Chapter Twenty-One
"Oh God, the blood," Bella whispered, her eyes dazed and far off.
Edward furrowed his brow as he looked at her. She wasn't making sense as she spoke and she seemed as if she were in a different place.
He wasn't sure how they'd gone from talking of the cruelties of show business to whatever Bella was seeing in her head.
His thoughts were cut off as Bella's eyes rolled back and she fell to the floor.
He was on his feet in an instant.
Kneeling at her side.
Cupping her cheeks in his hands.
Tilting her head up.
Whispering her name.
Louder.
His hands on her shoulders.
Shaking gently.
"Bella?" he called, his voice rising in fear as she failed to respond to him. "Isabella!"
She stirred slightly.
Eyelids fluttering.
Lips moving as silent words were spoken.
Words which never met Edward's ears.
The world around him fell away, the voices of the other patrons reducing to a low murmur as he focused completely on Bella, scooping her up into his arms and holding her tiny body close to his chest as he forced his way out of the restaurant, not stopping to apologize as people were jostled in his wake.
Camera flashes lit the night's sky once more as Edward hustled past the waiting paparazzi, trying his best to keep Bella's face away from them as he rounded the corner to the parking lot.
He shifted Bella in his hold, keeping a grip on her with one arm as he fumbled in his suit jacket for the car keys. He hit the remote and the doors clicked. He moved Bella again; half propping her against the car as he wrenched the passenger side door open, then proceeded to help her inside, leaning over her to buckle her seat belt.
He was distracted for a moment over the irony of having considered strapping her in earlier on and now having to actually do it but quickly shook his head so that he could focus on the semi-conscious woman in his car.
Edward shot around to the driver's side, made quick work of getting seated and starting the engine, then roared out of the lot, away from the paparazzi who had just struck gold. He dreaded to think what stories they would print and wished he would be able to protect Bella from them.
"Where are we going?" Bella's soft voice whispered.
He darted his gaze over to her, her eyes still closed, her face looking more serene than it had in the restaurant.
"Home," he replied simply.