The Ring of Fire
"Yer bleedin'."
It was the first thing Edward said since they'd been thrown in the tiny cell of the Forks Town Jail. Hard to tell how long they'd been in this cell. Long enough for the sun to have gone down and rise again. Long enough to get 'em twitchin', eager for someone to put them outta their misery. The floor was dust and the walls solid wood with a single window too high and narrow to escape from. Just them and the metal bars that kept them inside.
Of course, there was the Deputy as well. He hadn't said much, just pushed them along while he kept one hand on his gun and the other on his reins. There was an aura to him that commanded respect, and also commanded that no one cross him. He looked like the type to shoot first and ask questions later.
With all the fear and excitement from the chase, Edward hadn't much time to check in with Jasper. He should'a. Cause now Jasper was bleedin' from his shoulder, his shirt stained red and his face goin' pale from the loss.
"It's not too bad," Jasper lied, his words a little too slurred for Edward's liking.
Not too bad - Edward's rear. Jasper was swayin' like a corpse on the gallows. If he wasn't sittin', he'd've fallen over flat on his face. Carlisle needed to tend to that wound and soon if Jasper wanted to stave off infection. Shoulder was a bad enough place to get shot in without the hassle of fever.
They wouldn't have to wait any longer.
The door to the outside creaked open and in walked the Sheriff. He looked bedraggled, beard scraggly and unkept. Like he had spent the night at the saloon. And perhaps he had ; Edward wasn't on to judge a vice.
The Sheriff stopped at their cell, his hands on his sunbelt. He eyed up Edward mighty fierce, his mustache twitchin' like a horse's tail - irritated and riled.
"Y'all wanna tell me why old Billy Black found y'all fleein' the scene of a crime?"
Black. Jacob's father. No wonder the old man looked so familiar. It was the nose - strong and sharp - that gave it away. So the son was a gentleman adn the father fancied playin' cop? What an interestin' family.
"It's not what it looks like, Sir - " Jasper tried.
"I don't give a damn what it looks like! Y'all were breakin' inta the town bank like a right couple a thieves!" the Sheriff shouted, his voice echoin' off the walls. "Two Sundays in a month that bank was robbed...if I was a gamblin' man I'd say there's a pattern and y'all were guilty as sin. Gimme one good reason why I shouldn't see ya hang."
Edward dreamed of the rope. It swung off the branches of an old oak tree in an old field, callin' him to it. He doubted he'd see anythin' so nice here. Maybe a few bedraggled, dusty faces before he died in this dusty brown desert. His body couldn't be buried in land like this. Too tough. Too unforgiving. He'd be left to rot, food for the carrions to feast upon.
No. That would not be his end.
"We was just having some fun," Edward tried, hopin' he didn't sound as desperate as his ears heard. "You know us, Sir. We ain't no robbers."
The Earth should open up and swallow him whole for all these lies, but Edward never counted himself a good man. He was a coward. And he didn't wanna hang.
The Sheriff stopped pacin', his hands on his holsters. He eyed up Edward mighty fierce, his mustache twitchin' like a horse's tail - irritated and riled.
"No. Some damn fool robbers you'd make. We've been lookin' for a gang, some real hardened criminals, not two knuckle-headed kids with a couple sticks a dynamite." The Sheriff sighed and pinched his nose, tired from chasin' his tail. Edward'd felt bad for him if he'd not locked he and Jasper up. "Yer Daddy aughta whip ya till your hides are black n' blue. And after all yer sainted momma's done to give y'all a better life, this how you repay her kindness? Y'all should be ashamed of yerselves."
"Yessir, we are mighty shamed of ourselves. It's in our blood, causin' trouble. Didn't count on gettin' caught."
"Y'all never do."
"Sir, we did wrong by you and we apologize for our shenanigans, but were you aware the safe was empty?"
He didn't say a word - just stroked his mustache, troubled. It was hard to tell what the man was thinkin'; his emotions remained a stoic and grim at all times. Then he looked Edward dead in the eye and said, "I understand ya saved my daughter from bandits."
So, the Sheriff knew bout that. Jacob must'a told him. Lord only knew the lies Hell's Bells was tellin' to keep her hands clean. But she didn't lie about him. Interesting.
"Yessir."
The Sheriff pulled the key ring off his belt.
"For that reason and that reason alone, I'm lettin' y'all go." He stuck the key in the lock and turned it, the door openin' with a metal scream. "If it were up to me, I'd see ya whipped for yer insolence. Stealin' from the town bank...what were y'all thinkin'? Yer daddy raised ya better."
"Yessir he did."
"We weren't thinkin' at all, Sir," Jasper added, his head down low and ashamed.
"Clearly not. Now get the hell outta here and get that shoulder patched 'fore I let you spend the week in here." He stepped aside so the boys could shuffle out one at a time. "Get on, scram! And don't let me catch y'all near that bank again or I'll shoot!"
Edward didn't doubt it. His fingers itched for their guns, hopin' for a target. Edward wanted to aim that misguided fury towards the Trackers. Those bastards had been part a their capture, Edward felt it in his bones. Whatever was goin' on, he and Jasper was caught in its crossfire.
Jasper wasn't fit to walk the way back to the house. Thankfully their horses had been hitched and watered out back behind the jail. Delilah and Ghost didn't look none too pleased to see either of their wayward riders. In fact, Delilah nearly bit Edward as he tried to untie her from the post.
"You can curse me later," he told her, none too pleased with her either. "Right now we gotta get Jasper home."
What a funny notion, home. That house outside a town was no home, no matter how badly Edward wanted it to be. There was no dog, no rockin' chair on the front porch or flowers in a vase on the kitchen table. No one was makin' pies after the first day.
The Cullens simply weren't meant to be a real family.
Edward took the reins from Jasper and led Ghost down the town road. People looked their way, tippin' their hats to talk to their neighbors. Word musta spread that the Cullen boys had spent the night in jail. Edward normally didn't mind a bit a gossip aimed his way, but this made his hackles rise. The more spotlight on him and the family, the harder this whole endeavor would be.
The house looked downright empty when Edward arrived out front. Only the sound of horses in the field out back let him know someone was lurkin' round somewhere. Another reason this was a not a home. Home shouldn't set yer teeth on edge, make yer heart beat quicker the closer ya get to walkin' inside.
The door still creaked. It gave he and Jasper away, ripe for the pickin'. Carlisle musta been waitin'. Soon as the two of 'em were through the door, the old man was up and outta his chair, makin' haste their way.
He threw Edward against the wall, mad and spittin' as a snake.
"What the hell happened?" Carlisle demanded.
They'd gained quite an audience. Everyone had made their way outta their hidey-holes to witness the beatin'.
"Oh dear Lord!" Esme cried as she saw the blood on Jasper's shirt. She ran to him and held him upright, hobblin' towards the nearest chair. "Carlisle help this boy!"
He ignored her. He only had eyes for Edward.
"We were tricked," Edward said, outta breath but not willin' to break down in front of Carlisle. "The bank was empty. Hell's Bells musta moved it. We were sittin' ducks for the pickin', the Trackers included."
"Lord above…" Esme gasped, one hand goin' to cover her mouth. She crossed herself too for good measure.
"Jasper was shot. Shoulder. He'll be out for the real job, granted we get a third shot at the gold if we can even find it," Edward said, tryin' his hardest to sound even when he wanted to spit fire in Carlisle's face. "Unless you've seen sense and we can leave this hellhole."
"I can patch a shoulder. What I can't patch are these damn Trackers!" Carlisle let Edward go with a shake, takin' up pacin' the hall back and forth like a man possessed. "Damn you Hell's Bells! I never shoulda let you talk me into savin' her."
"It's more complicated than that and you know it!"
"All I know is that you've got yerself tangled up with that little hellion and it's caused us nothin' but heartache!" Carlisle accused. "So what is it Eddie boy? Are ya in love with her? Do ya fancy yerself her equal, her partner in crime?"
"Stop it," Esme snapped, grabbin' at Carlisle's arm. "Yer bein' cruel."
"He owes me this. Jasper - our demolitions man - is shot. We lost our chance at the bank and now the gold is lost," Carlisle hissed, wormin' his way outta Esme's grasp to shove a finger under Edward's nose. "So tell me, boy, do you care for Hell's Bells."
"It hardly matters."
"Oh it matters - "
"The Trackers have their eyes on us. My best guess is they were usin' us as bait to draw Hell's Bells out to the bank. They don't care which of us gets hurt so long as they get their kill. If we were smart, we'd align with Hell's Bells instead of fightin' her and the Trackers both."
"Now ain't that just the queerest thing I ever did hear." Carlisle laughed, but it was a cruel thing. "I must'a had somethin' in my ear cause it sounded like you wanted us to work with the woman who ruined our reputation."
"She can't stop 'em on her own and we won't ever get 'em off our backs until she does," Edward said plainly, tired of tryin' to sweet talk Carlilse into seein' sense. "The only thing stoppin' us is our pride. Your pride. So you tell me straight old man - what is yer problems with Hell's Bells? What is driving this cattle prod so far up yer ass that you ain't thinkin' straight?"
The whole house caught its breath. Edward wasn't sure if Carlisle was gonna hit him or walk out. Sure as hell wasn't expectin' him to collapse on the kitchen chair, head in his hands lookin' weary as a dead man.
"I's the one who set the Trackers on Hell's Bells."
"Mother a God," Emmett muttered, crossin' himself like the good Baptist he ain't. Had everyone in this house taken up religion while he was in jail?
"Why?" Edward demanded.
"Why? Because she's a no good pain our neck who need'd to git gone," Carlisle snapped. "I caught word the Trackers were passin' through and thought to kill two birds with one stone."
"Look at the good that's done us!"
"This was 'fore I knew who Hell's Bells was!" Carlisle defended himself. "You think I'm stupid 'nough to send the Sheriff's daughter out to pasture? I may have greed in bones, boy, but I've been at this game a lot longer than you."
More about Carlisle's reaction the day Bella was shot made sense. Edward thought the old man was stunned to see such violence in a sleepy town. Instead, he was seein' his carefully laid plan fall to shit.
"The only thing we can do now is locate the gold and run for it. This town's 'bout to turn into a massacre."
"Screw the gold!" It was Emmett who shouted this time, breakin' his steadfast silence. Rosalie had her hand on his arm, her face set in grim lines. "We need to do somethin' fore we all meet our maker."
"If we leave now this all've been for nothin'." Carlisle would die on this hill. He could not give it up. "Don't you see, boy? The Trackers took everythin' from us. Once word gets out were were bested not once but twice, we're done for. Our reputations are dust. Might as well throw in the towel, cause ain't no outlaw west a the Mississippi gon take us serious. We're through."
"At least we will live to see another day," Alice said softly.
She had migrated to Jasper's side, tendin' to his wound with gentle presses of her cloth. Her doe eyes glistened with unshed tears. It musta been tearin' Jasper up to see her this way. He kept his mouth shut and let her fuss, somethin' he'd never let Esme do.
"Trackers ain't gonna let us leave, not without Hell's Bells. They'll pick us off one by one 'til there's none of us left and we won't even see 'em comin'," Emmett said. "We've got no choice but to stand and fight."
That got everyone quiet real quick.
"Emmett - "
"You fucked us over good and plenty old man. Your word is moot," Edward silenced him. He locked eyes with his brother. He had always been the thinker, the planner, and Emmett was the muscle. Emmett thought with his fists, but for the first time, his and Edward's ideas aligned. "I say we put it to a vote."
That was how they did things on the road. Everythin' was a vote. Then they came to Forks and it was Carlisle's way or the highway. Well, no more.
"All in favor of bringin' a fight to the Trackers?"
Emmett's hand went up along with Rosalie's. Edward raised his own as well.
"Now all in favor of runnin' the course and hopin' we make it through the year?"
Carlisle raised his hand and Esme, loyal as she was, had no choice but to support her man. Strange 'nough, Alice raised her hand as well.
Jasper gave her a wounded look.
"Ya already took one bullet darlin," she said, lettin' a single tear fall. "I couldn't bear it to see ya take any more."
"Jasper, it's your call," Edward said.
He wouldn't blame his brother for not wantin' to take another bullet. It was a hard thing to do, to stand up to the person who took ya in and gave ya a new life. But they'd more than made up for that kindness. Now they had to do what was right for themselves. Jasper knew that, deep down.
That's why he hung his head low and sighed as he said, "I'll fight."
Alice jumped up from his side and ran out the house. She was likely hidin' in the barn with the horses. Her safe space. She'd be fine come mornin'. She hated conflict. She just needed time.
"There you have it," Edward said, unable to stop the grim grin of victory from sweep'n over his face. "Get your guns ready. We're gearin' up for a fight."