Paint It Black
"Just where do ya think yer sneakin' off to?"
It was Rosalie who caught him out early that next morn, hands on her hips as she poked her head out the kitchen. There was flour on her cheeks and in her hair. Dark circles under her eyes told Edward she hadn't slept a lick. Likely up all night, preparin' for the worst. Or arguin' with Emmett, likely 'bout the worst.
If they'd argued, they'd kept their voices tame. Edward slept like the dead after Hell's Bells left. Now, as the sun broke over the horizon, Edward felt reborn. He'd woken a new man.
Still, there was some business his old self needed tend to. There was somewhere he needed to be.
"Not to worry. I'll be back by week's end."
"It was yer idea to plan a coup!" she hissed, thrustin' a spoon his at his chest. "How ya gon help us if yer runnin' off to God knows where?"
"Gotta catch a train, Rose," he said, hands raised in peace. "Just gimme a day. That's all I ask. I promise it's important."
"That brain a yers makes no damn sense," she cursed, shakin' her head. "Go. Do what needs to be done. But if we're dead by the time you return, you'll know what got us."
"Trackers ain't gon git ya without Hell's Bells 'round to cause a fuss."
"And this train's gonna take care of Hell's Bells?" she asked, her brow archin' sky high. She never placed much faith in him, not even when his plans used to work.
"If I know her like I do, then it will."
"Alrighty then." This was not a fight she could win, not when she was pulled in Emmett's direction. She only had mind to take care of one man, and she never much cared for Edward. "I'll keep Emmett and Jasper away from trouble while yer gone. We can scrounge up some dynamite and a few more weapons while we're waitin'."
"Much obliged Miss Rose."
Edward tipped his hat and left the house. The door had been greased, makin' not a sound, quiet as church mice. Emmett musta pulled it off the hinges and finally fixed the damn thing. Took him long 'nough.
'Round back, Delilah munched on some sweet grass. Judith, Emmett's bay mare, stood nearby, her tail flickin' in the heat. It was hard to tell the two girls apart, but Edward knew his horse, knew the nicks on her hooves and the spots of white on her nose. Sometimes when Emmett and Edward rode side by side, their bay mares and tall dark frames comin' upon their mark in tandem, they could pass for twin spirits. A single man split in two.
Edward rode solo this morn, takin' Delilah from her field and tackin' her himself. Alice was nowhere to be seen, the barn empty. Though, there was a sleepin' roll curled up to the side and the embers of a fire burnin'. Someone had rested here not long ago. Wherever Alice had gone, she was doin' a good job of hidin'.
The train station was a fair few miles outside of town. The ride took Edward longer than he wanted, but he wasn't in jeopardy of missin' the train. No, he pulled up to the station with plenty of time to spare. He left Delilah in the stables there and handed the stable boy a few coins for his trouble. He'd be back soon enough to reclaim his mount.
The station was busy this time of day with clusters of travelers passin' through on their way to bigger cities. Memphis was the end destination of this train. The train that held Forks's gold.
Memphis was Edward's destination too.
Or, at least he wanted to make certain a particular lady would find her way on the train. His presence here was a security. To make sure things happened the way he wanted. The way he needed.
Through the crowd, he spotted her: hair done up, hat on, gloves, a pretty green dress with long frilled sleeves. A picture of a lady on the move. She held a fan in one hand and a case in the other. She spotted Edward with those forest brown eyes, her mood sour and stern as she made her way through the crowd to him.
"Yer look'n mighty fine," Edward said.
What a stupid thing to say to the woman who he'd seen in nothin' but skin the night before. Nothin' she wore would ever beat the sight of the moonlight on her pale shoulders, the curve of her spine, the swell of her chest. Was a shame polite society had her cover such perfect bosoms.
"Thank you."
"I wasn't sure you'd show."
"I wasn't sure either. I stood by the front door for the better part of the night just draggin' up the courage to step outside." She didn't specify whose front door, but it wasn't Edward's. He had awoken all alone, not entirely sure the night wasn't a dream. "I can't imagine the pain I've caused by leavin', but you were right. I can't stick around if it means the people I love will get hurt or killed."
"That's mighty fine of ya."
"It's not fine. It's the coward's option. I'm runnin' from a fight, somethin' I swore never to do."
"Yer still injured. That wound'll keep ya from shootin' true. Only thing worse than no shot is a bad shot." He handed her a ticket, the very one he'd woken early to procure. She took it like it was poison, frownin' at the damned thing even as she let the porter take her bag. "'Sides, you won't have to stay away for long. A week, maybe two. Just long enough to get the Trackers away, then you'll never see me nor them again."
"What a tragedy."
"I'll write ya when it's done. Let ya know it's safe to be home."
"That's mighty fine of ya," she said, throwin' his own words back in his face. She stepped onto the train, pullin' herself inside the narrow aisle of the car.
Edward followed close behind.
"Think of it as washin' my hands of this mess. After yer back home, I'll have a clean conscience."
"So ya can go and rob others with a light heart?"
"Never said my conscience steered me right."
The attendant showed them to their car: a private one meant for first class passengers. Edward had sprung for the nicest, chippin' into his own stolen wealth to sweeten the deal. If Hell's Bells could travel in luxury, maybe she would be more compelled to go. Now, Edward knew he shouldn't've bothered, but it was too late to refund the trip. It was just them and this car for the next day. Lord willin', they would make it to Memphis and Edward would see her safely into the heart of the closest boardin' house with provisions to last the month.
Bella fluffed her skirt, starin' out the window as the train began to move out the station.
What must she be thinkin' in that great big head of hers? Edward didn't know what it was like to have a home, nor what it was like to leave it. He was too young to remember that feelin'. Silence was likely the smarter option; let her wallow in her pity. But the silence was too much to bear, too heavy to withstand with all that brewed between them.
"So, last night - " he started.
"We ain't gotta talk 'bout it."
"Well I do."
"There's nothin' to talk 'bout. I was drummin' up the strength to leave my home and my fiancé. I thought I was gonna die. So, I thought, what's the point in savin' myself for somethin' that would never come?" She peered at him out the corner of her eye, all conflict and heartache. Like she was deny'n herself somethin' just by speakin' the words aloud. "It was one time. A mistake."
"Sure. You tell yerself that, darlin'."
He didn't believe her, not for one minute. If she wanted to sit here and lie, she could do just that. Didn't mean he had to tolerate it.
"Not yer darlin'," she muttered.
A couple passed by their car and opened the door, the woman far too full of pomp and circumstance. The skirts of her dress whacked Edward's heels as she entered, and the feathers of her hat nearly blinded Bella.
"Ma'am I do believe you have the wrong car," Edward said nice as he could.
She took one look at who she hit, sniffed her nose up in the air, then turned round and high tailed it down the train. Her husband followed swiftly behind, meek in her shadow.
"Well, that lady was mighty rude," Edward said, glarin' after her.
"They're always rude to me. I'm used to it by now," Bella replied with a wave a her hand. Like brushin' off a pesky fly. "Fact, that was mighty kind compared to the usual treatment. Likely 'cause I'm with a nice white boy like yerself just like everyone wants."
"Why would the company ya keep determine if they treat ya right?"
She tossed her head back and laughed unkindly.
"You think I don't hear what people say? What they call me when I walk down the street?" she asked, agitated. She stood up now, pacin' back and forth their car. It wasn't much room but she made the most of it. "They think I'm dirty for associatin' with him. They think I'm lowerin' myself."
"Then why stay with him?"
"Cause I owe it to my father," she snapped, fully undone. She paced like a caged animal, scratchin' at her arms and givin' him a death glare. "Jacob's father saved mine. There was a band of outlaws and they nearly killed him. Jacob's father picked 'em off one by one, dragged my daddy to safety with the elders and nursed him back to health. I was eight at the time, didn't know much of nothin'. I was scared, and Jacob was kind."
Edward could picture it: a little girl, all alone and motherless in her wasteland of a town, watchin' her only kin bleed out before her eyes. Edward'd had a similar experience when his momma died in hospital, except he didn't get to save her. He woulda done anything, said anything, helped anyone who woulda saved her life.
Then in walked Jacob, likely just a little boy holdin' her hand. Soon enough, Jacob and safety meant the same thing. And it was awful easy to choose the safe route, even for a vigilante like Hell's Bells.
"Forks is different than those other towns out here," Bella continued. "We accept the Natives because the Sheriff owes 'em a life debt."
"The fact they sit on oil-rich land don't hurt 'em none either."
"Money don't mean shit when it comes to respect. Jacob's skin will always make him an outsider, just like my activities make me an outsider."
"They ain't the same."
"No, not even close," she agreed right and sober. "But the feelin' is."
"Ya feel a kinship with him cause yer both misunderstood."
"Is that so bad? To wanna be understood?"
"No. It's not. But it ain't a good reason to marry someone," Edward said, crossin' his arms over his chest in case she went to shoot him there. "Especially when you're lyin' to him 'bout who you are. He ain't dumb. He suspects ya, he's just too much a gentleman to say it."
"Oh, I know," she replied, blowin' hot air out her nose. "He don't deserve me and my trouble. Jacob's a good man."
"He is a good man. And he loves ya. That much is evident. But I'm willin' to bet all I don't have that you don't love him back."
"How dare you - "
She pulled out her guns, ready and hot on the trigger, and surged forward. Where she even found place to hide 'em in all those skirts was as mystery. The walls shook as she charged him, her tiny body rockin' his into the wall. The cold barrel of the gun kissed his throat.
Edward couldn't help but laugh. "Every time we're close, you resort to violence."
"You bring out the worst in me."
"Maybe it's cause I understand ya, and you just can't take it, can ya?"
Bella snarled, her mouth curlin' up at the edges to bare her teeth. And what sharp teeth they were, so bright and white. For a moment Edward thought she might tear his throat out with those teeth instead of shoot him.
Then the guns were gone. Forgotten. Thrown on the floor in favor of grabbin' his lapels and crushin' his lips to hers.
The door to their car opened again.
Edward groaned. He pulled away from his lady with great reluctance.
"Ma'am, I told ya - "
He was met with another pistol in his face. The pistol was a familiar one, held by a familiar hand.
"Carlisle."
"Hello son," Carlisle greeted with a manic sort of glee. He raised his other pistol towards Bella, leavin' no room for negotiation. "Now, take me to my gold."