Chapter 28

~Don't Speak~

I can't leave the farmhouse soon enough. Guilt weighs on me every time Jimmy says how thankful he is for my help or what a good friend I am. I don't feel like a good friend or a good person. I take the winding rural roads a bit too fast and almost wipe out a few times.

Sam's message is on my mind, so I head over to the police station. I park in front of the squat, stucco building and climb the stone steps. The desk sergeant is a girl I went to high school with, Maryellen Briggs. We didn't run in the same circles, but I heard a rumor she had a crush on me.

"How can I . . . help you?" She looks up from what she's doing and hesitates mid-sentence. I can tell she recognizes me.

The awkward, gangly girl from high school has been replaced by a capable looking police officer. Her hair is pulled back severely, but I bet if she left it loose and applied some makeup she'd be very pretty.

"Hey, how are you? Is Sam available?" When she hesitates, I tell her he left me a message.

Maryellen picks up the phone and dials an extension. "Is the chief in? Can you tell him Edward Cullen is here?" Her cheeks burn, and I guess it's because she didn't ask for my name. She hangs up the phone and clears her throat. "I'll buzz you in."

"Thanks, Maryellen." I smile at her and wink, ignoring her look of surprise.

I thread my way through a bunch of desks and head for Sam's corner office. The door is open, and he waves me in.

"Hey, Edward. Have a seat." Sam gestures to the battered chair across from his scarred wooden desk.

I sit and gaze around the room. There's a rickety bookshelf on one wall, filled with books and photos of his family. There are more pictures of his family on the walls and in frames on his crowded desk. It's obvious material things don't mean much to this guy, but family means everything.

He pulls a folder from a stack, opening the front flap. He licks a finger and pages through until he finds what he's looking for. "We were able to access some cameras in the area. The images are a bit grainy, and the perp was wearing dark clothing and a hoodie." He pulls a few pictures from the folder and lays them out facing me. "I thought if it's someone you're familiar with, you might recognize something that could help us identify them."

The angle of the pictures is from above the thief, leaving his face in the shadow of the hood. Everything he's wearing is black. "Maybe I could see the video?"

"Sure, man." Sam pulls out a laptop and works on bringing up the video. "Unfortunately, the investigation stalled out. No witnesses came forward, the quality of the video we did manage to get isn't very good, and none of the stolen items have been recovered. We've been checking pawn shops and street contacts, but it's not likely we'll get a hit since no high-value items were stolen." He turns the laptop toward me and starts the video.

What sticks out to me is the way the guy walks with confidence as if he has every right to be there. He doesn't skulk alongside the shop; he strides with purpose. I was hoping I'd recognize his gait or some other tell, but this guy isn't familiar at all. I shake my head, disappointed. "No. I don't recognize anything. Do you see the way he walks though—like he belongs and has every right to be there?"

Sam nods. "Yeah. This guy is arrogant and fully expects to be successful. No hesitation whatsoever. Usually we'd see some kind of caution, but he doesn't even look around to make sure nobody is watching. That's why I thought you might know him."

"No. Guess he's just a ballsy fucker. Maybe he was after something bigger and ran out of time. I have no idea what that might have been though. We don't keep much cash or valuables in the shop."

"Okay, Edward. Let me know if anything else comes up. Sorry I don't have better news for you." He rises and shakes my hand, walking me to the office door. I hesitate, and he asks if I thought of something.

"Well, it might be nothing . . ." I pull out my phone and bring up the odd text messages from this morning. "The number came from a texting app."

Sam reads the messages a few times, shaking his head. "Anonymous apps are the bane of my existence. There's really no way to trace them. You should see the bullshit I go through when some high schooler's mom comes in with a screenshot of threats. There's nothing I can do with this."

"I figured. Thanks, Sam."

"Wait a sec." He looks thoughtful. "Do Jimmy and Bella have any involvement in your business?"

"Jimmy's an investor, and Bella works in the shop sometimes though I don't think she started working until after the break-in."

Sam pats me on the arm. "Maybe this has something to do with Jimmy. Does he have any enemies?"

Phoenix, Ming Li, or possibly someone else from Fire Island, a place where the rich go to make their sick fantasies a reality.

"Not sure, but I'll check with him. Thanks, Sam."

On the drive to Inkspiration, I wonder what Jimmy was doing at Fire Island. He came from old money, so his family certainly fit the profile, but what need was he there to fulfill, and do I really want to open that Pandora's box?

Once I walk through the door of the shop, most of the angst and uncertainty I've been dealing with falls away. This is my jam. I set up my station and work with my clients. The day flies by, and I almost feel normal by the time I close up. I need normal.

Almost everyone has plans for the evening. I wander up to the roof, grab a beer, and lean against the brick wall, looking out over the city. The night is cool, and a mist-laden fog hovers in the air, muting the city lights.

I can tell when Jasper arrives because I recognize the scuff of his casual gait behind me. Jasper is the most laid-back person I know, and I'm glad if someone is going to join me this evening, it's him.

"Hey, Jas." I greet him without looking behind me.

He sidles up next to me, cracking open his own beer. "How'd you know it was me?"

"I can tell by your walk."

Jasper rests his arms on the wall beside me and looks out at the night. "What's ailing you, man? And don't say nothing because we both know it's bull." I remain silent, and he nudges me with his shoulder. "We've been friends for a long time, and I can read you pretty well. So what's going on between you and Bella?"

I smirk, staring out at the night, and take a long pull of my beer. "Go right for the jugular, why don't you? No dancing around on your watch."

He laughs. "I figured you've been doing enough dancing around with Bella. Thought you might find some straight shooting refreshing."

"Is this confidential? You're not going to discuss this with Ali?"

"Just between us. I'm here for you."

I put the bottle down on the ledge and slap my hands against the cool stone. "I'm in trouble, not gonna lie. Jimmy has been nothing but good to me, and I'm repaying him by falling for his girl." I rake through my hair roughly. "I have feelings for her even though I tried like hell not to. And, I think . . . I'm pretty sure she feels it too. But it's wrong, Jas! I'm a horrible person."

"She definitely feels something for you."

My heart speeds at his declaration, and a wave of hopeful adrenaline surges through me. I tamp it down quickly because I shouldn't be rejoicing about this—I should be horrified and ashamed.

Jas continues. "You know I'm an observer by nature. What I see is a sense of gratitude from Bella toward Jimmy. He rescued her, protects her. She watches him closely, taking his lead. It's more of a codependency than a relationship. Surely you see that."

"You're not wrong, but she tried to do the same thing with me while Jimmy was gone. I just—it's not me. I want an equal, not someone who hangs on my every word. But I've seen a streak of fire and independence in her. I think that's what's so attractive to me."

Jasper turns to me, a smirk playing across his lips. "And I bet your refusal to treat her like a pawn in a chess game is what attracts her to you. Don't get me wrong—I'm sure she's confused and feels a great deal of guilt about it, but you are the healthier option for her. I just don't know that getting involved with her is in your best interests."

My pulse races, dread and anticipation warring against one another inside me. Jasper's words ring true, but how do I reconcile my feelings or justify making a move on Bella? "What the fuck should I do?"

He pats me on the back. "You'll know what to do. Trust yourself. I do."

Tears prick my eyes, and I blink a few times because I don't want to look like an emotional pussy. When I have my expression under control, I look over at Jasper. "Thanks. That means a lot to me."

"You'll get through this. Ali and I are here for you, no matter what."

We bump fists and embrace in a one-armed hug. We have a few more beers and discuss mundane subjects, safe subjects. I go home feeling lighter than I have in weeks.

oOo

My sense of peace doesn't last long. Jimmy texts me toward the end of the day on Thursday.

Can you drive Bella home and stay for dinner? We should talk ~Jimmy

A powerful wave of foreboding crashes over me. I start typing a message saying that I already have plans for tonight and then erase it.

Sure thing ~E

Maybe Jimmy figured out I'm carrying a reluctant torch for Bella and wants to clear the air—let me know she belongs to him.

The past few days, Bella has barely glanced my way. When I go up front, she always has her head down, a fall of glossy hair concealing her face. If I speak to her, she's always friendly and polite, but there's something in her eyes, a guardedness.

I saunter out front, hanging back when I see Bella is preoccupied. She's speaking animatedly with a client, and her laugh wafts over to me like a spring breeze. It's so rare for Bella to laugh freely or seem relaxed.

Once Bella is alone again, she hums to herself while tidying the desk. Her demeanor completely changes when I come into the room. Her posture stiffens, and she drops a pen.

"Hey, so Jimmy wants me to bring you home and stay for dinner."

"Oh." She snatches the pen off the floor and pops it into the mug on the counter. Barely glancing at me, she nods. "Okay . . . sure."

I let her know I'll be ready in ten minutes and head back to my station to finish cleaning up. My hands shake slightly, and a sensation coils in the pit of my stomach, one that I've only had at the tippy top of a roller coaster. I sense the landscape is about to change in a significant way, and I almost cancel and tell Jimmy I don't feel well.

It will just happen tomorrow or the day after. Whatever it is, get it over with.

The ride to the farmhouse starts out awkward. Bella barely speaks, and she hides behind her hair.

"Bella, have I done something to make you uncomfortable?"

"No. You're great, and I love working at the shop!"

"And we love having you there. I mean me personally—have I done something? Because you are so easygoing and animated with our clients, but around me, you're just . . . " I let the sentence drift away, unsure how to finish it.

Silence.

Bella continues staring down at her hands.

I roll up to a stop sign and put the car in park. Gently, I move the hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear.

Bella startles, half turning toward me while simultaneously shifting her back against the door. "I don't know what you want me to say."

"The truth. Why are you uncomfortable around me?"

Twin patches of red stain her cheeks. "I don't know. S-sometimes you . . . suck all the air out of a room."

This isn't what I expected her to say, and my heart beats faster. "Bella—"

She closes her eyes and shakes her head. "I can't explain it well. Some men—like Phoenix—command such power that they drain the life, the will, right out of you. But with you . . . it's different. You have a powerful presence, but you make me feel like I can do anything. Phoenix is a demon, and you're . . . you're like an avenging angel." She ends on a slight sob.

"Isn't that a good thing?"

Bellla's lower lip trembles, and her gaze meets mine. "Not for me," she whispers.

I stare, noting the resignation in her eyes—the acceptance—and anger sizzles through me. Before I can speak, Bella leans forward swiftly, pressing her hand over my mouth.

"Whatever you were going to say, don't. Please, just don't."

After a moment, she removes her hand from my lips and turns away, allowing the curtain of her hair to create a barrier between us once more.

I take a few deep breaths before putting the car in gear. The rest of the ride is completely silent, but it's as if there's another presence in the car with us—a giant tangle of feelings and desires buried beneath the ice of an impenetrable amalgam of ingrained habits and grooming.

My lips tingle and burn where her fingers were, a feeling that persists after we park on the gravel, and Bella runs into Jimmy's waiting arms.

~oOo~

Sorry for the delays in posting. I've got a lot going on right now, but I'm here, and I'm trying. Thanks for being here with me.

This isn't a pretty story. There's a lot of tough times and raw emotion and references to abuse, grooming, and trafficking. I promise our favorite couple will find their way to each other and eventually their happy ending.

I post teasers and links to updates on Facebook in the No Rules Twilight Fan Fiction, The Twilight Fanfiction Finders, and It All Started With Twilight groups.

Thanks and gratefulness as always to my awesome betas, SassySue (chayasara) and Wendy (wmr1601). These ladies make my stuff much more presentable! (Translation: save me from sounding like a blathering fool)

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