1,820A/N: Dearest readers, I'm so sorry it's been so long since I posted on my stories. I've had some health problems the past few months in addition to going through some intensely stressful times. Aside from lack of time, this led to a raging case of writer's block. Life is beginning to calm down, and I anticipate having more time for writing. Thanks for the many PMs and messages of concern. I appreciate each and every one of you!
I recommend reading the previous chapter as a refresh, but I will give a brief recap. In Chapter 38, Edward was arrested for arson. Ash Hunter hired a lawyer to represent Edward, and she gets him out on bail. As Edward is leaving the courthouse, Ali pulls up with news about Bella.
From Chapter 38:
There are two red patches on Ali's cheeks and panic in her eyes. "Maybe you should sit down."
"What happened?" I look toward the passenger side of her little, red car. It's empty. "Where's Bella?"
Ali bites her lip. "I don't know."
"What do you mean, you don't know?" I roar, my voice raw.
Ali hands me a folded piece of paper. "When we woke up this morning, we found this on the breakfast bar." A lone tear slips down her cheek.
Seeing my typically together sister so upset scares me. I fumble with the paper, nearly ripping it in half as I try to get it open. Bella's familiar handwriting scrawls across the notepaper.
Edward,
I'm so sorry I snuck away while Ali and Jasper were sleeping. They've done a great job watching out for me. Please, please, please don't blame them for any of this!
The time I've spent with you has been the best of my life. No matter what happens, nobody can take that away from me—not even him. I couldn't let Phoenix hurt any of you. It's me he wants, and I have to protect those I love. I'm sorry.
Bella
Instinctively, I crumble the note in my fist, squeezing so hard I wonder if it will be pulverized. Closing my eyes, I curse the existence of Phoenix. I take a few deep breaths in an attempt to slow my racing heart and calm my wildly firing nerves. If I'm going to find her, I need a clear head. After a few moments, I look from Ali to Emmett. Both of them watch me carefully.
Releasing my fist, I smooth the crumpled note, folding it and slipping it in my pocket. "I need to find Bella. Let's get to work."
Chapter 39
~Come Home~
I call Sam and ask him to check the traffic cams around our building. I know Ali means well, but I can't bear the sorrow and sympathy emanating from her. While we're waiting for news, I slip into our apartment to get a moment alone. Shutting the door, I slide down the wall to a seated position and grip my hair in both fists. Bella's beautiful face floats behind my lids when I close my eyes.
Why would she do this? Bella is terrified of Phoenix, and we made so much progress the past few weeks. Then again, Bella fears Phoenix hurting those she cares about. The closer we grow, the more there is to lose.
Taking a few deep breaths, I rise to my feet—and that's when I see the lavish bouquet of flowers on the counter. Stalking over to them, I spin the vase, looking for a card. The plastic stem that usually holds a message is empty, but as I turn away, I notice a notecard at my feet. I pick it up and flip it over.
Dearest Isabella,
It's time to come home. I've heard it's better to face the consequences of your actions rather than allow those you care for to suffer in your place. You know where to find me.
Anticipating your return,
Phoenix
"Fuck!" I grab the vase and slam it against the wall. The glass shatters in an explosion of water, stems, and petals. "Damn you, Jimmy!" I yell out. Because even though Phoenix is the evil one, Jimmy let this happen. He pushed Bella into my life, into my arms, without any warning. He left me holding the bag, putting my life and Ali's in danger.
I'm so pissed at him. Then I remember he's dying, and my heart clenches painfully. But I don't need guilt right now; I need to channel my anger constructively so I can find Bella and destroy Phoenix once and for all.
When I try locating Bella's cell, a vibration comes from under the couch. Falling to my knees I sweep my hand along the floor until I snag her phone, hearing the rustle of paper as I pull it toward me. I come up with a receipt from the convenience store and almost toss it aside but flip it over instead. Bella scrawled Farmhouse root cellar across the back.
I grab a taser and hurry out the door. For a moment, I contemplate telling Ali and Jasper but quickly discount it. I want my sister as far away from the danger as possible, and Jasper needs to be around to keep her safe. I take the stairs two at a time, knowing Ali would hear the elevator, and wait until I'm in my car to send her a text.
Sorry, I can't just sit still. Going to the police station to see if Sam has any news. ~E
Then I call Emmett.
"Yo! Any news?" His booming voice is a welcome sound in the chaos.
"Not yet. Hey, are you alone?"
"Not for long," he replies in a singsong voice. "Rosie is coming over."
"I need you, Em." My voice is hoarse and ragged. It's not in my nature to put someone I consider a brother in danger, but Emmett is built like a brick wall, and I don't know if I can handle this bastard on my own.
Emmett's tone changes instantly. "What do you need, man?"
"I think I know where Bella is!" I tell him about the flowers, the note, and the receipt next to her phone. "You can't tell anyone. We're going to get her."
"Message received. I'll tell Rosie I have the shits. That'll keep her away!" Emmett laughs loudly. "Pick me up. I'll be ready."
I hesitate a moment before asking, "Do you have a gun?"
"Nope. Don't worry though—I'll bring a weapon."
Darkness falls as I careen through the streets until I reach Emmett's. He's out front as promised with a baseball bat and tire iron in his arms. He jogs over to the SUV and stores the weapons on the floor of the back seat. He hops into the front and pounds a fist in his palm. He's dressed in black from head to toe—I wish I'd thought of that. I grab a black hoodie from the trunk and yank it on to cover my blue shirt. I stuff the taser in a pocket.
We bump fists, and I grip his shoulder. "Thank you for this. I can't tell you what it means to me."
"I'm your ride or die! I know if I ever need you, you'll be there. We got this. Let's get this asshole!"
My phone vibrates.
You must think I was born yesterday. I know you took Emmett with you. BE CAREFUL! ~Ali
I grimace, shoving the phone back in my pocket. She can guilt me about this later. Right now, I need to focus.
I navigate to the farmhouse and examine the map for alternate approaches. I'm pretty sure I saw a camera by the front door. I don't want Phoenix to see us coming, so I follow a dirt road that lets out on the far side of the property, behind the outbuildings. We leave my car behind some bushes and continue on foot.
The night is eerily still, and ghostly eddies of fog hover above the ground. The massive red and white barn looms ahead. We run along the side wall and then zigzag our way toward the main house, using hay bales, farm equipment, and other structures as cover. We pause behind the shed, which is the last bit of concealment before we reach the back patio.
My mind evokes the memory of the first time I heard Bella's voice, the night Jimmy and I had steaks and beer on the patio. I was envious of their relationship and felt sorry for myself. Now, Bella is mine, and Jimmy is dying. A brief flare of guilt lances my chest, but I push the sting and the memories away.
The weathered white farmhouse hulks in the gloom, appearing abandoned, its many windows dark. The only light comes from the bulb hanging above the back door, creating a wide, yellowish glow on the concrete.
Turning to Emmett, I lean in close and whisper, "I'll go in this way and try to find access to the root cellar. You go around front and create a distraction. Make some noise, bang on the door, break a window—whatever."
Emmett pulls a ski mask over his face. "This should add a little intrigue for the camera." Despite his hulking size, he lopes into the night without making a sound.
Moving quickly across the patio, I try the back door, finding it locked. Luckily, I have the key Jimmy gave me, and I unlock it as quietly as possible. There's the slightest creak when I swing it open.
I ease the door shut behind me and walk through the narrow mudroom, hovering at the entrance to the large kitchen. The house is awash with darkness, the only glimmers of light coming from the moon shining between curtains that aren't completely drawn.
Closing my eyes, I listen to the sounds around me. A clock ticks off seconds. A branch scrapes across a windowpane every so often. I feel utterly alone, and I wonder if Bella is really here somewhere.
I contemplate where the entrance to the root cellar might be and recall a pantry off to the right of the kitchen, so I make my way across the room until I reach the doorway.
Flicking on a penlight, I shine the beam along the floor. There's an oval braided rug in the center of the pantry, and I tug at the edge. It's stuck to the linoleum, but it lifts enough to show an indentation in the floor. Turning off my light, I wedge my thumb in and pull up. The trap door opens silently, which makes me think it's regularly used or at least maintained.
Hovering over the rectangle of pure darkness for several seconds, I hear nothing and ease myself onto the stairs. I feel my way down until my feet touch solid ground and wait through several seconds of silence before flicking on the penlight. The beam reveals a typical root cellar: dirt floor, wooden shelves, garden tools, cobwebs, and a scarred wooden table. Because Bella specifically indicated the root cellar on the discarded receipt, I spend extra time shining the beam over the ceiling, floor, and walls, looking for a clue.
There are twin grooves in the dirt that line up with the table legs. When I crouch down to examine the floor, I realize the legs aren't fully resting on the ground. I tug on the edge in an attempt to pull it away from the wall, but it holds fast. I shine the light underneath and realize it's bolted to the wall. My heart speeds as I examine the wall for signs of a latch or hinges. After going over the area several times with no luck, I grit my teeth and shove at the table in frustration. With a faint motorized whir, the table pushes against my leg as it moves forward. Jumping out of the way, I watch as the wall opens, revealing a narrow exit from the root cellar.
I snap a picture and shoot a quick text to Emmett to let him know what I found just in case something goes wrong. I slip into the darkness, shielding the beam of my penlight. The vinyl floor of the square, unfurnished entryway has a fine coating of dirt from the root cellar. Across from me, is a door with a keypad; weak light comes from underneath. As it happens, the door isn't closed all the way, and I slip inside, dropping into a crouch. This area turns out to be a long, narrow hallway with dim, recessed lighting. A soft whoosh of air comes through a vent set in the wall. I shut off the penlight and stow it away.
Gripping my taser, I move forward slowly, scanning for cameras. I spot a dark glass dome mounted to the ceiling. Knowing this area is likely monitored, I hurry along the hall. I pass an empty alcove and two locked doors before reaching an opening at the end.
As I cross the threshold, the atmosphere changes. There's a low hum, but that's not the cause of the shift. I sense a presence, and I'm suddenly certain it's Phoenix. A prickle of fear travels up the back of my neck, and I look around the large room. It's a dungeon. There are strange looking tables, tracks along the ceiling, a wooden cross against one wall, whips, canes, restraints.
Movement to my left draws my attention as a figure emerges from a billow of black curtains. He's tall and muscled, legs encased in black leather. Thick black straps dotted with silver studs crisscross his torso, and his face is covered by a leather mask. He tilts his head to the side, taking my measure. This posture reminds me of a predator assessing its prey.
"Edward Cullen." He draws out my name, his voice low and confident.
I stare at him without answering. My mouth has gone dry, and I feel weak and uncomfortable. Phoenix exudes a commanding presence; I understand why Bella finds him intimidating.
Thoughts of Bella and the many ways this bastard has tortured her prompt me to speak. "Where is she?"
Phoenix stiffens slightly. "Where she belongs."
"If she were where she belongs, then I wouldn't be here asking." My voice comes out with a strength I don't feel, and this emboldens me to take a step toward him. I make a quick sweep of the room, but aside from the way I entered, the curtains seem to be the only other exit.
Phoenix paces back and forth slowly for several long seconds before stopping short. "You've been around for . . . what . . . a few months? Yet you presume to know where Isabella belongs?"
"Jimmy put me in charge of Bella."
Phoenix laughs, shaking his head. "Fucking Jimmy. Interfering, do-good Jimmy. He can't just die with dignity—he feels the need to fuck with me first."
"You know he's sick?" I ask, surprised.
"I'm curious, Edward. What did Jimmy tell you about his illness?"
Phoenix obviously knows Jimmy is ill, so I see no reason not to answer him. "That it's cancer, and he's tried different treatments with no success." I swallow hard; talking about Jimmy's demise out loud feels like a gut punch. Even though I've been pissed off at him a lot the past few months, he's been a good friend and business partner over the years, and I realize there are reasons for all the shit he put me through.
"Cancer! Is that what he told you?" He spits the words out with disgust. He cracks his knuckles before balling both hands into fists.
"You seem angry."
"Well, if you had to fight your way through roadblocks and brambles to get back what's yours, you'd be pissed off too."
"Bella isn't yours. You speak of her as if she's property, not a beautiful woman with dreams of her own."
"Enough!" Phoenix snarls and bangs his fist against a table. "I've wasted enough time indulging everyone's foolery. Jimmy will be gone soon enough. You should run along and put your life back together. Isabella belongs with me."
"The fuck she does." My fingers clench the taser in my pocket.
Before I can pull it out, the lights flicker and turn off. The room is bathed with red light, making everything appear more surreal.
Phoenix curses and pulls his phone out, glaring at the screen. "Who's the asshole in the ski mask that just bashed in the living room window?"
Relief floods through me, and I almost laugh. "He's not alone."
Phoenix goes still for several seconds. "Liar." He taps on the phone screen a few times. "There. He'll never be able to get in now."
The lights flicker to life, and a whirring sound starts up in the distance.
"What did you do?"
"I put ten inches of reinforced steel between us and your friend." A slow, predatory smile stretches the leather mask into a creepy sneer.
"Take off the mask. Face me like a man." Not being able to see who I'm talking to is starting to get to me.
Phoenix laughs, low and mocking. "You don't want to see what's under here."
Bella told me Phoenix is handsome and powerful. Maybe he doesn't want to show me his face so I can't identify him.
"Yeah, I do."
"Okay, then." Phoenix peels the mask back slowly, revealing the face beneath.
My legs go weak, and I fall to my knees.
~*oOo*~
A/N: We've met Phoenix. Next chapter his identity will be revealed. Last chance to drop your theories! I'm well into the next chapter, so I'm hoping to update soon. I've also started on the next chapter of Princess.
I post teasers and links to updates on Facebook in the No Rules Twilight Fan Fiction, The Twilight Fanfiction Finders, and It All Started With Twilight groups.
Thanks and gratefulness as always to my awesome betas, SassySue (chayasara) and Wendy (wmr1601) and prereader extraordinaire Aleea (Aleeab4u). These ladies make my stuff much more presentable! (Translation: save me from sounding like a blathering fool)