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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