Chapter 15: Broken
The following Sunday, Bella sat in the last pew, closest to the exit. The sermon hadn't started yet and people were still chatting by the doors or starting to settle into their seats. She scanned the parishioners for Jasper's blond head. Just when she had found him on the other side near the middle, talking to an elderly man, her eyes also landed on Andrew, who was now standing in her field of view, having seen her too. He caught her eye and immediately walked over.
"I was hoping to see you—" he started.
"I told you I didn't want to see you again," Bella cut him off.
"Oh—"
Her voice seemed to have caught Jasper's attention who stood and excused himself. Their eyes met for a moment, but that was enough for Bella to get up from her seat and start towards the door. He saw her—she fulfilled his request, hadn't she? Now it was time to go.
"Bella!"
Ugh, what! she screamed in her head, turning around. What do you want!
Jasper walked up in front of her and, without warning, pressed a gentle kiss to her lips.
Bella's first instinct was to struggle. She stiffened in outrage, an edge of panic climbing up her spine. Her hands scraped against the wooden pew before her palms slammed into his chest to push him back. He only kissed her harder, leaning into her until the wood dug into her hip. Then he drew back, soft mouth still lingering over hers and hands snaking around her waist and lower back, and smiled softly while Bella stared up at him, feeling as if she had turned to stone. He kissed her again and this time, the warm breath on her lips seemingly stealing her own. "I'm glad to see you."
"So it looks like you two have made up," Andrew said with an awkward smile. "Already planning the wedding?"
Jasper continued to smile and look into her eyes and Bella caught his pupils yawning wide and the imperceptible nod to have her play along.
Bella panicked. Was she supposed to pick between the two? One was a handsome man on the outside, but was older than the oldest person she knew, was a vampire, had a stupid personality, and liked killing people. The other was also a handsome man on the outside, but a dangerous psychopath that she had stabbed several times in the past.
Bella sidled up next to Jasper and grasped his arm. "It's a bit soon to be talking about that, right?" You've been chosen , she thought begrudgingly. He seemed delighted by this choice, given the return the small tilt in the corner of his lips.
"Well, maybe it's just me who wants it sooner. Because I love you so much."
Bella laughed uncomfortably, goosebumps erupting down her arms. "Ha…ha…what's next? Children?"
"Seems like I'm not the only one who wants to rush things," Jasper teased, pulling her closer to him. "Were you upset with me because I didn't propose? Don't worry, darling, I'll make sure it's grand." He cupped her face tenderly.
"My…god, Jasper," she said with a trembling voice and a fake smile plastered on her face. Asshole , she said in her head. If it weren't for us being in a public place, you'd be dead for saying this crap to me.
"Did I hear that right? Are you two engaged?" a woman asked in a high voice. This caught the attention of other parishioners and suddenly they were surrounded by people congratulating them and begging for the engagement story. They managed to escape from having to spare the details when the priest walked across the pulpit.
During mass, Bella stared daggers at Jasper, who wore a pleasant expression as he listened to the sermon.
"What's wrong," he whispered, not looking at her.
Bella imagined punching him in the face, finding it incomprehensible the amount of nerve he could have. You're in church, Bella. Don't resort to violence.
"What is up with you?" she whispered. "Why are you so interested in Andrew? You mentioned you'd handle him, but is it because you're just hungry and want to hunt?"
"Yes, I want to hunt," he said quickly.
Bella peeked over and to her shock, Jasper had his hands clasped together in prayer, head tilted up to the heavens, his eyes wild and dark as a storm, and a serene expression upon his face. As if he were envisioning the pleasure of torturing and killing a man. The priest's words faded into the background—she couldn't take her eyes off of him for some time.
After mass, people began to approach them again to hear about their "love story". Bella briefly caught Gina congratulating herself to a couple other women about being the one to bring the two together.
"Thank you so much!" Bella thanked the group surrounding them. "Jasper, why don't you tell them how we met and got together from start to present? He knows the story so well." She promised to see everyone next week and excused herself. As she left the church, she looked back to see Jasper's eyes following her out. Serves you right! She flashed him a cheeky smile and watched him take a deep breath before starting off a lie that she was semi-interested in hearing about next week.
Once she was outside, she exhaled, eyes closed and revealing in the warming air.
"Bella?"
She snapped her eyes open.
"Were you waiting for me?" she asked and brushed past Andrew.
"Bella, I'm sorry," Andrew said, trying to grab her shoulder. He let go quickly when Bella dipped her shoulder, shying away from his touch. He looked hurt and his eyes were shining with a film of tears. "I'm sorry for what happened last year. I can't stop thinking about how everything…how fucked up everything turned out." He ran his fingers nervously through his hair, landing absentmindedly on the back of his neck, the skin littered with jagged pink scars. "I'm happy you're with someone who clearly cares a lot about you. I just wanted to say goodbye."
She faltered in her step backwards from him, her eyebrows furrowed, trying to figure out what he was getting at. She gave him no indication she accepted what he said as she turned from him and walked away.
Sorry ? She cursed silently under her breath. What does that solve?
Bella hesitated at the edge of the parking lot. As long as this means he stays away from me, at least that solves one problem .
She felt Jasper brush up next to her.
But I still have one problem left.
Bella walked Rosalie home from a UNICEF meeting, both sipping hot chocolate from paper cups. Rosalie, over the last month, had taken to the habit of accompanying Bella frequently for even the smallest errands like grocery shopping or club meetings. Bella didn't mind too much recently. In fact, she was starting to occasionally enjoy Rosalie's company and her dry humor. Tonight, her friends had taken to Rosalie quickly during the meeting, especially Stephanie with her eyes sparkling over Rosalie's designer clothes.
"She's creepy," Rosalie deadpanned.
"What? Why do you think that?"
"She would not stop talking about urine and public toilets and ' urine good company' . Disgusting girl." Rosalie clicked her tongue in disapproval.
Bella's jaw dropped. Then she burst into laughter, nearly spilling her hot chocolate on herself. "Oh my god, I can't wait to tell her this. Rose, she's talking about the musical she's in called Urinetown. It's actually pretty good!"
Rosalie shot her a look of absolute horror and disgust but her face quickly fell when she spotted something behind Bella. They were about to pass light poles with flyers of the three missing people murdered by Mr. Marsala and errant posters of Christine's or Jason's smiling faces and instantly, the hot chocolate immediately curdled in Bella's stomach.
"Hey, how long are you planning to stay in Seattle?" Bella asked suddenly. "You've been here for over a month and Jasper's starting to bother me about it."
"Just ignore him, he's just bored," Rosalie replied, her voice muffled in the cup.
"Okay, then can you just resolve whatever is going on between you two? I don't want him to come near me again."
Rosalie whipped her head to glare at her but Bella refused to meet her fiery eyes. She had meant it when she said she didn't want to deal with vampires again and no matter how well she got along with Rosalie, it didn't feel worth what she had been through,
Rosalie remained quiet after that.
They parted ways at the quad, Rosalie just nodding goodbye, still angry about what Bella had said. Bella thought about calling after her and apologizing but held her tongue and walked the other way. She went to the library to catch up on homework while keeping Jen and Tina company. They were the only two that were still warm towards her with Stephanie and Rupa preferring not to see Bella outside of campus related activities.
They worked in amicable silence at the start but an hour in, they started chatting like they normally did when any of them were together. Jen had an amazing internship at NYU medical school in New York. Tina thought her boyfriend might propose next year.
Bella smiled, genuinely happy for her friends. But it didn't stop the stab of envy at the fact that her friends were moving on with amazing lives ahead of them. Realistically, Bella knew that such a future was available to her as well, except, deep inside, the truth lay clear: how long could she escape before the next monster found her?
Bella trudged up the stairs to her apartment with a sour mood, knowing Rosalie would be upstairs—probably finishing off the trail mix Bella had been saving, just to spite her. But as she neared the top, a dark silhouette loomed in the stairwell, blocking her path. Instinctively, Bella moved aside to let them pass, but when the figure remained stationary, she raised her eyes to meet theirs. Her heart plummeted like a stone in a well.
Andrew.
The sight of him sent a shockwave through her system, a cry of anguish starting in her throat. "I knew it," she choked out, her voice barely above a whisper, "You haven't changed at all."
He stood there, white as a sheet, wearing an expression of abject horror. His chest heaved with rapid, shallow breaths, and the smattering of scars on his neck were shiny with fresh cuts. Without warning, he surged down the stairs towards her. "Listen to me—" he began in desperation.
"Get away from me!" Bella screamed, voice echoing in the narrow stairwell. She stumbled backward, nearly losing her footing on the stairs.
Andrew's hand shot out, gripping her arm so tightly that made her wince. "I'm here because I'm worried about you!" he pleaded, his eyes wild. "I hate it without you! And that guy you're with—he's dangerous!"
"Stop it!" Bella snarled, yanking her arm free with such a force that she nearly toppled over. She shoved him hard, her palms connecting with his chest. "Do you think I'm the same innocent girl as before? Think again! I was in jail because of you! People still call me a whore behind my back because of you!" Her voice rose with every accusation, fueled by more than a year of pent-up rage and humiliation. "I'll call the cops right now! I don't care what excuses you have, but I have nothing to lose."
A sinister smile suddenly crept across Andrew's face, his eyes glinting with malice. "Is that wise, Bella? For you to call the cops?" His voice dropped to a whisper. "Because I"ll drag you down with me. I saw the video on your laptop."
Bella froze, her mind racing to decipher what he meant, and then the realization hit her like a bucket of ice water.
The video.
The fucking dashcam video.
Her dragging Mr. Marsala's limp body in front of her car, Jasper feeding off of him.
That fucking video.
"What do you want from me?" she whispered, her voice barely audible over the pounding of her heart.
Andrew's face softened as he stepped closer. "Let's go back to how things used to be," he murmured, enveloping her into his arms. The familiar scent of his cologne made her stomach churn. "Bella, let's get back together. I love you."
With a burst of strength born from desperation, Bella wrenched herself free and bolted up the remaining stairs. She fumbled with her keyes, her hands shaking as she unlocked her apartment door and slammed it shut behind her.
Inside, Rosalie lounged in Bella's favorite chair, a half-empty bag of trail mix balanced on her knee. She raised an eyebrow at Bella's disheveled appearance. "You look like you've seen a ghost," she remarked dryly.
Bella's eyes darted around the room, searching for any sign of disturbance. "Has anyone been in here?" she demanded, her voice trembling.
Rosalie shrugged, popping another handful of trail mix into her mouth. "Yeah, your ex. Charming guy," she added sarcastically.
"What!" Bella exclaimed, her face draining of color. "Why did you let him inside?"
"I didn't 'let him inside.' He was already here when I came home. He was looking at your laptop," Rosalie continued, seemingly oblivious to Bella's mounting panic. "Said he 'forgot something important'." Rosalie tracked her as her legs gave away, and sank to the floor, her back against the door.
Not only was there footage of her involvement with Mr. Marsala, but also the video of Victoria and Jasper bursting through her old apartment bedroom—irrefutable evidence of the supernatural world she'd become entangled in.
"I gave him a little souvenir to remember me by," Rosalie said, a wicked smile playing on her lips as she curled her fingers under her chin. Bella noticed the spray of blood coating Rosalie's perfectly manicured nails. A wave of exhaustion washed over her, threatening to pull her under.
"My spyware footage was on that laptop," Bella said numbly.
Rosalie's brow furrowed. "What spyware?"
With a weary sigh, Bella explained how she had installed cameras to catch Jasper harassing or threatening her. Instead, she had captured incriminating footage of both herself and Jasper.
"Bella…" Rosalie's voice trailed off.
"I know…" Bella responded, her voice hollow. "I thought maybe I could keep it as a safety net just in case Jasper broke his promise."
Rosalie's eyes narrowed in thought. "He won't be able to report you. How could he when he'd have to admit he was in your apartment to find that footage?"
Bella nodded, feeling a flicker of relief, but the knot of anxiety in her stomach refused to uncoil completely. Suddenly, a terrifying thought struck her. She bolted to her feet, nearly knocking over the chair in her haste.
"My laptop," she gasped, stumbling towards the bedroom.
Her fingers trembled as she opened her laptop, the screen flickering to life. Relief washed over her for a split second as she saw her familiar desktop background. But that relief was very short-lived.
Her email client was open, a sent message glaring at her from the screen. The subject line read: "Thought you mind find these interesting." Two attachments were listed below: "dashcam_ 4" and "apartment_ 4".
The recipient: Andrew Walton.
Bella's blood ran cold. She felt as if the floor had disappeared beneath her feet, leaving her in a terrifying free fall. "No, no, no," she muttered. Her fingers flew over the keyboard, desperately trying to recall the email, to find some way to undo what had been done. But she knew, deep down, it was futile. The damage was done.
She slumped back in her chair, her mind reeling.
"Bella?" Rosalie's voice came from the doorway, tinged with uncharacteristic concern. "What's wrong?"
Bella turned to her, her face a mask of despair. "He…He emailed himself the videos. Both of them. He has everything now."
Rosalie's eyes widened. "Shit," she whispered.
Over the next few days, paranoia became Bella's constant companion. Sleep eluded her, and when it did come, it was filled with nightmares of Andrew's leering face and grasping hands. She'd jolt awake, gasping for air, sheets tangled around her legs like restraints, the phantom sensation of unwelcome touches ghosting across her skin.
Her apartment, once a sanctuary, now felt like a trap. Every creak of the floorboards, every shadow cast by passing headlights, became a potential threat. She found herself checking and rechecking the locks, peering through the peephole at odd hours, half-expecting to see Andrew's eye staring back at her, no matter how many times Rosalie reassured her that she wouldn't let Andrew enter the apartment ever again.
Andrew's face seemed to lurk in every shadow, every reflection.
Every ping from her phone sent her into a panic. Was it Andrew, taunting her with what he knew?. She obsessively scoured online news sites, dreading the moment her videos might surface.
In public, Bella felt exposed, as if everyone could see the guilt written across her face. She'd catch glimpses of familiar figures in store windows or rear-view mirror, only to whip around and find strangers staring back at her in confusion. Once, she spent ten minutes hiding in a grocery store aisle, convinced she'd seen Andrew browsing the produce section.
Bella felt herself fraying at the edges.
On the fifth day, as she slid into her car, a splitting headache pounding behind her eyes, Bella felt as if she was at her breaking point. The constant vigilance, the endless cycle of fear and anticipation, had worn her down to her very core.
She drove to her local gas station to fill up, her knuckles white on the steering wheel, her eyes darting from mirror to mirror. As she drove toward the gas station, a flash of familiar brown hair caught her eyes. Her breath hitched.
Her phone buzzed, the screen lighting up with an incoming call. With trembling fingers, she answered, bringing the phone to her ear.
His voice, smooth and infuriatingly calm, slithered through the speaker: "Heading home?"
In a daze, she drove past the gas station and kept driving aimlessly for a few miles before pulling over near a nondescript building, her nerves fraying to a breaking point. "Come out!" she screamed into the empty street. "Show yourself, you fucker! Come out!"
As if in answer to her cry, the sky opened up, rain pouring down in sheets. Bella stood there, chest heaving, feeling utterly defeated. I shouldn't have stabbed him. I should have held myself back. I should have screamed for help. If only I hadn't done that to him, I wouldn't be living like this.
"What should I do?" she cried out, her words swallowed by the storm. "How long do I have to fight? How long before I can finally live like a human being again? What do I do?"
The litany of regrets poured out of her like the rain. I shouldn't have ever met Andrew. I shouldn't have dated him. I shouldn't have tried to find out what Jasper was hiding. I shouldn't have brought Mr. Marsala to his home.
Her tears mingled with the rain, and she looked up at the weeping sky, a sudden clarity settling over her. Is it my fault? I feel so numb. My strength was the only thing I could say I was proud of and now it's waning…no, it's destroyed.
She fell to her hands and knees, allowing the rain to wash away her fears. Suddenly the downpour ceased above her, replaced by the soft pitter patter of raindrops against plastic. A pair of large black boots appeared in her field of vision.
"You've been waiting for things to get this bad, right?" she said, her voice barely audible over the rain, though she knew he could hear her. Until I'm completely broken, body and soul." She lifted her head, aware of the cruel, hateful expression twisting her features. "Are you happy? Did things happen exactly as you expected?"
Jasper remained impassive, his eyes devoid of cruelty or glee. He simply observed her, his gaze clinical and detached.
"I'm not sorry," Bella spat out.
"I didn't say anything," Jasper responded, his voice unnervingly calm.
"I'm not sorry! So stop looking at me that way!" Fresh tears spilled down her cheeks, hot against her rain-chilled skin.
"Do you want me to kill him?" Jasper asked calmly, as if he were offering to pick up groceries.
Bella's head snapped up, desperation etched in every line of her face.
"Of course, with a little help from you," he added, a hint of amusement coloring his words.
"...Yes." The words fell from her lips like a stone.
"Okay," he said softly, as if sealing a pact.
Slowly, Bella rose to her feet, her legs trembling beneath her. "I'll help you get a taste of it. That hunt you crave so badly."
A flash of fangs gleamed in the dim light as Jasper smiled.
I don't know how far I will fall now, or what ground I will splatter across. One thing for sure: if I'm going down…
Bella knocked the umbrella out of Jasper's hand, watching it tumble away in the wind. Fat droplets soaked his black shirt, trickling from the tips of his golden hair. He swiped a stray drop from his lip, his smile widening.
I will not go down alone.
The world spun around Bella, and she stumbled forward. Jasper's hands caught her gently by the shoulders, tracing a delicate path to her back. "Just make sure," she gasped, her breath coming in short pants, "that you do it properly."
He held her tighter, leaning down to whisper in her right ear. "Of course," his voice was silk against her skin. "With your help, we'll make sure of it." A low chuckle rumbled in his chest as an errant hand ran through the ends of her hair.
I'll get rid of Andrew, Bella thought, a grim determination settling over her. And then I'll get rid of you.
"Cold," Bella whimpered, the word escaping her lips like a painted breath. Her body shivered, caught in the grip of a feverish chill that seemed to seep into her bones.
The mattress dipped beside her, a sudden weight that sent a ripple through her awareness. A large hand, impossibly warm against her icy skin, settled on her forehead. The touch was gentle, almost reverent.
"Nice," she whispered. Her eyelids fluttered, heavy and resistant. Through the haze of bleariness, she could make out a halo of golden hair hovering above her. Jasper's hand felt like a balm against her fevered skin, and Bella instinctively leaned into it until his palm cradled half her face.
With a sluggish movement, she raised her own hand, placing it on the lower half of his face. His features came into sharper focus, and she found herself staring into his eyes. But they weren't the piercing amber or blood red she expected. Instead, they were a warm, soft brown, filled with an emotion she couldn't quite place.
Slowly, almost dreamily, she slid her hands down, exploring the contours of his face. Her fingertips traced the smooth skin of his cheeks, the silky softness of his lips, the hint of stubble that roughened his throat. Her hands paused at the base of his neck, and there, beneath her fingers, she felt something impossible—a slow steady heartbeat.
She spread her hands lightly around his neck, marveling at the warmth, the undeniable life pulsing beneath her touch.
"Go ahead," he told her, his voice a low rumble that she felt more than heard. "Do it."
His neck was too big for her hands, the column of his throat solid and unyielding. She felt a tension shimmering through him, a tightening in his body that spoke of anticipation. A sound vibrated in his throat, caught between a growl and a purr.
With a start, Bella realized she was hurting him. Her hands, weak as they were, were somehow strangling him. Color swept up his neck, a flush of life that shouldn't be possible. When he pinned her with his gaze, eyes still that impossible warm brown, she knew something was coming.
He began to laugh.
The sound started low, a rumble in his chest, before building to a crescendo that shattered the dreamscape around her.
Bella's eyes snapped open, the laughter still echoing in her ears. She was in her apartment, the familiar ceiling swimming into focus above her. A figure hovered nearby, and for a moment, her heart leapt, thinking it was Jasper.
No, it was Rosalie, her perfect features set in a mask of irritation as she placed a cold, damp cloth on Bella's forehead.
"Are you dumb?" Rosalie asked her. "What were you doing out in the rain like that?"
Bella turned her head, exhaustion weighing heavily on her limbs. A rush of intense emotions washed over her, and she felt the tears spring unbidden to her eyes. Despite Rosalie's cold demeanor and biting words, she had stayed. She had cared for Bella, in her own way, and had ultimately made her feel safe.
The realization hit Bella with the force of a physical blow. Her voice was thick with emotion when she finally spoke, the words tumbling out before she could stop them.
"If I had a sister," she whispered, barely lucid, her gaze locked on Rosalie's surprised face, "I'd hope she was like you."
Rosalie stared at her. The admission hung in the air between them, fragile and unexpected. Then, Rosalie smiled.