..::.. Chapter 64 - His Faithful Question ..::..
The door has dents, but it's motionless like me.
I went berserk.
It was my turn.
Years pent up, blinded by rage. The chair tumbled by my feet and that was my weapon. I pummeled the walls, the door until I felt my arms could fall off.
The lightbulb burst, fresh new blood is colorless in darkness.
Today wasn't my last. Today came and passed.
But I'm ready. As I'll ever be.
The door does eventually open. My fate is sealed, decision made. Edward didn't save me.
So, I'll save myself.
Jenks peers in.
Silence.
He walks up, but it's dark. He squints, searching through the eerie. That's when I swing. The bang to his head is loud. He grunts, falls when I aim with a leg of the chair.
"Bella, wait!" he weakly calls, but I'm out the door, running.
This is like a desert. A junk yard in the middle of nowhere. Wired fence surrounds the place. Cargo containers stacked and rotting along with dead cars. It's a maze of scrap metal and trash. But when I make a turn a rumbling car waits. Headlights blind me. It charges toward me. I dive out of the way.
I hear it back up, racing down to my side.
"Ms. Swan," he calls. The calm in his voice makes me look. He's keeping up with me. Garret at the driver's seat. "Get in," he says. I let out a sob. Tired. I slow to a limping walk. "You're safe," he assures.
He's watching from the rearview mirror as I quietly sit in the back, letting the silent tears fall.
"I'll get you a warm shower, some clothes, something to eat." No response from me. It's quiet for a while. Then a sigh. "I hoped you'd make it. I knew you would," he says.
He looks again and catches my eyes. This is more than he's ever said.
The car comes to a stop after a long, silent drive. He climbs out and pulls the door open on my side. His hand reaches out, warm and strong. He lends more than that when his arm hooks under mine. Droplets of blood under each step I take. He carries me then.
A woman greets us at a door, like she's been waiting. "Quickly. Get her inside," she orders. She locks the door behind us and stands there in a quaint bathroom I was guided toward to look at me. "Welcome back," she says with a soft grin. I know what she means; from hell. She's slow and hesitant to approach, but the robe is off my shoulders, then everything else. I just let her.
It all begins to hurt.
"I'll fix that, honey," she says as she sits me in a hot tub. Honey is her skin and dark eyes that take me in from the edge of the tub.
She washes my hair then gets a needle going from a black bag. "For the pain," she says. "I've done enough of this for Garret. Used to it." The prick is barely there, but the oozing balm surges through my body as it numbs. She gets a blade and slits over my eyelid to flush out the excess blood. I'll be able to see her with both eyes soon enough.
A bandage. A gauze. An angel at my side.
"Like new." She smiles in her tank top and kimono. Her glowing skin deceives, but the age in her crows feet and eyes has seen more troubles than I probably have.
"Who are you?" I ask when I'm all patched up and at the kitchen table, spoon in hand, the steam of soup wafting to my nostrils. Even my toes wrapped in gauze and socks can't beat this warmth—they wiggle in delight.
"Just someone passing by," she says, no details. "Garret comes to me for help. I'm a doctor, or used to be one." She says that with a bit of sorrow. She has a story, just like I do. I figure we're both just strangers passing by in the dead of night. I don't ask further.
"And a fine, damned, cook," I add, bringing a spoonful to my lips. She chuckles, wandering around the kitchen doing this or that. I feel at home here, like a friend or an extended aunt. This longing in me wishes I could stay and forget all of what has happened.
Garret barges in. The apartment is nicely kept but it's a populated neighborhood and building, sardines in a can, pilled up and cramped. I'm far from my reality. That's good. Garret's expression isn't.
"We have to keep low. I'm sorry, Ms. Swan, but you must stay here until things die down."
I almost smile. Like I'd protest that. My wish came true.
"That's just fine. As long as … Doc here doesn't mind." She smiles. She likes that title. "But … what exactly is happening? Why am I here?"
"I think Boss is asking himself that same question." He chuckles low at this. I've never heard Garret chuckle. He kisses Doc by the stove and I look away to mind my plate. I've never seen Garret in any kind of way.
I finish my bowl and down the bit of bourbon Doc placed in front of me, no question.
"I appreciate your … help, but please let me go." I speak up.
Garret is drinking from an orange juice container, leaning by the sink. He's intent.
"I … want out. I don't want a part of this anymore. Tell him I'm done."
"He … was hoping to …"
"No." I shake my head. "I don't ever want to see him again."
Garret nods, mind elsewhere. He quirks his lip in a frown. "Ms. Swan, we came for you. Jenks and I didn't risk ourselves for nothing. You don't know what Boss is trying to do for you."
"He put me in there, and left me there to die. I know what he was trying to do."
Garret dips his head in disagreement. Doc walks out the room to give us privacy.
"You feel betrayed," he states. "He feels betrayed. I think you both need to hash this out. I don't think you have a choice. You're both targets now. You have to disappear if you want to live."
We're quiet.
"I was there when they came to get you. I was there after. Frankly, I've never seen him like this. Boss doesn't flinch, he doesn't question himself. He doesn't fight his uncles he's trusted all his life with his bare hands."
I'm stunned. "Which? When?"
Garret shakes his head slightly and dips the container to his lips. "Everything changed yesterday. He left you to get to Emmett, to take out all of his rage as we held him down. He spared Jasper on the account of saving you once, but they were all at his mercy, his wrath, dragging him by his collar to another room. He forbade your sentencing as they all owe you a major debt."
I lift my chin, cross my arms over my chest. "Good."
He lifts a brow at that. "I admit, you've proven yourself. I guessed what you were up to and I was right. You tore the family apart. But now, they're after you and what's yours." My stomach drops. Sue and Charlie are why I want to leave.
"Just about now they've noticed you're gone," he says, challenging me with a stare. "Ms. Swan, you're both walking dead. And I'll be next." He takes the last swig and throws the empty container in the trash. Doc slowly enters the room to look at him. There's this exchange between them that I'll never understand. Doc is silent but the worry is suddenly on her shoulders over his words.
Garret turns to me. "Getting you out was his resignation. They're all against each other now; the title is up. From now on, this … is his call. I'm just here to do my job." He walks out toward the bedroom, Doc follows. Her words tense, behind him, asking him at what cost?
I ask myself the same. What will it cost to leave him? What is this all costing Edward? Well, everything.
But he listened. That's all I asked for.
Regardless, I don't sleep. I'm on the couch attempting, Garret is fully clothed, wandering around the living room, eyes out the window, on watch. This is a waiting game. I don't know what the next steps are but the silence around me only amplifies the wandering thoughts on how loud it must be out there this second. He fought for me. My betrayal evened out the debt; my mother's death for my life.
Still, I worry for Sue, I worry for Dad, and I pray Ben has followed through with his part. They're ruthless and will do whatever it takes. This anxiety is gripping.
When Garret walks out the livingroom my pounding heart tells me to run out the door. I can call Jess, my friend from back home, my saving grace. Her number is carved in my heart. But I'd bring her into this. I think and think and there's no other alternative.
Garret walks in and that plan deflates as quickly as it comes to mind.
The clock hits two a.m. and suddenly it's chaos.
"We're leaving," Garret says. I'm dozing off when he pulls on the blanket and lifts me by my hand—no argument.
I bring nothing. I have nothing. The jeans and sweater on my back are what Doc supplied. Garret wraps the blanket over my shoulders and we're gone. I don't get a chance to thank her.
The rain pours over the umbrella Garret holds above us. I turn to him before I get in the backseat.
Words stuck to my throat. I want to beg him to let me go.
"Please, Ma'am. Let me do my job." His face cast under darkness, just the streetlight yards away to illuminate his worry.
I nod and I make a decision. I won't dig Garret deeper. I'll comply even if it tears me to face this.
The car bounces around at the speed. I brace myself. He's thorough and he's determined to get me there, wherever, and fast. My heart speeds the same.
The engine is whizzing already. The private jet's nose is turned toward the runway, and Edward is at the doorway. Stairs lead up to him.
Garret is there to bring this adamant pair face to face. I begin the ascent, Edward's eyes on me. His hand seems to reach out for me, but he holds back. He scans every inch of me, looking me over.
"You never want to see me again?" His first words, his calm demeanor, relaxed in dark pants, boots, and a T-shirt under a hooded sweater. I look at him from his steel-toes to his hard eyes. This isn't like him. But he's ready for his meticulous plan.
I came to ruin them.
We're under the protection of the umbrella, stuck here, like a war has ended and we've succumbed under the shade, surrendered.
"Go," he says, matter of fact. "This isn't what you want. I won't hold you back."
I turn with haste.
I take the steps down eagerly without a second thought.
Then, I stop.
The umbrella is over him, but rain is over me. It won't follow. It's like this; from being protected to leaving me on my own with this decision alone.
"It was great while it lasted, wasn't it?" he says.
I turn on a step midway. I yell, "What the fuck does that even mean?" I'm loud over the cacophony of a plane revving. I wait. He's silent. I shake my head when he doesn't even react.
I stampede down the rest of the way, my heart pounding the same, but I can't seem to let go of the railing at the end, knuckles white.
He's desperately hopeful; his chest fills up, his fists ball up when I charge back up to him—inches from his sad, despicable face. "It was never great, Edward. I lost it all. Everything! I should've stayed in my memory loss where you didn't exist!" I dig a finger into his chest. "I hate that I remembered any of it. And for what? To live in resentment for the rest of my life? To drown in grief remembering how terrible it was with you?
"I get on this plane, I forget my family, I lose what little is left of me when I leave it behind. Tell me, why should I?" I ask him. "I've already given up so much," I say, as my voice breaks.
I wait … for what feels like an eternity for a reply from him. "Fuck you for always manipulating me into feeling anything for you!" I spit. His jaw goes sharp but he says nothing.
I leave that behind me and find the pavement below again, this time with weakened legs, tears melding with rain.
Headlights beam beyond, blinding. I look up and they're many of them. My heart is in my throat and then I'm running up those steps to him for the very last time. I wrap myself around his neck and bury myself there.
"Go," I tell him. "Save yourself." Like my words back there meant nothing.
"Sir," Garret warns. His anxiousness in a single call as he witnesses what's coming.
But Edward's not rushing.
He's looking at what's over my shoulder, yet all he does is wrap me tightly to him like he'll be damned if he lets go. He pulls me away enough to catch my lips. This mouth of mine never forgets where home is. I kiss him, resigned, with the very last bit of strength left in me.
"Please," I plead, "Run." But I'm not letting him go so he'll try.
He kisses me one last time as the sound of wheels skid behind us.
I'm so lost in it, him, I barely let it register. The shot is loud, but he opened his eyes and anticipated it. I'm covered behind him where I was whisked. His body jolts against me when he's hit.
Garret dives to cover him, but it's too late.
I scream. I cry. Edward is slouched over me and the door to this plane that was supposed to be our escape.
Guards spill out from car doors outside. Emmett appears, unarmed and looking up at us, a posse surrounds him. The ranks have shifted.
He is Boss now.
"I'm sorry," I beg out of breath through a sob. I should've left with him. I wasted time, and he never protested.
His mouth gapes with the pain, but he's on his feet. He runs his hand over my cheek and looks over his shoulder to face this; the hemorrhaging family, at the brink of dying.
"You're done," Carlisle calls, gun in hand, ready for the second shot. Edward grins in contrast.
"I am." He staggers a bit. I whimper, holding him up from behind for dear life. "It was a good run," he says, like my hands aren't stained with his blood, frantically pressing tightly on his back to make it stop.
I'm blinded by tears … and the fucking, utter regret.
Carlisle aims the barrel again. "You did good, Son. But it was never your job to have. You understand?"
"Move, Edward. Come. I'll leave with you. Just come." I whisper my begs. I try to pull him inside to hide, but he won't. He's never been the one to cower, and not about this. He leans a forearm against the threshold, like this conversation is riveting and time isn't a factor.
"You'd do this to Senior?" He asks of his father. "After everything he's done for you."
I hug his back. I bury my face there, helpless, waiting for death. Who am I kidding? I would have followed him anywhere. Now I've ruined the chance. We'll all die here.
Carlisle shrugs. "You were always my good boy, all right? I'm sorry. But it ends here. It's for the best."
In all the chaos, I never noticed Jasper's absence. He finally shows himself when he climbs out of an SVU. He's fashionably late and calm as he fits his fedora on his head—then his fist around the handle of a gun.
He shoots Carlisle once.
Right on the temple.
I jump. The ricochet echoes through miles of pavement and the dead of night. My breath caught in a gasp as I watch. This finally unravels.
His father, now his own brother.
Carlisle falls to the ground, dead. A terrible threat, now a lifeless mass on a runway.
Jasper looks up at Edward and says, "Scram."
Emmett is left to handle this. Startled, shaken, his chest heaves with this new development. Jasper turns to him.
"I've killed Major. I'll kill you, too," he warns before that one reaches for his Glock. "Let it go. He had it coming. He would've gotten rid of you in time," he says about Carlisle.
In all my life I've never seen Emmett so paralyzed. This, going down a slope he wasn't expecting.
"You think he would've let this pass? You, a McCarthy?" Jasper tsks with a laugh. He stuffs the gun back in his guard's halter he borrowed. He buttons up his suit jacket.
He's done.
"And what the fuck are you still doing here?" He shouts, looking up at us.
I pull on Edward but he's unmoving. The strength and stubbornness I remember so vividly when he was young. He's consistent.
"We're good, Boss?" he asks, but not Jasper. His eyes on Emmett.
Emmett is pacing, distraught, his palms running over his head. His black suit and jet black hair wet with rain. He tears the shades off his eyes that are red and seething.
"Just remember I gave you this," Edward reminds him. "You can have it now."
Emmett roars at his words. His snarl wide, eyes wild, and face like a burning man. He pulls out his trusted gun to end this, gleaming like the thick, gold chain against the veins plump in his neck. He pulls the trigger again, and again, and again.
Edward jolts back and over me. Garret grunts, too, and dives out of the way. Emmett never did miss a hit in his lifetime. Us on the floor of the plane, blood splattered, I watch it slowly soak Edward's t-shirt.
"No!" I screech, I roll to my knees. This wasn't supposed to end like this. Edward's eyes are blank. I grip his chin and get him to react. "Don't you dare die on me!" He blinks up at me. His brows furrow.
"Get down," he weakly murmurs. He pushes me to the carpet and crawls over me.
Pop after pop sound endlessly. Metal around us sparks and pierces. But Emmett doesn't get to empty out his magazine. There's sudden agony.
I see Jenks coming into the picture, a handgun up and ready, revealing himself. Emmett's hand pierced through, one bloody shot. His gun clatters to the ground.
"You have the right to remain silent …" Jenks states. Sirens come blaring as he shouts the Miranda rights to Emmett and Jasper.
Men in black and yellow lettering come charging in cruisers. Garret is gone, up and over the stairs railing like he's never existed, so are guards as they scurry like evicted ants in a mound.
I hold my ears shut as shot after shot pop, sparks in the dark of night; Guards, Feds and a chase. War ensues.
Edward unwavering, even wounded. He winces and covers me. His eyes cast as he looks down at me. The stampede of boots coming for him are imminent, they charge up the steps.
"Bella," he says, his chest to mine, "Do you love me?" His faithful question. Years of his ask, an assurance, a plea. His eyes are holding me even when his arms are fastened behind his back. Cuffs go around his wrists as he watches me cry. I hold on until he's pulled to his feet and away from me.
"Tell me or regret it for the rest of your life," Edward says to me, soft words, his hard chest heaving, depleted, and crimson. Jenks steps into view from behind him. His grip tight on those cuffs he's longed to lock. His mission is complete.
I yell, "He's hurt, he's hurt!" I reach out to a pale and arced Edward. But Jenk's got a good grip and pulling mercilessly. I'm pushed back to the floor by my shoulder. "You fucking animal!" I rage and kick at him.
"Bella, you have five seconds to get the hell out of here," is all he says. He yanks on Edward and down the stairs they go before I can utter another word.
"Wait…" I flail. I'm held back. A wall of black clothed men keeps me from him. Edward watches—eyes stuck to me from afar regardless.
"BEN, WAIT!" I rush to say. I push myself through muscles and shoulders down the steps. Edward looks at the one at his side when I call. And he really sees him. It all clicks. He cuts his eyes to me before he's shoved into a car and out of sight.
I can't make it to him. I can't explain this.
"EDWARD!" I let it all out. Years of the pain, anguish, and fight.
I didn't tell him. I didn't get to say what I've always felt. The real answer to his legacy of a hopeful and heavy ask.
I've come this far, I've done it all … and it ends like this.
….
