talk without the rest of the people here overhearing us.
I watched as he slipped the money to the girl. At first she paused as she saw the wedding band on his finger; then she just shrugged and took the money.
She smiled at him, probably undressing him in her head, "Yes, sir. You and your....wife..," I cringed and blushed, knowing that I wasn't actually his wife, "can have the most private area in the restaurant. Just follow me, and you will be seated."
Edward placed his hand on the small of my back as we followed her.
I sighed, and wished that her sentence was actually true.
Wife, I scoffed to myself, Yeah, right; only in my dreams.
Okay, there ya go!
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---J
