Disclaimer:I don't own these characters, I just play with them. This story is rated M, and is not suitable for younger readers. Story contains violence, coarse language and sexual "situations". Please do not read if any of these things offends you.
Note: [Unbeta'ed! – all errors are mine ]
Chapter 50. "Cut"
Isabella Swan POV
I could hear voices, but I couldn't make out the words. My eyes refused to open and my body felt heavy, as if I had gained a thousand pounds in the last… hour? Day? Week? How long had I been out?
"… be kidding!" I vaguely made out the words from someone snapping. "You shot him? What were you thinking?" I couldn't decide whether it was a man or woman's voice. The words almost muddled together completely. I heard a distant murmur of someone answering and then a loud sigh. "You do realize what this means right? You might as well have ended it all."
"What the fuck was I supposed to do?" someone snapped in return. "That Edward shit refused to shut the fuck up. He provoked me. I was the one with the gun, and he still kept pushing. You would have pulled the trigger too, and you know it."
At the mention of Edward, my mind starting working overtime in order to pull me to the surface. It became easier for me to make out the words, and I was pretty certain that it was Jacob who had mentioned Edward's name.
Did Jacob shoot someone? Did he shoot Edward?
I mentally shook my head. Jacob may be crazy, but not that crazy.
"Yes, and about that, what the hell were you doing with a gun?" the other voice continued – it felt vaguely familiar, but I couldn't for the life of me place it. "As far as I know, Quileutes aren't known for being hostile. So why on earth would you harm an innocent? Doesn't the BMC mean more to you?"
"He wasn't innocent," Jacob spat.
"Okay, let's pretend for a moment that you're right," the other person said. Was it female? "What if he wasn't innocent? You really think shooting him was the right course of action here? You really think shooting him will gain you any brownie points as far as she'sconcerned? You really think you helped the situation? What were you even doing there?"
"I was on my way here when I spotted them in the woods, so I decided to follow them instead."
"Where the hell did you even get a gun?"
It was quiet for a long moment and there was a loud sigh before Jacob replied.
"The body," he said, almost sounding reluctant.
The woman (was it a woman?) muttered something in response that I couldn't make out, and I felt my head spin. I didn't know if my body was coming or going – was I going back to the blackness and numbness, or was I waking up?
I felt pins and needles in my fingers, as if I had been fallen asleep on my arm, and there was something irritating my throat. I coughed and my eyes fluttered open as I did. I groaned as I tried to stretch my body. My eyes couldn't focus and everything was blurry, as if I was going blind.
"Damnit, she's waking up," the woman said. "It's not time yet."
A blurry form came into my field of vision, and I felt a stinging in my arm.
"There, that should do it for a while," she said, her words blurring together completely as I fought the overwhelming lethargy that washed over me within seconds.
The blackness was just as comforting as it was unsettling. I felt numb in the darkness. Nothing could touch me there, and that was comforting. The unsettling part was that I had no idea what was going on in the real world – I didn't know what was going on with Edward. Was he looking for me? Was he also surrounded by darkness? Was he shot? Was he hurt? Was he dead?
The numbness subsided some as I thought about Edward – even the numbness couldn't save me from the pain that surged through me at the possibility of him being hurt… or worse. Edward couldn't be dead. He just couldn't. I tried to find comfort in the fact that if he was indeed dead, I would feel it. I was certain of it. A part of me would be lost forever, and I would feel it.
A felt a weird pressure against my cheek, someone squeezing my hand and breathing in my ear. The numbness subsided even more – even though I was still embedded in darkness.
"… love you, Bells. You know I do... you're beautiful… you always were… I can't wait to marry you… I can't wait to see you pregnant with our children… I can't wait to grow old with you… I can't wait to live my life with you… I just can't wait…"
I wanted to cry. I wanted so much for the voice to belong to Edward – but it didn't. Of course it didn't. It belonged to Jacob. He continued to talk to me and the pressure on my hand increased. I didn't want his hands on me – so even in the darkness, I tried to move. I heard him sigh.
"She's twitching," he said, it sounded as if he had turned his head. A moment later I could feel that stinging in my arm again."How long now?" he asked then.
"Not long," an unfamiliar replied. The female?
The darkness became more tangible again, and the numbness returned.
I was glad. I could use the numbness.
This time, it was only comforting.
x
I woke up eventually. It was like waking up from a deep slumber. My body was tingling and my throat felt dry. I had no problem opening my eyes, but it took me a few seconds to focus. I was finding myself staring up at the ceiling, and when I turned my head I realized I was in a bedroom. It was dark outside – at least I assumed it was, since there was no light coming in from the window. The only light was from a small lamp by a desk at the opposite side of the room. Books and papers overflowed the desk, and some of the sheets had fallen down on the floor. I sat up slowly, so I wouldn't get dizzy.
I looked down at my body, seeing my arms on display since I was wearing nothing but a white, short-sleeved, dress. What was with these people and changing my clothes when I was unconscious? My scars looked hideous in comparison to the clinically white fabric, and I spotted several small dots on my upper arm. Shot marks. They must have drugged me… several times. How long had I been out?Was Edward okay?
There was a bandage around my left wrist, and I pulled it back a little – noticing an inch long cut. It looked fresh. A shiver ran through me and a small sob escaped me.
They were doing it to me again.
I heard the sound of a lock turning, and turned my head toward the door – seeing it open. Jacob stepped in with a small tray in his hands. He smiled at me when he noticed I was sitting up.
"Hey stranger," he said, still smiling. "I know you're probably hungry, but this is all I've got for you for now. The bread will be done soon." He closed the door behind him, and I could hear it being locked from the other side. He stepped over to me, putting the tray down on the bedside table next to me. The tray only contained a glass of water and three pills lying on a napkin. "You've been out for quite some time, so you shouldn't walk around. You need rest."
I narrowed my eyes at him, but he seemed oblivious to it. He sat down next to me, resting his hand on the small of my back.
"How are you feeling?" he asked in concern.
I glared at him, trying not to flinch at his close proximity.
"How am I feeling?" I spat. "Are you kidding me? Where am I? Where's Edward?"
His eyes hardened, wincing a little as I said his name.
"Are you thirsty? I got you water," he said, ignoring my questions. "Can I get you anything else?"
"Edward. You can get me Edward," I said without missing a beat.
He groaned and dragged his hand through his short hair.
"What is it about that guy that makes you so… so… irrational?" he asked with a low voice, almost as if he was asking himself and not me.
I had no answer for that. Irrational? Was he kidding me? Was I being irrational for wanting to be with the boy I loved? Was I being irrational for wanting to know what happened to him?
"Did you hurt him?" I asked, looking him straight in the eyes.
He raised his hand and tucked some hair behind my ear. The gesture made me sick. How could he think it was okay for him to touch me like that after everything he'd done?
"I guess it's all a matter of definition," he replied with a light shrug, as if it didn't matter.
"Please, tell me, what did you do?" I asked, my voice more shaky than I would have liked.
"I did what I had to do to claim what was mine," he muttered in response.
"I was never yours," I said, moving away from him. "There might have been a possibility once, but not anymore. We're not friends. We're not star-crossed lovers. We're nothing. So please, stop pretending that we are."
He looked at me. "Bella, remember when we were kid-"
"I'm not doing this," I cut him off. "We're not going to reminisce about the past and pretend that this isn't happening. That you didn't just kidnap me. What day is it anyway?"
"Sunday," he replied.
Sunday? Sunday? I had been out cold for two days. How was that possible?
"You drugged me," I said, looking at him.
"Yeah, Dwyer thought we'd better take precautions until things had settled a little," he mumbled almost apologetically.
"What needed settling? You really think the police will stop looking for me if you keep me locked up for twodays?" I asked incredulously. "You really think I'm that insignificant in the eyes of… well, everybody?"
He gave me a look, and I could almost hear him snort.
"Bella, you know I love you. But we both know that people don't give a shit about you. They never did. ButI do. I love you. So why are you turning your back on me? The only person who will ever love you for who you are, and not someone I want you to be?" he asked. He took my hand squeezing it in both of his. "You wouldn't have to change for me, Bella."
"I don't have to change for him either," I said simply, not needing to sayhis name.
"That's what you think," he said, his jaw tensing. "But you'll always need to be someone else around him. You don't belong in his world, Bella. Why can't you see that? You're not like those people."
"Then tell me, what am I like? You? Am I supposed to cut my daughter up and drink her blood too? Or am I supposed to just cut her up and serve her meat as lunch? Is that who you think I am?" I asked. "If you do think that, you obviously don't know me at all."
"Bella, that has nothing to do with this. You and I belong together, it's as simple as that. Legend or no legend, I would still fight for you," he argued.
"You're fighting a losing battle," I told him. "You're not going to win me over. You are dead to me, Jacob. You all are. So maybe you should act the part."
He stood up abruptly, the anger coming off him in waves as he stepped away from the bed. He was pissed and I didn't care.
I was pissed too.
"Ask me what I did two days ago," he said quietly, crossing his arms over his chest, glaring at me.
"Other than kidnapping me?" I replied sarcastically.
"I shot at him," he snapped.
I stopped breathing as I stared at him in shock. My jaw went slack and I looked at him wide-eyed. I guess I hadn't misheard him when he spoke earlier – he really did shoot somebody. And not just anybody – he shot Edward!
"P-please tell me this is some kind of sick joke… please… please tell me Edward is alright," I pleaded, reaching for him before I was even realizing what I was doing. A flash of something flickered past his face as he watched me reach for him. My eyes were welling up with tears, and his eyes hardened when he met my gaze.
"What is his well-being worth to you, Bella?" he asked, his voice low. "No, screw that… what is his life worth to you?" He yelled the last part, and his words made me shiver.
"Everything," I answered him, as a silent tear fell down my cheek. "It's worth everything."
He smiled humorlessly, his posture tensing even more.
"Everything," he echoed. "I guess you know what to do now then, huh?"
My bottom lip quivered as I realized what he meant, but I couldn't speak the words. I could barely think them.
"We'll wed at the BMC, and you'll realize that this is where you belong," he said. "Our families will finally be together and everything will be just… right."
"They got their hooks in you so deep," I said quietly, not letting my eyes waver from his. "You really believe that all of this is real? You really think that marrying me will change anything? You really think that a simple ceremony will make me love you? The more you push me toward it, the less likely I am to see you as anything but a heartless monster ever again. Wouldn't you rather marry someone who loves you for you? Do you really want to force me into it?"
"You love me, I know you do. You're just too… clouded and distracted right now. He confused you," he mumbled. "You love me… the legend says that the mother would be reluctant." He said the last part mostly to himself – and I realized I recognized the words. My mom had told me something similar. It was something about me being reluctant because the legend said so. But what part of the black swan legend said that I was going to be reluctant? What was I missing here?
"What will happen now?" I asked. "Will you cut my arms open again? Will you let me almost bleed to death… again?"
"We won't let it get that serious again, we have taken precautions this time. Dwyer checked you out, and he knows you're not pure anymore, but we also don't have time to put you through the regular purity ritual. We don't have a month, we only have a week, so we need to…well, extract some blood," he said, almost sounding apologetic, but as he met my gaze it felt like he thought I deserved it, and the next words out of his mouth confirmed it. "I want to be wrong, but the reputation of Mr. Won't-Shut-The-Fuck-Up speaks for itself. You know how much this means to the people who love you, and yet you give the biggest give of all to him of all people. What is it about him that makes you think you love him?"
I tried to understand what he was telling me. They had 'checked me out' down there? And because of whatever they found, they now thought I wasn't a virgin anymore? And now they would cut me again –extracting blood. The pain would never end.
I had spent so many nights thinking about what happened, reliving the pain. I had spent so much time thinking of all the ways I could take my life because of it. But then, destiny intervened. Edward intervened. He changed my life, made it worth living again. And now, because I was stupid enough to think that things would be alright – history was going to repeat itself.
All because I had been too weak to take my life when I had the chance.
"I don't think anything, Jacob. I know I love him," I replied quietly, feeling my throat constrict.
"But that doesn't make any sense! Why would you love him? He's a douche," he argued.
I shook my head, I wasn't going to have this discussion with him. I didn't see the point.
"I'll leave you alone, you need to rest," he muttered, turning towards the door. "Take the water and the pills. Your body needs it." He walked towards the door and I followed him with my eyes.
"Why are you doing this, Jacob? You know I will never love you," I said quietly, not bothering to raise my voice since I knew he would hear me anyway.
"Some people just need a little convincing, is all," he said, his hand on the doorknob and with his back to me. "I know you love me. We both know it. The difference is just that you refuse to admit it. Sometimes desperate times call for desperate measures. You can't live in ignorance forever."
"Who's the one living in ignorance, Jake? You're the one refusing to accept reality for what it is. You and I will never be together, and we will never be friends again. You have burned all your bridges, so I don't even know why you continue to fight the inevitable."
"Because we belong together," he said through clenched teeth.
"Do we? Do we really? What makes you think that? A stupid book? A stupid legend?"
"It's not stupid," he said, snapping his head around to glare at me. "The legends are real. I've seen them come to life before my own goddamn eyes. I'm the last person that will ever question them. I've seen stuff, Bella. And if you had seen what I have, you wouldn't be acting like this. You wouldn't have turned your back on your family. On me. You would have run toward us with open arms, ready to make the legends come to life."
"You're insane. You all are. I wouldn't run toward you even if my life depended on it," I replied coolly.
The corner of his lips lifted into a humorless smile. "Yeah, but what if Edward's life depended on it?" he asked, sounding a little smug. I had no answer for that. He huffed. "That's what I thought."
He turned back to the door, knocking once and I heard the lock turn so he could open the door. As soon as it closed behind him, I heard it being locked again. They were keeping me prisoner.
A sudden wave of tears fell from my eyes, and my shoulders slumped. It felt as if all my energy was being drained from my body all at once. Like I had nothing left. They had me right where they wanted me. They knew they I wouldn't fight as long as Edward was at risk.
What was I going to do? Did I even have a choice? I had to go through with whatever they wanted from me in order to keep Edward safe.
But by keeping Edward safe, I was making myself miserable and ending up with the life that made me try to commit suicide before. The life I didn't want in a million years.
I took a shuddering breath, another wave of tears and sobs overwhelming me.
Would Edward hate me if I went through with it? Would he hate me if I ended my life?
We wouldn't be together either way. Whatever we had was over and it would never be again. So right now, my choice was either keeping Edward safe by living a miserable life with people that hurt me beyond repair – or keeping Edward safe, by killing myself.
Edward would be safe either way.
While I would only end up happy in one.
But Edward would never forgive me if I killed myself, and he would never forgive himself either. He would probably find a way to blame himself for all of this, and in the end it would destroy him.
I wished I had never opened the window for him. I wished I had swallowed those pills and fallen asleep for eternity.
But most of all, I wished I had stayed in bed this morning with Edward. Instead of going to the market we could have made love for the first time. I could have let him make me impure, since the crazies already thought I was anyway. So what difference did it make now?
I wished I would have taken the opportunity to be more for Edward. To really show him how much he meant to me. I wished I hadn't let him down.
But in the end, it didn't matter how many wishes I made. They still wouldn't come true. Reality was what it was – and right now, it wasn't very good at all.
I moved off the bed, walking awkwardly over to the window. I pushed the curtains aside, feeling my heart drop as I was met with the sight of… nothing. There was a window – but it was barricaded from the outside. There was nothing to see, and I could not escape.
There was no way for me to even tell what time of the day it was.
I was completely lost.
I looked over at the nightstand, seeing the water and the pills. It all lay untouched. I wasn't going to eat, drink or take anything they gave me. I wasn't going to cooperate. Not until I knew Edward was safe. His safety was everything.
I sighed as I made my way back to the bed – it was awkward to walk without my crutches or Edward by my side.
I scooted back on the bed, leaning back and resting my head against the wall. I was tired – but not sleepy. I tried to listen for any noise from outside the room, but I heard nothing. I didn't know if it was because the walls were thick, or because there was nobody that was close enough to hear. Was I in a house or an apartment? Was I even still in Forks?
Every time I closed my eyes now, all I saw was Edward and the way he looked at me when I told him I loved him. His wonderful smile as he left me on the bench, walking away so he could visit the bathroom. His eyes had been shining, he'd almost looked goofy. We'd both been so happy.
I guess I should have found comfort in the fact that one of the last things I ever said to him was that I loved him. At least we had a happy goodbye.
Get it together, Sparrow. Fuck! Pull yourself together and stop moping. Moping around won't get you anywhere. You need to fight!
A sob surprised me as the thought ran through my head. It was almost as if he was sitting right next to me, I could hear his voice so clearly in my head. I imagined that was what he would say if he saw me now. He would not approve of my moping. He would have wanted me to fight.
My stomach grumbled, reminding me that I had been without food for two days. It was painful to say the least, and my throat felt dry. I turned my head to the glass, glaring at it. It didn't matter how thirsty or hungry I was – I was not going to consume what they had given me. Who knew what they had put in the water? Maybe it was water from La Push – and Edward always said there was something fishy about the water there.
There was a sound from the other side of the door. I quickly wiped my tears with the back of my hands as I heard the door unlock. I expected it to be Jacob, so I was a little confused as I watched a man walk in with a plate in his hand. He locked the door with a key, putting it in his pocket, before turning to me fully. I recognized him immediately.
It had been months since I saw him last – but I would forever recognize this man.
Phil.
He tilted his head a little as he gazed at me. He was watching me like a scientist watches his rats in his experiment. Was that what I was to him? An experiment? I pulled my good leg up, hugging it to me, and he walked over, putting the plate next to the glass on the tray. The plate held a questionable looking piece of bread – it was reddish and it looked disgusting.
I thought I would have so many things to say to this man once I met him again, but as I found myself in his presence I realized I had no words to say. Instead, I studied his face, his movements and his features.
Could I see myself there? Could I see myself in his eyes? His jaw? His lips? His ears?
Was I related to this man? Was this man my father? Was he the reason why I wore feathers that were not my own? Was he the reason why I wasn't technically a Swan?
Something in his gaze twisted and changed, and with it something changed in me too. Somehow I felt oddly certain that the man before me was not my father. There was no chance in hell that he was.
"You should eat," he said quietly, his voice emotionless. As if he didn't give a crap about what I did. "And take those pills."
"Where's Edward?" I asked instead. He groaned and walked over to the desk, turning his back to me as he flipped through some papers.
"Someone got hurt because someone put their nose where it didn't belong. So right now, as far as I know, Edward is at the hospital. He's paying the price for your mistakes, as well as his own," he replied somberly.
"Is he alright?" I asked, trying my best to keep my voice even. Phil turned his head and looked at me from over his shoulder.
"That's not the question you should be asking. The question is: willhe be alright," he replied. "And that all depends on your cooperating right now."
"What do you want me to do?" I asked with a tired sigh.
"I want you to do as you're told. Be the daughter your mom expects you to be, the girl Jacob wants you to be, and the woman the tribe need you to be," he replied. "Simple."
I took a shuddering breath. "And we all live happily ever after," I said quietly, mostly to myself. He chuckled, but he didn't sound amused.
"Yes, that would be the plan," he replied.
"Like a big happy family," I continued.
He turned around fully, crossing his arms over his chest, leaning back against the desk.
"Exactly," he said, nodding. "You're catching on."
"So where do youfit into all of this?" I asked, looking at him with empty eyes.
"Oh, Bella, Iam family," he said, almost sounding loving if it weren't for the strange undercurrent of something else in his voice.
"Yeah, but you're not my family," I said.
He stepped over to me, crouching next to the bed and I curled up closer to the wall. I wasn't comfortable with having him so close. He reached out and touched my cast, and I flinched as if I could feel his hand on my leg.
"'The daughter of the Wise One will wear feathers which are not her own,'" he said, and I recognized the quote very well. It had been forever etched into my mind, but I refused to believe what the legend suggested.
"You're not my father," I hissed and he smiled, looking at me as if I had just said something precious.
"But you are," he argued softly.
"So, what now? I'm supposed to call you daddy? What about Charlie?" I asked, my voice shaking as my mind worked overtime to process all the crazy. It wasn't until now that I realized just how crazy it all was. If this man before me really was my father – how come he hadn't come forward about it until now? Something wasn't adding up, and I was still certain that we didn't share a single gene.
"Daddy… Dad… Father. Whatever floats your boat, Bella," he replied with a chuckle, but it didn't sound genuine. Not even a little bit. It held an empty quality to it, and I didn't like it. If he truly believed that I was his daughter, shouldn't he be acting a little warmer toward me? "Your mother will be happy with whatever you chose," he added. "She will be delighted to hear you've taken the news of your heritage well."
Well? Well? I wasn't taking the news well! Mostly because I didn't believe them, but I held my tongue about that. Snapping and yelling about how crazy they were would not benefit me right now. I had only once choice if I expected to get anywhere and that was to play along in their crazy game.
I could probably brush over my earlier argument with Jacob, and blame it on disorientation, hunger and trauma. I could make this right.
My mission right now was to get out of this room – this house and this building, or wherever the hell I was. If I could only make it out, I would be fine.
Or so I hoped.
I sighed inwardly.
Hope. Yeah, that was probably all that I had left.
I hoped to see Edward and I hoped he'd be all right.
I had to hold onto that feeling. The feeling of Edward. I could not succumb to the overwhelming need to give up. I couldn't give up. I couldn't fail Edward like that.
God, this was so frustrating! To care about someone else more than I cared about myself was turning out to be a pain in my ass, and yet I couldn't stop. I couldn't just turn off my feelings.
Edward was important. So I had to do this.
I had to play along.
"Where's Mom?" I asked, trying to sound neutral because I didn't want to raise suspicions. I couldn't sound all lovey-dovey over my mother just yet, it wouldn't be realistic. Nobody would be fooled. It had to happen gradually.
I sighed inwardly again. This was going to be tough. I was not an actress – Edward had told me so himself. I couldn't lie convincingly to save my life. But I had to in order to saveEdward's life.
"She's on her way. She hasn't made it back from Phoenix just yet," he replied.
He stood up from his crouch and I bit my lip.
"So… what do you need me to do?" I asked quietly, pretending to sound defeated even though I didn't need to pretend much at all.
"Eat the bread, take the pills and drink the water. That's all we need you to do right now," he replied simply. "Jacob will be back later for another extraction."
He patted my leg and walked over to the door.
"Where's Charlie?" I asked when he turned to unlock the door. He sighed deeply, shaking his head a little bit but didn't turn around when he answered me.
"I took care of him," he replied somberly. "Charlie won't get in the way again."
"What does that mean?" I croaked.
"It means he tried to get in the way, and he ended up dead. Good night, Bella."
x
He killed Charlie. The crazy man who thought he was my father – actually killed my father! My plan to cooperate and play along with these people felt like it was starting to slip through my fingers. There was no way that I would be able to play along now, knowing what they had done. There was no way that I could pretend that I was okay with all of this.
Phil killed somebody and Jacob shot Edward.
Just shot, though, not killed. According to Phil he was in the hospital – so Edward couldn't be dead, right? But didn't Phil say at the hospital? If Edward wasat the hospital, didn't that mean he was visiting someone? Damn it, what difference did it make? I couldn't get hung up on semantics here. Either way – Edward was at (or in) the hospital for some reason, and even if he wasn't the one still hurt… someone else was. Why else would he be there?
So now, my mind was reeling with all the other possible scenarios. What if Jacob didn't shot Edward? What if he shot someone else? All Jacob said after all was that he shot at Edward – not that he actually hit him. But who would Jacob shoot if it wasn't Edward? Who was hurt, and how badly? If Edward was the one being shot – did someone else get hurt too? What if there were several people hurt because of me?
Why me?
I left the bed, feeling restless. I couldn't just sit around. I needed to do something. I sighed and walked awkwardly over to the desk, curiosity getting the best of me as I wondered what the books and papers were about. I figured they couldn't be of much importance if they left them here with me.
Turns out I was wrong.
There were five books, all of them differed in size and age. One was almost falling apart, it was so old. The titles told me they were all about the Quileute history, and their legends. I picked up some of the stray sheets of paper, recognizing my mother's handwriting immediately.
"… eternal youth = virgin blood. Important. Must drink at full moon and midnight. Drink fresh? New moon? Mix with own blood for best effect…"
I cringed at her words as I sat down on the chair, staring at her notes and picking up another sheet.
"… beauty = biological. Fresh blood = fresh beauty. Routine. Green herbs, fall or early winter. August ritual for best effect…"
I read note after note, sheet after sheet. With each written word, I realized I didn't know my mother at all. Whoever had written these notes, I didn't know.
"… Black Swan Spirit must rise soon. Bella's the key. If pregnant on a full moon, more power to the Spirit (ref, p. 185 of QHL). BMC is of importance. New year? Bonding ritual must take place. Jacob Black. BMC…"
It was somehow easy to see where she was starting to lose her mind – if someone who had already lost it could lose it again, that is. The writing that covered her notes on the Black Swan was sloppy at best, her handwriting wasn't at all the neat and tidy one that I was used to.
I nibbled on my lip as I read the last one again.
BMC.
What the hell was that? Wasn't that what Jacob had said earlier? That we were to wed at the BMC? What did it mean?
I made a neat pile of the sheets that I had read, and then reached for one of the books instead, deciding to flip through them. I reached for the nearest one, flipping it open to the first page. Something fell out from between the pages and I picked it up. I turned the small piece of paper over – realizing it was a photo.
It was old – fourteen or fifteen years old to be exact. I was just two or three years old, I was sitting in my dad's –Charlie's – lap and he had his arm around my mother, who was holding baby Jacob. We were sitting in front of the Christmas tree, and we were all smiling – even baby Jacob.
I narrowed my eyes, studying the smiling faces of my parents. Dad had a mustache even then. He looked younger though, not as worn out, and Mom was beautiful, of course.
I wondered why the picture had been tucked away in one of the books, and why the edges were worn out. Like someone had been looking at it quite a lot.
A tear slipped from my eyes as I studied my father's smiling face.
My heart broke when I realized I would never see him smile again. Was he really dead? Or was Phil just trying to scare me into submission? Was he trying to prove a point? Maybe he was just trying to tell me that he wouldn't think twice about hurting the people I loved if worse came to worst and I didn't cooperate.
But why did the death of Charlie upset me so much? For the past few months he had been so adamant to take my mother's side. Everything I did was wrong, and when the truth finally came out – he still abandoned me.
I couldn't even find comfort in the fact that he tried to reconcile with me by asking me over for Christmas. Not after the fact that he spent days with my mom in Seattle, not even calling me to see how I was doing.
He hadn't cared about me.
Yet, here I was: spilling tears for that dead son of a bitch. As if he was worth it.
Parents are supposed to protect their children, and he didn't. Even when he was given the chance, he still chose wrong. So how on earth could I be crying over his death? It didn't make sense to me. I hated him!
I put the picture back between the pages in the book. I rested my elbows on the desk and hid my face in my hands. The tears were flowing freely as sobs shook my body. I didn't even know what I was crying for now.
For Charlie? For Edward?
For my mother?
For myself?
I sniffled and let my hands fall down as I heard the lock being turned again. I looked toward the door, and saw Jacob peek in. He looked confused when he found me by the desk, but he recovered quickly. He was holding a folded piece of fabric in his hands, which he gingerly put on the bed before walking over to me.
"Hey, don't cry," he said, reaching out to wipe my tears way with his thumbs. It didn't feel as good as when Edward did it, and I had to resist the urge to recoil from his touch. "Phil said he told you about Charlie… I'm so sorry."
Another sob escaped me and before I knew it, Jacob had pulled me to my feet and hugged me to his chest. I wanted nothing than to claw at him, knee him in the groin and use my nails to destroy his pretty face. But I couldn't. That would have to wait until I knew for sure that Edward was safe.
A part of me didn't want to pretend, it just wanted to give up. Another part of me just wanted to get back to Edward by any means necessary. And another part just wanted to kick Jacob to a bloody pulp.
I was so confused. This was all too much for me to handle and process.
I just wanted to sleep.
Jacob seemed to relax when he realized I wasn't pulling away, and he hugged me even tighter. I felt him press his lips against my hair and he started rubbing my back soothingly.
When I took a shuddering breath, I was overwhelmed with the scent of Jacob. He didn't smell any different at all – he smelled just like he used to. Pure Jacob. Which made it even more confusing. He smelled like the boy I used to be friends with. He held me like the boy who I used to consider my best friend. He cared about me like the boy who… wanted me to be bound for him for the rest of our lives, because a stupid legend told him so.
I pulled back and he eased his hold of me, but he didn't let me go completely. He put a finger under my chin, tilting my head up.
"It was an accident, Bella," he said quietly. "It wasn't meant to happen. I'm so, so sorry." I almost believed him, he sounded so sincere. "But maybe it's better this way, you know? Our families can finally be together. We'll finally be alright."
I licked my bottom lip, before biting down on it. Jacob must have thought something else of it – because suddenly he was leaning down and pressing his lips to mine.
I couldn't help it - but I pushed him away. I couldn't pretend I liked it. Or that I wanted it either for that matter. I couldn't even muster up a sorry face when he looked back at me in surprise. I wasn't sorry. No, scratch that. Hell yes, I was sorry. I was sorry I didn't kick him in the groin for that.
"Oh, I'm… I didn't… too fast, yeah," he mumbled, shaking his head at something. He stepped over to the bed and glanced at the untouched tray, before picking up the fabric he had brought in. "You should eat before it goes bad. You're supposed to eat it when it's fresh. Otherwise it won't work," he said, nodding towards the bread.
I sighed and made it over to the bed to sit down. I picked up the questionable bread, turning it over in my hand. I couldn't get over the fact of how odd it looked.
"I know it looks weird and it doesn't taste all that yummy either," he said, smiling apologetically, "but it's a necessary evil so you'll be ready for the BMC."
Evil was the keyword here.Evil. This was all evil.
"What's the BMC?" I asked, breaking the bread into two pieces. I brought it to my nose, sniffing it a little and crinkling my nose at the weird smell. I couldn't even tell what it smelled like. A mixture of herbs and rust maybe?
"Our… wedding," he said, chuckling nervously. "In lack of better words."
Another round of tears threatened to escape me at his words. Wedding. I couldn't even understand why the word affected me so much this time. It wasn't news to me that they wanted to bind us to each other for eternity. That they wanted to wed us. But still, somehow, this time it was different.
"What does it stand for?" I asked, trying my hardest to keep the tears at bay.
"Blue Moon Ceremony," he replied. "It's an important date. Especially this year. It's a full moon on new year's eve. It doesn't get any more special than that. Which is why we could shorten down the purifying to only a week instead of a month. You'll be pure once the BMC is over anyway, we're just taking precautions."
He unfolded the fabric, and sat down next to me. My stomach clenched as I saw what the fabric held – a knife and a small, glass vial.
"This won't hurt," he promised, reaching for my bandaged wrist. I dropped the bread and tried to pull back my arm, but he was stronger than I was. He quickly removed the bandage without any trouble at all.
"Wh-why can't you use a needle or something?" I stammered, hoping it would stall him. He looked up at me with a sad smile.
"This is how they did it in the old days. Traditions," he explained. "Now hold still, I don't want to cut too deep."
He held my wrist tightly, as he pressed the knife to my skin. I didn't care about his warning about sitting still – before I knew it I had grabbed the knife with my free hand. I got up and stumbled a few feet away while Jacob still sat on the bed, looking dumbstruck as he tried to understand what just happened.
I didn't point the knife at him. I wasn't that stupid. Instead I was holding it down my side; that way I didn't look all too hostile.
"Bella—" he began but I shook my head.
"You're not cutting me, Jacob. Please, if you love me, you won't cut me again," I pleaded.
"But I have too," he argued softly. "It's a part of the ritu-"
"Screw the ritual! I don't care! Please, Jacob. If the blue moon is as powerful as you say it is, then don't you think we can cheat a little bit andpretendyou drew my blood?" I asked, grasping for straws.
"No, I have to," he said. "I'm sorry. There is no way around it. We have to do this. You're impure, we need to purify you the best we can in the limited time that we have."
"I'm not impure," I protested. "I haven't had sex!"
Jacob sighed, and scratched his neck.
"I told you, Phil checked you out and he knows for a fact that you're not a virgin. So please, don't make this harder than it has to be," he said, letting his voice drop as he continued. "Your mother wants this done by the book, I can't go against her wishes… it won't end well for anyone." It was a warning and it was clear that this for some reason scared him too. Was he afraid of my mother?
He got up and moved slowly towards me, one hand extended toward the knife.
"Please, Bella, hand me the knife. I promise I'll be quick," he said.
"No," I said firmly, stepping back.
"Please," he pleaded again. "Is there anything I can do to make you change your mind? Please?"
I swallowed thickly, taking another step back and finding myself backed into the desk. Jacob had stopped a couple of feet away, waiting for my response.
"Edward. I need to know that he's safe and he's not going to be harmed. I need to know," I replied, sounding pathetically weak as I pleaded with him.
He took a deep breath, breathing out agonizingly slowly as I waited for him to respond. I needed to know if he was hurt or not. Any answer was better than no answer. I needed to know.
"Did you shoot him?" I asked, since he wasn't answering.
I stared at his face as I waited for his answer. I was so hypnotized by whatever word his mouth was about to form, that I was too slow to react when he suddenly lunged at me – grabbing the knife from my hand and rendering me powerless.
"How about we stop playing this damn game right now, Bella," he said, barely containing the anger in his voice. "Edward is nothing. You hear that? Nothing! And I don't want you ever say his name ever again or I'll swear to God I will cut his fucking throat." He took a deep, calming breath and when he looked back at me, he looked content. "One more mentioning of his name, and he's dead… just like his friend."
Blood drained from my face as I stared at him.
"A-and wh-who is his friend?" I stuttered.
"Some blonde dude. Collateral damage," he said, shrugging.
I gripped the desk behind me as I felt my knees buckle.
I gasped. "Y-you killed Jasper?"
A playful smile graced his lips as he played with the tip of the knife. It was almost as if we were just playing some game from the good old days. He looked so much like my Jacob – but at the same time, he was someone completely different.
Who was this boy who spoke so callously about murder and death?
"I can't imagine anyone surviving a hit like that…" He continued talking but I couldn't hear him anymore. My knees buckled completely and I couldn't even keep myself upright by holding onto the desk. I fell to the floor and I watched Jacob's mouth move – but there was still no sound.
First my father and now Jasper? They killed my dadandJasper?
For what? What on earth could they be gaining by killing innocent people? Was this my fault? What could I have done to prevent it from happening?
Jacob moved closer to me, with the knife still in his hand.
Still talking – still no sound.
I had never wanted to die more than at that moment.