So, obviously, this story has NOT been deleted. I decided to continue with it and I hope you guys enjoy what is to come! Thank you so much for everyone's patience with my stupidness. I'm sorry for freaking a few people out.
So here's a new chapter!
(I didn't have time to proofread, I'm sorry)
When I climbed the stairs to my apartment that night, I was so exhausted that it was hard for my eyelids to remain open. My feet dragged sluggishly over the stained floorboards. Esme's optimism had been particularly difficult that day. I had shrugged off her concern.
I purposely kept Bella's appearance from James. James Caldier was my boss, the one who supervised everything I did and kept the police from investigating my hits too closely. I was strictly a small-time hitman by my own choice. I didn't want to become involved in the political rivalries of powerful men. For now, at least, warring lovers and jilted business men were my customers. James was always present when a contract was drafted.
Through the past few years I had known him, James had sort of acted as a pimp for all intents and purposes. It was almost amusing the parallels between my life and that of a hooker.
In a thick haze of exhaustion, my key slipped through the lock in the door. The interior of my apartment was as dark was the inside of a sealed coffin, thick and suffocating. I mechanically stripped off my clothing as I did every night. My mind was in other places as I moved towards the bed. I didn't care enough to brush my teeth or shower; it was an effort simply for my eyes to remain open.
The softness of my bed was heavenly and I nearly wept with relief. Immediately, I fell asleep. In my dreams I saw the girl with the dark eyes and misused body – Bella. She was lying beside me on the bed, her eyes watching me. Then, in my dream, she reached slowly out and brushed her fingertips over the head of my cock. Her touch was so real and solid, yet was softer than a baby's breath. Sharp spikes of pleasure shot up through my shaft and balls, imploding inside my body. I groaned deeply, pushing my hips into her hand.
It had been years since I had known the feel of a woman's flesh, years since I had attempted to lose myself in the ecstasy that was immediately followed by guilt and disgust. I had long since forgotten carnal desires, repulsed by the fakes smiles of the plastic blondes and brunettes. They could never understand the true meaning of pain, the reality of knowing that – no matter what good you did – you were bound for Hell because of all the lives you had taken.
And so, I had rejected every woman that had attempted to touch me.
Yet I yearned for this girl whose spirit was as shattered as her body. Abruptly a startled cry woke me and I saw that she clung desperately to the bed as if frightened she would fall off the side. It was then that I realized that the reason my dream was so vivid was because it had actually happened. Bella had really touched me and I had reacted.
Her eyes were wide and fearful as she stared at me. Something in her stiff demeanor suggested that she was anticipating violence. I could see in her eyes that she believed she had overstepped some boundary and now she was unconsciously readying herself for the assault.
No. She couldn't believe that I would ever harm her, could she? How could she think I could ever do anything to hurt her? She was like a toddler cowering in the corner, waiting for the first blow to come.
And she didn't even know it.
She didn't realize how she was acting, it was so instinctive to her – a learned behavior from a lifetime of abuse.
I had to make her see that I could not and would not hurt her.
"Come here," I murmured softly, reaching my hand slowly towards her. My member was still hard but I studiously ignored it, hoping my erection would go away.
It was impossible to ignore the way my black t-shirt fit her and how beautifully pale her skin was. The darkness enveloping the room cast shadows across her features and small form. Realizing I was still naked, I reached over, pulling the sheet quickly over me, hoping that would make her more comfortable.
She hesitated, her eyes traveling down to my erect dick.
A swift, hot spiral of lust twisted within my shaft. My hands twitched as I fought the impulse to curl them into fists to resist my desire. Her stare was like a hot tongue on the head of my cock. This attraction I felt towards her was dangerous. I had to exterminate any curiosity I had, any pity.
But then she moved towards me slowly, hesitantly – just as I had asked – and I forgot everything but her haunted dark eyes as they came closer. It was evident by her breathing that her heart was speeding and I didn't know if it was from anxiety or arousal.
"Don't be afraid of me," I said softly, brushing her soft hair from her face, those deep tragic eyes staring back at me with a look I could not fathom. "I could never hurt you."
"I'm not afraid," she murmured, the sound the barest of noise. She lay on her side facing me, her face less than a foot from mine.
Her proximity felt somehow more intimate than the most erotic of touches. She stared into my eyes with a soft probing curiosity, as if she wished to draw my dark soul out into the light of day. I felt the heat of her body in the air around my naked skin.
Never had I allowed anyone to look this closely at me. Of course she saw my tarnished heart. Of course she saw my fucked-up soul. How could she not? The very thought of this angelic creature looking into the black tar of my sins made me cringe. It was ludicrous, but I wanted her to forever think of me how she did the first night I saw her – as an angel. Quickly, I looked away from the eyes that had so captivated me. I turned so that I lay on my back, staring at the ceiling.
In the darkness, his features were less discernable. There was a strangeness in his jaw that reminded me of Charlie, my father. No, I wouldn't think of that. This Edward was nothing like my Father. Nothing at all.
I forced that brutally from my mind along with the startling explosion of fear any thought of Charlie produced in me.
Abruptly he pulled away, laying on his back. The sudden movement stunned me and I froze. Without thinking, I asked, "Did I do something wrong?"
His sharp green eyes turned to mine. "No. No you didn't." With a deep, irritated sigh, he looked back up at the ceiling.
What was going on? Why was he acting as if he was aggravated that he ever had to speak to me? Because he was annoyed I was here. He wanted nothing to do with me. The only thing I was to him was a burden.
"Forgive me for even being here," I muttered acridly, sitting up.
"I never asked you to pick me up out of the street," I spat, cringing at the spiderweb of agony that spread through my body. I gasped and paused, gritting my teeth. I couldn't imagine how being beaten with a sledgehammer could be much different than this. When the pain faded to a dull throbbing, I stood to my feet. "You don't have to do me anymore favors. Thank you for everything but I have to go now."
I didn't know where I was going to go or how I was going to live on my own without even a decent pair of clothes. My utter helplessness infuriated me, making my heart race and my blood boil. There was no way I could support myself, and that knowledge only angered me. And what would I do about Jessica, my smaller sister? I couldn't simply leave her with him.
I stumbled to the corner in which I had dropped my clothes.
"Where the hell do you think you're going?" he demanded, sitting up, the sheet falling to his waist.
"I'm leaving, dammit! I know you've hated having me around. I'm sorry I've been such a burden to you. I'm sorry you found me in the street. I'm sorry my fucking father beat the shit out of me!" My voice was at a yell, cracking pathetically on the last word. I was on the verge of dangerous, heated tears – tears completely weak and pitiful.
Edward stood quickly up out of the bed, the sheet falling from his body as fluidly as water, slipping back to the mattress. "Wait, just think about this for a minute," he began rationally, reaching for me.
I moved quickly out of his reach and whirled to meet his eyes. "I know you don't want me here, you don't have to tell me. I know I'm just some girl you think of as someone that needs help and maybe I do need it, but I sure as hell won't get it from you! So you can just go back to your perfect life and your perfect face, and leave me the fuck alone!" Hot tears streamed down my face and I could tell my reasoning was flawed. I could no longer remember why I was yelling and a splitting headache was beginning inside my mind. I took a deep breath, but it did nothing to control the blinding fury inside me. I was so angry, at myself, at him, and at most of all at Charlie. Everything was my father's fault; he was the reason I was crying and screaming.
"My perfect life?" Edward's voice was incredulous, his naked body firmly sculpted and nicely shadowed in the night that caressed our skin. "You don't know anything about me," he spat lowly, his eyes like daggers into my soul. "How could you possibly know what my life has been? You don't. You're just a pathetic little girl who thinks she knows everyone's business. So don't give me this shit that you know what I've been through. You know nothing."
The tears came faster, hotter, and I frantically tried to pull my jeans on, managing to get them up to my hips before a deep, tearing sob racked my chest.
And something inside me cracked, shattering into irreplaceable shards, slicing my heart. My anger vanished as if it had been all part of a magic show, and I felt that most terrifying of feelings
Again, I had turned into that hollow creature with no feelings. "You're right," I whispered as I sank to the floor. "I'm pathetic. I don't deserve even the kindness you have shown me. I'll leave, I promise." Looking up into his eyes, I attempted to smile. "I'll leave now." Carefully I lifted myself to my hands and knees despite the sharp lances of pain from my abdomen. I wondered vaguely how a broken rib would feel.
My God, what I had done?
Looking at her as she crawled towards my apartment door, her movements disjointed and jerky from her pain, my heart broke. How could I have said those things to her? How could I have been so heartless? I had just tried to convince her that I would never harm her, and yet I hurt her as deeply as anyone could. Was I really so cruel?
"No, Bella," I whispered, sinking down to the floor beside her as she slowly moved towards the door. "Don't go, please." I hesitantly touched my hand to her back, feeling the heat of her skin through her shirt. "I should have never said what I did. It was so wrong of me. Please don't leave." My voice surprised even myself. I was begging her.
"No, you don't need me hanging around," she murmured half-heartedly, stopping in her journey to the door. Bella turned towards me, looking into my face. "I really am sorry for bothering you."
"Stop it, Bella, you haven't bothered me," I said a little too harshly. I immediately softened my tone. "What I said wasn't true. I was only upset because I remembered my past, and it isn't something I like to relive." I spoke the last sentence stiffly. This was the closest I had ever come to speaking of my past with anyone. Ever. Purposely I shoved the harsh memories into the back of my mind to be confronted hopefully years later.
As much as I tried to push back my emotions, I couldn't escape the fact that I hated myself for what I had just did. I had just shattered her heart more than it already was. It was long moments before I realized what had just passed between us. Now I saw her words without the veil of anger. She believed she was a burden to me; she believed that I wanted her gone; and her father had beat her. Had he left her in the street that night? Or had she crawled there?
If I didn't know anything else, I now knew that I wanted her here. That decision would probably be the biggest mistake I had ever made, but I wanted it so badly then. For reasons I could not imagine, I needed her desperately.
"I've been alone for so long, Bella," I said softly, taking her hands gently in mine. "Such a very long time. Please stay. Please stay with me."
She stopped breathing then, our eyes locked in a look that I had never experienced before. My nakedness seemed only a minute detail in what was happening now. Her touch was an electrical wire on my skin, filling me with a sparking sensation that was not unpleasant.
I had never bared myself emotionally as much as I did that night. I felt a terror in my bones that I had never felt before. I sat vulnerable on that floor, our hands joined softly, terrified as I had never been since my extreme youth. Rejection was eminent. What other choice did she have than to push me away and continue out that door? It only made sense for her leave me. I knew that. And I was scared of how vacant I would feel when she left, how empty.
"Okay," she murmured, her lips moving slowly. "I want to stay . . . if you'll have me."
And then I drew her closer, cupping her cheek with my left hand. For reasons unknown, I needed her. She made me feel as if I had a purpose in this world.
I knew that, if I wanted to live as I always had, then I had to toss her aside like a used tissue. I had to push her out that door and say it was all a terrible mistake. But I was no longer sure what I wanted. I was no longer certain if I could continue to exist in the hell I had made for myself when she was gone. So I held her jaw gently.
"Stay," I whispered. "Please stay."
Dang, I loved this chapter. I love all the emotional chapters! lol So, Edward is feeling a lot of uncertainty about what he's feeling for Bella and why he needs her. And Bella is experiencing pretty much the same thing.
So, obviously, I'm not deleting this. Thank you so much for everyone's support on the last chapter. I'm going to stick it out though and see how this story turns out.
And if anyone has questions, I will be all too happy to answer them! As long as they're not part of a plot twist I have planned. *winks*