1
"The National Weather Service has issued a severe winter weather warning for Rolette County until Monday morning at eight a.m."
"A little late, don't you think?"
There was already almost a foot of snow on the ground, so yeah, they were a little late to issue said winter weather warning. Bella Swan rolled her eyes as she reached over and switched off the radio before setting her windshield wipers on high. Turning onto Pine Street, she pulled into a parking lot of Family Fare, a local chain of grocery stores in North Dakota.
She grabbed her phone off the charger and headed inside, bypassing a young mom with two little boys as they rushed out of the store, their arms filled with grocery bags. She grabbed a cart and started her journey through the crowded market, adding everything she would need for the next several days. Eggs, milk, extra water, bread, etc. It wasn't her first winter storm, but it would be her first winter storm in North Dakota.
"Oh, hey, Bella."
Groaning under her breath, she put on her fakest smile before she turned and found Jessica Stanley standing a few feet behind her. The short, curly-haired woman had been a thorn in her side since she moved to Belcourt a year ago. She was the real estate agent who sold Bella her small ranch just outside town. Ever since then, Jessica had made it a habit to stop by and visit every few days for almost a month until Bella not so subtly told her that if she came back, she would shove her foot up her ass. Bella hadn't moved to Belcourt to make friends. But even after that encounter, every time Jessica saw her in town, which wasn't often, she made a point of talking to her.
"Jessica."
"Crazy weather, right?"
Bella nodded.
"Just grabbing some extra water," she added, gesturing to her shopping cart, where five cases of water had been loaded. "Did you need another one? I can share."
"No, I should be okay with just the one. You know, don't want to take more than I need," Bella hinted, gesturing to the people hurrying in to gather their own supplies. "Anyway, I'd better go before the roads get too bad."
"Oh, yeah, of course." Jessica opened her mouth but then closed it before she turned and took two steps away, stopped, looked back at her, and said, "You could come to my house if you want. We could wait the storm out . . . together."
Bella swallowed the bile that crept up her throat as she shook her head. "I think I'll be okay on my own, but thanks, I guess."
"Oh, okay, well, you know where I live if you change your mind."
Bella simply nodded and stared at her until she took the hint and hurried away. Resisting the urge to roll her eyes again, she turned and finished her shopping. Once she had paid for all her groceries, she loaded them into the black metal toolbox on the back of her truck and climbed in behind the wheel. After stopping to fill her vehicle with gas, along with a couple of extra cans just in case, she finally pulled out onto Highway 281 out of Belcourt.
She tapped her fingers on the steering wheel, humming under her breath as she drove. As she came to a curve in the road, she pressed her foot slowly onto the brake, knowing better than to take it too fast. It was a tricky curve even when the ground wasn't covered in snow. As she came out of the tail end of the turn, she cursed and slammed her foot on the brake when she saw the taillights of a dark sedan angled toward the side of the road, the front end even with a tree.
Pulling over, she turned her hazard lights on before grabbing her wool gloves and hat from the passenger seat and climbing out, biting back the string of curse words that rushed to the tip of her tongue. She had hoped to be home long before the storm set in, but her errands had taken her longer than expected, and she was a solid hour later than she had planned.
Bella tightened her jacket around her as she walked to the black car and looked inside. One of the tires had blown, and the other three were buried about a foot into the snow and dirt. The front end of the car was pushed upward, the hood bent in the middle, angled in a triangle. There was smoke coming from under the hood, and she could see transmission fluid dripping from underneath. She used her gloved hand to wipe away the snow on the side window, finding a young man with auburn hair slumped over the steering wheel, his head facing the window. There was blood streaming from a cut on his forehead. He had a black jacket on over what looked to be a white button-down shirt, she could see the collar poking up his neck.
Bella pulled her phone from her back pocket, peeling the gloves off her hand just enough to be able to call for help, but when her nine-one-one call didn't ring, instead she heard three long beeps and then the call dropped entirely, she stowed her phone. The last thing she wanted was to take this stranger to her home, but she couldn't very well leave him to die, either. Wind chills alone would kill him, and she couldn't have that on her conscience. She lived with enough guilt, she thought.
She looked around again before she grabbed the handle of the door and gave it a hard tug. It immediately flew open, and the man fell to the side. She barely managed to catch him before he slid out of the car entirely, hitting the ground, his head bobbing backward.
"Just fucking great," she muttered to herself as she stood.
She tugged her gloves off and shoved them into the pocket of her coat before she knelt and hooked her arms under his, pulling him so he was sitting upward. She took a deep breath as she stood, gingerly dragging him over to her truck when she somehow was able to hoist him into the backseat.
She used the back of her hand to brush away the snow that lingered on her forehead as she closed the back door of her truck and looked down the road. The snow had picked up dramatically, and she knew the ones behind her weren't clear enough to drive on. Bella hurried back to his car and turned it off, yanking the key out of the ignition. She opened the glove box, looking for any kind of identification, but all she saw was a rental agreement from an agency in Minot under the name Edward Masen. At least the mystery man had a name, she thought, shoving the papers into the pocket of her jacket before she reached into the back and grabbed his bag.
She had reached for his cell phone, which had been pushed up under the gas pedal. The screen had been shattered, and she wondered if he'd stomped on it when trying to keep from hitting the tree. She had just shoved it into her coat pocket when her attention was drawn to a small, rectangular card halfway hidden under the floor mat. Reaching down, she picked it up and saw her address hand written on the back. When she turned it back over, she shook her head as she read the name engraved in thick, heavy black lettering.
"That son-of-a-bitch."
Once the car was locked, she returned to her truck and drove toward her house. Less than a mile later, she turned into the private driveway hidden by a line of trees and down another quarter mile before parking inside the garage.
It took a lot of effort, but Bella managed to get the man out of her truck and into her house, through the kitchen, and onto the bed in her guest room. She took off his shoes, coat, and black suit jacket before digging his wallet out of his pocket. She gave him a quick examination to ensure there wasn't more damage than the bump on his head.
She wasn't an expert by any means, but she didn't see any broken bones, at least. Until he woke up, there wasn't much else she could do. The roads were too slick, the snow had started falling heavier, and the winds had picked up. They were stuck until the storm cleared, and that made her nervous. Bella Swan didn't like strangers inside her house.
—^—
Bella tossed his phone and wallet on the kitchen counter before she hurried out to the garage to retrieve her supplies from the back of her truck. Once she had stowed away her groceries and started her kettle, desperately needing a cup of tea to warm up, she added some logs to her fireplace and started a fire. As she stood, her eyes landed on the picture on the mantel, and she reached for it, gazing down at it with tears in her eyes.
He'd been gone a year, she thought. Actually, it had been three hundred and sixty-eight days since he had been taken; killed because of her — because she hadn't done her job. Bella wiped the tears off her cheeks before she placed the picture back on the mantel and hurried into the kitchen, grabbing her favorite coffee cup out of the cabinet. She put a green tea bag in, but while she waited for the water to boil, she shifted her eyes to the counter where the man's wallet and phone sat.
Biting the inside of her lip, she walked over and picked up his wallet. Her eyes flickered toward the guest room before she flipped it open, and when she looked down, she cursed, "Of fucking course," before slamming it back onto the counter and hurrying down the hallway to her bedroom.
She opened the closet door and reached onto the shelf over the clothing bar as her fingers wrapped around the black phone she kept hidden there. She pulled it out and walked back into the kitchen, plugging it in. The kettle started whistling, so she turned the burner off and poured the boiling water over her tea bag before placing it back. She picked up the string and dipped it several times before putting it on a paper towel. Picking up her cup, she cradled it against her chest and turned to stare at the phone — the one she hadn't touched in three hundred and fifty-three days, not since she sent that single text.
"Don't look for me."
She then powered the phone down, shoved it into her luggage, and walked away from her life. Correction: she walked away from the job that took her life away.
Her eyes closed for a moment before she walked over and picked it up, pressing the power button with her thumb and waiting for it to turn on. It took almost a minute, but once it did, her screen was filled with dozens of text messages, missed calls, and voicemail alerts.
She deleted each and every one of them before she found herself staring at his number.
His name.
It hadn't taken him long to find her. He begged her to come back, begged her not to give up, to fight. To fucking fight, but she said no. She said it over and over again, and for six months, she thought he had let her go. Clearly, the man lying on her guest bed said otherwise.
Bella took a sip of her tea before using her thumb to press the call option and bringing the phone to her ear.
Barely one ring in, she heard a click followed by a breathy "Hey."
"I told you no."
He scoffed.
"I told you no."
"You can't just hide."
"I'm not hiding. I told you I was done. I told you I quit. I told you not to bother me ever again."
He sighed but didn't say anything.
"He crashed his car."
"Who?"
This time, Bella scoffed. "Your errand boy."
"Shit," he swore. "Is he okay?"
"Seems to be. Hasn't woken up yet."
"Look, I wouldn't have sent him if I didn't need you."
She shook her head, slid to the floor, and pulled her knees to her chest. "I just can't do it again. I can't. Not after . . ."
"He wouldn't want you to wallow like this, Bella. You know he wouldn't."
And she did, but that didn't make it any easier.
"I wasn't going to tell you this until Masen brought you in, but he's active again."
"How do you know?"
"Three bodies."
"Let me guess: all my age, my size, same color hair and eyes."
He didn't reply.
"And what? You think that just because he might be active again, I'm going to come running back to finally stop him once and for all."
"Yep."
"You know me better than I thought you did."
"I should, seeing as I'm your father."
Bella snorted. "So you're going to play that card, are you?"
"Yep."
"She would tell me to stay away."
"You let me handle her."
Bella groaned.
"I miss you, Bee. She misses you. Hell, the whole damn team misses you."
"I miss y'all, too, but . . . I don't know that I can come back."
"Look, just . . . just bring Masen back, and if you don't feel like you can stay, I won't stop you."
Bella placed her arm on her knee. "I have your word on that?"
"You do."
"And you won't let Mom guilt me out of leaving again, right?"
He laughed. "I know better than to make that promise, but I will try to keep her from using her God-given motherly guilt on you. But your mother is . . . spunky."
Bella laughed. "Is that the word we're using now?"
"Better than bat-shit crazy." He paused.
"It wasn't your fault, Bee. You know that, don't you?"
"It will be a few days before we can head that way. Masen's phone died in the accident, so he won't be able to contact you until it charges. I'll let you know when we're en route. Don't call, don't text, don't tell her."
And without giving him the chance to tell her again how her husband's murder wasn't her fault, Bella ended the call and reached up, placing her phone on the counter. She hugged her cup of tea against her chest, letting her tears fall once more.
Thank you for reading the first chapter of my NEW STORY! This one will be posting every Monday. Big shout out to Sunflower Fran for making my mess somewhat readable.