every thing on this pages owned by Stephine Meyer and the goes for he next chapters that i may write
"What are you doing here Bella" Jacob Growled
Jacob had changed radically in the last week since I'd seen him. The first thing I noticed was his hair—his beautiful hair was all gone, cropped quite short covering his head with an inky gloss like black satin. The planes of his face seemed to have tightened subtly . . . aged. His neck and his
shoulders were different, too, thicker somehow. His hands, where they gripped the window framed, looked enormous, with the tendons and veins more prominent under the russet skin. But the physical changes were insignificant.
It was his expression that made him almost completely unrecognizable. The open, friendly smile was gone like the hair, the warmth in his dark altered to a brooding resentment that was instantly disturbing. There was darkness in Jacob now. Like my sun had imploded.
"Jacob?' I whispered.
He just stared at me, his eyes tense and angry. I realized we weren't alone. Behind him stood four others; all tall and russet-skinned, black hair chopped short just like Jacob's. They could have been brothers—I couldn't even pick Embry out of the group. The resemblance was only intensified by the strikingly similar hostility in every pair of eyes.
Every pair, but one. The oldest by several years, Sam stood in the very back, his face serene and sure. I had to shallow back the bile that rose in my throat. I wanted to take a swing at him. No, I wanted to do more then that. More then anything, I wanted to be fierce and deadly, someone no one would dare mess with. Someone who would scare Sam Uley silly. I wanted to be a vampire.
The violent desire caught me off guard and knocked the wind out of me. It was the most forbidden of all wishes—even when I only wished it for a malicious reason like this, to gain an advantage over an enemy—because it was the most painful. That future was lost to me forever had never really been within my grasp. I scrambled to gain control of myself while the hole in my chest ached hollowly.
"What do you want" Jake demanded, his expression growing more resentful as he watched the play of emotion across my face.
"I want to talk to you," I said in a weak voice. I tried to focus, but I was still reeling against the escape of my taboo dream.
"Go ahead," he hissed through his teeth. His glare was vicious. I'd never seen him look at anyone like that, least of all me. It hurt with a surprising intensity—a physical pain, a stabbing in my head.
"Alone!" I hissed, and my voice was stronger.
He looked behind him, and I knew where his eyes would go. Every one of them was turned for Sam's reaction.
Sam nodded his face unperturbed. He mad a quick comment in an unfamiliar, liquid language—I could only be positive that it wasn't French or Spanish, but I guessed that it was Quileute. He turned and walked into Jacobs's house. The others Paul, Jared and Embry I assumed followed him in.
"Okay." Jacob seemed a bit less furious when the others were gone. His face was a little calmer, but also more hopeless. His mouth seemed permanently pulled down at the corners.
I took a deep breath. "You know what I want to know"
He didn't answer. He just stared at me bitterly.
I stared back and the silence stretched on. The pain in his face unnerved me. I felt a lump beginning to build in my throat.
"Can we walk?" I asked while I could still speak. He didn't respond in any way; his face didn't change. I got out of the car, felling unseen eyes behind the windows on me. My feet squished in the damp grass and mud beside the road, and as that was the only sound, at first I thought he
Wasn't following me. But when I glanced around, he was right beside me; his feet having somehow found a less noisy path then mine.
I felt better in the fringe trees where Sam couldn't possibly be watched. As we walked, I struggled for the right thing to say, but noting came. I just got more and more angry that Jacob had sucked in. . . . That Billy had allowed this . . . that Sam was able to stand there so assured and calm . . .
Jacob suddenly picked up the pace, striding ahead of me easily with his long legs, and then swinging around to face me, planting himself in my
path so I would have to stop too.
I was distracted by the overt grace of his movement. Jacob had been nearly as klutzy as me with his never ending growth spurt. When did that change?
But Jacob didn't give me time to think about it.
"Let's get this over with," he said in a hard, husky voice.
I waited. He knew what I wanted
"It's not what you think." His voice was abruptly weary.
"It's not what I though—I was way off."
"So what is it, then?"
He studied my face for a long moment, speculating.
The anger never completely left his eyes. "I can't tell you," he finally said.
My jaw tightened, and I spoke through my teeth. "I thought we were friends."
"We were." There was a slight emphasis on the past tense.
"But you don't need friend any more," I said sourly. "You have Sam. Isn't that nice—you've always looked up to him so much"
"I didn't understand him before"
"And now you've seen the light. Hallelujah."
"It wasn't like I thought it was. This isn't Sam's fault. He's helping me as much as he cam." His voice turned brittle and he looked over my head, past me, rage burning out from his eyes.
"He's helping you," I repeated dubiously. "Naturally"
But Jacob didn't seem to be listening. He was taking deep, deliberate breaths, trying to calm himself. He was so mad that his hands were shaking.
"Jacob, please," I whispered. "Won't you tell me what happened I can help you?"
"No one can help me now." The words were a low moan; his voice broke.
"What did he do to you?" I demanded, tears collecting in my eyes. I reached out to him, as I had once before, stepping forward with my arms wide.
This time he cringed away, holding his hands up defensively. "Don't touch me," he whispered.
"Is Sam catching?" I mumbled. The stupid tears had escaped the corners of my eyes. I wiped them away with the back of my hand, and folded my arms across my chest.
"Stop blaming Sam." The words came out fast, like a reflex. His hands reached up to twist around the hair that was no longer there, and fell limply at his sides.
"Then who should I blame?" I retorted.
He half way smiled; it was a bleak, twisted thing.
"You don't want to hear that"
"The hell I don't" I snapped. "I want to know, and I want to know NOW"
"You're wrong" he snapped back
"Don't you dare tell me I'm wrong—im not the one who got brainwashed? Tell me now whose fault this all is, if it isn't your precious Sam!"
"You asked for it." he growled at me, eyes glinting hard. "If you want to blame someone, why don't you blame those filthy, reeking bloodsuckers that you love so much?"
My mouth fell open and my breath came out with a whooshing sound. I was frozen in place, stabbed through with his double-edged words the pain twisted in familiar patterns through my body, the jagged hole ripping me open from the inside out, but it was second lace, background music to the chaos of my thoughts. I couldn't believe that I'd heard him correctly. There was no trace of indecision in his face. Only fury.
My mouth hung wide.
"I told you that you didn't want to hear it" he said.
"I don't understand who you mean." I whispered.
He raised one eyebrow in disbelief. "I think you understand exactly who I mean. You're not going to make me say it, are you? I don't like hurting you."
"I don't understand who you mean," I repeated mechanically.
"The Cullen's," she said slowly, drawing out the word, scrutinizing my face as he spoke it. "I saw that—I can see in you eyes what it does to you when I say their name."
I shook my head back and fourth in denial, trying to clear it at the same time. How did he know this? And how did it have anything to do with Sam's cult? Was it a gang of vampire-haters? What was the point of forming such a group when no vampires lived in Forks anymore? Why would Jacob start believing the stories about the Cullen's now, when the evidence of them was long gone, never to return?
It took me too long to come up with the correct response. "Don't tell me you listening to Billy's superstitious nonsense now," I said with a feeble attempt at mockery.
"He knows more then I gave him credit for"
"Be serious, Jacob."
He glared at me, his eyes critical.
"Superstitions aside," I said "I still don't see what you're accusing the . . . Cullen's"—wince— "of. They left more then half a year ago. How can you blame them for what Sam is doing now?"
"Sam isn't doing anything, Bella. And I know there gone. But sometimes. . Things are set in motion, and then it's too late."
"What's set in motion? What's too late? What are you blaming them for?'
He was suddenly right in my face, his fury glowing in his eyes. "For existing," he hissed.
I was surprised and distracted as the warning words came in Edward's voice again, when I wasn't even scared.
"Quiet now, Bella. Don't push him," Edward cautioned in my ear.
Ever since Edward's name had broken through the careful walls I'd buried it behind, I'd been unable to lock it up again. It didn't hurt-not during the
precious seconds when I could hear his voice.
Jacob was fuming in front of me, quivering with anger.
I didn't understand why Edward delusion was unexpectedly in my mind. Jacob was livid, but he was Jacob.
There was no adrenaline, no danger." give him a chance to calm down"Edward's voice insisted.
I shook my head in confusion. "You're being ridiculous" I told them both.
"Fine" Jacob answered, breathing deeply again. "I won't argue it with you. It doesn't matter anyway, the damage is done."
He didn't flinch as I shouted the words in his face.
"Let's head back. There nothing more to say."
I gaped. "There's everything more to say! You haven't said anything yet!"
He walked past me, striding back toward the hours.
"I ran into Quil today," I yelled after him.
He paused middstep, but didn't turn.
You remember your friend, Quil? Yeah he's terrified."
Jacob whirled to face me. His expression was pained.
"Quil" was all he said.
"He's worried about you, too. He's freaked out."
Jacob past me with desperate eyes.
I goaded him further. "He's frightened that he's next"
Jacob clutched at a tree for support, his face turning a strange shade of green under the red—brown surface. "He won't be next." Jacob muttered to himself. "He can't be. It's over now. This shouldn't still be happening. Why? Why?" his first slammed aging the tree. It wasn't a big tree, slender and only a few feet taller then Jacob. But it still surprised me when the trunk gave way and snapped off loudly under his blows.
Jacob stared at the sharp, broken point with shock that quickly turned to horror.
"I have to get back" he whirled and stalked away so swiftly that I had to jog to keep up.
"Back to Sam!"
"That's one way of looking at it," it sounded like he said. He was mumbling a facing away
I chased him back to the truck. "Wait!" I called as he turned toward the house
He spun around to face me, and saw that his hands were shaking again.
"Go home, Bella. I can't hang out with you anymore."
The silly, inconsequential hurt was incredibly potent.
The tears welled up again. "Are you . . . breaking up with me?" the words were all wrong, but they were the best way I could think to phase with I was asking. After all, what Jake and I had was more than any schoolyard romance. Stronger.
He barked out a bitter laugh. "Hardly. If that were the cause, I'd say Lets sty friends. I can't even say that."
"Jacob . . . why? Sam won't let you have other friends?
Please, Jake you promised. I need you!" The blank emptiness of my life before—before Jacob brought some semblance of reason back into it—reared up and confronted. Loneliness choked in my throat.
"I'm sorry, Bella" Jacob said each word distinctly in a cold voice that didn't seem to belong to him.
I didn't believe that this was really what Jacob wanted to say. It seemed like there was something else trying to be said through his angry eyes, but I couldn't understand the message.
Maybe this wasn't about Sam at all. Maybe he was just trying to pull himself out of a hopeless situation. Maybe I should let him do that, if that's what was best for him. I should do that. It would be right.
But I headed my voice escaping in a whisper.
"I'm sorry that I couldn't . . . before . . . I wish I could change how feel about you, Jacob" I was desperate, reaching stretching the truth so far that it curved nearly into a lie. "Maybe . . . maybe it would change," I whispered. "Maybe, if you gave me some time . . . just don't quit on me now, Jake. I can't take it"
His face went from anger to agony in a second. One shacking hand reached out toward me.
"No. don't think like that, Bella, Please. Don't blame yourself; don't think this is your fault. This one is all me I swear, it's about you."
"It's not yo, it's me," I whispered. "There's a new one"
"I mean it, Bella. I'm not . . ."" he struggled, his voice
"I'm not good enough to be your friends anymore, or anything else. Im not what I was before. I'm not good."
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