A/N: Because today is my birthday, I thought I'd give all of you a very special gift. Jasper.
Enjoy xoxo
– Bella's POV –
When the sun disappeared behind a big, fluffy cloud—as it usually does in Forks—and the temperature dropped, I said goodbye to the sunshine.
It would likely be the last time I sit out in the garden. Charlie told me last month that he expects me to leave his home after I graduate high school. He doesn't care where I go, but I can't stay in his home or his town.
So, he won't let me graduate early and go to college, but he's kicking me out of his house and running me out of town the moment I graduate!
Father of the year right there!
I can understand sending your kids off into the world, it's a rite of passage, but to tell me I can't even remain in the same town as him . . .
All my previous fears and doubts about my parents not wanting me were confirmed in one quick conversation as Charlie was getting another beer out of the fridge.
I'm as unwanted now as I was when I was six.
Charlie has no intention or desire to form a relationship with me. He has his own life. A good career. A decent house. Friends who love him. A town that adores him. Women that, for lord knows what reason, fawn all over him. Trust me, he ain't that good-looking! But I've seen the way women are with him! And I've seen the way he is with them. Especially Sue Clearwater!
Harry Clearwater is one of Charlie's best friends. Supposedly. I'm not sure why they're friends, after all, I've seen the way Charlie stares at Harry's wife! He's always the first to volunteer when she needs something. He helps out at the La Push bonfires and barbeques. He's always touching her or she's touching him. No. Touching isn't the right word. Caressing! It's intimate. Tender. Loving.
Most nights, he's at the Clearwater's house. He spends his weekends fishing or hunting with Harry. Well, that's what he's told me. I'm not sure if it's the truth or an excuse.
Over the summer they all went away and conveniently forgot to invite me. It's probably a stupid question because I likely know the answer, but how do you forget your daughter is living with you and might have liked the opportunity to go away with her father and those he considers family?
Oh, wait, never mine. I remember!
He spends all his free time with Seth and Leah. He helps Seth with his homework every night. He taught him to play baseball. He taught Leah to drive. And then took her to get her driver's license. He was there when she went to prom. He was there to cheer her on when she graduated. When she and her boyfriend broke up, he went to visit her every day. The three of them have a standing dinner date every Wednesday. And if they can't go to a restaurant, I'm forced to leave the house or stay up in my bedroom like some fuckin' diseased leper so they can have dinner together!
He knows everything there is to know about those two kids, and yet can't remember his own daughter's birthday? Seriously?
Maybe it's my imagination. Maybe I'm jealous and insecure, lord knows I have reason to be! Or, it could be I have two step-siblings. . .
How Harry doesn't see it or question it, I have no idea! Then again, maybe he knows his wife is bonking his best friend behind his back. Hell, maybe he's into that. Cuckolding is pretty popular. Maybe Harry's not up to snuff so Charlie took over.
Whatever their deal is, I'm never going to know the truth. It's been made clear that I'm not wanted in Charlie's life.
. . .
. . .
. . .
I'm sorry. I know it's all kinda doom and gloom around here. Let's be honest, there's no point whining about it, is there? Nothing's going to change. After seventeen years, you'd think I'd be used to feeling this way by now.
Let's get back to something I can change, shall we?
Recently, I've been trying not to make decisions.
When your best friend is a seer and your boyfriend is a telepath, making plans for the future—that doesn't include your abusive boyfriend—isn't easy.
Somehow, I'm able to keep Edward out of my head. Now, I've got no idea how I do that, but I've never been more grateful to have a silent mind! It's fabulous. All my thoughts are kept secret from the intrusive Edward Cullen! He, of course, hates my silent mind.
So, I figure, I just need to figure out a way to block Alice's visions. Life will be so much easier if I can keep them both out of my head. I still can't put my finger on it, but there's something about that little gnome I don't trust!
I think I might be able to keep her out. It just takes a lot of concentration. One slip, on my part, and Alice sees everything.
I've been practicing since the ballet studio incident in March. I was able to make a few last-minute decisions that Alice didn't see in time and Edward was unable to stop. It wasn't anything drastic. Just little things like going to a movie with Angela. Or having dinner with Jessica and Mike. Nothing bad or dangerous, just things on Edward's no-no list.
Yeah, there's a list.
Back in July, while the whole family was preparing for the fourth of July firework show Emmett likes to put on, I made my first attempt at escaping Forks and Edward. Then, at the last minute, my concentration slipped, Alice saw, and Edward stopped me.
Alice, bless her, apologized profusely afterward. She even gave me a few tips on how to get around her visions so Edward doesn't see.
I wondered if it would just be easier to tell Carlisle or Esme what's been going on. If not the leaders of their Coven, maybe Emmett or even Rosalie! But Alice said it would be useless. That, more than likely, they'd side with Edward and not me, despite having Alice on my side. And, you know, the truth!
Edward has Carlisle wrapped around his finger. All he has to do is whine to his father and he'll fold like a paper napkin. The rest of them are scared of Edward. Seems I'm not the only one he's terrorizing. The difference is, I'm only human. They're deadly vampires who should be strong enough to deal with Edward's tantrums.
After my first attempt and failure, I made it my mission in life to find a way to block Alice. But the more I practiced, the more volatile Edward became. He was like a caged animal, pacing back and forth outside my house waiting to pounce.
He began following me. Showing up at my house or hiding in the forest waiting for me to leave. At one point he even tampered with my truck so I couldn't drive and I was forced to be driven around like a child!
To my complete surprise, someone fixed my truck! I woke up one morning to the sound of her purring like a happy, content kitten. I have no idea who did it, but I will be forever thankful to them!
Just that one small act, gave me hope.
So, in August, I tried escaping again. This time I made it to Seattle before he found me and dragged me home.
Keeping my mind focused on not making decisions, while also simultaneously making decisions is a lot harder than it sounds!
At the beginning of the month, my senior year started. To my utter delight, the entire first week of school was sunny. Every day! Forks was flooded with sunshine. I'm starting to think someone up there is on my side! Mother Nature, maybe? God? Buddha? The Fates? Who knows. Whoever's in charge of sunny days, I will bow down to them and kiss their feet!
The second week of school was just as sunny as the first! Seems Forks was having a heatwave!
As much as I hate the sparkling these vamps do, it was a blessing right now! No vampire interference for eight wonderful hours every day for two school weeks!
Since the sun was such an issue for the Cullens, Carlisle decided they were going to go on a family hunting trip! All of them were required to go, not like they had anything better to do, anyway.
I'm still shocked they got Edward to go with them! But then, he hadn't fed in at least a month. His eyes were blacker than they'd ever been and he was so much more volatile and aggressive. I think, when Esme noticed how much time he spent with his nose buried in my hair or licking my throat, she had words with Carlisle, who insisted Edward needed to hunt.
He agreed to go, on one condition. I needed a babysitter.
A BABYSITTER!
I'm almost eighteen years old!
He keeps insisting I'm not safe with anyone but him, that he's the only one that can protect me.
Protect me from what; that's my question.
Do I need protection from something other than my overly possessive, obsessed, violent, abusive boyfriend?
Thankfully, Carlisle put his foot down. Seems the man might have some balls after all. Even if they were just teeny tiny.
So, it was decided, the whole family would go hunting. And I would stay home. Alone.
It's been the most amazing, peaceful week of my life!
How sad is that?
They'll be back tomorrow night, in time for school on Monday.
Now, you're probably wondering why I didn't just run as soon as they left. It does seem like the perfect opportunity. And I was considering it. But Alice asked me to stay. She insisted, while they were away was a better time to practice blocking her visions. I was getting better, but I was nowhere near perfect.
After carefully considering my options, I figured she was probably right. Practicing is the only way I'm going to get any better. And that's the only way I'm going to be able to remain hidden from Edward.
Somehow, I'm able to block Edward's gift. If I can do that, it's reasonable to think I could also block out other gifts, right? I just needed practice. And the Cullen's hunting trip gave me the time I needed.
I've done a little research, though it's not been easy. All I have to go on is what's on television, movies, books, and cartoons. But, strangely enough, I have found something that seems similar to what I can do. It's called a Psychic Shield. The ability to be highly resistant to psychic attacks, such as telepathy.
Sound familiar?
Yeah, I thought so, too.
From what I've learned, I should be able to block out all telepathic gifts, as well as Alice's visions, and, possibly even Jasper's empathy. And, if I was powerful enough, I might even be able to block others from Edward's gift.
Of course, as a human, I'm never going to be as powerful as I could be as an immortal. But it looks like that's not an option for me. Edward has spoken and none of the Cullens are going to go against his wishes.
It's not like this is my life or anything.
Maybe in their world, it's perfectly acceptable for men to dictate what a woman does. And yes, that's pretty similar to the human world, too. But it's not going to fly with this woman. No matter what world I'm in.
If Edward Cullen thinks for one moment he's broken me, he's wrong.
So very, very wrong.
I am Isabella Swan.
I am a woman.
I am powerful.
And I will not be dictated to by a little boy.
Whatever is inside of me—this new darkness I've been feeling—she's growing stronger every day. Gaining more and more power and awareness.
I can feel her stirring in the deepest depths of my mind.
She's almost ready to emerge.
Change is coming.
Soon. Very soon.
– XOXO –
When my belly began to grumble, I made a quick lunch. Nothing fancy. Just an easy salad. I filled a bowl with crisp, cold lettuce, already prepared kale, baby spinach, and arugula. I added half a dozen sliced baby tomatoes and sliced cucumber. Then for the leftovers. Yesterday, I roasted bell peppers and red onions so I tossed in those, too. I had half an apple left, so I thinly sliced that and added the handful of grapes that needed to be eaten before they went bad. I drizzled the salad with delicious, runny tahini and tossed it until every bite was smothered. Then added the leftover cauliflower chickpea curry from last night to the top. I finished it off with a whole avocado and tossed in some croutons. Never forget the croutons. They're the best part.
Delicious!
While I ate, I vegged out on the couch and watched two episodes of Lost Girl. A Canadian supernatural drama. Bo, the protagonist is a bisexual succubus.
After two episodes, I was bored and done watching Bo and Lauren fuck. Love me some Dr. Lauren, but I'm a Dyson girl. Well, except when Vex shows up. Mm. That man is all kinds of gorgeous. Dark, dangerous, sexy. A little bit evil. My kind of man.
I needed to pump. My breasts were full and tender. I also needed to get some reading done and I wanted to finish the sketch I'd started a couple of weeks ago. I ran upstairs to grab my sketchbook, but I couldn't find it in my bedroom. I searched everywhere. Then I checked the living room. The kitchen. Even Charlie's room. But it wasn't anywhere.
I checked my truck, but it wasn't there either.
I must've left it at the Cullens.
Damn.
I'd have to go over there and get it.
Sighing, I quickly threw on a blue and white polka dot sundress with ruffle cap sleeves over my bikini. It was short, showing off a lot of leg and just a hint of cleavage.
I slipped my feet into a pair of white flip-flops, grabbed my keys and my purse, and headed for the door.
Charlie won't be home until tomorrow evening. He said he was fishing, but I have my doubts about that. Either way, I was free to do whatever I wished for the entire weekend, much like any ordinary weekend, I guess.
My truck was on her last legs. I'm not sure she'll make it until graduation. She chugged and huffed and made strange screeching noises as I steered her toward the Cullen home. I don't know anything about cars, but I'm fairly sure those weren't normal sounds.
A couple of weeks ago, I asked Jacob Black to take a look at her and tell me what needed to be done and what kind of cost I was looking at. I didn't expect him to do the work. He's a fifteen-year-old boy! I just wanted to know how much it might cost me. I figured he was the best person to ask as I bought the truck from his father, Billy when I first moved to Forks. Jacob was the one who did all the repairs. Seems to me like he knew what he was doing and might be willing to help me. I don't know Jacob that well, but I've seen him around and he seemed like a good kid.
Apparently, I was wrong.
When he finally got back to me, he practically bit my head off and told me just because Charlie's my father and friends with his father doesn't mean I'm entitled to anything from him.
I never thought it did. I asked a simple question.
He went on to call me a few colorful names. Told me how awful he thinks I am. That I'm a traitor to my people. And that I'm not welcome on Quileute land. If I ever cross the border, his pack will deal with me.
His pack?
What the fuck is that?
Here I thought, the Quileute people were a nice, Native American, peaceful tribe. Apparently, their younger members are in a gang!
He told me Charlie didn't need a daughter like me in his life, that he doesn't want me, he never has, and that he wished Renee had 'dealt with the problem' when she had the chance. He bitched about my mother. Called her a whore and a gold digger. Then told me I'm just like her, and he's surprised I'm not knocked up by now because rumor has it, I've spread my legs for all of Forks. I'm nothing but trouble and don't deserve to bare the Swan name.
He called me a slut and a whore and told me if I know what was good for me, I'd leave poor Charlie alone and get out of town before he changes his mind and deals with me himself. He then implied he'd rape me first. Have fun with me. He overheard Charlie telling Billy and Harry I'm having sex with the entire town of Forks, so when he passes me around his pack, it won't be anything I'm not used to and up for.
. . .
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. . .
Uh-huh.
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. . .
So, Charlie thinks I'm a whore who'll spread her legs for anyone and is busy discussing my, apparently, very active sex life with his best friends.
He wishes Renee had an abortion.
And the youngsters in La Push are in a gang.
Oh, and Jacob Black threatened to rape me and pass me around to the members of his gang.
I mean, really?
What the hell is wrong with these people? Are they putting a bit too much crazy in their morning Wheaties?
Who the hell makes a threat like that?
Why is it, everyone I've come across in Forks is off their fuckin' rocker?
Is it me?
Am I the crazy one?
Or do I just attract them?
Whatever Jacob's deal was, he obviously wasn't going to help me.
And no, I'm not that worried about his threat.
Maybe I should be. Rape is a horrible, heinous crime and nobody deserves such a thing to happen to them. It's something everyone should take seriously. Especially when a fifteen-year-old threatens you and it's very unlikely your cop father—who adores said fifteen-year-old—is going to believe your accusations.
But, if the little bastard comes near me, I've got my pepper spray, my taser, and if need be, access to all of Charlie's guns. I'll happily shoot the fucker in the balls if he thinks he's going to rape me!
I'm prepared. I've taken precautions. From the moment of our disturbing conversation, everywhere I've gone, I've carried my pepper spray, taser, and one of Charlie's guns. He keeps the damn things all over the house, so I picked one and stashed it in my purse! It may not be legal, but at least I'm safe.
If Jacob Black or anyone else thinks for one moment living with Renee hasn't taught me to be prepared for any eventuality, they're sorely mistaken.
Since I couldn't count on Jacob or Charlie to help with my truck, I'd have to do it myself. Nothing new there.
If I had the money, I'd part with the old girl and get something I know isn't going to crap out on me. Unfortunately, my funds are lacking and there was no way I was going to ask one of my parents for help. Not that I believe either of them would anyway.
Edward refused to ride around in the old girl, which was fine by me. He was constantly whining about her age, her speed, the rust, and anything else he could think of. He wanted to buy me a sleek, European sports car. There was no way I'd allow that. Not after the way he ridiculed and turned his nose up at my truck.
I love my beast.
She's big and robust and nothing was going to damage her.
Had things turned out differently with me and Edward, I might have given in and allowed him to buy me something new. But as it was, I felt if I allowed such a thing, it would likely become something he'd hold over my head. He bought me a car therefore I would be indebted to him.
That wasn't about to happen.
I've come to the conclusion that Edward never wanted me to bend to his will. He wanted to break me. To tear everything away from me so that I would become completely reliant on him.
Like hell that was about to happen.
If that's the kind of girl he wanted, he was looking in the wrong direction.
Isabella Swan bends for no man!
As soon as I pulled into the Cullens drive, the little hairs on the back of my neck stood on end.
Something wasn't right.
The garage doors were open, but all four cars were gone.
There was a black, sleek motorbike parked on the driveway. As far as I know, none of the Cullens own a motorbike. I can't imagine any of them riding one.
Beside the gorgeous motorbike was a matching black truck. All sleek and shiny, with blacked-out windows, so dark I couldn't see into the truck from the outside. And, unfortunately, my knowledge of vehicles is limited. Four doors. Four wheels. And a long truck bed. I couldn't tell you much more than that.
Now, I suppose, the smart thing to do would be to back out of the driveway and go home.
My sketchbook could wait.
The Cullens obviously had visitors. If they were even home. They weren't supposed to be home until tomorrow evening. And if they are home, where the hell are their cars?
Every instinct I had was screaming at me that something wasn't right here and I needed to leave.
So, what did I do?
Yes, that's right.
You know me so well.
I put my truck in park, turned off the ignition, and opened my door to head inside.
It was eerily quiet as I walked up the porch and reached for the front door. I wasn't surprised it was unlocked. The Cullens never locked their doors. But then, what idiot is going to burgle a vampire's home?
Maybe another vampire?
Even if the humans of this town don't know the Cullens are vampires, most of them are intimidated by the unusual family, or scared of them.
Opening the front door, the house was silent.
"Helloooo?" I called. "Esme? Carlisle? Are you home?"
There was no answer.
I took a breath and stepped into the house, closing the door behind me. Slowly, I made my way through the foyer and towards the living room.
"You haven't seen my sketchbook, have you?" I called, wondering if maybe I should be quiet.
You never know, maybe Emmett bought a motorcycle . . .
That doesn't explain the truck. None of the Cullens seem like the type to drive a truck. They were more the fancy sports car kind. Something German or Italian or . . . I don't know, French.
Do the French make cars?
They must do, right?
Maybe the LeCar?
I don't know.
I don't speak French.
Hmm. LeCar does sound familiar, though . . .
I wonder where I've heard it before . . .
Perhaps now isn't the best time to be thinking of French cars . . .
I guess the truck could have been an impulse buy. I suppose. Though I can think of half a dozen things Alice would rather buy than a pickup truck.
It seemed more . . . Jasper than the Cullens.
. . .
. . .
. . .
Let's hope Jasper's home and I'm not walking in on a vampire cat burglar . . .
. . .
. . .
. . .
The downstairs was empty. No signs of life. All of Esme's tchotchkes, silverware, artwork, and various other expensive pieces were still in place.
Nothing had been stolen.
Slowly, as quietly as I could, I made my way upstairs. I checked all the bedrooms and under the beds, but nobody was hiding there.
As I came to Jasper's study—a room I'd never been inside before—I gave the door a gentle push. There was nobody inside. But, like with all the other rooms, I checked, just to be sure. Never know who's hiding under the bed or in a closet.
There was nobody. Under the bed or otherwise.
I was just turning to leave when I heard a creak behind me. "Bella." The sound of his voice was deep, sexy, and sensual and had my whole-body tingling with awareness.
A thrill of excitement and pure happiness shot through me and I spun around, unprepared for the sight of him.
He was naked, save for the white fluffy towel wrapped around his waist.
And dripping wet.
Oh, Christ on a Christmas cracker!
He looked good.
Really good.
And wet.
Dripping . . .
Wet . . .
He was formed like a Greek God—leonine and muscular, broad-shouldered, with six-pack abs, a cute little belly button, and that incredibly sexy, deep V of his hips that dipped below the towel and led to areas unknown and unexplored. At least by me.
Has he always been so tall? His legs were long and muscular. But not thick. Not skinny poles, either. He was just kinda perfect.
Those long, strong arms—the same arms that had held me and provided so much tenderness and safety in the ballet studio—were flexed and ready to strike at whatever enemy dared attack him.
How is it possible for one man to be so unbelievably sexy?
Shouldn't he leave a little sexy for all the other men in the world?
A smirk spread across his gorgeous lips. Without a word, before I even realized he'd moved, I was in his arms, pressed against him. My hands lay flat against his muscular, bare chest as I marveled at how normal he felt. Not cold. Or hard. Just normal. His skin was soft but textured due to his scars. And he was warm. So, very warm. Not quite human; I was still warmer than him. But it wasn't uncomfortable or noteworthy. And nowhere near Edward's arctic tundra temperature.
One of his hands slid into my hair, his fingers tangling with my long locks as he gently, but firmly pulled my face closer to his.
I couldn't help the sigh that left my lips. My scalp was tingling where his fingers pressed against my skull. He wasn't rough nor was his hold painful. There was a slight pressure but, mostly, it just felt all kinds of wonderful.
His right hand rested on my hip, holding me flush against his body as his lips descended upon mine.
It was unexpected, but certainly not unwelcome.
And as first kisses went, well, O.M.G, it was a doozy . . .
The kiss started slow and innocent. Like long-lost lovers reuniting after too much time apart. As a soft sigh left my lips, he took full advantage and deepened the kiss.
My god.
It was good.
Slow.
Sensual.
But full of fire and passion.
The feel of his tongue caressing mine was exquisite. I've never felt anything more amazing. And it had me wondering what else he could do with his talented tongue.
A possessive rumble rolled through his chest and vibrated through me, awakening the deepest, darkest part of me. As if, somehow, he was calling to her.
The moment she rose, my body bowed against his. My hands slid up his chest, enjoying the feel of him, as I deepened our kiss. I needed more of him.
She needed him.
My hands came to his broad shoulders and then teased the little hairs at the back of his neck, making him groan against my lips.
When he broke our kiss, my body swayed against the passion of it. Breathing hard, panting, I pressed my forehead to his chest as I tried to catch my breath. My hands fell to rest on his sides, then lower to his hips.
"Jasper . . ." I breathed.
"I'm here, Darlin'." His hands glided up and down my spine.
"You left . . ."
I guess I'm not too good at realizing my feelings. Either that or I'm really good at keeping them bottled up. Either way, I hadn't realized how much his leaving affected me.
It hurt.
After the ballet studio . . . everything changed. And I needed him. I can't explain why, but it was like . . . without him here there was a massive part of me missing.
"I didn't leave ya, Darlin'."
Frowning, I lifted my head to look up at him. Our eyes met and I finally noticed the color of his eyes. They were no longer the deep butterscotch, but a gorgeous, brilliant crimson.
The color suited him.
"You weren't here . . ."
"Are you scared?" He asked, his hand cupping my cheek as his fingers gently brushed against my pulse point. He didn't need to feel my pulse to know it was racing.
But it wasn't out of fear.
"You weren't here . . ." I repeated.
Another sexy smirk spread across those gorgeous lips as he leaned forward and kissed the tip of my nose. "I was about to take a shower, would you care to join me, mate?"
. . .
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. . .
Holy hell. I think my brain just liquified.
. . .
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. . .
Jasper.
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Shower.
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Naked.
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Wet.
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Caressing.
. . . .
. . .
. . .
Maybe . . .
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. . .
Wait . . . back the fuck up . . .
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Did he say mate?
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