"The most frightening nightmares are the ones that laugh at you."
~Me
BPOV
This was a dream, and my dad, Charlie, was drinking again. Therefore, it was more like a nightmare. It was always clear that he had reached his maximum level of intoxication when he started to laugh at everything.
The chaos of the particular night that was featured in this dream began when I walked into the living room, and my father threw an empty beer bottle at me while laughing his maniacal laugh. The bottle hit me in the stomach, and I stumbled back at the impact.
I asked where my mother was, and he answered with, “Hell if I know. Now get your ass in the kitchen and get me another beer.”
I could feel the sting from the bottle on my stomach, and with tears already brewing, I staggered my way to the fridge. Before I even reached my hand out to the handle, his drunken voice rang out again.
“What the fuck is taking so long?!”
I froze.
Please don’t come in here.
Time stopped as I waited for his next move. I could hear my own rapid breathing along with the distinct pound of his boots becoming as loud and threatening as a jackhammer.
And suddenly his dirty fingers dug into my shoulder, and I was flung to the tile floor. I could feel the pain reverberate through my entire head when it forcefully smacked against the hard floor.
I looked at my dad’s face, and he only laughed again.
“Get up. You look stupid laying down there on the floor.”
His voice sounded as if he were speaking into a tunnel, and my vision became hazy while I struggled to obey and stand up. I was unable to and only made it to my knees before I collapsed to the floor again, landing on my back.
When I heard laughter bellowing from him even louder, I knew he was watching me, disgustingly amused by the cruelty he was imposing on me.
I laid flat on my back and wished he would just finally kill me to spare me of this pain, this indignity.
Instead, he threw the fridge open, and his form disappeared behind the door.
“Damnit!” He yelled. “I’m out of beer!”
He slammed the door shut.
I stayed still. My head was throbbing, and the ceiling was spinning, making me feel like I was sinking into the earth.
Oh, how I wish I was.
Although this was a dream, I could remember that I began to drift away as I laid on that floor, my entire being aching for an escape, and my eyes fell closed.
I cried out a second later when I felt his fingers wrap around my forearm, and he yanked me up roughly, forcing me to my feet. The taste of fear was so potent in my mouth that I nearly gagged as I swayed from dizziness and my hand searched for something to brace myself.
“I told you to get up, girl!” He spat at me. “I swear to God, you’re fucking useless!”
I said nothing in response and clung to the stove since the entire room was now spinning. I breathed through my nose, fighting with all my willpower to stall the tears that were threatening to escape down my face.
The pain in my head was becoming more localized but was not letting up at all. A stabbing sensation was present at a particular spot on the back of my head, and I placed my hand to it.
This terrible dream brought all the memories of that night with it.
Memories of the blood that spotted my fingers after I touched my injured scalp.
Memories of my father’s drunken laughter.
And memories of him walking out the front door, informing me that he was going to get more beer and that he’d be back in an hour.
It was the last night I saw my father alive.
As he stepped out of the house, he left me with parting words that continually haunted me in my nightmares ever since.
“When I get back, I may bring my gun in, and I may use it….on you or me.”
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I wailed a shrill inhuman wail as I pulled myself from sleep.
It sounded like a “dying animal”, as the saying goes.
A chill hit me immediately, and I felt the cold sweat dripping from my skin and falling onto the already soaked bedding.
I wasn’t sure of where I was. All that registered was the sound of my screaming, the terror of my father’s last words, and that fact that I felt and was completely alone.
Then suddenly I was surrounded. I was encased in what felt like a thousand arms, each one providing its own amount of soothing comfort.
I grasped onto the form that was holding me, knowing nothing else except that it felt right and safe.
Then his voice broke through my cries. “Bella, it’s okay. I’m here.”
EPOV
I was in bed when her tortured scream yanked me from sleep, and I nearly jumped out of my skin at the sound of it. I panicked, not having a clue of what the fuck was going on. I didn’t even think as I ordinarily would have and dashed straight to her room, desperate to rid her of whatever or whoever was making her cry out like that.
I could barely see in the faint glow coming through the blinds of the window. But her piercing scream aided in finding her without difficulty.
I went to her quickly and sat on the bed. Reaching down, I wound my arms around her waist then immediately pulled her into a tight embrace.
I started to rock her gently and rub small circles onto her back as she clung to me, wrapping her arms around my neck and still crying loudly. The way she held on to me suggested that she realized it was me, but I couldn’t be certain. So I decided to say something, anything.
“Bella, it’s okay. I’m here.”
Then the worst and best possible thing happened.
First, she called out my name in an airy strangled voice that damn near broke my heart. She then pulled back and with a delectable force that almost shook me to the core, smashed her mouth on mine.
The instant our lips connected, I was overwhelmed with bewilderment, and I didn’t know what to do. My desire for her that I had attempted to keep dormant took hold of me again. And as much as I knew I should have, I couldn’t bring myself to break the kiss.
The atmosphere changed in that half a minute that our faces were pressed together.
The waves of anxiety and fear that had been crashing about the room disappeared. And it was suddenly quiet but for the mundane sounds of the clock ticking on the wall and the air blowing through the vent above our heads.
I kept my eyes tightly closed the whole time. A hard line formed in my forehead as I fought with all my strength not to kiss her back.
I lost that battle and fully pressed my lips to hers with an equal amount of force. I was absorbing as much as I could of her sweet mouth before she abruptly ended the kiss and returned her head to the crook of my neck with an exasperated sigh.
Although it had only lasted mere seconds, the kiss left its mark on me. My lips burned for more while my mind teetered on the line between elation and frustration.
I knew we had crossed a boundary, and we were now in dangerous territory that we would most likely not be able to come back from.
The exchange of miniscule physical contact we had just shared was pretty much the single most intimate experience of my life. There had been plenty of women and even the screamers couldn’t match the quiet intensity that Bella had just kissed me with.
I knew that as much as I wracked my brain, I would never be able to pin point what brought her to kiss me. Whether she acted out of impulse or overwhelming relief, I was still astounded by her total lack of inhibition, her ability to make me shudder just by putting her lips on mine.
I continued to shush her through gritted teeth and a clenched jaw as I tried to regain my composure.
She eventually calmed, and as I continued to hold her, I asked, “Are you okay?”
She sniffled. “Not really.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“I was dreaming about the last night I saw my father before he died.” She stopped, sniffled again then took a deep breath. “When my dad drank, he would get…mean. He would laugh a lot and get violent.”
I exhaled sharply, knowing the meaning behind her words and already disliking her deceased father. “So he hit you?”
She shook her head against my neck. “Not every time. Only when I tried to talk to him.”
My eyes widened.
Only when she tried to talk to him?…Was that supposed to make it all right?!
“It’s not okay that he hit you, Bella.” I told her quietly.
She took in my words passively and continued, “He threatened me with his gun before he left the house in his truck. I never saw him again after that night.”
An accident. I now understood what she meant when she had said it previously.
I was angry. Angry at the mother fucker for treating her so horribly and then threatening her life when she had done nothing to deserve it. The fact that he was dead almost made me relieved because I would have been tempted to track him down and kill him myself.
I took a deep breath in an attempt to subdue my growing animosity.
She pulled away slightly, so that my hands were no longer wrapped around her waist but were barely resting on it.
We were face to face now. Lines of tears glistened on her face in the pale light, and I brushed them off with my thumb.
“Bella, why don’t you take one of the Valiums Dr. Honaker prescribed for you?” I asked, knowing it would be the best way to alleviate her stress.
Her expression turned frightened, and I immediately became concerned.
“I don’t like being drugged.”
“It’ll help you sleep.” I said gently, trying to reason with her. But then something she had just said struck me, and I was suddenly attacked by curiosity. Her aversion to anything to do with doctors and meds was obvious, but I had never had the gull to ask why.
“Can I ask you something?”
She eyed me warily. “Okay.”
“Why don’t you like doctors and medications?”
She diverted her attention down to her lap. “I had to talk to doctors after my dad died. I told them about the abuse and all the drinking. Then they asked if he ever…assaulted me, and I told them he hadn’t. But they checked me anyway.”
She was becoming visibly uneasy. Her breathing quickened and fresh tears were beginning to form. I could feel my own throat burn as I was consumed with sympathy for her. Never had I met somebody who had been through so much yet was still managing to endure. After what she had just shared with me, I didn’t blame her for not liking doctors and for not wanting to take the medications; Too many memories were probably dragged up.
I lowered my head closer to hers, willing her to look up at me. “I understand.” I whispered, dropping the issue of the Valium and inadvertently saving her from becoming more upset.
She nodded, giving me a small smile, and said, “Thanks.”
I calculated my next words carefully. I needed to convey that I would be there for her, but I also didn’t want to scare her.
I looked into her eyes and nervously asked, “Are you gonna be okay? Or do you need me to stay? Because I’ll sit in this room all night if you ask me to.”
She didn’t answer at first but only looked back at me in stunned silence. Then her lips gradually turned up into a light clumsy smile.
“Um,” she started, “that’s okay, Edward. I should be all right now. Nightmares usually only come once a night.” She shrugged.
Her words were not going to ease my worry, and I prepared myself for a restless night.
I assured her once again that I would come back if she needed me, then left the room, feeling like I was walking out of a dream.
The shock of the chaste kiss almost made me think I had imagined it. But I knew it was real, and I knew it was very wrong.
The feelings that I was forming for Bella were entirely improper. My job was to protect her and provide her with a place to stay. I was not supposed to fall for her. But as much as I would try to fight it, I knew my feelings for her were solidified the moment her lips touched mine.
I walked to my bedroom reluctantly as I was now conflicted with wanting to stay so she’d feel safe, and just simply wanting to stay to be near her.
I laid awake in my bed, dreading the next day that was going to be equally challenging. I would be spending the day at the crime scene and away from Bella.
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The crime scene left us with virtually nothing to work with. The crime lab found no unidentifiable prints (indicating gloves were most likely used), no questionable fibers or hairs, and all the blood in the room matched the DNA of the victim.
It was the first day Newton and I had been allowed to walk the scene thoroughly, but we worried it wouldn’t help much. All the neighbors had been checked out and had alibis, and the family could not come up with any enemies or even a jilted lover.
Lauren Mallory appeared to be a good girl.
We walked into the bedroom and noticed the spot where Lauren Mallory’s body had laid. She, of course, was no longer there and a large brownish stain from the blood pool was left in her place.
The armoire where I had found Bella grabbed my attention next, and my breath hitched as overlapping memories flooded my mind. Most of them featured Bella’s various panicked expressions as she sat inside.
“Cullen.” I heard Newton call behind me.
I blinked, pushing her face from my thoughts so I could focus on the job. “Yeah.”
“You gonna get to work anytime soon?” He mocked.
Fuck you, prick.
“I am working, Newton. What the hell are you doing?”
“I call it a walk-through. You know, part of the job.”
I turned to him, my foot itching to meet with his balls in an aggressive fashion.
I chuckled and shook my head. “Then let’s get walking, rookie.”
We started in the living room, where Newton bagged a receipt that he found on an end table that was dated the presumed day of the murder.
“So Cullen, you got the Swan girl staying with you, I hear.”
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, what about it?”
He shrugged. “Nothing. She’s cute. I was just wondering what your personal policy is on mixing business with pleasure.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Newton, I’m only going to say this once: Nothing like that is going on, and shut the fuck up about it. Got that?”
He put his hands up as if to signal his surrender and laughed. “Hey man, your touchiness speaks volumes, but don’t worry. I won’t say shit about it anymore.”
I nodded, satisfied that he would at least keep his mouth shut and proceeded to the small kitchen.
An empty glass with a white ring at the bottom sat on the counter, and I bagged it, knowing it was likely nothing of importance.
Slightly withered daisies and dandelions were in a vase on the windowsill. I glanced at them passively and was about to turn my head when something in the sunlight caught my eye.
I stepped forward, my gaze focused on a particular spot beyond the vase of flowers.
I was looking at the outer windowsill, where a collection of dust had accumulated over time. But the sun shining on it lit up something in the dust, something that could be easily missed by inattentive eyes.
I squinted and leaned over the counter to get a better look.
“That’s interesting.”
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Let me know what you think!
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Chapter 4: The Gentle Evaluation
"He who asks questions, cannot avoid the answers."
~African Proverb
EPOV
Just the idea of stepping inside the room after the bathroom fantasy I had just had about her caused a riot in my gut that I could not control.
The only thing that pushed me forward into the bedroom was Bella’s expression. It revealed a hint of excitement when she spotted me in the doorway.
I slowly approached her, and the closer I got, the more her eyes danced.
“Sorry if I’m disturbing you.” I said as I stopped at the foot of the bed and deeply inhaled the intoxicating aroma of lavender soap that swirled in the air.
I took slight notice of her eyes bashfully gliding over the length of my body, but for the sake of not feeling awkward, I chose to ignore it.
“You’re not disturbing me at all.” She responded shyly.
We both fell silent, unsure of what to say next, and I looked down, fidgeting my feet.
“Do you want to sit down?” She asked while patting a spot on the bed.
I grinned at her and nervously took a place on the edge of the bed, pleased at the fact that she was inviting me to stay.
She scooted, positioning herself in the center of the bed and crossed her legs to sit Indian style. Her timid smile and the crimson radiating from her cheeks did not waver as we both got comfortable, and I had to contain my smirk by biting on my lip and looking away from her.
“Thank you.” She abruptly said, and I snapped my head back in her direction.
“For what?”
She pushed a hand through her damp long hair, and her blush increased. “For letting me stay here, for buying me clothes. For everything.” She shrugged.
I smiled and waved her off politely. “It’s no big deal, Miss Swan. It’s my pleasure actually.”
My smile fell a bit when she suddenly glanced at me seriously through her eyelashes, as though something I said annoyed her.
“You can call me Bella.” There was tentativeness in her tone as she spoke.
“Of course. I mean, Bella.” I chuckled and felt like a complete dumbass.
She simply shook her head amusingly and giggled in response.
I knew that the conversation we were about to have needed to steer clear of the subject of Lauren Mallory. As good as my intentions would be, there was no way I would risk potentially subjecting her to another panic attack.
Plus, I couldn’t deny that I was more curious to learn about Bella herself.
First, I had to overcome the awkwardness of having just seen her half-naked in my imagination.
Don’t think about that shit right now!
“So, Bella, you’re from Phoenix?”
“Yeah, originally. But I consider this town my home now. There’s nothing for me in Phoenix.”
“Do you not have any family there?”
Tension crossed her face at my question, and I feared I had somehow fucked up.
“No.” She mumbled, picked at her hair.
Change the subject…
“Why’d you choose to move here?” I asked, hoping this was not another touchy subject.
The tension was still there as she gazed at the cheap black comforter.
But she offered, “My dad is dead, and my mom took off with her boyfriend, Phil, a couple years later. I guess you could say she abandoned me. I was trying to get to Seattle but didn’t make it that far.”
My mouth dropped. I did not expect her to be so forthcoming with me about her life. I figured it would take some incessant coaxing to get even one detail from her.
“Sorry about your parents. That’s shitty.” I said lamely.
She just shrugged her shoulders. “There wasn’t a whole lot of love between me and Mom, especially after my dad died.”
“How did he die?”
“An accident.”
Questions were plaguing me. Questions I didn’t dare ask but was desperate to ask echoed in my mind.
She seemed to speak of the sad events in her life in such a casual manner, but I had to wonder if inside she was secretly weeping.
My hand twitched as if it were pleading with me to be joined with hers.
“What was in Seattle?” I inquired, aching to know more and reverting back to her earlier comment.
She looked at me dead in the eyes finally and a grin played on her full lips. “Nothing.”
I sighed. “Which means you have nowhere to go.” It came out more as a statement rather than a question.
“I never did.”
I took the opportunity to get closer to her as the electricity I had felt previously returned in full force between us. My chest constricted in response, and my movements became uncoordinated as a result of it.
I positioned myself directly in front of her and crossed my legs in a way that mirrored hers.
Her cheeks still held the lovely burning color of crimson as she eyed me questionably. But instead of leaning away from my close proximity, her body seemed to every so slightly advance towards mine. And she almost appeared to be holding her breath.
“You do have somewhere to go. You can stay here as long as you need to, Bella.” I told her.
With a smile, she exhaled heavily and slumped her shoulders. “Why?”
I knew what she was asking. Why was I being so nice to her? Why was I inviting her to stay?
Why did she so quickly matter to me this much?
Considering I knew the answers but hardly understood them myself, I merely replied with, “I have my reasons, but I’ll only tell you two of them: I need to make sure you’re safe, and I enjoy your company.”
I couldn’t tell her that I was strangely protective of her, that I saw her gentle fragileness as endearing. And I surely couldn’t tell her that I was insanely attracted to her petite figure and her pale creamy skin.
I suddenly noticed that in the short amount of time we had been sitting face to face, we had managed to inch close enough that our kneecaps were now flush against each others’.
And my hand was now screaming to touch hers.
I swallowed loudly and with shaky breaths, I reached out and ghosted my hand over one of hers that was resting on her lap.
This shouldn’t be happening…
I ignored the thought and kept my eyes fixed on hers while increasing the pressure on her hand.
Staring back at me, she moved her fingers up and applied equal pressure.
We kept responding to each other’s touch until I was fully grasping her hand, and I let out an audible sigh.
The movement of our hands brought us gradually closer, and for a fleeting moment, the loose fitted shirt she wore pulled away from her neck, exposing a flash of the alabaster skin of her collar bone.
I felt the pound of my heart behind my ears as my eyes took in the sliver of beautiful flesh.
Bella was fast becoming the most naked girl with clothes on I had ever seen.
At this point, her expression seemed to radiate restrained excitement laced with uncertainty, like she was experiencing something entirely indecent for the first time.
In spite of my growing desire to graze those flaming red cheeks with my fingertips and cup the soft skin of her neck, I gave her hand a gentle squeeze and unwillingly let go, smiling brightly at her. “Just make yourself at home, okay?”
Her face fell a bit, and the gleam in her eyes faded as she nodded politely, “Thanks.”
I made a move to stand but stopped when she spoke again. “Edward.”
The sound of my name rolling off her lips for the first time nearly made me lose my breath. It felt thrilling to hear her delicate vocal cords pronounce each syllable, and I gladly sat back down, allowing her to continue.
“You really don’t think I’m crazy?”
I creased my brow out of both confusion and shock that she would be willing to discuss any aspect of the murder.
“I really don’t think you’re crazy. Shit, you’ve just been through something pretty horrible. It’s no wonder your mind is blocking it out.”
She sighed. “Then what is this doctor gonna do to me? Hypnotize me? Make me look at pictures of ink blots? Prescribe me an anti-psychotic?”
Her tone came across as annoyed yet casual as if she had seen all this before.
I decided to be up front with her. “You’re most likely experiencing post traumatic stress, Bella. I’m sure he can prescribe you something, but your mind will begin to clear when it’s ready to. We won’t force it.”
She took in my words and smiled contently. “Thank you for saying that.”
Unable to come up with an adequate response, I merely lifted my hand and brushed her cheek with the tips of my fingers in an attempt to reassure her of my honesty.
A miniscule amount of tension left my body when I finally allowed myself to touch her face. It was something I had been tempted to do since the moment I sat next to her, and her skin was just as soft and delicate as I had imagined it would be.
The moment I made contact with her cheek, the blush that had begun to fade rapidly returned under my touch, and I smirked at her.
After bidding her goodnight, I reluctantly left the room. I walked to my bathroom and grabbed my holster and gun from the toilet to place it in its usual spot in my nightstand.
I spent the hours tossing and turning that night, wracked with thoughts of Bella as well as inescapable paranoia.
There was someone out there who had killed a girl, and that person may or may not know that I was housing the only witness against them.
My gun lay in the same place it laid every night. The only difference? This time was the that the safety was not on.
BPOV
Waking up in Edward’s apartment felt surreal, like I wasn’t supposed to be there. I stretched my limbs as I awoke and looked around the room in amazement.
Did last night really happen?
I smiled a loose, clumsy smile and buried my head back in the pillow as memories of the night prior flooded my mind.
Edward had been too perfect. The interest and concern the man had shown for me and my life filled me with a quiet happiness that he could most likely see written all over my face. But the unfamiliarity of it caused me to be unsure, and I struggled to find words half the time.
My thoughts kept reverting back to the images of him I had seen while I showered. And although I attempted to keep my eyes focused solely on his face, the way his white T-shirt seemed to hug his body made it difficult to do.
I had to keep telling myself that this was really happening, that Edward was there, and we were indeed in the same room alone in the dead of night.
He moved closer then. He was so close that I felt his breath stir my hair.
While he continued to exhale steadily, my breathing had practically stopped all together.
My body unconsciously inched toward his, moving on its own accord as if it longed for him.
Then he spoke words that melted my heart.
“You do have somewhere to go. Bella. You can stay here as long as you need to.”
I could feel the vein in my neck pulsating, and I blew out a heavy breath. He seemed hesitant when I asked him why he was so easily allowing me to stay, why he cared so much, like he was choosing his words carefully.
“…and I enjoy your company.”
Elation surged through me at his simple confession, and then I suddenly sensed his knees against mine. My body froze.
Without looking down, he brought out his hand to mine, and I slowly responded to his touch, all the while uselessly containing the grin that threatened to consume my expression. But I could not hide the excitement that made my eyes twinkle.
At only one point did he divert his gaze elsewhere, and it appeared to land on my neck or slightly below it. Rather than feel uneasy at this, I took the opportunity to let my own eyes wander.
I glimpsed the tight muscles of chest that were outlined by his shirt, his strong forearms, his crossed legs.
I felt my face radiating heat, and I fought a grin as I took in his gorgeousness in one fell swoop.
But just as earlier in the evening, it was over too quickly, and he pulled his hand away before I was ready to let go.
He stood to leave but then lingered longer when I couldn’t resist asking the question of whether or not he thought I was crazy. I had to be sure.
Although I trusted that he was being truthful with me back at the station, I had to hear it again, just to be reassured one more time that he indeed thought I was sane.
He spoke of post traumatic stress, and how they wouldn’t force the memories through that were hidden in my mind.
His compassion for me was astounding, and I was baffled beyond words but managed to express an inadequate “Thank you” in response.
Then as if to prove the validity of his promise, he reached his hand up to tenderly graze my cheek with his fingertips.
The warm streak his hand made as it glided along my skin rapidly enveloped me, my whole body responding to the touch of those five fingers.
He walked out after that, leaving me unsatisfied as he usually did and wanting more.
Even though I was in an unfamiliar bedroom in an unfamiliar apartment with a virtual stranger (that I was inexplicably taken with), I had fallen asleep rather quickly and was granted the first dreamless night I had had in years.
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“So Bella, tell me how you met Lauren Mallory.”
The name automatically made me lose my breath, as if my chest had been pounded by a close fist.
Dr. Honaker, who was a short pudgy man with salt and pepper hair, had begun the session with simple introductions, asked where I was from, and to my relief had strayed from any discussion pertaining to exactly how my father had died.
He merely nodded his head nonchalantly and offered a barely audible apology when I mentioned the vague details of my family’s calamity.
But then he quickly delved into the week prior that led up to the murder.
With a hard swallow, I clasped my clammy hands together and attempted to ease the constriction on my lungs by taking a deep breath.
“I met her at the drugstore where she worked the day I got into town. I was just looking to buy a drink, but she was the only one there, and we started talking.” I stopped.
From behind his intimidating wooden desk, Dr. Honaker stared at me expectantly, peering at me from above his wire rimmed glasses.
“She offered for me to stay with her as long as I didn’t tell anyone. She didn’t want to get in trouble for housing another tenant even though it was only going to be temporary.”
Understanding crossed his expression.
“That’s why everyone was surprised to see you in the armoire, then. No one knew you were staying there.”
I nodded. “It was our secret.”
He proceeded to write something in a leather bound notebook before speaking again.
“So where were you on the day of the murder, Bella? Do you remember anything from that day?”
I could feel the panic inching up my spine. Unstoppable and unexplainable panic.
The subject alone triggered the sweat that was moistening my brow and the acceleration of both my breathing and heart rate.
But most of all, it triggered my mind to go blank, and I once again only saw flashes, as though I were seated before a projection screen.
Milk.
Daisies.
Dandelions.
A monster that stood in the darkness.
The wet sickening thud that made my stomach clench.
I blinked, then my eyes aimlessly wandered the room, searching for the angel who was nowhere to be found.
I was lacking the calming effect of his presence, and I felt utterly alone.
“I was there,” was all I could choke out.
“But you remember nothing else?” He asked.
I brought a shaky hand to my temple. “I can’t…I can’t think.”
“Okay, calm down.” He said, gently. “Try to tell me what you see.”
I exhaled jaggedly and laid my hand in my lap. “I see a man, but I don’t know if he’s real.” Tears brimmed my eyes, and every cell quaked violently.
“What does he look like?”
I whimpered mutely. “I don’t know. He’s dark. I can’t see anything.”
He terrifies me. Please don’t make me go on.
“Is he in the apartment with you, Bella?”
“I don’t know.” The words were barely intelligible as I fought the tears.
“Do you see Lauren at all?” He pressed.
It was too much. I could feel all sanity slipping, and I was dangerously close to the edge.
Leaning forward, I buried my face in my palms and finally allowed the tears to flow.
“I see her standing…in the room…but I see nothing else.” I spoke between sobs.
It was useless. The more I tried to think, the more my mind retreated. It was waging war with me as I attempted to overcome the crippling terror infiltrating my body in order to bring forth whatever it was keeping locked away.
He sighed. “Okay, Bella, we’ll stop there.”
There was still a gentleness to his voice, but it was clear that reactions such as mine were very familiar to him. And with a knowing nod, he again scribbled in the notepad. He finished and closed it as I wiped tears from my eyes with my sleeve.
“Bella, you’re experiencing Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome. Basically, it means that you’ve gone through something that your brain can’t deal with. There’s not much you can do besides just be patient and wait for your thoughts to clear on their own.”
As upset as I was, the diagnosis was one that I expected, and I huffed. “So what now?”
“I’m going to prescribe you some Valium, and we’ll be talking again.”
Yeah, and what would be the point of that?
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As I stepped outside of the sullen looking building after the session with Dr. Honacker, my mood quickly turned light when my eyes fell on the man that was waiting for me.
I was only vaguely aware of the other people in the parking lot, and their faces registered dimly as I focused on Edward leaning against his Volvo.
With a smile on his face and his gun on his hip, his eyes seemed to beckon me, and I happily went to him.
I made no attempt to conceal my own widening smile as I approached him, the knowledge welling in me with each step that we would soon be alone in his apartment again.
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Comment!!
~African Proverb
EPOV
Just the idea of stepping inside the room after the bathroom fantasy I had just had about her caused a riot in my gut that I could not control.
The only thing that pushed me forward into the bedroom was Bella’s expression. It revealed a hint of excitement when she spotted me in the doorway.
I slowly approached her, and the closer I got, the more her eyes danced.
“Sorry if I’m disturbing you.” I said as I stopped at the foot of the bed and deeply inhaled the intoxicating aroma of lavender soap that swirled in the air.
I took slight notice of her eyes bashfully gliding over the length of my body, but for the sake of not feeling awkward, I chose to ignore it.
“You’re not disturbing me at all.” She responded shyly.
We both fell silent, unsure of what to say next, and I looked down, fidgeting my feet.
“Do you want to sit down?” She asked while patting a spot on the bed.
I grinned at her and nervously took a place on the edge of the bed, pleased at the fact that she was inviting me to stay.
She scooted, positioning herself in the center of the bed and crossed her legs to sit Indian style. Her timid smile and the crimson radiating from her cheeks did not waver as we both got comfortable, and I had to contain my smirk by biting on my lip and looking away from her.
“Thank you.” She abruptly said, and I snapped my head back in her direction.
“For what?”
She pushed a hand through her damp long hair, and her blush increased. “For letting me stay here, for buying me clothes. For everything.” She shrugged.
I smiled and waved her off politely. “It’s no big deal, Miss Swan. It’s my pleasure actually.”
My smile fell a bit when she suddenly glanced at me seriously through her eyelashes, as though something I said annoyed her.
“You can call me Bella.” There was tentativeness in her tone as she spoke.
“Of course. I mean, Bella.” I chuckled and felt like a complete dumbass.
She simply shook her head amusingly and giggled in response.
I knew that the conversation we were about to have needed to steer clear of the subject of Lauren Mallory. As good as my intentions would be, there was no way I would risk potentially subjecting her to another panic attack.
Plus, I couldn’t deny that I was more curious to learn about Bella herself.
First, I had to overcome the awkwardness of having just seen her half-naked in my imagination.
Don’t think about that shit right now!
“So, Bella, you’re from Phoenix?”
“Yeah, originally. But I consider this town my home now. There’s nothing for me in Phoenix.”
“Do you not have any family there?”
Tension crossed her face at my question, and I feared I had somehow fucked up.
“No.” She mumbled, picked at her hair.
Change the subject…
“Why’d you choose to move here?” I asked, hoping this was not another touchy subject.
The tension was still there as she gazed at the cheap black comforter.
But she offered, “My dad is dead, and my mom took off with her boyfriend, Phil, a couple years later. I guess you could say she abandoned me. I was trying to get to Seattle but didn’t make it that far.”
My mouth dropped. I did not expect her to be so forthcoming with me about her life. I figured it would take some incessant coaxing to get even one detail from her.
“Sorry about your parents. That’s shitty.” I said lamely.
She just shrugged her shoulders. “There wasn’t a whole lot of love between me and Mom, especially after my dad died.”
“How did he die?”
“An accident.”
Questions were plaguing me. Questions I didn’t dare ask but was desperate to ask echoed in my mind.
She seemed to speak of the sad events in her life in such a casual manner, but I had to wonder if inside she was secretly weeping.
My hand twitched as if it were pleading with me to be joined with hers.
“What was in Seattle?” I inquired, aching to know more and reverting back to her earlier comment.
She looked at me dead in the eyes finally and a grin played on her full lips. “Nothing.”
I sighed. “Which means you have nowhere to go.” It came out more as a statement rather than a question.
“I never did.”
I took the opportunity to get closer to her as the electricity I had felt previously returned in full force between us. My chest constricted in response, and my movements became uncoordinated as a result of it.
I positioned myself directly in front of her and crossed my legs in a way that mirrored hers.
Her cheeks still held the lovely burning color of crimson as she eyed me questionably. But instead of leaning away from my close proximity, her body seemed to every so slightly advance towards mine. And she almost appeared to be holding her breath.
“You do have somewhere to go. You can stay here as long as you need to, Bella.” I told her.
With a smile, she exhaled heavily and slumped her shoulders. “Why?”
I knew what she was asking. Why was I being so nice to her? Why was I inviting her to stay?
Why did she so quickly matter to me this much?
Considering I knew the answers but hardly understood them myself, I merely replied with, “I have my reasons, but I’ll only tell you two of them: I need to make sure you’re safe, and I enjoy your company.”
I couldn’t tell her that I was strangely protective of her, that I saw her gentle fragileness as endearing. And I surely couldn’t tell her that I was insanely attracted to her petite figure and her pale creamy skin.
I suddenly noticed that in the short amount of time we had been sitting face to face, we had managed to inch close enough that our kneecaps were now flush against each others’.
And my hand was now screaming to touch hers.
I swallowed loudly and with shaky breaths, I reached out and ghosted my hand over one of hers that was resting on her lap.
This shouldn’t be happening…
I ignored the thought and kept my eyes fixed on hers while increasing the pressure on her hand.
Staring back at me, she moved her fingers up and applied equal pressure.
We kept responding to each other’s touch until I was fully grasping her hand, and I let out an audible sigh.
The movement of our hands brought us gradually closer, and for a fleeting moment, the loose fitted shirt she wore pulled away from her neck, exposing a flash of the alabaster skin of her collar bone.
I felt the pound of my heart behind my ears as my eyes took in the sliver of beautiful flesh.
Bella was fast becoming the most naked girl with clothes on I had ever seen.
At this point, her expression seemed to radiate restrained excitement laced with uncertainty, like she was experiencing something entirely indecent for the first time.
In spite of my growing desire to graze those flaming red cheeks with my fingertips and cup the soft skin of her neck, I gave her hand a gentle squeeze and unwillingly let go, smiling brightly at her. “Just make yourself at home, okay?”
Her face fell a bit, and the gleam in her eyes faded as she nodded politely, “Thanks.”
I made a move to stand but stopped when she spoke again. “Edward.”
The sound of my name rolling off her lips for the first time nearly made me lose my breath. It felt thrilling to hear her delicate vocal cords pronounce each syllable, and I gladly sat back down, allowing her to continue.
“You really don’t think I’m crazy?”
I creased my brow out of both confusion and shock that she would be willing to discuss any aspect of the murder.
“I really don’t think you’re crazy. Shit, you’ve just been through something pretty horrible. It’s no wonder your mind is blocking it out.”
She sighed. “Then what is this doctor gonna do to me? Hypnotize me? Make me look at pictures of ink blots? Prescribe me an anti-psychotic?”
Her tone came across as annoyed yet casual as if she had seen all this before.
I decided to be up front with her. “You’re most likely experiencing post traumatic stress, Bella. I’m sure he can prescribe you something, but your mind will begin to clear when it’s ready to. We won’t force it.”
She took in my words and smiled contently. “Thank you for saying that.”
Unable to come up with an adequate response, I merely lifted my hand and brushed her cheek with the tips of my fingers in an attempt to reassure her of my honesty.
A miniscule amount of tension left my body when I finally allowed myself to touch her face. It was something I had been tempted to do since the moment I sat next to her, and her skin was just as soft and delicate as I had imagined it would be.
The moment I made contact with her cheek, the blush that had begun to fade rapidly returned under my touch, and I smirked at her.
After bidding her goodnight, I reluctantly left the room. I walked to my bathroom and grabbed my holster and gun from the toilet to place it in its usual spot in my nightstand.
I spent the hours tossing and turning that night, wracked with thoughts of Bella as well as inescapable paranoia.
There was someone out there who had killed a girl, and that person may or may not know that I was housing the only witness against them.
My gun lay in the same place it laid every night. The only difference? This time was the that the safety was not on.
BPOV
Waking up in Edward’s apartment felt surreal, like I wasn’t supposed to be there. I stretched my limbs as I awoke and looked around the room in amazement.
Did last night really happen?
I smiled a loose, clumsy smile and buried my head back in the pillow as memories of the night prior flooded my mind.
Edward had been too perfect. The interest and concern the man had shown for me and my life filled me with a quiet happiness that he could most likely see written all over my face. But the unfamiliarity of it caused me to be unsure, and I struggled to find words half the time.
My thoughts kept reverting back to the images of him I had seen while I showered. And although I attempted to keep my eyes focused solely on his face, the way his white T-shirt seemed to hug his body made it difficult to do.
I had to keep telling myself that this was really happening, that Edward was there, and we were indeed in the same room alone in the dead of night.
He moved closer then. He was so close that I felt his breath stir my hair.
While he continued to exhale steadily, my breathing had practically stopped all together.
My body unconsciously inched toward his, moving on its own accord as if it longed for him.
Then he spoke words that melted my heart.
“You do have somewhere to go. Bella. You can stay here as long as you need to.”
I could feel the vein in my neck pulsating, and I blew out a heavy breath. He seemed hesitant when I asked him why he was so easily allowing me to stay, why he cared so much, like he was choosing his words carefully.
“…and I enjoy your company.”
Elation surged through me at his simple confession, and then I suddenly sensed his knees against mine. My body froze.
Without looking down, he brought out his hand to mine, and I slowly responded to his touch, all the while uselessly containing the grin that threatened to consume my expression. But I could not hide the excitement that made my eyes twinkle.
At only one point did he divert his gaze elsewhere, and it appeared to land on my neck or slightly below it. Rather than feel uneasy at this, I took the opportunity to let my own eyes wander.
I glimpsed the tight muscles of chest that were outlined by his shirt, his strong forearms, his crossed legs.
I felt my face radiating heat, and I fought a grin as I took in his gorgeousness in one fell swoop.
But just as earlier in the evening, it was over too quickly, and he pulled his hand away before I was ready to let go.
He stood to leave but then lingered longer when I couldn’t resist asking the question of whether or not he thought I was crazy. I had to be sure.
Although I trusted that he was being truthful with me back at the station, I had to hear it again, just to be reassured one more time that he indeed thought I was sane.
He spoke of post traumatic stress, and how they wouldn’t force the memories through that were hidden in my mind.
His compassion for me was astounding, and I was baffled beyond words but managed to express an inadequate “Thank you” in response.
Then as if to prove the validity of his promise, he reached his hand up to tenderly graze my cheek with his fingertips.
The warm streak his hand made as it glided along my skin rapidly enveloped me, my whole body responding to the touch of those five fingers.
He walked out after that, leaving me unsatisfied as he usually did and wanting more.
Even though I was in an unfamiliar bedroom in an unfamiliar apartment with a virtual stranger (that I was inexplicably taken with), I had fallen asleep rather quickly and was granted the first dreamless night I had had in years.
-------------
“So Bella, tell me how you met Lauren Mallory.”
The name automatically made me lose my breath, as if my chest had been pounded by a close fist.
Dr. Honaker, who was a short pudgy man with salt and pepper hair, had begun the session with simple introductions, asked where I was from, and to my relief had strayed from any discussion pertaining to exactly how my father had died.
He merely nodded his head nonchalantly and offered a barely audible apology when I mentioned the vague details of my family’s calamity.
But then he quickly delved into the week prior that led up to the murder.
With a hard swallow, I clasped my clammy hands together and attempted to ease the constriction on my lungs by taking a deep breath.
“I met her at the drugstore where she worked the day I got into town. I was just looking to buy a drink, but she was the only one there, and we started talking.” I stopped.
From behind his intimidating wooden desk, Dr. Honaker stared at me expectantly, peering at me from above his wire rimmed glasses.
“She offered for me to stay with her as long as I didn’t tell anyone. She didn’t want to get in trouble for housing another tenant even though it was only going to be temporary.”
Understanding crossed his expression.
“That’s why everyone was surprised to see you in the armoire, then. No one knew you were staying there.”
I nodded. “It was our secret.”
He proceeded to write something in a leather bound notebook before speaking again.
“So where were you on the day of the murder, Bella? Do you remember anything from that day?”
I could feel the panic inching up my spine. Unstoppable and unexplainable panic.
The subject alone triggered the sweat that was moistening my brow and the acceleration of both my breathing and heart rate.
But most of all, it triggered my mind to go blank, and I once again only saw flashes, as though I were seated before a projection screen.
Milk.
Daisies.
Dandelions.
A monster that stood in the darkness.
The wet sickening thud that made my stomach clench.
I blinked, then my eyes aimlessly wandered the room, searching for the angel who was nowhere to be found.
I was lacking the calming effect of his presence, and I felt utterly alone.
“I was there,” was all I could choke out.
“But you remember nothing else?” He asked.
I brought a shaky hand to my temple. “I can’t…I can’t think.”
“Okay, calm down.” He said, gently. “Try to tell me what you see.”
I exhaled jaggedly and laid my hand in my lap. “I see a man, but I don’t know if he’s real.” Tears brimmed my eyes, and every cell quaked violently.
“What does he look like?”
I whimpered mutely. “I don’t know. He’s dark. I can’t see anything.”
He terrifies me. Please don’t make me go on.
“Is he in the apartment with you, Bella?”
“I don’t know.” The words were barely intelligible as I fought the tears.
“Do you see Lauren at all?” He pressed.
It was too much. I could feel all sanity slipping, and I was dangerously close to the edge.
Leaning forward, I buried my face in my palms and finally allowed the tears to flow.
“I see her standing…in the room…but I see nothing else.” I spoke between sobs.
It was useless. The more I tried to think, the more my mind retreated. It was waging war with me as I attempted to overcome the crippling terror infiltrating my body in order to bring forth whatever it was keeping locked away.
He sighed. “Okay, Bella, we’ll stop there.”
There was still a gentleness to his voice, but it was clear that reactions such as mine were very familiar to him. And with a knowing nod, he again scribbled in the notepad. He finished and closed it as I wiped tears from my eyes with my sleeve.
“Bella, you’re experiencing Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome. Basically, it means that you’ve gone through something that your brain can’t deal with. There’s not much you can do besides just be patient and wait for your thoughts to clear on their own.”
As upset as I was, the diagnosis was one that I expected, and I huffed. “So what now?”
“I’m going to prescribe you some Valium, and we’ll be talking again.”
Yeah, and what would be the point of that?
------------
As I stepped outside of the sullen looking building after the session with Dr. Honacker, my mood quickly turned light when my eyes fell on the man that was waiting for me.
I was only vaguely aware of the other people in the parking lot, and their faces registered dimly as I focused on Edward leaning against his Volvo.
With a smile on his face and his gun on his hip, his eyes seemed to beckon me, and I happily went to him.
I made no attempt to conceal my own widening smile as I approached him, the knowledge welling in me with each step that we would soon be alone in his apartment again.
_________________________________________
Comment!!
Chapter 3: The Angel
And there’s always a moment of clarity
In the midst of chaos
I’ve found mine,
Have you found yours?
~Author Unknown
BPOV
Detective Edward Cullen was indeed an angel. His celestial attributes included the lips which fell into a perfect pout, the thick eyebrows that appeared almost animated, and the emerald eyes that held an expression of hope laced with mysterious melancholy.
Even a blind person would take a second look at this man.
The tranquility exuding from him reminded me of lying in a meadow, amongst flowers rustling in the breeze, and only he could bring me to the place where I did not have to be afraid.
I could feel the eyes of both men on me as we sat in that prison-like room. But the Sergeant’s gaze held a different meaning than that of my angel’s.
Sergeant Banner looked upon me as though he were studying a textbook that was only mildly interesting. The answers to the questions of my personal life merely fluttered in the air, never reaching his ears at all.
Detective Cullen’s stare felt watchful, protective, and I was relishing in it.
He seemed to hang on my every word, and I couldn’t fathom why. The way his body leaned forward in the metal chair and reacted in various ways to my different answers made me feel strangely significant to him. Almost like he cherished me without knowing me.
This questionable concern he had for me reached its peak when inquiries of Lauren were brought up, and I lost control of my nerves again. My brain took over as my body went wild with tremors.
I went blank upon the mention of Lauren Mallory as though my mind was waging war with her very name entering my consciousness.
The interview was stopped at that point, the angel once again coming to my rescue when he looked to the fat man next to him and requested they speak alone for a moment.
We exchanged a glance (after the Sergeant spoke a request to me that I barely heard) that practically had me melting in my seat.
In the midst of inner pandemonium, his enticing green eyes managed to silence my world, and with a nod of his head, I was at ease.
He came back in the room alone shortly thereafter, the line of his eyebrows knitted together like he was in deep thought. His focus remained fixed on the floor until he sat down, at which point, he drew in a deep breath and brought his eyes up to meet mine.
“Uh, Bella. I mean, Miss Swan,” he fumbled, “we think a medical evaluation may be a good idea for you after what you’ve been through.”
Did he think I was crazy?
“We just know that you’re upset and may not be ready to talk just yet.”
Confused, I licked my lips and shook my head. “I’m not crazy. I wish I could remember what happened, but I can‘t.”
He leaned forward in the chair, placing his hands on the table in a gentle fashion. “I know you can‘t remember, and you‘re not crazy. We just want to get you checked out anyway, you know, to make sure you’re okay…physically.” He timidly diverted his eyes from mine.
“So I’m going to have to see a doctor?” My tone probably made it no secret to him that I detest doctors. I had had my share of shrinks dissecting my every thought, doctors prodding around my nether regions, and prescriptions for medications I couldn’t even pronounce being filled for me.
My mind reeled with clips of these unfortunate incidents, and I blinked a few times, bringing myself back to the present and the comfort of the man in front of me.
He shrugged, apparently not noticing my chaste anxiety and said, “It would only be a general check-up. And I’ll be the one to take you.”
My eyebrows perked, and with restrained yet still embarrassing enthusiasm, I asked, “You’ll take me?”
Either out of bewilderment or politeness, he chose to ignore the giddiness in my response. Instead, he creased his brow and answered. “There’s something else too.”
He stopped, and I waited for him to continue.
“Do you have a place to stay tonight?” He blurted after a second of apprehension.
The hesitation with which he asked the question did not go unnoticed by me, and I wondered where this discussion was leading to.
“No, I don’t anymore. I’ve only been here a week.” I froze and fought the bile slipping up to my throat. “…She was the only person I knew.”
His eyes nervously scanned the room, while mine stayed locked on him.
What is he thinking about?
Once he stilled his movements, he brought his attention back to me.
“Would you be opposed to staying with me tonight?”
Breathe, Bella.
“Staying with you?” I failed at my attempt to keep my composure, and the words came out sounding strangled.
“Well, sleep at my apartment, I mean.” He clarified.
Keep breathing.
“Um, yeah. I can stay at your apartment.” I bit my lip to hold back my grin.
His mouth turned up in a smile, revealing another heavenly characteristic.
EPOV
Newton managed to set up a nine a.m. appointment for Bella with Dr. Honaker, the psychiatrist that had an office in the next building over from ours. I was undoubtedly nervous at this turn of events as I hadn’t anticipated entertaining Bella for the entire evening.
Ideas of how we’d pass the time and rehearsals of possible conversations we’d have infiltrated my thoughts as we walked out to the parking lot.
I made my way to the driver side of my silver Volvo after having opened the passenger door, allowing Bella to climb in.
I slid into my seat and shoved the keys in the ignition to start the car but was momentarily distracted when I looked down and to my right.
Bella’s dress had hiked up when she sat down, exposing her chafed yet attractive knees underneath. I opened my mouth to ease the tension in my chest and tore my eyes away, turning on the engine and pulling away from the parking lot.
The drive started out silently as Bella kept her head facing the window. She was lost in her own oblivion, fixated on a certain turmoil in her life that I feared I could never understand.
“Do you have any clothes?” I asked to break the ice, knowing the obvious answer was that she did not.
“No.” She responded, peeking at me through her hair. “They’re back at the apartment, and I doubt we can go back there, huh?”
“No, we can’t. But you’re gonna need some clothes.”
Luckily, she didn’t refuse my offer to buy her a few things at the local Forks Outfitters, either because she was too exhausted or too frightened to say no.
She scanned the racks lazily as I looked on, amused at the way her face scrunched up when she studied a certain garment. Finally, she settled on a pair of simple black yoga pants and a long-sleeved t-shirt. I followed her and watched as she grabbed all the necessary toiletries, then began to wonder what she was doing when we started back towards the clothing section.
We passed the tops and jeans and pajamas and kept walking until she stopped at the underwear.
White cotton panties hung next to satin panties in the colors of red, pink, and black.
My face began to flush.
I frowned at myself as inappropriate images of Bella danced around in my head. Even the thought of her wearing the unflattering white underwear seemed to excite me more than the full fledged lingerie I had seen girls wear in my presence.
I looked away but out of my peripheral vision, I saw Bella grab two pairs of the white panties then tuck them in between the pants and shirt she held.
She smiled at me sheepishly, her cheeks just as crimson as mine most likely were, and we headed toward the checkout to pay for the items.
We arrived at my fairly large two bedroom, two bathroom apartment, and I let her in while uttering apologies for the messy state it was left in. She remained quiet during my ramblings, smiling and scanning the living room as I grabbed the empty beer bottles that I had left on the end table the night before and took them to the kitchen.
“I’m sorry. I’m usually not this fucking messy.” I lied.
“It’s not messy. It’s…homey.” She said, smiling.
I chuckled. “Well, I’m glad you don’t think I’m disgusting.”
We stood in the middle of the living room, lost in each other’s eyes for a moment before I snapped out of it and decided to give her a tour.
I grinned at her. “Come on. I’ll show you around.”
I took a chance and brought my hand out toward hers. I gave her an opportunity to refuse, but to my pleasant surprise, she took it and even lightly squeezed when her hand was fully in mine.
I motioned to the kitchen, which was obvious as it was directly off the living room, but she still nodded in acknowledgement. I then led her to the hallway, and the feel of the tender bulb of her thumb running over mine as we walked did not escape my notice.
“My room.” I motioned to the bedroom on the right side without entering or turning on the light.
“Bathroom.” I pointed out, turning my attention to the opposite side of the hall.
We came to the guest room that I fortunately always kept prepared for company, and I flicked on the light.
“This is your room.”
I led her inside while still keeping hold of her hand. I took the bag from her other hand that contained her clothes and other necessities and dropped it on the bed.
“The bed is pretty comfy, if I do say so myself…” My voice fell quiet as I trailed off, sensing the electricity suspended in the air as we stood alone in the silent room where she’d be sleeping. I swallowed hard, and my pulse accelerated in response to the sudden intensity between us.
Before I could stop myself, I allowed my fingers to trace along her soft knuckles as my eyes stayed glued to hers and I exhaled shallow breaths.
She stared back at me, and the warmth and gentleness in her brown eyes captivated me and almost put me in a trance.
You can’t fucking feel this way about her, Cullen.
“Um…,” I glanced at our clasped hands, breaking the trance and said, “I’m gonna go take a shower.”
I smirked when I saw a glimmer of disappointment cross her expression.
With one final squeeze, she dropped my hand and gave me an unconvincing smile. “Okay. If it’s alright with you, I think I’ll do the same.”
An eyebrow cocked involuntarily at her words, but I quickly gathered myself and nodded.
“Yeah, there should be towels and soap and all that shit in there. Help yourself to anything. I’ll be in my bathroom.” I needlessly said.
I left her in the room and scurried to my bedroom, sighing in relief once I escaped the electrically charged atmosphere I had been sharing with Bella.
The connection was intense, too intense for me to be able to handle much longer. I made it to my bathroom and pulled the holster that held my SIG-Sauer P245 pistol from my belt, placing it on top of the toilet.
I stripped off my clothes quickly, desperate for the hot water to calm my nerves and my growing desire.
And I imagined Bella doing the same.
BPOV
Edward held my hand. What excited me most about this was the fact that he didn’t have to. It was absolutely unnecessary for him to lead me through the apartment by the hand, so my heart leapt in elation when the only logical conclusion was that he did it because he wanted to. As he gave me the tour of his home, my smile never faded as I repeatedly glimpsed at our clasped hands, absorbing the sweet comfort it gave me.
Though I tried to avoid caressing his fingers with mine, it was no use, and I couldn’t fight the urge to gently squeeze and trace the lines of his hand with my fingertips as he introduced each room.
Being in Edward’s residence was abnormally comfortable, and I experienced a strange sense of normalcy standing in his full-on bachelor pad. The living room was expectantly unorganized and decorated with the boyish colors of deep blues, dark greens, and black. A large pricey looking flat screen TV sat on a black entertainment center. The kitchen was dull with only the basic appliances on the counter tops as though he rarely went in there.
The guest room was simple, containing a queen sized bed with black bedding and a small dark wood dresser on the other side of the room.
He ushered me in, tossed aside the bag I was holding, then made a comment about the bed that made my heart palpitate.
Why do the words “bed” and “comfy” sound so sexy coming from this man?
The answer was indisputable: This man could make any word sound sexy.
Right then, it happened. He stopped speaking, and the air inside the bedroom began to change.
I knew the room was silent, but the distinct hum of electricity flowing between us seemed to attack my ears, and we just looked at each other.
The hold his eyes had on me made me dizzy, almost triggering vertigo, and the next thing I felt was the rubbing of his fingers over mine.
My euphoria was short-lived, though, as he pulled his eyes away and announced that he was going to take a shower.
I informed him that I wanted to do the same, which seemed to throw him for a moment, and then he walked out, leaving me dazzled.
I timidly made my way to the bathroom after picking up the bag of necessities from the bed and removed my clothes. The moment I shed the last article of clothing, I heard the water turn on in Edward’s bathroom, and my breathing hitched.
Even though there was fifty feet or so separating us, we were now both naked and alone in his apartment, and my cheeks flushed at the thought.
I ran the water in my shower until it was hot, then stepped in.
And I imagined Edward doing the same.
EPOV
I stepped under the hot steam, allowing the heat to wash over my face as I closed my eyes. I tried to concentrate on the task of washing myself, but the water droplets cascading down my back felt like fingertips, and I couldn’t help but imagine that they were Bella’s.
Fuck…
I threw my head back, releasing a heavy breath as images of her delicate hands in her wet hair incessantly started playing on my inner eyelids. I was becoming almost painfully hard as the scene traveled down to her soft neck, her bare shoulders, over the mounds of her pale breasts, then on to her petite waist.
Excitement and tension began to build in every muscle with each passing second, and I could feel that I was gradually losing control as I eagerly anticipated the part of her body I would see next.
Before my lust filled eyes could venture further south, the water turned cold as all the heat had been used, and I reached down to turn it off. I dried off quickly, forcing my body to calm down and stepped into my bedroom to search for my pajamas.
Once I was dressed, I stopped to listen for any movement coming from Bella’s room. Hearing nothing, I decided to walk out of my bedroom towards hers, uselessly convincing myself the whole way that I was only checking on her. When I reached the doorway, I grew brave enough to look in.
The room was dimly lit as Bella had only flicked on the little lamp on the nightstand.
Her back was to me, and she was pulling and tugging at her hair with a brush in a way that made me wonder if she was angry.
Maybe I should knock.
But I didn’t.
Instead, I shakily said her name, and she turned in the direction of my voice.
BPOV
The bathroom began to cloud with steam as I mindlessly washed my body with a soapy blue loofah. My thoughts refused to stray from the exquisite man just down the hall that was currently naked and dripping wet.
As I dragged the sponge over myself, I closed my eyes, and suddenly he was there, and the loofah became his hand.
The feeling of his phantom hand tenderly running over the most intimate parts of my body brought goosebumps to the surface of my skin in spite of the extremely warm water.
My breathing became jagged, and I giggled mutely as I saw his glistening bronze hair, matted with water, and the playful smirk on his pink lips that teased me. My imagination then feasted on the sculpted planes of his chest that my hands ached to explore.
Although I was merely fantasizing, the lusciousness of his body was almost too overwhelming.
Could I handle it, if he were ever actually standing right in front of me?
My gaze proceeded to travel further down his body but was interrupted when the chilliness of the water startled me out of my daydream.
I turned to quickly shut it off and got out, grabbing the dark green towel off the rack to dry myself. I threw on the black pants and long-sleeved t-shirt and brushed my teeth, then turned off the light and shuffled to the guest room.
As I sat on the bed with my back facing the door, I brushed my damp hair and listened for any sign of Edward. I heard nothing at first, concluding with dismay that he must have gone to bed, and continued yanking at the knots in my hair.
But a moment later, I heard my name being faintly called from the doorway, and I turned in his direction.
________________________________________________________
Comment on this one!
In the midst of chaos
I’ve found mine,
Have you found yours?
~Author Unknown
BPOV
Detective Edward Cullen was indeed an angel. His celestial attributes included the lips which fell into a perfect pout, the thick eyebrows that appeared almost animated, and the emerald eyes that held an expression of hope laced with mysterious melancholy.
Even a blind person would take a second look at this man.
The tranquility exuding from him reminded me of lying in a meadow, amongst flowers rustling in the breeze, and only he could bring me to the place where I did not have to be afraid.
I could feel the eyes of both men on me as we sat in that prison-like room. But the Sergeant’s gaze held a different meaning than that of my angel’s.
Sergeant Banner looked upon me as though he were studying a textbook that was only mildly interesting. The answers to the questions of my personal life merely fluttered in the air, never reaching his ears at all.
Detective Cullen’s stare felt watchful, protective, and I was relishing in it.
He seemed to hang on my every word, and I couldn’t fathom why. The way his body leaned forward in the metal chair and reacted in various ways to my different answers made me feel strangely significant to him. Almost like he cherished me without knowing me.
This questionable concern he had for me reached its peak when inquiries of Lauren were brought up, and I lost control of my nerves again. My brain took over as my body went wild with tremors.
I went blank upon the mention of Lauren Mallory as though my mind was waging war with her very name entering my consciousness.
The interview was stopped at that point, the angel once again coming to my rescue when he looked to the fat man next to him and requested they speak alone for a moment.
We exchanged a glance (after the Sergeant spoke a request to me that I barely heard) that practically had me melting in my seat.
In the midst of inner pandemonium, his enticing green eyes managed to silence my world, and with a nod of his head, I was at ease.
He came back in the room alone shortly thereafter, the line of his eyebrows knitted together like he was in deep thought. His focus remained fixed on the floor until he sat down, at which point, he drew in a deep breath and brought his eyes up to meet mine.
“Uh, Bella. I mean, Miss Swan,” he fumbled, “we think a medical evaluation may be a good idea for you after what you’ve been through.”
Did he think I was crazy?
“We just know that you’re upset and may not be ready to talk just yet.”
Confused, I licked my lips and shook my head. “I’m not crazy. I wish I could remember what happened, but I can‘t.”
He leaned forward in the chair, placing his hands on the table in a gentle fashion. “I know you can‘t remember, and you‘re not crazy. We just want to get you checked out anyway, you know, to make sure you’re okay…physically.” He timidly diverted his eyes from mine.
“So I’m going to have to see a doctor?” My tone probably made it no secret to him that I detest doctors. I had had my share of shrinks dissecting my every thought, doctors prodding around my nether regions, and prescriptions for medications I couldn’t even pronounce being filled for me.
My mind reeled with clips of these unfortunate incidents, and I blinked a few times, bringing myself back to the present and the comfort of the man in front of me.
He shrugged, apparently not noticing my chaste anxiety and said, “It would only be a general check-up. And I’ll be the one to take you.”
My eyebrows perked, and with restrained yet still embarrassing enthusiasm, I asked, “You’ll take me?”
Either out of bewilderment or politeness, he chose to ignore the giddiness in my response. Instead, he creased his brow and answered. “There’s something else too.”
He stopped, and I waited for him to continue.
“Do you have a place to stay tonight?” He blurted after a second of apprehension.
The hesitation with which he asked the question did not go unnoticed by me, and I wondered where this discussion was leading to.
“No, I don’t anymore. I’ve only been here a week.” I froze and fought the bile slipping up to my throat. “…She was the only person I knew.”
His eyes nervously scanned the room, while mine stayed locked on him.
What is he thinking about?
Once he stilled his movements, he brought his attention back to me.
“Would you be opposed to staying with me tonight?”
Breathe, Bella.
“Staying with you?” I failed at my attempt to keep my composure, and the words came out sounding strangled.
“Well, sleep at my apartment, I mean.” He clarified.
Keep breathing.
“Um, yeah. I can stay at your apartment.” I bit my lip to hold back my grin.
His mouth turned up in a smile, revealing another heavenly characteristic.
EPOV
Newton managed to set up a nine a.m. appointment for Bella with Dr. Honaker, the psychiatrist that had an office in the next building over from ours. I was undoubtedly nervous at this turn of events as I hadn’t anticipated entertaining Bella for the entire evening.
Ideas of how we’d pass the time and rehearsals of possible conversations we’d have infiltrated my thoughts as we walked out to the parking lot.
I made my way to the driver side of my silver Volvo after having opened the passenger door, allowing Bella to climb in.
I slid into my seat and shoved the keys in the ignition to start the car but was momentarily distracted when I looked down and to my right.
Bella’s dress had hiked up when she sat down, exposing her chafed yet attractive knees underneath. I opened my mouth to ease the tension in my chest and tore my eyes away, turning on the engine and pulling away from the parking lot.
The drive started out silently as Bella kept her head facing the window. She was lost in her own oblivion, fixated on a certain turmoil in her life that I feared I could never understand.
“Do you have any clothes?” I asked to break the ice, knowing the obvious answer was that she did not.
“No.” She responded, peeking at me through her hair. “They’re back at the apartment, and I doubt we can go back there, huh?”
“No, we can’t. But you’re gonna need some clothes.”
Luckily, she didn’t refuse my offer to buy her a few things at the local Forks Outfitters, either because she was too exhausted or too frightened to say no.
She scanned the racks lazily as I looked on, amused at the way her face scrunched up when she studied a certain garment. Finally, she settled on a pair of simple black yoga pants and a long-sleeved t-shirt. I followed her and watched as she grabbed all the necessary toiletries, then began to wonder what she was doing when we started back towards the clothing section.
We passed the tops and jeans and pajamas and kept walking until she stopped at the underwear.
White cotton panties hung next to satin panties in the colors of red, pink, and black.
My face began to flush.
I frowned at myself as inappropriate images of Bella danced around in my head. Even the thought of her wearing the unflattering white underwear seemed to excite me more than the full fledged lingerie I had seen girls wear in my presence.
I looked away but out of my peripheral vision, I saw Bella grab two pairs of the white panties then tuck them in between the pants and shirt she held.
She smiled at me sheepishly, her cheeks just as crimson as mine most likely were, and we headed toward the checkout to pay for the items.
We arrived at my fairly large two bedroom, two bathroom apartment, and I let her in while uttering apologies for the messy state it was left in. She remained quiet during my ramblings, smiling and scanning the living room as I grabbed the empty beer bottles that I had left on the end table the night before and took them to the kitchen.
“I’m sorry. I’m usually not this fucking messy.” I lied.
“It’s not messy. It’s…homey.” She said, smiling.
I chuckled. “Well, I’m glad you don’t think I’m disgusting.”
We stood in the middle of the living room, lost in each other’s eyes for a moment before I snapped out of it and decided to give her a tour.
I grinned at her. “Come on. I’ll show you around.”
I took a chance and brought my hand out toward hers. I gave her an opportunity to refuse, but to my pleasant surprise, she took it and even lightly squeezed when her hand was fully in mine.
I motioned to the kitchen, which was obvious as it was directly off the living room, but she still nodded in acknowledgement. I then led her to the hallway, and the feel of the tender bulb of her thumb running over mine as we walked did not escape my notice.
“My room.” I motioned to the bedroom on the right side without entering or turning on the light.
“Bathroom.” I pointed out, turning my attention to the opposite side of the hall.
We came to the guest room that I fortunately always kept prepared for company, and I flicked on the light.
“This is your room.”
I led her inside while still keeping hold of her hand. I took the bag from her other hand that contained her clothes and other necessities and dropped it on the bed.
“The bed is pretty comfy, if I do say so myself…” My voice fell quiet as I trailed off, sensing the electricity suspended in the air as we stood alone in the silent room where she’d be sleeping. I swallowed hard, and my pulse accelerated in response to the sudden intensity between us.
Before I could stop myself, I allowed my fingers to trace along her soft knuckles as my eyes stayed glued to hers and I exhaled shallow breaths.
She stared back at me, and the warmth and gentleness in her brown eyes captivated me and almost put me in a trance.
You can’t fucking feel this way about her, Cullen.
“Um…,” I glanced at our clasped hands, breaking the trance and said, “I’m gonna go take a shower.”
I smirked when I saw a glimmer of disappointment cross her expression.
With one final squeeze, she dropped my hand and gave me an unconvincing smile. “Okay. If it’s alright with you, I think I’ll do the same.”
An eyebrow cocked involuntarily at her words, but I quickly gathered myself and nodded.
“Yeah, there should be towels and soap and all that shit in there. Help yourself to anything. I’ll be in my bathroom.” I needlessly said.
I left her in the room and scurried to my bedroom, sighing in relief once I escaped the electrically charged atmosphere I had been sharing with Bella.
The connection was intense, too intense for me to be able to handle much longer. I made it to my bathroom and pulled the holster that held my SIG-Sauer P245 pistol from my belt, placing it on top of the toilet.
I stripped off my clothes quickly, desperate for the hot water to calm my nerves and my growing desire.
And I imagined Bella doing the same.
BPOV
Edward held my hand. What excited me most about this was the fact that he didn’t have to. It was absolutely unnecessary for him to lead me through the apartment by the hand, so my heart leapt in elation when the only logical conclusion was that he did it because he wanted to. As he gave me the tour of his home, my smile never faded as I repeatedly glimpsed at our clasped hands, absorbing the sweet comfort it gave me.
Though I tried to avoid caressing his fingers with mine, it was no use, and I couldn’t fight the urge to gently squeeze and trace the lines of his hand with my fingertips as he introduced each room.
Being in Edward’s residence was abnormally comfortable, and I experienced a strange sense of normalcy standing in his full-on bachelor pad. The living room was expectantly unorganized and decorated with the boyish colors of deep blues, dark greens, and black. A large pricey looking flat screen TV sat on a black entertainment center. The kitchen was dull with only the basic appliances on the counter tops as though he rarely went in there.
The guest room was simple, containing a queen sized bed with black bedding and a small dark wood dresser on the other side of the room.
He ushered me in, tossed aside the bag I was holding, then made a comment about the bed that made my heart palpitate.
Why do the words “bed” and “comfy” sound so sexy coming from this man?
The answer was indisputable: This man could make any word sound sexy.
Right then, it happened. He stopped speaking, and the air inside the bedroom began to change.
I knew the room was silent, but the distinct hum of electricity flowing between us seemed to attack my ears, and we just looked at each other.
The hold his eyes had on me made me dizzy, almost triggering vertigo, and the next thing I felt was the rubbing of his fingers over mine.
My euphoria was short-lived, though, as he pulled his eyes away and announced that he was going to take a shower.
I informed him that I wanted to do the same, which seemed to throw him for a moment, and then he walked out, leaving me dazzled.
I timidly made my way to the bathroom after picking up the bag of necessities from the bed and removed my clothes. The moment I shed the last article of clothing, I heard the water turn on in Edward’s bathroom, and my breathing hitched.
Even though there was fifty feet or so separating us, we were now both naked and alone in his apartment, and my cheeks flushed at the thought.
I ran the water in my shower until it was hot, then stepped in.
And I imagined Edward doing the same.
EPOV
I stepped under the hot steam, allowing the heat to wash over my face as I closed my eyes. I tried to concentrate on the task of washing myself, but the water droplets cascading down my back felt like fingertips, and I couldn’t help but imagine that they were Bella’s.
Fuck…
I threw my head back, releasing a heavy breath as images of her delicate hands in her wet hair incessantly started playing on my inner eyelids. I was becoming almost painfully hard as the scene traveled down to her soft neck, her bare shoulders, over the mounds of her pale breasts, then on to her petite waist.
Excitement and tension began to build in every muscle with each passing second, and I could feel that I was gradually losing control as I eagerly anticipated the part of her body I would see next.
Before my lust filled eyes could venture further south, the water turned cold as all the heat had been used, and I reached down to turn it off. I dried off quickly, forcing my body to calm down and stepped into my bedroom to search for my pajamas.
Once I was dressed, I stopped to listen for any movement coming from Bella’s room. Hearing nothing, I decided to walk out of my bedroom towards hers, uselessly convincing myself the whole way that I was only checking on her. When I reached the doorway, I grew brave enough to look in.
The room was dimly lit as Bella had only flicked on the little lamp on the nightstand.
Her back was to me, and she was pulling and tugging at her hair with a brush in a way that made me wonder if she was angry.
Maybe I should knock.
But I didn’t.
Instead, I shakily said her name, and she turned in the direction of my voice.
BPOV
The bathroom began to cloud with steam as I mindlessly washed my body with a soapy blue loofah. My thoughts refused to stray from the exquisite man just down the hall that was currently naked and dripping wet.
As I dragged the sponge over myself, I closed my eyes, and suddenly he was there, and the loofah became his hand.
The feeling of his phantom hand tenderly running over the most intimate parts of my body brought goosebumps to the surface of my skin in spite of the extremely warm water.
My breathing became jagged, and I giggled mutely as I saw his glistening bronze hair, matted with water, and the playful smirk on his pink lips that teased me. My imagination then feasted on the sculpted planes of his chest that my hands ached to explore.
Although I was merely fantasizing, the lusciousness of his body was almost too overwhelming.
Could I handle it, if he were ever actually standing right in front of me?
My gaze proceeded to travel further down his body but was interrupted when the chilliness of the water startled me out of my daydream.
I turned to quickly shut it off and got out, grabbing the dark green towel off the rack to dry myself. I threw on the black pants and long-sleeved t-shirt and brushed my teeth, then turned off the light and shuffled to the guest room.
As I sat on the bed with my back facing the door, I brushed my damp hair and listened for any sign of Edward. I heard nothing at first, concluding with dismay that he must have gone to bed, and continued yanking at the knots in my hair.
But a moment later, I heard my name being faintly called from the doorway, and I turned in his direction.
________________________________________________________
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Chapter 2: The Monster
Yesterday upon the stair
I met a man who wasn’t there
He wasn’t there again today
Oh, how I wish he’d go away
~ Hughes Mearns
BPOV
As I awoke encased in darkness, a piercing ache radiated through the small of my back and into my tailbone. My body screamed in opposition as I tried to uselessly shift to a more comfortable position in the cramped space. I was leaning against something hard and sat upon something of equal hardness. I instinctively brought my fingertips up to trace along my surroundings, but they only fell on more hardness on either side of me. It felt cold and smooth, the way I would imagine a wooden coffin would feel.
My neck also burned as if pin needles were set ablaze then used to prick my skin without an ounce of care.
My butt was numb as were my feet, which had obviously been tucked under my body an unknown length of time. I pulled them from under me, the tingling sensation setting in immediately as I bent my knees up to be parallel with my chin.
Once I moved on from the pain in my numerous joints, the question of ‘where the hell am I’ emerged in my thoughts. It was as if my short-term memory was as blank as the space around me and I could only remember things in snatches.
Grainy images of milk being poured into a glass flashed in my head. I could see myself inhaling the fresh summery scent of the dandelions and daisies that were perched on the window sill in a clear vase. Then like a veil fell over my reverie, my vision turned red, and suddenly there was…
Fear.
Fear enveloped me, and my breath hitched. I closed my eyes as I sat, attempting to conjure up my distant memories.
The glimpse of a faceless form, a monster, appeared in my mind’s eye, watching. The image of him was nothing more than an shadowy silhouette, yet he released a menacing vibe that terrorized me to the core. The monster could have been as tall and threatening as Goliath, but I couldn’t be sure as I quickly became desperate to repel the image of him from my head. My eyes clenched tightly, and I flinched, wishing the sight away. And then I saw Lauren standing--
Oh, God, Lauren!
My memory then brought forth the sound of a moist thud, like an ice pick being rammed into a watermelon. Something happened, but I didn’t want to know what. I wanted to shrink away or be painted black so I could fade into the dark place in which I sat.
As if God heard my silent plea and was rejecting it, I heard scattered voices filtering into my ears.
The faceless monster must have returned. I cradled my knees to my chest and buried my head, hoping against hope that I would either be saved or killed quickly. I inevitably lost control of my nerves and couldn’t hold back the shakes that jolted my cells as I awaited my fate.
The moment before madness ensues is a moment as familiar to me as bullies to school children. The terror is so unbearable that you simply want to get it over with already, the way you feel seconds before vomiting.
A sudden beam of light penetrated the darkness, but I didn’t look up and kept waiting. Seconds seemed to become hours as I kept my head submerged in whatever clothing I was wearing. The soft pillow-like bundle of fabric covering my knees was the only defense against the attacker I knew was peering down at me.
“Hello?” A meek voice called, and I shrieked at the sound of it.
It was a male voice that struck me as soothing, but I couldn’t be fooled. I yearned with every fiber of my being to implore that soft voice to just kill me swiftly. I fought with myself, but my dangerous curiosity won out, and I lifted my head from my knees.
And my eyes fell on a man. The moisture that had accumulated in them blurred the full view of his appearance, but I could swear I was gazing upon an angel. Compassion was visible in his expression, and his seemingly flawless face looked upon me with sincere concern.
“I’m Detective Edward Cullen.” I remained tentative, still suspicious that he could be the monster in an angelic disguise. But he continued, “It’s ok. You’re safe.” The would-be angel turned his head to glance at a barely noticeable man standing behind him, then brought it back to me. “We’re cops.”
Cops.
The word brought with it understanding, and I released a heavy breath.
“Can you come out of there, please?” With caution, he extended his hand to me.
The hesitation of accepting it was short lived, and I brought my own hand up to grasp his lightly.
In an instant, and even before my hand was entirely in his, a sense of comfort washed over me. It wasn’t necessary to look at his features, although I knew even in my unsteady haze that they were beautiful. The sunlight pouring in from the window reflected off his deep copper hair, making it appear on the verge of flames.
I rose to full height, which was still significantly shorter than his tall stature, and the tremble in my body did not stop. I involuntarily began to whimper as the tremors affected even my vocal chords.
“That’s better.” The angel spoke again. As if unable to control myself, I leaned into him, and my head found a place against his chest. The beating of his heart pounded against my temple as fresh adrenaline still coursed through his body.
Strangely, my body pined for his hands on me. It seemed that at that moment, the world only contained the two of us, and he was the only remedy for the twistedness I was experiencing.
And then his hands were on my back, and my senses went wild in spite of myself.
“What’s your name, Miss?” He asked.
I uselessly opened my mouth, not for one second expecting any sound to come out. But as I trembled and quaked, I rasped out, “Bella.”
Now get me the hell out of here.
*~*~* 7:00 PM*~*~*
EPOV
The questioning was not going well. We sat in that small white bricked room at the station with Sergeant Banner, the big burly man who had been my superior for nearly the past year, as Bella was taken through all the standard questions.
“Full name?”
“Isabella Marie Swan.”
“Age?”
“Nineteen.”
The answer of her age surprised me. This girl that sat across from me, wearing the white bag posing as a dress was nineteen? The frail, broken person who was so thin that the tiny straps of the dress seemed to cling to her shoulders for dear life was actually a young adult?
Her pony tailed hair was still falling in her face, but she made no attempt to swat it away. Instead, she stared at an invisible spot on the table and methodically answered our questions one by one.
“Date of birth?”
“September 13, 1987.”
“Where are you from?”
“Phoenix, Arizona.”
I caught myself from time to time subconsciously studying her face as though by looking hard enough I would maybe begin to understand her.
There had been some kind of strange connection between us when we embraced while standing next to that armoire. My pulse had been calm and steady even as I pulled her out of it. But the moment she found comfort against my chest, my heart responded, and its beating quickened pace.
“Did you know the victim well?”
“Not really.”
“How long had you known her?”
“One week.”
We were getting to the hard part. There was no doubt in my mind that Bella had experienced something traumatizing, and I was fully prepared to stop this interview in the event that she have a breakdown at any of the questions asked.
The very mention of Lauren Mallory seemed to be enough to bring on the panicking process. It was evident in her sudden intake of breath, her face becoming devoid of any color, and the way her body began to break out in those familiar shakes.
“When was the last time you saw Lauren alive, Bella?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did you see anything of what happened to her?”
“I…I don’t know. I d-don’t remember.”
She was stumbling. My next indication that it was getting to be too much for her. Her breathing had accelerated to a worrisome speed, and beads of sweat were now visible along her brow.
I looked at my superior as he leisurely sipped from his still full cup of coffee like he was completely failing to notice the terror stricken young woman seated before him.
“Sergeant Banner, can I talk to you for a minute?” This shit needed to stop.
“Sure, Cullen.” Taking one last meager sip, he stood and addressed Bella. “We’ll be back shortly, Miss Swan. You take a break and relax.”
I looked to her, and our eyes found each other’s as I rose to my feet. I could almost feel those deep brown orbs penetrating my very soul, and I threw her a nod, a faulty attempt at trying to be reassuring.
I turned and followed Sergeant Banner out of the room. We were met by the overly anxious Mike Newton as he expectantly waited outside the door for his opportunity to get in on the questioning.
“Newton, get Miss Swan a cup of water.” The Sergeant ordered without so much as a glance at him.
I smirked in amusement as Newton narrowed his eyes at the back of Sergeant Banner’s head, then strutted to the water cooler muttering, “I’m no fucking maid.”
“What’s on your mind, Cullen?” The Sergeant asked, propping himself against the wall near the doorway of the break room.
“Well, sir, you can tell the girl is traumatized. Maybe even suffering from post traumatic stress or some shit like that. So I don’t think we’re gonna get anything useful out of her tonight.”
“Hm.” He responded pensively with a nod. “An evaluation may be a good idea. Maybe question her with a shrink present.”
“Want me to arrange it?” I asked, preparing to head to a phone.
“Nah, let Newton arrange it. You go tell her the plan, then you can take her when it’s time.”
He proceeded to step away as I turned back in the direction of the room where Bella waited.
“Oh, and Cullen,” he suddenly continued, “find out if she has a place to stay tonight. We need to make sure she’s safe. If she doesn’t have anywhere to go, well, then…” He trailed off, running a pudgy hand over his balding head.
The words I spoke next flowed without a second’s thought beforehand.
“She can stay with me.”
____________________________________________
Let me know your thoughts on this one!
I met a man who wasn’t there
He wasn’t there again today
Oh, how I wish he’d go away
~ Hughes Mearns
BPOV
As I awoke encased in darkness, a piercing ache radiated through the small of my back and into my tailbone. My body screamed in opposition as I tried to uselessly shift to a more comfortable position in the cramped space. I was leaning against something hard and sat upon something of equal hardness. I instinctively brought my fingertips up to trace along my surroundings, but they only fell on more hardness on either side of me. It felt cold and smooth, the way I would imagine a wooden coffin would feel.
My neck also burned as if pin needles were set ablaze then used to prick my skin without an ounce of care.
My butt was numb as were my feet, which had obviously been tucked under my body an unknown length of time. I pulled them from under me, the tingling sensation setting in immediately as I bent my knees up to be parallel with my chin.
Once I moved on from the pain in my numerous joints, the question of ‘where the hell am I’ emerged in my thoughts. It was as if my short-term memory was as blank as the space around me and I could only remember things in snatches.
Grainy images of milk being poured into a glass flashed in my head. I could see myself inhaling the fresh summery scent of the dandelions and daisies that were perched on the window sill in a clear vase. Then like a veil fell over my reverie, my vision turned red, and suddenly there was…
Fear.
Fear enveloped me, and my breath hitched. I closed my eyes as I sat, attempting to conjure up my distant memories.
The glimpse of a faceless form, a monster, appeared in my mind’s eye, watching. The image of him was nothing more than an shadowy silhouette, yet he released a menacing vibe that terrorized me to the core. The monster could have been as tall and threatening as Goliath, but I couldn’t be sure as I quickly became desperate to repel the image of him from my head. My eyes clenched tightly, and I flinched, wishing the sight away. And then I saw Lauren standing--
Oh, God, Lauren!
My memory then brought forth the sound of a moist thud, like an ice pick being rammed into a watermelon. Something happened, but I didn’t want to know what. I wanted to shrink away or be painted black so I could fade into the dark place in which I sat.
As if God heard my silent plea and was rejecting it, I heard scattered voices filtering into my ears.
The faceless monster must have returned. I cradled my knees to my chest and buried my head, hoping against hope that I would either be saved or killed quickly. I inevitably lost control of my nerves and couldn’t hold back the shakes that jolted my cells as I awaited my fate.
The moment before madness ensues is a moment as familiar to me as bullies to school children. The terror is so unbearable that you simply want to get it over with already, the way you feel seconds before vomiting.
A sudden beam of light penetrated the darkness, but I didn’t look up and kept waiting. Seconds seemed to become hours as I kept my head submerged in whatever clothing I was wearing. The soft pillow-like bundle of fabric covering my knees was the only defense against the attacker I knew was peering down at me.
“Hello?” A meek voice called, and I shrieked at the sound of it.
It was a male voice that struck me as soothing, but I couldn’t be fooled. I yearned with every fiber of my being to implore that soft voice to just kill me swiftly. I fought with myself, but my dangerous curiosity won out, and I lifted my head from my knees.
And my eyes fell on a man. The moisture that had accumulated in them blurred the full view of his appearance, but I could swear I was gazing upon an angel. Compassion was visible in his expression, and his seemingly flawless face looked upon me with sincere concern.
“I’m Detective Edward Cullen.” I remained tentative, still suspicious that he could be the monster in an angelic disguise. But he continued, “It’s ok. You’re safe.” The would-be angel turned his head to glance at a barely noticeable man standing behind him, then brought it back to me. “We’re cops.”
Cops.
The word brought with it understanding, and I released a heavy breath.
“Can you come out of there, please?” With caution, he extended his hand to me.
The hesitation of accepting it was short lived, and I brought my own hand up to grasp his lightly.
In an instant, and even before my hand was entirely in his, a sense of comfort washed over me. It wasn’t necessary to look at his features, although I knew even in my unsteady haze that they were beautiful. The sunlight pouring in from the window reflected off his deep copper hair, making it appear on the verge of flames.
I rose to full height, which was still significantly shorter than his tall stature, and the tremble in my body did not stop. I involuntarily began to whimper as the tremors affected even my vocal chords.
“That’s better.” The angel spoke again. As if unable to control myself, I leaned into him, and my head found a place against his chest. The beating of his heart pounded against my temple as fresh adrenaline still coursed through his body.
Strangely, my body pined for his hands on me. It seemed that at that moment, the world only contained the two of us, and he was the only remedy for the twistedness I was experiencing.
And then his hands were on my back, and my senses went wild in spite of myself.
“What’s your name, Miss?” He asked.
I uselessly opened my mouth, not for one second expecting any sound to come out. But as I trembled and quaked, I rasped out, “Bella.”
Now get me the hell out of here.
*~*~* 7:00 PM*~*~*
EPOV
The questioning was not going well. We sat in that small white bricked room at the station with Sergeant Banner, the big burly man who had been my superior for nearly the past year, as Bella was taken through all the standard questions.
“Full name?”
“Isabella Marie Swan.”
“Age?”
“Nineteen.”
The answer of her age surprised me. This girl that sat across from me, wearing the white bag posing as a dress was nineteen? The frail, broken person who was so thin that the tiny straps of the dress seemed to cling to her shoulders for dear life was actually a young adult?
Her pony tailed hair was still falling in her face, but she made no attempt to swat it away. Instead, she stared at an invisible spot on the table and methodically answered our questions one by one.
“Date of birth?”
“September 13, 1987.”
“Where are you from?”
“Phoenix, Arizona.”
I caught myself from time to time subconsciously studying her face as though by looking hard enough I would maybe begin to understand her.
There had been some kind of strange connection between us when we embraced while standing next to that armoire. My pulse had been calm and steady even as I pulled her out of it. But the moment she found comfort against my chest, my heart responded, and its beating quickened pace.
“Did you know the victim well?”
“Not really.”
“How long had you known her?”
“One week.”
We were getting to the hard part. There was no doubt in my mind that Bella had experienced something traumatizing, and I was fully prepared to stop this interview in the event that she have a breakdown at any of the questions asked.
The very mention of Lauren Mallory seemed to be enough to bring on the panicking process. It was evident in her sudden intake of breath, her face becoming devoid of any color, and the way her body began to break out in those familiar shakes.
“When was the last time you saw Lauren alive, Bella?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did you see anything of what happened to her?”
“I…I don’t know. I d-don’t remember.”
She was stumbling. My next indication that it was getting to be too much for her. Her breathing had accelerated to a worrisome speed, and beads of sweat were now visible along her brow.
I looked at my superior as he leisurely sipped from his still full cup of coffee like he was completely failing to notice the terror stricken young woman seated before him.
“Sergeant Banner, can I talk to you for a minute?” This shit needed to stop.
“Sure, Cullen.” Taking one last meager sip, he stood and addressed Bella. “We’ll be back shortly, Miss Swan. You take a break and relax.”
I looked to her, and our eyes found each other’s as I rose to my feet. I could almost feel those deep brown orbs penetrating my very soul, and I threw her a nod, a faulty attempt at trying to be reassuring.
I turned and followed Sergeant Banner out of the room. We were met by the overly anxious Mike Newton as he expectantly waited outside the door for his opportunity to get in on the questioning.
“Newton, get Miss Swan a cup of water.” The Sergeant ordered without so much as a glance at him.
I smirked in amusement as Newton narrowed his eyes at the back of Sergeant Banner’s head, then strutted to the water cooler muttering, “I’m no fucking maid.”
“What’s on your mind, Cullen?” The Sergeant asked, propping himself against the wall near the doorway of the break room.
“Well, sir, you can tell the girl is traumatized. Maybe even suffering from post traumatic stress or some shit like that. So I don’t think we’re gonna get anything useful out of her tonight.”
“Hm.” He responded pensively with a nod. “An evaluation may be a good idea. Maybe question her with a shrink present.”
“Want me to arrange it?” I asked, preparing to head to a phone.
“Nah, let Newton arrange it. You go tell her the plan, then you can take her when it’s time.”
He proceeded to step away as I turned back in the direction of the room where Bella waited.
“Oh, and Cullen,” he suddenly continued, “find out if she has a place to stay tonight. We need to make sure she’s safe. If she doesn’t have anywhere to go, well, then…” He trailed off, running a pudgy hand over his balding head.
The words I spoke next flowed without a second’s thought beforehand.
“She can stay with me.”
____________________________________________
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Chapter 1: The Scene
The blade flew through the air recklessly and blindly, tearing at the flesh of the young woman in its path. Shock and horror overtook her expression as the knife buried itself in her back between her shoulder blades. Her body convulsed at the sudden impact, and her eyes stung with fresh tears that immediately formed and made her sight hazy.
There had been no warning of anyone else in the apartment, no noise. Just the silent sound of her breathing in the quiet bedroom, then suddenly there came the blinding pain that brought her to her knees. She tried to scream out, but quickly discovered that she could not gather any air into her lungs, rendering her vocal chords useless.
The knife was abruptly pulled out of her then struck again, this time plunging into her neck. Her eyes became impossibly wider as she slumped further to the ugly pink carpet covering the floor.
“Why?” She mutely thought to herself. “Why me?”
Her rose colored cheek lost its lush color as it hit the floor. She went limp as she collapsed. As the red blood trickled down the length of her neck, she could feel herself fading and knew she would be gone before anyone would have a chance to save her.
She heard the muffled footsteps as her intruder and (soon-to-be) murderer paced away from her and out of the room. Her vision was becoming increasingly blurry, and suddenly she felt nothing. The pain by the grace of God had disappeared entirely in a flash, signaling that she was now close to dying. The numbness of her entire body was a welcome feeling as she had just experienced more pain than she ever thought she could possibly bear at once. As the light slowly started to fade around her, a sob registered in her ears that she knew did not come from her. Before she could question its origin, she was gone.
*~*~*The Next Day*~*~*
EPOV
The crime scene was perfect. Perfect from a criminal’s perspective anyway. There were no signs of a struggle or intrusion, and the victim was free of any defensive wounds that would possibly yield any useful evidence. The blood splatter had been kept to a minimum as it seemed the killer only struck two times, once in the back and once in the neck. But the victim’s black dress was visibly soaked with blood, and a coagulated jelly-like pool had formed underneath her body. The most blood seemed to have come from the wound in her neck, which most likely had stuck an artery and would have bled out quite rapidly. The other wound in her back also bled significantly. The point of entry was apparent by a jagged tear in the fabric of her dress.
Her long blonde hair was caked with dried blood and was spread wildly across her face, obstructing any view of her features. Black stiletto heels adorned her feet, and a small red leather purse lay about a foot away from her hip. She looked to be in her early twenties perhaps. A black handled knife sat on the floor near the victim‘s head. The blade looked to be painted red, and blood was splayed around it, indicating that it had been dropped carelessly.
“What’s the victim’s name?” I inquired of my partner, Mike Newton, who was also a certifiable asshole.
“Lauren Mallory.”
“Age?” I asked, my eyes still focused on the dead girl.
“21.” He responded.
“What do we know so far?” I took my eyes off the body and scanned the room around me. The room was dark, with deep colored wood paneled walls and ugly ass pink carpet on the floor. The bed was small with a cheap purple comforter laid out across it, and a simple aged white dresser sat on the opposite side of the room next to what appeared to be a large antique wood armoire. It was a cheap apartment, the cheapest place you could find in Forks, Washington. The police were accustomed to being called to that particular complex, but rarely did we detectives have to be brought in.
“First cops on the scene arrived after she didn’t show up to work today, and the landlord was called by her boss when she wasn‘t answering her phone.” Newton began. “He came with the keys, but the door was already unlocked. He walked through the apartment, found her, then ran the hell out and called the police.”
“Alright. What about neighbors?” I asked, while walking slowly around the small room.
“They didn’t hear shit.” He said with a shake of his head. “I’m figuring this to have went down last night based on the look of the blood. This didn’t just happen.”
I nodded. “I agree. We need to find her friends, family. See if there’s anyone out there who’d want to hurt her. We can’t do shit here until the crime lab is done anyway.”
He smirked at me and chuckled. “Well, Cullen, you’re just as much a rookie at this work as I am. What’s your opinion of the crime scene?”
The prick was mocking me as he always did. He was right; We were both rookies at the job, but his need to compete with me did nothing but piss me the hell off. At the age of 24, we were both in our first year as full blown homicide detectives. I had been paired with his arrogant ass when I arrived to Forks after graduating from the academy in Seattle, and his need to one-up me was annoying right away. I didn’t care to give him my opinion. All I cared to do when he smirked at me that way was shove my black shiny shoe right up his ass.
“My opinion doesn’t matter, but what it looks like is someone knew her or was watching her. Then they surprised her when they entered. Hell, the door could’ve been unlocked, giving them easy access.”
He smirked again, spiking my annoyance to the maximum. “Good observation. Obvious, but good.”
I rolled my eyes and flipped him the bird with a snicker, then proceeded to head toward the hallway off the bedroom.
Before my foot passed the threshold, the sound of movement behind me in the bedroom startled me. I swung around to look at Newton, and his expression of bewilderment must have mirrored mine.
“What the hell was that?” I asked, almost in a whisper.
He slowly shook his head, silently telling me he was just as clueless as I was.
The noise sounded again. It was some kind of scuffling as if a large mouse had been let loose in the room. We glanced at each other knowingly and nodded, unclasping our holsters which housed our firearms, preparing to pull them at a second’s notice. We stealthily stepped back into the room, and the quiet scuffling resonated in our ears again.
I knew by the third time where it was coming from, and I pointed to the antique armoire. Newton nodded in agreement, and we crept to it carefully. We knew not to make a sound since it was always possible that the person inside could have a weapon ready if they were alerted to our presence.
We reached the armoire, and Newton hung back, his hand firmly on his weapon. With swift action, I grabbed the tiny handle and forced the door open.
And my eyes fell on a girl. I couldn’t see her face, for her head was buried into her long white dress. Her scraggly brown hair was in a lose ponytail with pieces falling and laying against her cheeks. She was shaking, and her pale skin was covered with goosebumps.
Her fragileness and apparent fear made me concerned. Questions instantly flooded my mind as to why she was in this armoire, and how long had she been there. I knew whatever she had witnessed must have made her wracked with horror, so I approached her cautiously.
“Hello?” I asked softly. She shrieked and finally lifted her head to look at me. Terror was evident in her eyes, and the flesh around them was purple and sunk in. Her form was frail and wiry.
“I’m Detective Edward Cullen.” I continued to speak softly, but her expression remained frightened. Her breathing was rapid, and her body still quaked. “It’s ok. You’re safe.” I glanced at Newton then back at the girl. “We’re cops.”
Understanding seemed to cross her face somewhat, and she let out a heavy sigh.
“Can you come out of there, please?” I asked, lifting my hand and offering it her.
She stared at my hand for a moment, obviously confused and still scared, but she eventually reached her hand up tentatively and took mine. I pulled her out slowly, and barely audible whimpers escaped her mouth as she stood erect.
“That’s better.” I told her. As if she were unable to control herself, she leaned into me and placed her head gently against my chest. I was unsure of how to react to her gesture, but compassion overtook me, and I placed my hands lightly on her small back. “What’s your name, Miss?”
In a shaky and raspy voice, she replied, “Bella.”
___________________________________________________
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There had been no warning of anyone else in the apartment, no noise. Just the silent sound of her breathing in the quiet bedroom, then suddenly there came the blinding pain that brought her to her knees. She tried to scream out, but quickly discovered that she could not gather any air into her lungs, rendering her vocal chords useless.
The knife was abruptly pulled out of her then struck again, this time plunging into her neck. Her eyes became impossibly wider as she slumped further to the ugly pink carpet covering the floor.
“Why?” She mutely thought to herself. “Why me?”
Her rose colored cheek lost its lush color as it hit the floor. She went limp as she collapsed. As the red blood trickled down the length of her neck, she could feel herself fading and knew she would be gone before anyone would have a chance to save her.
She heard the muffled footsteps as her intruder and (soon-to-be) murderer paced away from her and out of the room. Her vision was becoming increasingly blurry, and suddenly she felt nothing. The pain by the grace of God had disappeared entirely in a flash, signaling that she was now close to dying. The numbness of her entire body was a welcome feeling as she had just experienced more pain than she ever thought she could possibly bear at once. As the light slowly started to fade around her, a sob registered in her ears that she knew did not come from her. Before she could question its origin, she was gone.
*~*~*The Next Day*~*~*
EPOV
The crime scene was perfect. Perfect from a criminal’s perspective anyway. There were no signs of a struggle or intrusion, and the victim was free of any defensive wounds that would possibly yield any useful evidence. The blood splatter had been kept to a minimum as it seemed the killer only struck two times, once in the back and once in the neck. But the victim’s black dress was visibly soaked with blood, and a coagulated jelly-like pool had formed underneath her body. The most blood seemed to have come from the wound in her neck, which most likely had stuck an artery and would have bled out quite rapidly. The other wound in her back also bled significantly. The point of entry was apparent by a jagged tear in the fabric of her dress.
Her long blonde hair was caked with dried blood and was spread wildly across her face, obstructing any view of her features. Black stiletto heels adorned her feet, and a small red leather purse lay about a foot away from her hip. She looked to be in her early twenties perhaps. A black handled knife sat on the floor near the victim‘s head. The blade looked to be painted red, and blood was splayed around it, indicating that it had been dropped carelessly.
“What’s the victim’s name?” I inquired of my partner, Mike Newton, who was also a certifiable asshole.
“Lauren Mallory.”
“Age?” I asked, my eyes still focused on the dead girl.
“21.” He responded.
“What do we know so far?” I took my eyes off the body and scanned the room around me. The room was dark, with deep colored wood paneled walls and ugly ass pink carpet on the floor. The bed was small with a cheap purple comforter laid out across it, and a simple aged white dresser sat on the opposite side of the room next to what appeared to be a large antique wood armoire. It was a cheap apartment, the cheapest place you could find in Forks, Washington. The police were accustomed to being called to that particular complex, but rarely did we detectives have to be brought in.
“First cops on the scene arrived after she didn’t show up to work today, and the landlord was called by her boss when she wasn‘t answering her phone.” Newton began. “He came with the keys, but the door was already unlocked. He walked through the apartment, found her, then ran the hell out and called the police.”
“Alright. What about neighbors?” I asked, while walking slowly around the small room.
“They didn’t hear shit.” He said with a shake of his head. “I’m figuring this to have went down last night based on the look of the blood. This didn’t just happen.”
I nodded. “I agree. We need to find her friends, family. See if there’s anyone out there who’d want to hurt her. We can’t do shit here until the crime lab is done anyway.”
He smirked at me and chuckled. “Well, Cullen, you’re just as much a rookie at this work as I am. What’s your opinion of the crime scene?”
The prick was mocking me as he always did. He was right; We were both rookies at the job, but his need to compete with me did nothing but piss me the hell off. At the age of 24, we were both in our first year as full blown homicide detectives. I had been paired with his arrogant ass when I arrived to Forks after graduating from the academy in Seattle, and his need to one-up me was annoying right away. I didn’t care to give him my opinion. All I cared to do when he smirked at me that way was shove my black shiny shoe right up his ass.
“My opinion doesn’t matter, but what it looks like is someone knew her or was watching her. Then they surprised her when they entered. Hell, the door could’ve been unlocked, giving them easy access.”
He smirked again, spiking my annoyance to the maximum. “Good observation. Obvious, but good.”
I rolled my eyes and flipped him the bird with a snicker, then proceeded to head toward the hallway off the bedroom.
Before my foot passed the threshold, the sound of movement behind me in the bedroom startled me. I swung around to look at Newton, and his expression of bewilderment must have mirrored mine.
“What the hell was that?” I asked, almost in a whisper.
He slowly shook his head, silently telling me he was just as clueless as I was.
The noise sounded again. It was some kind of scuffling as if a large mouse had been let loose in the room. We glanced at each other knowingly and nodded, unclasping our holsters which housed our firearms, preparing to pull them at a second’s notice. We stealthily stepped back into the room, and the quiet scuffling resonated in our ears again.
I knew by the third time where it was coming from, and I pointed to the antique armoire. Newton nodded in agreement, and we crept to it carefully. We knew not to make a sound since it was always possible that the person inside could have a weapon ready if they were alerted to our presence.
We reached the armoire, and Newton hung back, his hand firmly on his weapon. With swift action, I grabbed the tiny handle and forced the door open.
And my eyes fell on a girl. I couldn’t see her face, for her head was buried into her long white dress. Her scraggly brown hair was in a lose ponytail with pieces falling and laying against her cheeks. She was shaking, and her pale skin was covered with goosebumps.
Her fragileness and apparent fear made me concerned. Questions instantly flooded my mind as to why she was in this armoire, and how long had she been there. I knew whatever she had witnessed must have made her wracked with horror, so I approached her cautiously.
“Hello?” I asked softly. She shrieked and finally lifted her head to look at me. Terror was evident in her eyes, and the flesh around them was purple and sunk in. Her form was frail and wiry.
“I’m Detective Edward Cullen.” I continued to speak softly, but her expression remained frightened. Her breathing was rapid, and her body still quaked. “It’s ok. You’re safe.” I glanced at Newton then back at the girl. “We’re cops.”
Understanding seemed to cross her face somewhat, and she let out a heavy sigh.
“Can you come out of there, please?” I asked, lifting my hand and offering it her.
She stared at my hand for a moment, obviously confused and still scared, but she eventually reached her hand up tentatively and took mine. I pulled her out slowly, and barely audible whimpers escaped her mouth as she stood erect.
“That’s better.” I told her. As if she were unable to control herself, she leaned into me and placed her head gently against my chest. I was unsure of how to react to her gesture, but compassion overtook me, and I placed my hands lightly on her small back. “What’s your name, Miss?”
In a shaky and raspy voice, she replied, “Bella.”
___________________________________________________
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