CHAPTER SIX.

ACCIDENT

As if some divine force were guiding her, La looked up, locked eyes with me, then stared past me at the van spinning toward her.

"Emmett, no!" Alice shrieked, but I had already launched myself across the lot toward La, entirely unconcerned that someone might see me. I didn't care anymore. Not this girl, not the gravitational center of my universe. Anyone but her.

My arms caught her around the waist as I flew past, tucking her into my chest as we landed in a heap on the other side of the truck parked next to the Abarth. I landed on my back with La on top of me. Her head hit my chin with a resounding whack, but there was no time to check on her. The van continued its arc around the truck, coming straight for La.

"Fuck," I sputtered and dropped her to catch the van just before it crushed us both, pushing it back and away. The momentum continued, forcing the van to swing back in the other direction, again coming straight for where La lay prone on the frozen ground.

Was she a fucking magnet?

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," I muttered. I was doing too much. If she was still conscious after that head blow, she could be seeing all of this. This could mean exposure. I was risking not just my life, but the lives of my entire family.

If word about the family got out and made it back to the vampire governing seat in Italy, it would rain hell down on this entire region. There would be no saving La then. There would be no saving any of us.

I caught the van anyway, holding it up to finally stop its momentum. Only now, if I released the car it would drop directly onto La's legs. It was like some cosmic force had decided that La would definitely be crushed by this van and there was simply nothing I could do about it.

"Son of a bitch," I gripped her with one hand and pulled her into my side, holding her tightly against me. Her body moved limply, as though she was unconscious. The head blow must have knocked her out.

Once her legs were safely out of the way I released the van to drop back onto the concrete. It landed with a groan and crash that showered us with glass. We were stuck in the middle of a triangle that was formed between three cars with no easy way out. Not without further exposing the family, anyway.

Imminent peril over, the reality of the situation descended on me. This was bad. This was very, very bad. If she had seen even a fraction of what I'd just done it would be bad enough, if any of the witnesses had seen anything we were whole-heartedly screwed. After all of the indecision over the last few days, all of the drama with deciding to leave, the reason all this started was now so close to me I could feel the heat of her body through our clothes. I could taste the scent of her even though I hadn't taken a breath.

A moment of panic smothered my more logical concerns as the screaming of witnesses erupted around us. La still hadn't moved, lying limp in my arms. With a slight shift, I was able to maneuver her body to a more comfortable position from which I could see her face - wide-eyed and alert.

Oh shit.

"La?" I asked. Her face was mildly slack. It could be shock or a concussion. Her pupils were dilated, but she was breathing evenly. "Delilah! Are you okay? Talk to me, please."

"I'm…" it was almost a whisper. She cleared her throat with a small sound and tried again. "I'm okay… I think…"

The words pushed the ghost of a breath across my face that smelled of coconuts and coffee. I'd taken a tiny breath to speak at exactly the right moment to catch it, but there was a second of delay before the fire lanced down my throat. I dropped her immediately and scuttled backward into a corner. She frowned at the ground, staring at it incomprehensibly, and moved to stand.

Suddenly terrified that she would injure herself further I shot out a hand to hold her in place. She felt delicate and light as a bird in my grip. It would be far too easy to accidentally squeeze just a touch too hard and snap her bones.

"Don't, you could be injured," I said gravely, releasing her.

"It's cold!" She whined. It was a real whine, accompanied by a genuine pout. Her voice wheedled out at a higher pitch than normal as she struggled to stand again. I couldn't help it, I laughed. This girl very nearly got crushed by a runaway van and she was worried about the cold?

"I think you hit your head pretty hard when we fell, you really should stay still," I told her in a second attempt to avoid further catastrophe. In answer, she gave me a heartfelt glare that seemed much more in line with her personality than the whine had been. Just as quickly she seemed to finally notice she was in some amount of pain.

"Ow," she said and touched her head where it had been knocked around. I cringed inwardly but smiled nonetheless. It was my fault she was hurt, even if her reaction to her injury was pretty funny.

Her expression switched in a flashing second, as though she'd only just remembered something. "How did you get to me so fast?"

Whoops, she noticed. Damn. "What are you talking about?" I asked innocently. "I was standing right next to you."

A small silence fell over us as she glared at me as though she wished she could dissect my soul. I held her gaze steadily, silently willing her to believe the lie.

It didn't work.

"You weren't. I saw you by your car with your siblings. You weren't anywhere near me," she cocked her head and continued to watch me like she was plucking the truth right out of my brain. It was clear a lie wouldn't work with her. Whether she'd seen too much or whether she could simply see through my lies was yet to be determined, but it didn't matter. Something about her made me want to never lie again. I frowned at the thought. If I wasn't going to lie to her, I would have to be very careful with my words.

"Like I said, you hit your head really hard. You probably have a concussion." Stop asking, please stop asking, PLEASE stop asking, I was screaming the thought at her.

"I don't have a concussion, Emmett," she argued. "Tell me what's going on."

"Give this up, will you?" Please give this up for Christ's sake. If there weren't so many people around I would beg. Actually, if there weren't any people around I would probably just tell her. I would give her anything she asked. Good lord, what was wrong with me? First I didn't want to lie, and now I was ready to just tell her everything? These were exactly the types of thoughts I wasn't supposed to be having.

"No." Her jaw was set stubbornly, her eyes narrowed as she continued to glare at me. I returned the stare silently, equally frustrated with our conversation. She settled back down onto the pavement and crossed her legs underneath her knees, her arms over her chest. Neither of us broke eye contact as if we were in an epic battle of the wills. Normally I wouldn't have had any doubt about who would win, but La might have a run at taking my title of the most stubborn individual in the universe.

Emergency evac arrived and started to work on excavating us from between the cars. First, they pulled the driver of the van out, who had smashed his face into the steering wheel and passed out. He was bleeding profusely, I could smell it, but the scent was so overwhelmed by La's that I barely noticed.

Within minutes the van started to shift, and emergency responders nearly had us free. Convincing her to keep quiet was now or never.

"Please," I begged. It wasn't what I expected to say, but I felt a driving need for her to trust me, to know that I wasn't trying to be a dick, that I was trying to save her. "Just trust me."

"You'll tell me later?" She spoke skeptically, still distrustful. As well she should be, I wouldn't be able to tell her anything, no matter what I promised right now.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," there was petulance in my answer, but she seemed to accept it, at least for now. I would have to figure out a way to talk myself out of this corner at the hospital.

The swarms of witnesses surrounding the crash site seemed happy to accept they hadn't seen me standing beside La before the accident. Disgusting as it was, her head injury would make discrediting her all too easy. Even if La mentioned her version of events, it was likely to be dismissed as the story of a traumatized person.

La deserved better, but I had made this mess, and now I had to worry about the fallout.

The EMT to squeeze through the gap they had made in between the wrecked cars was the first real stroke of luck we'd had all morning. He was a close colleague of Carlisle's at the hospital that I'd met on several occasions. Refocusing his attention on La would be a breeze.

"Hey, Emmett!" Brett Warner peered into my face, checking my eyes, and nodded professionally. "You okay, bud?"

"Yep," I lifted my hands to show nothing was broken. "Nothing touched me, but I'm a little worried La might have a concussion. She whacked her head pretty hard when we fell."

Cold fury shone across her face. I shrugged unapologetically. My reasons for announcing her head injury didn't make it any less dangerous. She needed to be checked out. It took some cajoling, but once the EMTs noticed her eyes were dilated, they convinced her to get on a stretcher.

Not once did she offer any information about the accident. Instead, she let me take the lead in telling the story, watching me with cold eyes. When asked, she agreed with my version and went back to staring at me in anger. I couldn't tell if she was angrier about the lying or the stretcher, but I appreciated her silence.

After some calm reassurance to the other EMTs that I was perfectly fine, they let me climb into the passenger seat next to Brett for a ride to the hospital. On the way, Brett assured me that they were only bringing her in only to be sure beyond doubt a concussion wasn't a concern. Brett didn't seem to feel La was in immediate danger. This calmed a wordless anxiety that had been building in me since I'd felt her head hit my chin.

When we got to the hospital I jumped out and headed straight for Carlisle's office while they unloaded the angry girl from the back. Luck was with me for the second time, as not only was he there, he was alone.

"Carlisle," I said hesitantly from the doorway. He stood, alarmed by my stricken face. I came in and closed the door. By the time I'd turned back around, he had circled the desk to stand before me and gripped my arm.

"Emmett, you didn't -"

"No, no," I assured him.

"Of course not." The look of relief on his features would have been comical if it wasn't so sad. I'd come close, and he hadn't been sure staying was a good idea. "I'm so sorry I entertained the thought. I should have known from your eyes…."

"But she's hurt," I added. He snapped his head around at me. "Probably not seriously, and I did fuck up."

"What happened?" His hand squeezed my arm tightly.

"A car accident," I explained what happened in detail, every second of it so he would be prepared when he went in to see her. "She saw everything, Carlisle. I'm so sorry. I know I put us all in danger."

He released me and leaned back on the desk as I covered my face with my hands. "No, son. You did the right thing. I know that couldn't have been easy."

"She's too smart for me, Pops," I said. "She knows there's something not right about me, and will probably connect it with the rest of the family. This could be really bad."

"Well," he braced his hands on the desk on either side of his hips and crossed his legs out long. "If we have to leave, we leave. We were already considering it anyway, right? What has she said?"

"Nothing, yet."

"Yet?"

"Right, well I had to get her to agree to go along with my version of events at the moment, so I sort of promised an explanation."

"Ah," he frowned in thought.

"When I tackled her, she hit her head pretty hard on my face. She seems fine, Brett wasn't too worried, but if we need an excuse or way to discredit her…." Ew. I frowned and swallowed. I didn't want to resort to something so low.

"Hopefully it won't come to that," he said gravely, acknowledging my disgust. "We'll just have to see what happens. For now, it seems I have a patient to check on."

"I'm really worried I hurt her."

"Are you now?" He laughed. "Today has been interesting, hasn't it?"

I frowned at his good humor. Somewhere along the way, I went from being this girl's greatest danger to saving her life. The irony was not lost on me, I just didn't find it as funny as Carlisle… yet.

He left me alone in his office. I circled it, pacing back and forth around the chairs, weaving between them and Carlisle's desk, while I listened hard for his footsteps to return. When they didn't, my pacing became more erratic, until I was all but bouncing in place and looking for things to keep my attention.

A manila folder on Carlisle's desk caught my eye. It had "Davis, Delilah" written into the name window in a neat hand that didn't belong to Carlisle. Apparently, he had been doing a little research of his own and hadn't been concerned with who knew about it.

Inside was a basic medical profile chart. The girl's name and address were listed at the top, which I quickly memorized. I told myself I might need to know the address if the girl needed a ride home later. Absolute bullshit.

The rest of the medical chart was completely empty. No pre-existing conditions, no surgeries or accidents, not even a doctor's appointment. According to this file, Delilah Davis didn't medically exist.

Curiosity finally drove me out of his office and down the hall, back toward ER. As I approached the room La was meant to be in, a nurse entered ahead of me and wheeled her out on a hospital bed. I stepped back around the corner as she came into view but still caught a glimpse of her looking frustrated and grumpy as they rolled down the hall. She was sitting straight up on the bed, legs crossed beneath her, arms crossed over her chest, frowning at everyone they passed. When the nurse spoke to her she responded kindly enough, but she certainly was not happy about the attention.

Once they were far enough ahead, I followed discreetly. They entered a room several turns later, where I found Carlisle set up to read her X-ray pictures. We waited quietly during the process until Carlisle had the shots, and was able to put them up on the backlit screen.

The first glance was clean - she was fine. No glaring damage from our collision, nothing to indicate problems later. A second look told a completely different story. I stared at the X-ray images, trying to puzzle out what could have happened. When nothing came immediately to mind I looked at Carlisle for confirmation.

"What the hell?" I whispered.

"Yes, she seems to have several contusions, doesn't she?" his eyes continued to flick over the image seeing and assessing far more than my limited understanding allowed.

"What does that mean?" I asked him.

"Well," he murmured. "I don't know. The injuries are so varied in age and placement that it doesn't seem likely to have been another car accident - unless she is very unlucky. They're more likely singular directed collisions with the cranium over a broad time period."

"There is no doubt she is unlucky," I said then clarified, "You mean someone hit her," My skin tingled with a very cold chill.

He lifted his hands. "We can't assume that. It could have been a great number of things. What I can say is that not a single one of them is newer than last year at the very least. Whatever happened hasn't recurred in some time. Long enough for most of them to be well healed."

This didn't align with the medical file I'd just seen. If she had been hospitalized for an accident or anything else that might have caused that number of contusions on her skull, it should have been in that file on Carlisle's desk.

The girl in question had been rolled away while Carlisle and I spoke, so I made my way to her holding room. At the door, I could hear the girl's voice murmuring with the driver of the van, Tyler. He sounded morose and apologetic, while La sounded flippant and bored.

I peeked around the corner to get a glance at the two of them. Tyler was in a bad way. A gash ran along his brow, dripping blood down his temple, which he dabbed at discontentedly with a balled-up piece of gauze. His face, where visible, was covered in minor cuts and bruises. One of his arms was in a sling, and there was a large bandage on one of his thighs.

La was making a very obvious effort to avoid looking directly at Tyler. Sneaking curiosity overcame my better senses, so I backed out of the doorway to listen in on their conversation.

Tyler was consumed with abject guilt over the accident. He kept apologizing and begging forgiveness for nearly killing her. Every time, the girl would deflect, and assure him the apology was unnecessary, becoming pretty annoyed with the repetition.

During one tense moment, Tyler asked how she'd been able to get out of the way so quickly. I held my breath waiting for her to respond. After a very short pause, she mentioned casually that I had pulled her out of the way. Her tone was even, not even a hitch in her breath. Aside from the brief pause at the beginning, her lie had been seamless.

I found myself giving her an impressed nod she would never see. The realization I would never be able to share anything with her drove a feeling of intense longing and loss through me. My hand was on the door handle before another word could be said.

Tyler ignored my entry, too taken with watching La in desperate earnest. La, on the other hand, saw me immediately. Somehow her posture communicated aggravation and boredom at once while her expression, strangely, was one of relief.

"And why exactly do you not need medical attention?" The brief expression of relief slid off her face as I approached, eyes narrowed to slits. The dramatic skepticism nearly made me laugh out loud, but I had a part to play, so I settled for a small smile. Her heart did a short series of alarming irregular beats that made my stomach do a weird flop. I turned to Tyler for a distraction.

It was incredible how easy it was to ignore the blood seeping from his various wounds. I supposed, for the second time that day, it was his proximity to someone that smelled so much better than he did.

"How are you doing?" I asked him. "You alright?"

Tyler vomited up the apologies he had been directing at his emergency roommate, followed by a long intense description of what exactly had happened inside the car. The kid was an absolute mess of guilt. Tears gathered at the corners of his eyes, so I intervened to save him from himself.

"Hey," I interrupted his speech before he was overcome, and patted his knee in support. It was condescending, but the best I could do in the circumstances. "It's alright, man. No blood, no foul, right?"

Amid my internal laughter at my own joke, I caught La's eye. She was not impressed, in fact, as I watched, her expression rapidly melted from frustration to outright anger.

"I'm so mad you put me in here," she fumed. "I don't have a concussion, I'm fine, and I want to check on my car! Poor thing probably got demolished."

Carlisle's footsteps were approaching in the hall - saved by the bell. I could understand her impatience; I wouldn't have fared any better were I in her position, but I needed to buy a few seconds.

"Your car is fine," I assured her. "I saw it as we were leaving…."

Carlisle was right outside the door now. For better or worse, we were out of time, and this would be the last time I ever saw her. I would never satiate my curiosity about her. Never discover why she didn't have medical history, why she came to Forks in the first place. I had to remind myself it was better this way - the only way to offer her life.

"You can't be mad," I said instead of going through my list of desperate questions. "I came to spring you!"

Carlisle heard his cue and walked into the room. La's eyes widened dramatically as he approached - no surprises there. She'd noticed the "familial" resemblance. I wondered how long it would have taken her to put all the pieces together had I chosen to stay. Probably not long, considering how much she'd already seen.

"Delilah Davis?" Carlisle asked calmly.

"Uh… yes?" She swallowed hard and stared up at him. I could almost see the gears shifting in her head.

Carlisle introduced himself and put her X-rays up on a screen that had been placed in the room for this purpose. As I watched, La's face tightened into curiosity as my father spoke. I couldn't be sure, but I would bet she wasn't hearing a word he said, too busy putting things together to listen properly.

"Sorry, what?" She confirmed my suspicion. I chuckled quietly behind her. Edward's talent might be nice in a situation like this, but if I was honest, I was enjoying puzzling her out without the cheat Edward had.

Carlisle re-checked her dilation and her pulse, probably worried they had missed something judging by her reaction time.

"Emmett said you hit your head pretty hard…" he was saying.

"I did but I've had worse," this comment caught my attention. I jerked around to catch Carlisle's eyes. Ask her! Ask her what happened! Either my father didn't notice my head snap around or was pretending not to, because he didn't ask. He seemed to accept her decision and helped her off the hospital bed.

Carlisle didn't even give her more than a concerned look when she stumbled. I frowned at him. He gave me a minute shrug as if to say, "It's none of our business," and moved over to Tyler.

When I turned back to La she was glaring at me. I took a step back from the glower, then remembered that I was supposed to be playing innocent.

"Can I talk to you for a moment?"

This time Carlisle caught the look I threw at him, but again he was no help.

"Thanks so much," I whispered under my breath so low the humans wouldn't be able to hear it. The corners of Carlisle's mouth barely turned upward at my sarcasm before he directed his attention on Tyler.

I led La out of the room and down the hall to the nook I'd been using to hide in earlier. Steeling myself, I turned to her severely, hoping if I appeared impatient she would give up before I had to lie to her. I watched as the fire went out of her eyes, and almost felt disappointed, even though it was what I wanted. She took a step back and regarded me quietly. Her eyes roamed my face, taking in every detail, until slowly the fire in them rekindled.

This girl was incredible. She was standing uncomfortably close. The heat of her body radiated all over me. It drew me in, venom flooded my mouth. The monster inside me was thrilled by our proximity.

"What," I forced out and swallowed the venom.

"You said you would tell me what happened," she said and put her hands on her hips. Clearly, she would not be deterred. I was in way over my head. This woman would win any sparring of words, see through any lie. I had no chance.

"Nothing happened. You hit your head." Right, yeah, she would fall for that. I wanted to smack myself in the head.

"No, I saw you standing with your siblings. You were too far off to be able to get me out of the way. What is going on?" Her breath ghosted over my face for the second time in a single day. Coffee and coconuts. If I wasn't careful, the venom would dribble out of my mouth.

"Let it go," I shook my head and crossed my arms, feeling like I needed an added barrier between us. She didn't back down. "Why do you care, anyway?" I inquired.

"I don't know?" Her voice rose with anger. "Because I don't like mysteries? Because I don't like lying without a good reason? Because when something incredible happens I need to find a way to make it credible? Take your fucking pick, it comes down to the same thing."

I wanted to crow with laughter, but I forced my face to stay angry. It was going to be really hard to get her to back off, especially since I didn't really want her to. I wanted to tell her everything and let her decide if she even cared to know me. I wanted the chance to prove to her I was worth knowing. I wanted to scoop her into a hug and praise her perseverance and strength.

Of course, that was impossible. She could, and probably would, end up dead for the pleasure of knowing me, and she deserved better than that.

"Incredible? What do you think you saw?" This was the most important question. I needed to know exactly what she saw so we could formulate the best plan to head this off if things grew dicey down the road.

She proceeded to describe in great detail exactly what had happened. She didn't miss a single thing. Jesus fucking Christ, we were screwed.

"You think I lifted a van." I tried to keep from sounding as impressed as I was. Another piece of her character clinked into place; she was indomitable. Pragmatic, discerning, and courageous to the point of madness.

"Yes," she offered, then more gently, "I saw you. You saved my life today…."

It was time for me to breathe. With my arms still crossed in front of my chest, I dug my fingers into my elbows to brace myself and sucked a small mouthful in, keeping my olfactory locked shut using the same trick I'd used in class. A wave of her scent nearly knocked me over anyway. I took a step back before I was able to control myself. The involuntary motion made me irrationally angry. The force of her scent was ridiculous, why did it affect me so? Frustration made my rebuttal surlier than I intended.

"If you're so certain I saved your life, can't you just thank me and move on?" It wasn't what I wanted to say at all, but I couldn't admit the things I wanted to. The Cullen family's safety had to be paramount. It had to come before everything; my thirst, my curiosity, La's unhappiness.

"Thank you," she said. A crease formed between her brows, right above her nose. She was being honest. She was genuinely thankful for my intervention. "Really."

I didn't know what to say to that. I stared at her as she stared at me, neither of us wanting to be the one to break the silence, yet both wanting the other to continue. There was a tension ricocheting between us. Her silent pleas for further explanation were nearly audible in their intensity. The words she wanted to hear were building up in my mouth, gaining momentum. If I stayed here with her, in this little nook, in the hospital of this backwoods, boring little town, I would give in and tell her everything.

"You really aren't going to give this up are you?" I heard myself asking.

This was not supposed to happen. In fact, this was supposed to be easy. Humans didn't, as a rule, ask questions, demand answers, or allow themselves to get involved with vampires in any way at all. As the last few interactions with this particular human had suggested, La didn't operate that way. At least one part of Jasper's theory made sense. If she was this powerful as a measly human, what would she be as a vamp?

"No," she crossed her arms and mirrored my stance, leaning a shoulder against the wall. One foot kicked out and crossed the other ankle. La was settling in to fight this out.

"Well, no one will believe you, anyway." Ugh. Gaslighting. This was so ugly. I immediately hated myself for doing it.

"I wasn't going to tell anyone."

Wait, what? I peered into her face, searching for signs of dissembling and dishonesty, but there was nothing. Again, she was being one hundred percent honest with me, and here I was repaying the offer of her trust by questioning her sanity.

Instead of allowing my shame to continue in her presence, I turned on my heel and stomped off like a petulant child. It was probably my imagination, but I would swear I could feel her eyes on me until I turned the corner and fled.