21
Jasper knelt next to Jacob Black's body. He was still wearing the same dirty blue jeans, black T-shirt, and red button up that he had been wearing when they had met the day before. What was new, of course, was the bruising on his face. Both of his eyes were swollen shut, his lips busted, and there was bruising around his neck. Upon closer inspection, Jasper suspected they would find bruising on the entirely of his body. Clearly, the boy had been beaten to death.
"How long has he been dead?" Jasper asked.
"Between twelve and fifteen hours," the medical examiner, a young woman with long black hair and bright blue eyes said, squatting next to him.
Jasper had only met Charlotte Long a few times, but had always gotten a good feeling about her. She wasn't like some medical examiners, who felt they were too good to work on scene.
"Looks like whoever killed him put him through the ringer, though. He had internal bleeding, probably for the last four or five hours of his life. Blood has pulled on the left side of his stomach. My guess is liver, maybe his intestines. Won't know for sure until I get him on my table, of course. And before you ask, Detective Cullen, I am making him my top priority."
"So he suffered," Jasper whispered, ignoring the quip about him being impatient.
"Well, it definitely wasn't quick."
"Any signs of sexual assault?" Garrett asked, drawing their attention to him.
"No, I don't believe so, but again, we won't know for certain until we get him back to office. He wasn't homeless, was he?"
"No." Jasper blew out a heavy breath before he stood up and looked around the room. "Why was he here? How'd he get here? He was leaving the reservation. How'd he end up here? I mean, look around. Clearly this is where she'd been staying for a while."
"Was he a part of it?"
Jasper scoffed.
"Kid was from La Push, right? Grew up in the same house as Sam Uley?" Garrett countered, folding his arms in front of him. "How do we know that they aren't all a bunch of child-raping bastards out there on the reservation? They covered what Sam did to Leah Clearwater and Emily Young, didn't they? Could be a human trafficking ring, and that's why the Tribal Council didn't stop Sam."
Jasper shook his head. "You didn't see him yesterday, Cap. Kid was terrified of Sam Uley."
"Maybe he was pretending."
"He wasn't," Jasper said again, and when Garrett went to counter his argument, he put his hand up. "Jacob Black is only like a year older than our girl, which would have made him nine when she was taken. I seriously doubt a nine year old boy is going to be part of a vicious child trafficking ring, Cap. I just . . . I just know, all right? I looked this kid in the eyes, saw how much losing his dad hurt him, okay? You don't just get over losing your dad, especially like that."
Garrett stared at him. "Yeah, I suppose you'd know, too." And before Jasper could assure him that he was all right, he looked around the room. "Let's bag as much as we can. Maybe we'll get lucky, and find Sam Uley's address or some shit."
Jasper snorted, but began to process the scene. As he grabbed a pair of gloves and several evidence bags, he knelt next to the pile of clothes in the corner, placing them inside one by one. All he could think about was Bella Swan, and the hell she must have endured inside that little room. The next time he found himself with Sam Uley in his sights, he was going to take his shot.
—SfH—
She held Beth until she fell asleep again, and then carefully carried her upstairs and laid her in her crib. Gentle, like she was supposed to be. She would prove herself to everyone. That way when they found Hope, they would already know she was a good mom, a gentle mom.
Biting her lip, she slipped out of Beth's room and headed back downstairs. Edward was still sitting on the porch with Emmett. Carlisle, Esme, and Peter were in the kitchen, leaving only Rosie in the living room. Her sister looked up at her and smiled, though her eyes seemed sad. She didn't like her Rosie being sad. Her Rosie had always been happy. She laughed all the time. But not now.
"Guess she was tired, huh?" Rosie asked, patting the couch next to her. "Sit by me."
"Okay." She walked over and slowly settled onto the couch, unsure why she felt so uncomfortable. They sat in silence for several minutes. She was unsure what to say. It wasn't until she heard Emmett laughing that she heard herself asking, "Is . . . is Emmett your boyfriend?"
Rosie smiled, her face lighting up. "Yeah, we've been together almost a year."
"Oh," she whispered, sliding her hands under her legs. "Where'd you meet him?"
"Um, we actually met in a library," Rosie laughed.
"A library?" she asked.
Rosie nodded. "At the University of Washington. Emmett just graduated, a few weeks ago. I still have one more semester, though."
"Oh," she murmured.
"I don't suppose you got to go school, did you?"
She shook her head. "Sometimes he'd bring me books to read, if . . . if I was good, but most of the time, he would tear them up before I could finish them. Said I was too stupid for school, anyway."
"You're not stupid, Bella," Rosie said, reaching out and placing her hand on her knee.
She tensed and scooted away, letting Rosie's hand fall off her knee. Rosie started to say something, but the door to the house opened, and they both looked over their shoulders, finding Alice hurrying in with Edward right behind her. They each had at least ten shopping bags in their hands.
"Just put them on the coffee table," Alice instructed him.
Edward rolled his eyes, but did at he was told. He caught her eyes, throwing her a wink that had her giggling. "What's so funny?"
"Nothing," she whispered, biting her lip. "What's all that?"
"I don't know," he quipped. "It's all for you."
"For . . . for me?" she stammered and scrambled to her feet, looking from him to Rosie and then to Alice. "What do you mean?"
"Hey, calm down," Alice said, walking over and placing her bags on the table, too. "I noticed that you didn't have any clothes of your own, so I bought you some."
She stared at Alice for a moment before saying, "You what?"
Alice grinned and grabbed one of the bags, pulling out a pair of jeans. "I bought you some clothes."
"You bought me clothes?" she asked, shifting her eyes to Edward before asking, "I mean, what do I got to do for them?"
"What?" Alice asked, frowning. "You don't have to do anything, honey. They're a present, a gift."
Once again, she found herself staring at Alice. "A gift? I don't understand."
"Um," Alice paused and looked at Edward before saying, "Haven't you ever just been given a gift before?"
She swallowed thickly before saying, "I don't know."
"You don't have to do anything, Bella," Edward said, walking around the coffee table and reaching for her hands, which she eagerly placed in his. He sat down on the couch, pulling her onto the cushion next to him. "None of us will ever expect anything from you that you don't want, too, okay? You don't . . . you don't owe us anything, ever. Do you understand?"
"But why?" she asked, her eyes filling with tears as Emmett, Peter, Esme, and Carlisle walked into the living room. "Why do you care? I'm just a nobody, a nothing."
"You most certainly are a someone, someone very important to all of us," he whispered, placing one his hands on the side of her face. "We love you, Bella. We . . . love you so much, and we're always going to be here for you."
Tears flooded her eyes, spilling down her cheeks. .
"Don't cry, love," he whispered, nestling her in his embrace.
The sound of a phone ringing broke through the emotional moment, causing everyone to laugh and looked over at Emmett, whose checks turned bright red as he fumbled for his phone. The ringing stopped, only to start again a moment later. He gave Carlisle a look before he turned and hurried back outside, closing the front door behind him.
"Are you going to show us what you got her, Alice?" Esme asked, drawing everyone's attention away from the door.
"Yes, of course," she said, putting a smile on her face. "I tried to keep things simple for you, Bella. I wasn't sure what your style is," she added with a laugh.
She didn't laugh. Style? Clean? Cleanish? Was that a style?
"Anyway, I went with some basics," Alice continued, and started dragging jeans out of several bags. There had to be at least ten pairs. Why would she need so many? She could wear one pair for six, seven months at a time, couldn't she? "Also, because we days when we want to lounge around and be comfy, I got you some sweat pants, long sleeve tees, short sleeve tees. Flannels of course, because you know it's cold outside a lot. I also got you some hoodies, sweaters, and a couple jackets, one thicker than the other for when it gets really, really cold."
Alice paused and looked at her. "It's too much, isn't it?"
"Huh?" she asked, feeling everyone look at her.
She put her hands up. "If there's stuff you don't like, I can take it back. No hard feelings. We just want you to be comfortable, Bella."
"Oh, um, okay," she said, biting the inside of her lip.
"I have an idea," Rosie said, scooting a little closer to the table and pulling out a pair of the black sweat pants, a bright blue T-shirt, and one of the flannels, a black and blue plaid. "Why don't you take a shower? And put some clean clothes on. Would you like that?"
She frowned. "But I just took a shower."
Rosie's smile slipped. "That was a couple days ago, honey. You can take as many showers as you want."
Her mouth fell open. "I can?"
Rosie smiled and nodded. "As many as you want."
"Oh, okay," she murmured, shifting her eyes to Esme and Carlisle. "Is that okay with you?"
"Of course it is," Carlisle said, placing his hand on Esme's back. "Do you remember me telling you where the towels were?"
"The closet," she whispered, standing up and reaching for the clothes Rosie had picked out for her.
"You might need these, too," Alice said, handing her another bag. She peeked inside, finding several pairs of panties and a bra. She hasn't worn a bra ever, and had no idea how to put one on. "Go on now. Enjoy a nice hot shower, honey."
She nodded, and started for the stairs, but stopped and looked back at Alice. "Thank you."
"You're welcome," she said with a smile.
She turned and hurried upstairs and into the bedroom, grabbing a towel from the closet before heading into the bathroom. As she closed the door behind her, she let the clothes and towels drop to the floor, her knees buckling beneath her. These people, the ones that wanted to be her family, were nice. Too nice. One day, he would come for her. He always found her, and when he did, she would have to stop him from hurting her nice people.
They loved her.
—SfH—
As soon as she heard the door to the bathroom clothes, Alice fell onto the couch, wrapping her arms around herself. Tears burned her eyes, and though she tried to be strong, to keep them from falling, she felt them sprinkle down her cheeks.
"You okay, Al?" Edward asked, drawing everyone's attention to him.
"No," she whimpered, feeling her lips trembling. "She thought she . . . she thought she had to earn clothes? What the fuck kind if bullshit is that? He . . . He . . ." Alice couldn't think straight. "I'm sorry. I just . . . wanted to help her. You know give her something that would be hers, something she could own. She deserves to own clothes, to . . . to . . . I didn't think she would think she . . . had to earn them?"
"Hey, Al, calm down," Esme murmured, hurrying over and wrapping her arms around her.
"Alice, honey, you did nothing wrong," Peter said, drawing everyone's attention to him. He smiled sadly and placed his hands on his hips. "Here's what you have to understand about Bella, okay? For the last eight years, every aspect of her life has been in the hands of the person who kidnapped her. He's made her dependent on him. That's why she always looks toward Carlisle or Edward for guidance, because she has been conditioned to seek their approval."
"Are you saying she sees us like . . . him?" Edward asked, his face contorting in horror.
"No, no, no, of course not," Peter backtracked. "I'm saying that Bella needs people in her life right now who are . . . going to take control, yet give her control back. Does that make sense?"
But before anyone could reply, the front door opened and Emmett hurried in. Alice found herself standing, the look on his face had her anxious and nervous. "Who was that? Was it Jay?"
Emmet nodded. "He said Emily Young killed herself this morning, after . . . after he talked to her. He said," he whimpered, shaking his head. Rosalie was immediately by his side, wrapping him in her arms.
Rosalie had been hard for them to get to know. Alice hadn't cared much for her, finding her cold, heartless, and a bit of a bitch, but after learning about Bella's abduction and her parents' murders, she empathized with her, though she hadn't really understood. Her parents were alive and well, living the good life in Mississippi, and her little sister was about to graduate high school. Alice couldn't imagine how fast Rosalie had had to grow up at the age of twelve, losing everyone she had ever loved because a sick, twisted pedophile thought her eight year old sister was fresh meat.
"Sorry." Emmett blew out a thick, heavy breath. "He said it wasn't . . . wasn't just molestation. Sam Uley raped Emily and Leah multiple times before they went to the tribal council, who of course did jackshit stop the son-of-a-bitch."
"Was Jay okay?" Alice asked, causing Emmett to look at her.
"No," Emmett admitted. "But yes, too. He, um, said he's sending a couple patrol cars to sit outside the house."
"Why?" Edward asked, slowly standing up. "Does he think he knows where she is?"
"Maybe," Emmett said, sadly. "Just said nobody can leave until he gives us the all clear."
Alice wrapped her arm around herself as she dug her phone out of her pocket. Tears burned her eyes as she found him under her text messages and sent two simple, yet heavy-meaning words to the love of her life: Be Safe.
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