Showing posts with label Chapter Two. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Chapter Two. Show all posts

Tuesday, January 19, 2010

FK - Chapter Two: First Impressions with Jasper Whitlock

Chapter 2: First Impressions with Jasper Whitlock


Two months had passed since I'd seen or heard from Edward. Two months that I actually internally pined for someone I really didn't know, and that made me feel fucking pathetic. I knew what it was supposed to be inside my mind, just a one-night stand, but my heart refused to let go of the fact that it was more than that.
It was now the end of October, and the autumn leaves were scattered among yards and streets, painting a picturesque scenic view, but the cold of winter was settling in early. It was kind of like the unwanted emptiness that creeps in after your happiness has been taken away. It seemed fall was just as empty as I was.
Life remained the same for the most part; dull and dreary. I hated my job just as much, maybe more, than I had those two months ago, but I was different - that one night changed me. I had experienced a connection unlike anything I'd ever experienced before, so I knew the possibility of sharing that with someone did exist, but my opportunity seemed to be long over, and I had no one to blame but myself.
I thought about him often. I wondering where he was, what he was doing, if he was okay and mostly just wondering if he was happy. I kept my distance from the magazines or searching him out on the internet, because I'm sure I could find something on him. I wanted him to be happy, but I wasn't sure I wouldn't feel some kind of jealousy or hurt if I knew he was with someone. I just clung to the idea of him taking that sabbatical he needed, and he was somewhere where he felt at peace.
One evening, while shopping, I let the curiosity in me win over, and I peeked at one of the many magazines that no doubt preyed on his life. Filming for Lost and Found Again, his film debut, was going to be ending soon, and he was supposed to be taking a couple months down time after. I only knew this because the cover stated so. I couldn't bring myself to open the magazine for fear of being sucked in, and I was not going to become one of those women that became addicted to knowing every move he made, and I certainly didn't want a reason to miss his touch more than I already did.
I sat at my desk, trying to manage all the endless piles of shit Mr. Volturi had assigned me to while Jess enjoyed lunch. It was originally supposed to be a fairly simple day because our company party was tonight, but today was no exception… at least for me. The company party was rescheduled, so here I sat sifting through the copious amounts of papers I'd researched for one of our cases, because no party meant work, work, work.
I was so engrossed in my own thoughts that I hadn't realized Satan, as I liked to refer to my boss, was standing before me with incessant drivel coming from his mouth. "Isabella, I don't pay you to sit there in LaLa land. I pay you to do the work that I require you to do. When I am speaking to you, I expect that you listen to me."
My eyes snapped up to his face, and I hadn't really realized until that moment that he did in fact have a melon head like Jess suggested. "I'm sorry, it won't happen again."
He huffed. "You're right about that. I want that file within the hour."
He turned away from me, heading back toward his office. I immediately stood up, paper weight in hand, ready to just knock his ass out to put him out of my own fucking misery. Jess caught sight of me and shook her head vehemently. "Bella, he's just being himself. You know this. Don't let him get to you."
I sighed heavily. "You know, it's no wonder that man is single. Who could possibly live with him? You can't live with him, you can't work with him and you can't shoot him. It's illegal." Jess chuckled under her breath. "It's like his sole purpose in being born was to be a thorn in my ass. I must have really done something shitty in one of my past lives because I really believe this is hell."
Jess shook her head, laughing. "It seems to me like you need a night out. You don't do anything, but go home to your apartment anymore, Bella. I'm going to Jamison's tonight to see Breaking Twilight. They're a fairly new band but well known, sort of punk, and really good. Come with me."
"Oh, Jess, I don't know," I said hesitantly. "I don't even really care for that kind of music. I mean, it's not that I don't appreciate that particular artistic style, but I'm not really into the whole punk genre, and that's where you just classified them."
"You don't have to enjoy their music, I'm just asking as a means for you to get out of that stuffy apartment and actually have some fun. It would do you a world of good," she said.
"I hear more chatting than I do working!" Mr. Volturi yelled from his office.
I leaned over my desk and whispered, "I guess I better get back to work because the dark overlord of hell has spoken."
She suppressed her laughter and whispered back, "So you'll come, right?"
Her eyes pleaded with me, and truthfully, I hadn't been out in a long time. I'd only be going home to an empty apartment, sitting there in front of my television. It's not like I had anything better to fucking do with my time, so I nodded my acceptance and continued back to my research in preparation for the Mallory trial that was set for the following week.
Seven o'clock rolled around, and I'd already showered and dressed for the evening. I decided on a semi-grunge look. I wore a slim, low-slung short blue jean mini skirt that had a frayed hem, a very form-fitting black rocker shirt, and a black pair of dressy strap sandals.
I'd just put the finishing touches to my make-up when Jess and Rosalie knocked at the door. I filed out of the bathroom quickly to let them in.
Rose came in first, wearing a red dress mini that was practically painted on. She headed straight for my kitchen, opening up a cupboard. "What, no bon bons?" she asked.
"Good to see you too, Rose," I laughed.
Jess closed the door, chuckling. "Bella, you look great. I love the outfit, and it's about time I see you with your hair down. If I had long, naturally curly hair like yours, I'd leave it down more often."
She had obviously decided on a more chic look because she was wearing a lavender haltered mini. "Yeah, the waves can be a bitch to manage sometimes, but I was going for the grunge look, so it worked. I love the dress, by the way."
She did a little twirl before she spoke. "I've got to look good if I plan to snag my future ex-boyfriend tonight. You ready to go?"
"What about me?" We both glanced at Rose, who was now pouting. She'd managed to find my bon bons, though.
"You know you're hot, bitch, so quit the pouting," I teased.
She flipped me off then blew me a kiss.
I shook my head and laughed at her, then glanced back at Jess. "Yeah, I'm ready."


When we arrived at Jamison's, the band was set to play in forty minutes. I'd been to Jamison's a few times, and they were probably the best place to see some very talented up and coming bands before they hit the mainstream. I loved that about the place. They gave newcomers a chance to show their talent.
Jess, Rose and I shimmied our way through the crowd of people who had collected near the stage to find a seat at the bar. Luckily, there were three left and they were situated pretty damn close to the stage.
"Oh God," Jess squealed. "There's Jasper Whitlock. He's Breaking Twilight's lead singer."
"He's completely gorgeous is what he is," Rose added.
"That he is," Jess agreed.
I took a nice long look, watching the way he was setting up band equipment. He was definitely easy on the eyes.
Rose leaned in near my ear because we couldn't hear each other over the noise of the crowd. "What are you drinking? First round is on me."
I reciprocated her action and said, "Get me an Ice Bomb. I'm going to go to the ladies room. I'll be right back."
She nodded just as I got up from my seat. I asked Jess if she wanted to tag along, but she shook her head, already in a conversation with the male bartender.
I made my way to the ladies room, standing in the line for about fifteen minutes before it was my turn, and I just happened to be the last one in line. I finished up and washed my hands before heading to the door to go back to my seat at the bar, but when I turned the handle, the door was stuck.
"What the fuck!" I growled.
I was yanking on the door, twisting and turning the handle, but nothing was working. I noticed it stuck for the other girls, but I just assumed it would actually open for me like it had them. I was wrong.
I began to beat on the door and yell for someone, anyone to get me the fuck out of the bathroom. Of course, while being stuck in the bathroom, no one else needed in there. It was just my luck.
It was about ten minutes later when I saw the door handle jiggle from someone grasping it on the other side, then heard a male voice yell, "Hold on, it's stuck, but I'll help you out!"
"Thank you!" I yelled back. "I've been in this fucking bathroom waiting for at least ten minutes."
I could hear him laughing through the door.
Oh, yeah, this shit was really funny. He certainly wouldn't like it if he was the one stuck in here.
There was some shuffling against the door, and I assumed he was bracing his body against it. "Alright, I want you to pull from your end while I push. If we work together, then we should be able to open the door."
"Okay," I told him.
I grabbed the handle tightly and began pulling hard against the door. It started to loosen because the door was slowly opening with the force of his pushing against it and my pulling it. "It's working. A little more and I think we'll have it."
"Step off to the side," he hollered. "I think we have it loosened enough so that if I give it one good shove, it'll open."
I moved slightly off to the side and said, "Okay, I've moved."
Within seconds of my moving, I heard his body slam against the door, opening it with quite a force, but I didn't really have time to acknowledge the fact that the door was open before something cold and wet covered the upper part of my body.
I looked down toward my chest, seeing beads of liquid dripping from my shirt. My mouth dropped open. Not only had I had a shitty day at work, which was a usual, but I'd been locked in a damn bathroom for ten minutes, and the one person who decides to try to help me finishes off my fucking night by spilling his drink all over my chest.
"What the fu-" I started to say as I looked up. I immediately paused when my eyes fell on the person who had not only rescued me from an eternity in the shitter, but had also inducted me into the alcoholic version of a wet t-shirt contest. It was none other than Jasper Whitlock.
His eyes shifted from his near empty drink to my chest, then right up to my face, appearing completely mortified. "Shit, I… I'm so sorry."
My first thought was that most people put their drinks down when they run full speed at a closed door – I'm just saying - but it was obvious he felt like total shit, and thankfully, I wasn't wearing white, so I decided to say something to help lighten the situation. He did help me when he didn't have to.
I pushed through the embarrassment and smiled, teasingly saying, "Well, if you wanted to get me wet, you didn't have to spill your drink on me to do it."
He was wide-eyed momentarily, and then he literally burst into laughter, causing his words to come out in gasps. "I can't believe... I did that... but you're... you're very funny."
I chuckled as I watched him retreat into calm. "Well, it's not every day a girl can say that she got wet by Jasper Whitlock and not mean it the way it sounds. This would be, of course, after he rescued her from the evil bathroom that threatened to keep her locked away from the rest of the world."
"You have an interesting way with words, and your perception on situations is comical. You should do stand-up. I'm sure you'd make quite a killing," he teased.
"Says the man who likes to initiate women's chests with his drink," I teased back. "I'll leave the stage performing to you because it wasn't in the cards for me. I'm more of an observer now."
"That's too bad," he said, those words leaving an ache in my chest, reminding me of him. "And I realized how rude I am, well, besides throwing my drink on you. I never did tell you my name."
"I guess you initiating my chest with alcohol would require name exchanges."
He grinned. "I'm Jasper."
"And I'm Bella," I answered back, sticking my hand out to shake his. He shook my hand, laughing.
After he pulled his hand away, he glanced down at his watch. "Shit, I really have to go, but maybe I could buy you a drink afterward to apologize. I don't normally do that, but it's the least I can do. You'll be fine, right?" He pointed to my shirt as he asked.
I looked down to wear he'd pointed. "Oh, yeah, this is nothing. It's a little damp, and I smell like I bathed in a vat of alcohol, but it'll be fine. However, if anyone tries to drink me, I'm suing you."
He snickered. "I suppose I should have my lawyer on standby then, just in case." He glanced out the door toward the stage. "I really need to get my ass out there. I'll see you around, okay? Enjoy the show."
I propped the door open with the garbage pail, then headed over to the sink to try to blot out some of the alcohol so my shirt didn't appear too wet. The entire time l was doing so, I was laughing to myself. It was pretty much a wasted effort, but I managed to soak up some of the liquid on the paper towels.
As I was leaving, two women passed me into the bathroom, so I addressed them about the door. "Hey, I had a run-in with the door about fifteen minutes ago. I was stuck in here, so I'm not sure that you'd want to close it. I just thought I'd let you know."
"Oh, thanks," they both said in unison.
I made my way back to the bar, ready to bitch at Rose and Jess for not even bothering to look for me, when I noticed Rose was engaged in a nice game of tonsil hockey with bartender Emmett, who just happened to conveniently be here, and Jess was speaking to a gentleman seated in the seat that had been mine.
"Hey," Jess smiled. "You were gone for awhile so Eric was keeping your seat warm. Bella, this is Eric." I glanced briefly at him, smiling, then turned back to Jess. "We've been having an interesting conversation. By the way, what took you so long, and what happened to your shirt? It's really wet. Shit, Bella, you smell like you just doused yourself in liquor."
"Nothing at all, Jess," I replied sarcastically. "You should see what they have going on in those bathrooms. In one corner, they have 'meet a friend'. It's quite educational once you get past the broken door, and if you move to the other side, you can enter the wet t-shirt contest hosted by Jasper Whitlock. Only, they don't use water, they use alcohol. It's like protein for the skin. Who would have ever thought? You know me, I couldn't just stop at one, so I went for the whole shebang."
Her eyes nearly bugged out of her head, Eric became speechless, but Rose, on the other hand, was still eating Emmett's throat. "What? Are you serious? Since when do they do shit like that here?"
"Jess, I was being sarcastic," I told her. "The bathroom door was jammed, so I couldn't get out. I started yelling for someone to help, and someone definitely showed up. It happened to be Jasper Whitlock." I pointed toward the stage. "He opened the door, but managed to spill his drink on me in the process."
Her jaw nearly dropped to the floor. "Bella, did you just say that Jasper Whitlock helped you out of the ladies room and spilled his drink on you?"
I put my right finger against my temple, pretending to be in deep thought, then rolled my eyes at her. "Yeah, that's what I said."
"Do you realize you're wearing Jasper Whitlock's alcohol? How cool is that?" she squealed.
"Jess, I'm pretty sure it was Jamison's alcohol; Jasper was just drinking it. Besides, he seems pretty down to earth to me, so I don't think there's anything to get overly excited about," I answered back.
She almost appeared as if she'd combust with excitement… and possibly shock. "Wait, you talked to him?"
"Hold that thought," I told her. I leaned forward, tapping Rose on the shoulder, and said, "Come up for air before you choke on his esophagus." She, of course, did not.
I turned back toward Jess in time to see Eric getting up, already moving on to someone else because he was no longer the bane of Jess's attention. So I once again sat in the seat that had been mine, the one he had temporarily confiscated, and said, "Yes, I talked to him because he helped me. And since he spilt his drink on me, he offered to buy me a drink after the show to apologize."
"You accepted, right?" she asked.
"Well, I didn't exactly answer him. He didn't give me much of an opportunity," I explained. "He glanced at his watch and said he had to go. He told me he'd see me around and to enjoy the show."
"You're taking him up on that drink, even if I have to force you," she threatened.
I shrugged. "I don't know, Jess. I'm not sure if I'm ready to-"
Rose took a breather long enough to say, "You're definitely ready." before she was back to sucking Emmett's face off. Poor guy never had a chance, not that he really seemed as if he were complaining about that fact.
"She's right," Jess whispered, taking my hand. "It was just one night and-"
My chest constricted, so I looked over her shoulder for some kind of a distraction, because we'd been down this road before, and I wasn't in the mood for this conversation again. Luckily, the band was on stage and Jasper began giving an introduction in the mic.
"Look." I pointed behind her. "The band is starting. We'll talk about this later."
I did not, however, have the intention of discussing the conversation later.
They started off with something I obviously hadn't heard yet, but ended up really liking. It wasn't until halfway through the song that he spotted me. His eyes locked with mine, and he gave me a big smile as he continued to sing.
I smiled back, and it did not go unnoticed by Jess or the little dark haired girl beside Jasper, playing guitar. She did not appear to be happy with the exchange between us.
"Bella, he's eye fucking you right now."
"He was not," I scoffed.
Her eyebrows lifted and her face became very serious. "He was too."
"He wasn't," I added quickly, then changed the subject. "Who's the dark haired girl?"
"Oh, that's Alice Brandon. She's backup vocals and plays bass."
I took a drink of my Ice bomb. "I don't think she likes me."
"It's no secret she has a crush on Jasper," she laughed. "You can tell by the way she looks at him, or the way she constantly praises him. Plus, it was pretty obvious the eye sexing you two had going on."
I chose to ignore her by facing Rose, asking if she and Emmett were actually going to watch the band they paid to see, but she waved me off. I focused my attention on the concert, but I noticed that Jasper's eyes were indeed on me the majority of the time. It was almost as if we were the only two people in the room and he was singing directly to me.
After each song finished, I watched Jasper throw back a drink or two, and then commence with another song. It hadn't slipped my notice that he was becoming a bit looser as the evening progressed. Nor did it escape my notice that I wasn't getting the sweet smiles anymore. The glances I was now receiving weren't light and carefree, they were much darker, hungrier, and they were actually weighing on me.
There was something in the way he looked at me that made me uncomfortable, yet jumpstarted my heart at the same time. I wasn't sure if having a drink with him was a good idea because of it.
He took a brief break, heading in the back with the band, so I sat there, consuming drinks, trying to calm my nerves. If I were to leave and not accept the drink he offered, I'd be rude because of it. Though he'd spilled his drink on me, it was not done intentionally, and he was merely trying to be polite offering. But I felt like I was betraying…
What was my fucking problem, anyway? It's not like I had a boyfriend or significant other to go home to. It was one fucking drink, not a marriage proposal.
When they came from break, he searched me out again. I saw Alice watching him, her little body visibly tense. She didn't look at me, though. She took her place, getting ready to begin playing again.
By the time the concert was over, Jess had convinced me to at least have one drink with him. She told me there were no strings attached to that one drink, so I agreed to stay, knowing she was right.
Rose and Emmett left, obviously to get their fuck on, leaving me and Jess talking. I was by no means drunk, but I was feeling pretty good.
"Did you enjoy the concert?"
I turned my head to the left to look at him, and Jess nearly dropped her drink the moment she heard his voice. "Yes, I thoroughly enjoyed it."
He smiled, nodding his head as he glanced at my shirt. I, however, mistook it for him looking at my boobs until he spoke. "How's the shirt?"
I chuckled, pulling at the hem, and said, "It's all healed. No more war wounds."
A wide smile instantly crept upon his face. He really was good looking, and I almost forgot why I considered having a drink with him wasn't such a good idea. "Good, glad to hear it. So, are you still interested in that drink?"
I nodded. "Yeah, I could use another."
Jess practically flew up off her barstool, obviously not wanting to be a third wheel. "Here, Jasper, take this seat. I was going to go mingle, anyway. It was an awesome show, and it was so good to meet you, even though we technically didn't meet. I'm Jess, by the way. You two kids enjoy each other."
I watched her practically run away. He stared after her, then faced me, staring at me curiously. I shrugged my shoulders and said, "That's due to an adverse effect of Trimspa. You get used to it."
He laughed. "So, Darlin', what are you having to drink? Remember, I'm buying."
I admit, he was definitely gorgeous, but when he said 'darlin' like that, I about came in my seat. "Surprise me."
He wiggled his eyebrows. "Okay, you asked for it."
I never did find out what he bought me to drink, but it was damn good. We talked for awhile about his music career and what being a legal secretary entailed, but it was when we broached the subject of his music career taking off more and whether he'd be interested in starring in a film one day that I felt a little gutted. I felt completely stupid for feeling that way, but it brought back memories of him.
"My career is what it is. I'm happy where I'm at. If it becomes more, that's great, but if it doesn't, I'm not going to fall apart over it. Making music was never about gaining status."
I couldn't get over how genuine he was. "I bet you get to meet all types of interesting people in your line of work."
"That's very true," he grinned. "Some are more interesting than I care to discuss. I know some celebrities, and I'm asked often who I know, all because I was photographed with one who happens to be a good friend. I choose not to answer, you know? What's personal is personal. I'm not going to bring down unwanted attention on them, or use the fact that I know them to benefit my career. I want to earn my way," he said.
"God, you're such a nice guy," I blurted out. No one said alcohol enhanced my intelligence.
He laughed. "Thanks."
The subject was effectively changed, thankfully, because I had no intention of asking him who he knew. He was right about keeping what was personal as personal. And it wasn't as if I expected him to know Edward, but I'm sure he'd heard of him. And if he did know Edward, what then? It would have been too awkward a conversation to discuss with Jasper, anyway.
Besides, what Edward and I had was a one-night stand. When I left that room, what we shared was left behind with it. As much as he plagued my waking thoughts and my dreams, I had to forget him. I had to let go of that one night.
In that moment, I decided to focus all of my attention on the man that was before me and enjoy the conversation we shared. When I pushed the thoughts of Edward aside, I realized that I had a general attraction to Jasper. He was polite in the southern boy kind of way, but underneath I could tell he was a bit of a handful.
We managed to talk all the way through last call. Throughout our conversation, a few people came over to interrupt us for pictures and autographs on napkins or pieces of paper they acquired from the bartender, but it was nothing too daunting. He wasn't affected by the attention like Edward was.
"Well, Jasper, I really had a great time," I told him as I stood from the barstool, reaching for my purse. "They're closing here in about ten minutes, and I should probably try to find Jess. She's my ride home."
"I need to round up the band, anyway. Who knows what they're off doing," he said, laughing. "Bella, I had a really great time. We started off kind of awkward, but this ended up being a really great time for me. I don't think I've ever come across anyone quite like you." He hesitated momentarily. "Would you mind if… I mean, would it be alright if I called you sometime?"
I could have told him no, which is exactly what a part of me was doing, all because if this feeling I had toward Edward that wouldn't go away. Instead, because I did enjoy talking with him, I reached into my purse, pulling out a piece of paper and pen, then jotting down my number. "I'd like that, Jasper. I work during the day, but I'm home pretty much every evening, so you can call anytime."
He took the paper from my hand, gazing over it, then stuffed it in his pocket. "I'll definitely give you a call."
"Sounds good."
He gave me a wave then veered off toward the back entrance of the stage to find his band mates. I proceeded through the crowd of people that were still near the bar to find Jess. I finally found her talking with some guy.
"You ready to go?" I asked.
She nodded, then handed what I assumed was her number to the guy before we started for the exit. "How'd everything go?"
I shrugged, smiling. "It was nice. He's a nice guy."
"Nice is good." We pushed through the doors, walking side by side in the parking lot toward her car.
"Nice is great," I replied back.
This had been one hell of a day and ended with handing my phone number over to Jasper Whitlock. I wasn't sure if it was going to be a good judgment call on my part, but I rather enjoyed his company, and personally, I was tired of being alone, and I was really tired of hanging onto a memory that was really nothing more than a memory. It had been two months, it was one night, he was gone, and I was going to move on.

Thursday, January 7, 2010

CF - Chapter Two: My Inner Cashier

"So, how was school?" Charlie asked the moment I opened the passenger door.

I scoffed, rolling my eyes. "Well, they're all… very welcoming."

"Did something happen?"

I shook my head. "It's fine. Just the norm." I quickly changed the subject. "Where's mom?"

Charlie knew when to let things lie. "Oh, she's at the store. I dropped her there this morning. She wanted to familiarize herself with the place and staff. You know, jump right on in."

Even after being together nearly twenty years, my parents were still so much in love. Charlie wasn't one to show emotion often, completely opposite my mother, but you knew when he loved you. You could see it written clearly upon his face.

I chuckled. "Yeah, that sounds like mom."

He glanced at me from the corner of his eye, half smile upon his lips. "You still interested in that car, because I think I may have found the perfect one?"


"Wow," I murmured. "It's so… red."

Charlie laughed. "She's a beauty, isn't she?"

Was he being sarcastic right now?

"How old is this thing, anyway?" I asked, mainly because I wasn't positive it had enough juice to leave Billy Black's front yard let alone get me back and forth to school.

"It's a 1953," Billy answered, quickly adding, "But she runs good. My son, Jake, is a master mechanic and he takes care of her himself. She's current on her tune-ups, so you won't need to worry about her falling apart any time soon."

You could tell the man was proud of his son's mechanical expertise. And what was it with guy's referring to their cars as he or she? I never understood it.

"I doubt that," I mumbled under my breath.

"What's that?" Charlie's eyes narrowed as he looked at me, waiting for my response.

"Uh, I said that's great." I had to turn away, lest he see the lie upon my face in the form of a traitorous blush. Damn traitorous, blush inducing adenylyl cyclase.

He either chose to ignore my under breath burst, because it wasn't an outburst, or he believed me. Either way, his attention was on discussing the red bomb we were standing next to.

"So how much?"

"I was asking fifteen."

"For this?" I blurted out before thinking.

Charlie frowned at me before looking back at Billy again. "You willing to go lower than that? She isn't exactly in her prime."

"No, but she's a classic," Billy clarified. "Well, what's your offer?"

"Seven."

Billy shook his head. "That's less than half of what I'm asking."

"Alright, eight then."

"Eight-fifty and you have yourself a deal."

"You drive a hard bargain, but we'll take it."

I was now the proud owner of a 1953 red Chevy bomb.


As we pulled into the store parking lot, I in my parent's car and my dad in my not so new truck, I noticed the place was thriving for such a small town. It was a good thing, though. That's what I kept telling myself. Good business meant a better income, and that meant less debt for my parents.

Charlie met me at the driver's side door of his car. "I think we should go ahead and do an oil change, maybe get some new tires before you start driving it regularly."

"Okay." was all I said.

I wasn't sure what I expected when I walked inside, maybe just a grocery store, but it kind of reminded me of a smaller version of Target or Walmart. As soon as you entered the electric doors, carts were lined up against a divider in three aisles to the right of where you walked. After you rounded the carts, straight ahead to the left were five checking lanes, all but one equipped with a cashier. And to the left of the lanes was a small stairwell that sat nestled against and led up to a mostly glass covered room that looked out upon the store. If I had to guess, I would say it's where the manager spent most of his/her day.

Directly behind me was the Customer Support counter. Two girls were standing awkwardly against the counter, chatting as they waited for customers. I briefly scanned the aisles, finding one half was the food section and the other held a miniscule portion of clothing, essentials and a few electronics. It certainly wasn't grand, but there was enough there to get people by in a pinch. And as far as food, there wasn't anything you needed that wasn't here because that was what the majority of the store contained.

"Not so bad, heh?" Charlie said, coming up behind me. "It's not very big, but it does get plenty of business. Before Bart had this place built, there was only one small grocery store here."

I shrugged. "Yeah, it's not so bad. Is mom up there?" I pointed toward the glass encased room.

"Probably."

We started for the room and had just made it to the steps when Renee started down them. "Hey, you two."

"How's things going here?" Charlie asked, looking around.

"Good," she smiled. "We had one cashier quit yesterday, so I need to fill that position right away, but things are good."

"You got one right here." I spun around to face my dad, wondering who he was talking about. It was obviously me because that's where his eyes were focused.

"Why me?"

"Did you or did you not say before we moved that you wanted a job?"

"Uh… yeah."

"Exactly. This place needs a cashier and you need a job."

"Yeah, but when I said I needed a job, I meant getting paid to do it."

"And who says you wouldn't get paid?" Renee questioned.

"I just thought that-"

"You'd be paid just like all the other employees are," Charlie explained. "It'll help teach you responsibility." I scoffed at this comment because I was probably the most responsible seventeen year old I knew. "Don't give me attitude, Bella."

"I wasn't," I responded defensively. "But you act as if I'm not responsible."

"I was meaning financially," he clarified. "You don't have that experience, and working will help you learn financial responsibility because you'll be responsible for maintaining half of your vehicle cost and the gas you use."

"There goes my entire paycheck," I teased.

Charlie shook his head, glaring at me. "Not funny."

Renee seized the moment to interrupt, mostly to calm the situation before it escalated. "Did you end up finding a vehicle for Bella?"

Charlie smiled proudly. "I did. The man asked for fifteen hundred, but I suckered him down to eight-fifty."

I laughed at this. There was some suckering alright, and Charlie was not the one doing it.

Charlie's expression turned perplexed. "What's so funny?"

I chuckled, patting him on the back. "Nothing, Dad."

He shook his head, then asked Renee if she wanted to see the truck. She accepted, and when I made no move to follow, they asked if I was tagging along. I declined, saying I wanted to familiarize myself with my new place of employment. They accepted, and I began my venture through the store.

I walked the main aisle, scanning the others as I moved. I noticed midway through the building a metal door at the back wall. I figured now that I was an employee and the place was owned by my parents, I was free to go back there.

And so I did.

I pushed through the door, entering what looked like a mini warehouse. The floors were cemented and there were quite a few shelves lined with items that were inside the store. A box compactor sat to the right of the doorway, but there wasn't much else on that side, so I turned to the left, passing more shelves and boxes that littered the ground in front of them. It wasn't exactly messy, but you could tell a delivery had been made today.

At the end of the walkway was a small hallway to the right. But just before you reached the hallway, you came upon the time clock – which was stationed right beside the break room.

I was curious as to what was down the hallway, so I continued on. There were two doors on either side, one being a utility closet and the other an employee restroom.

I was just turning around, getting ready to make my way out of the backroom and back into the store when I heard a female whimper coming from the utility closet. I halted my stepping, unsure if I'd actually heard the noise or not. But more importantly, I was curious as to why the hell someone would be inside a utility closet crying. It made more sense to do that shit in the bathroom, but whatever.

A couple minutes later and when I was to the point I thought I imagined the sound, I heard it again. Now I had to make a choice. Do I open that door and see who was inside, or do I pretend I didn't hear them? I had no idea why they'd be in there or what their reaction would be if I barged in on them. But finally, when I heard the sound for a third time, I decided to see if they needed help or something.

I reached the handle, turning it gently because I didn't want to startle the person. It gave way easily, and I pulled the door open. The moment I looked inside, I wanted to take back the notion of even considering looking inside.

At first I was paralyzed, other than my mouth hanging open and my eyes bugging out of my head. But when the heat of embarrassment/mortification rushed my body, it was enough to jar me into mobility. "What the… what the-" I couldn't even finish the words I was so shocked and repulsed.

What I'd heard had not been whimpering, it had been moaning. There inside that closet was none other than the boy from my Biology class and a strawberry blonde kneeled before him, giving him a blowjob. His hands were gripping her hair, but they pulled tighter the moment his eyes met mine. And the lust that overcast his eyes morphed to anger.

I quickly slammed the door, not even sure what to do next. I stood there a few seconds, blinking perpetually, trying to rationalize what I just saw. What the hell? I was shocked, yes. I mean, who does that sort of thing in the utility closet of a store… my parent's store? I had to tell Renee and Charlie.

I forced myself to move, nearly tripping over my feet as my stepping progressed. I'd just rounded the corner, heading back toward the door leading into the store, when I felt a hand grasp my upper arm roughly, yanking me back, then spinning me around. I found myself looking into those green eyes again, seeing so much anger within them and it was all directed at me.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" he raged. "Don't you know how to fucking knock?"

Because, of course, people tend to have oral sex in utility closets and deserve the respect of a knock.

My mind rationalized the absurdity of his question, but the more I stared at him, into those eyes, the weaker I became. My throat felt constricted by the animosity seeping through his touch and blazing within his eyes. I tried to speak, to do something to deflect the hatred pouring off him, but I could only stutter words. "I… I thought-"

I saw the strawberry blonde scurry past us through my peripherals, and I tried to full on look at her, to plead with her to do something, but I couldn't look away from those eyes. They were so piercing, scorching like liquid fire and as unfathomable as the deepest pit.

He was waiting for my response, and I tried, but failed miserably. He exhaled in aggravation, and his warm breath whispered across my face, electrifying my flesh and forming goosebumps. I didn't like him, not at all, but I wondered how someone's breath was able to cause such a reaction. Was it because of his anger? And in wondering, I found myself staring at his mouth.

He caught me, and I watched his lips turn up on one side. When I glanced back up, the anger was still present, though not as bone crushing, but was now accompanied by a devious smirk. He stepped closer, situating his face inches from mine, holding my eyes in place with his. I could smell him now. He smelt like cotton candy and guy mixed. It was strange, but familiar somehow. I couldn't place why, though.

"I get it. You like what you saw, don't you?" The smirk upon his face grew. "You want to suck my cock, too." His tone and the way he formulated the words made it obvious his statement was not a question. Smug bastard.

It was only after his vulgarity that I was finally able to speak because I was pissed. How dare he talk to me like that?

"You're disgusting," I spat.

"And you interrupted me coming."

"Let go of my arm," I growled.

I yanked my arm free and shoved at his chest to move him, but he wouldn't budge. He had to see how angry I was now, but I think he liked it. I think he liked goading me.

"Move," I seethed.

He took another step in my direction, nearly pressing his body against mine. He bent forward, his mouth grazing my ear, causing me to shiver as he whispered, "I hate working here, but I have to be here. If you think I'm going to let you fuck me over and get me fired you're mistaken, runt. You open your mouth about what you saw, and I promise you that anything shitty you've endured before now will look mild compared to the hell I'll put you through."

Each word was as cutting as a knife slicing effortlessly through my skin, leaving jagged tears that wouldn't heal. I had no doubt he'd make good on his promise.

My steeled composure was now trembling with fear. Tears stung the corner of my eyes, and I clamped down on the inside of my cheek, praying I could at least hold those back. I'd already revealed fear by my trembling form. I didn't want to give him my tears too.

He stepped back, once again paralyzing me with that cold stare. "We clear?" All I could do was blink in response. "I'll take that as a yes." And then it was like he went bi-polar or shifted personalities. He smiled, then said before leaving me standing there a crippled mess, "You enjoy the rest of your day."


I'd barely slept, haunted by nightmares of burning green eyes and hateful words that decimated me piece by piece. It was stupid to think he was that powerful, but it didn't negate the fear my nightmares stirred. Anything was possible through imagination.

I had struggled to keep myself together, to hold back that I wasn't okay after leaving that backroom. I hardened my spine, keeping my head held high as I entered the store. I averted my eyes to anything but what was ahead of me, yet I knew he was watching me, waiting for me to buckle. He'd already gotten enough satisfaction from my fear to last a lifetime. I wouldn't do it, not again.

And under the circumstances, I was doing rather well, but Charlie and Renee still mentioned that I seemed off, too quiet. The quiet got worse when Renee mentioned I'd start working at the store the following night. I, of course, blamed my lack of conversation and enthusiasm on being tired, which seemed to make sense to them with everything that happened over the last few days.

I excused myself to bed early after barely touching dinner and lay in bed, eyes scouring the ceiling, counting the dips and cracks, wondering how someone could he so damn mean. Was he just that way, or had something happened to him to make him such a prick? Regardless, in my eyes, there was no excuse.

It wasn't until around three in the morning that my body finally gave in to sleep, but it was nothing but restless.

I had to pep talk myself into getting up in the morning and going to school. I was tired, I was anxious and I just wanted to go back to Phoenix. I took a shower and got dressed, then brushed my hair, leaving it down in waves that ended at the middle of my back. I took my Cyclosporin pill – it was taken to control rejection of my new heart by reducing the strength of my immune system - and headed downstairs with my bag. I put on a happy face for Charlie and Renee's benefit, then headed out to my parent's car. I found out Charlie was taking the red bomb for an oil and tire change this morning.

I endured another mental pep talk just to make myself get out of the car when we pulled into the school parking lot. I was full of pep talking today. I faked a smile for Charlie as I climbed out of the car and kept my hair curtained around my face as I moved toward the school doors. Of course this caused me to nearly run into people and objects on the way, but I managed to make it to the doors relatively unscathed and without seeing the green-eyed monster – who I learned from one of the cashiers at my parent's store was named Edward. I never found out a last name.

I dozed off through first class, my hair blanketed around my face still – falling asleep in class was something I never did, but it helped to pass the time. When class ended, I hurried to my locker and grabbed what I needed for Government.

I was doing good so far, though I was very much on edge. There were no run-ins with Edward. I hurried to class, seating myself at my desk. And just like the day before, I heard the loud guffaws of Emmett, who was chatting with Jasper and… Edward? What the hell? Edward was in this class? How had I not noticed him yesterday?

The figurative storm clouds over my head parted enough for sonar to spring out my ass, traveling at the speed of light directly to him, screaming out my location. His eyes immediately found me. Would I ever catch a break?

I tried not to squirm at the intensity in which he was looking at me, but it was not a feat I managed well. He saw my discomfort, causing him to smirk at me - that made me want to stab him with a fork. Obviously, my brain and body were not on the same page in response to him.

I was finally granted a minor reprieve when he took his seat, which thankfully was on the other side of the room. But I could still feel him watching me occasionally, and I knew why he was doing it. I also knew he knew that I was aware he was doing it.

Unfortunately, Government dragged, making me feel like I was sitting in a tiny room alone with him, suffocating for an eternity.

Stupidly, when there was just five minutes left of class, I chanced a glance in his direction, figuring he wouldn't see me if I stayed far enough behind my hair. I had no clue why I did this, other than I must be masochistic. I tried to be nonchalant about it, but that didn't work at all because he was staring at me and saw when I took a peek, giving his usual reaction… a smirk. God, he pissed me off.

Class ended and he was one of the first out the door. I was afraid to leave, thinking he might be waiting for me. He wasn't, and I was glad about that.

The rest of my classes up until lunch were easy enough. It helped that Edward wasn't in them. I attempted hiding at one point in Trig, but that did not go over with Alice. I didn't even bother trying to hide in Spanish. She might have thrown one of her Jimmy Choos at me. So I talked to her when we had free time and took notes and worked when we didn't.

I stopped at my locker after Spanish, Alice in tow, to drop off my books. I followed her to her locker so she could do the same, then we headed to lunch. Alice's infectious laughter and continuous conversation lightened my mood, so I was feeling comfortable enough when we entered the cafeteria and grabbed food.

We were first at the table, the others showing up after. I'd just taken a sip of my juice when Alice started talking about the Sweetheart Dance.

"I can't believe it's in ten days," she sang. "Are you gonna go?"

"Uh… no." I shook my head. "I don't really dance."

She rolled her eyes. "It's not hard to learn. And slow dancing, you basically stand in one place and sway your hips."

"Trust me," I laughed. "You don't want to be in the vicinity of me swaying anything."

She giggled, popping a grape in her mouth.

Lunch was halfway over and we were still lost in conversation. She even invited me to tag along with her to get last minute accessories she needed for her dress. I wasn't one for shopping too often, but it was nice being asked.

Lunch went smoothly, but it ended too soon. I tried to delay the inevitable, going to Biology, but I was never one to get into trouble in school, and being late would no doubt get me in trouble. I moved as slow as I could afford, but was still left with two minutes to spare. Apparently, I hadn't moved slow enough.

Edward was not at the lab table when I walked in, but I'd already had sweaty palms from the anxiety working its way through my body. I hated the idea of sitting next to him.

He managed to walk through the door just as the bell rang. Mr. Banner gave him the stink eye, but didn't reprimand him. I anticipated the worst when he sat down, but not one time did he look at me or say a word. Not once.

We had a lab on mitosis, which he did not participate in, at least not with me. We were supposed to be partnered up, but he made no effort to do so – not that I minded not working with him - so I answered the questions on my own, barely getting finished in time because he refused to share the allium root tip slide and microscope until he was done with them. And I was positive he never actually did the work.

Gym consisted of a bloody nose, not mine, but the girl that was victim of my attempt to play dodge ball. I ended up being benched for the safety of the rest of the class.

When the bell rang, I stopped at my locker, grabbing all my homework, and met Charlie out in the parking lot.

He was driving the red bomb.

When I climbed inside, he asked how my day was and if I'd noticed the new tires. I hadn't, in fact, noticed the tires, but I promised to look at them when we got home. He reminded me that I started work today, and I'd really only have enough time to go home, do my homework if I was quick, change and grab a snack before we had to leave. I wasn't really hungry, so I changed into black slacks and a white turtleneck that was paired with a white collared shirt over it, then did my Trig and English homework.

Renee and the store manager, Paula, were waiting for me in the office overlooking the front of the store when I arrived. They went into detail what was expected of me, what my job entailed, what was acceptable and not acceptable behavior. I, of course, thought back to Edward and the blonde in the utility closet during the acceptable and unacceptable speech. If my mother only knew the truth of what happened in her precious store behind her back.

She made it clear that I was in no uncertain terms to call her mom while working. This was business and I was to address her as Renee. That wasn't a difficult task, considering that's how I usually addressed her mentally anyway.

I was then introduced to the cashiers; Kelly, Jane, Nancy and Tanya. I recognized Tanya immediately.

So that's what strawberry blonde looks like without a dick in her mouth.

Renee took me on a tour of the place, not that I hadn't seen more than enough of it already, but I went along willingly. I also met two of the stockers, Bill and Matt.

Once the tour was over, I followed Renee back up to the front of the store. I was under the impression that I'd be immediately placed at the register. However, this was not the case. I was told that Higgenbotham Store cashiers were the first and last people that a customer saw when they entered the store, and it was very important they were educated as to where everything was located. So for the next three days, I'd be working the floor with another employee to familiarize myself as to where everything was. I was not happy about this, but what could I do about it?

Paula and I were just heading out of the office with the intention of her handing me off to one of the floor workers when Edward walked in.

"You're late, Edward," she barked.

"I showed up, didn't I?" He was obviously an ass to everyone and not just me. Somehow I felt relieved by this.

"Yeah, and you showed up late." Her right hand landed on her hip, head bobbing side to side as she ranted. "You know the rules. You're to be here on time. One more strike, Edward, and you're gone. You know what that means."

The grinding of his teeth and the reddening of his cheeks gave away his anger, but that was the only thing that gave it away. Somehow he managed to suppress that hateful tongue. She quickly introduced us, though I already knew his first name and he knew mine. But I nearly shit myself when I learned he was a Cullen. My God, did I pity Alice.

"Seeing as you chose to be late today, you're now the proud recipient of training Bella on the floor for the next three days."

"What!" Edward and I screeched simultaneously, both of us glaring at Paula. Was she insane?

Not only was I unable to get away from this guy at school, I had to deal with him at work, too. And much to my dismay, it would be one-on-one for the next three days.

What the hell had I done in a previous life to deserve this shit?


TUS - Chapter Two: Enigma

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Thump.
Thump, thump.
Thump.
Thump, thump, thump!
My eyelids fluttered painfully over my eyes, and my heart felt as if it were beating in my head, reverberating off my eardrums straight to my brain. And when I turned slightly, hoping to alleviate the sound, an acute throbbing dominated the inside of my head.
I winced fully, and the echoed intonation only served to increase the tempo of the throbbing. Human instinct was to touch the part of you that hurt, but I was afraid if my fingers even lightly brushed over my forehead, and that wasn't even where the full extent of the pain resided, it would only worsen the pain I was feeling.
Even still, through the biting discomfort, my eyelids steadily fluttered their way open. My vision was obscured, but I could make out that there was really nothing but blackness surrounding me anyway. Well, almost nothing but blackness.
As my vision focused, I noticed from my peripherals that there was a small patch of light dancing toward the corner of the room, and just as I recognized I was seeing some light, realization that I did not recognize where I was stormed its way across me like a tsunami. My breathing became staccato, which I noticed was the only sound I heard around me; everything else was silent.
I paused for the briefest second, trying to recollect anything that would explain why I was laying somewhere completely unfamiliar, surrounded by near darkness, and breathing in a musty scent I wasn't accustomed to smelling. And then it hit me; I was spending the weekend with Alice, we'd went to that old hospital with a group of others, I was exploring the place with Jess, she lost her phone, I went to find it, I-
Oh God, I remember!
Just as I recalled falling and those piercing green eyes, whose gaze I literally felt slick across my flesh, I was inundated with terror. I knew where I was now, and I did not want to be here. I attempted to prop myself up on my elbows, but the minute movement awarded me with a bout of nausea while augmenting the ache within my skull. My eyelids literally wanted to close against the pain, but I fought to keep them open. It occurred to me that that struggle, keeping myself alert, could mean my life.
So I forced my eyelids to keep from shutting; my teeth clenched together, jaw completely taut, further intensifying my agony. And once my eyelids were fully open and free of closing on me, though the rest of my discomfort remained, my eyes darted around the room, searching for a way out of this place.
I'd barely made a full scan of the room when I heard an audible exhale of breath, and just like a magnet I was drawn to the sound. There in the corner, where the room was moderately illuminated, was a shadow. I wasn't alone, and I knew without an ounce of ambivalence who was there.
I felt suffocated by trepidation, yet I found myself once again in the same predicament; my body was completely paralyzed by fear, other than my hands that were now gripping at torn material to what felt like a thin mattress. I'm not even sure why, except that maybe I felt like somehow my holding onto that torn mattress would help brace me against whatever was about to happen.
The shadow grew until it formed into a complete man. It was dark, yes, but I could make his form out easily. And even in the darkness of the room, I could see those green eyes, feel them on me. I was encapsulated by those eyes, the vigor behind them. In that moment, I was positive by a mere look, he could annihilate someone if he truly wanted to.
He took two hesitant steps forward, like he wanted to near me and wasn't sure, but those two steps, which were obviously bringing him closer to me, were enough of a catalyst to alert me into defense mode. Whether I was concussed or not, I had to get out of this place and I had to do it now.
I pushed forward with my hands, clumsily lifting my body up off that mattress. My movements were so swift, even for me, that the moment I was upright, because of my injury, I was assailed with an overwhelming dizziness. It was too much added on to what I was already feeling, so my body completely caved, collapsing underneath me, once again shoving me into unconsciousness.

Green eyes, floating at the…
It's so dark in here. It's not safe here.
So cold, the snow is so cold on my…
Deep breaths near my ear. He's right there.
Warm electricity all over…
Everything hurts.
Angry face…eyes burning skin and…
Am I dying?
Ghosts swallowing everything in darkness…no breaths…emptiness...

My eyes felt like weighted stone as I attempted to open them, and the pain in my head was still present, though it wasn't as sovereign. I stirred a little, needing to move my body because it felt like I'd been in the same position for days, which I may very well have been. As I moved, I went to lift my hands to my face, but felt something draped over me, scraping against my knuckles. I turned my hands palm upward to grasp whatever it was I felt against my skin, and when my fingers touched it, I could tell it was a sheet.
I immediately pulled my arms back to push at the sheet, and my elbow collided with something to the left of me, causing me to gasp. I was completely responsive to what was beside me before I actually realized what I was doing; a knee-jerk reaction.
I abruptly sat up, kicking at the sheet with my feet to remove it. The dizziness returned, but it wasn't as heady as before. I went to slap at what was beside me, treating it like a leper, until I realized what it was. It was a stuffed bear, tattered and missing an arm, but it had been nestled under the sheet with me. I grabbed the bear in my hands, repeatedly flipping it over as I stared at it wide-eyed and wondering why it was sitting next to me.
It was then, as I stared at the stuffed bear within my hands, that I realized I wasn't alone, not that I should have been surprised by that fact. The area was illuminated much more than last time, but it was equivalent to a nightlight in a darkened room. Ironically, that's what it was…well, if you considered a dimly lit oil lamp a nightlight. He was huddled in the same corner he'd been in before, forehead pressed against the wall, watching me out of the corner of his eyes.
The way he was crouched in the corner, like he was trying to climb inside the wall to hide, made me think he was more afraid of me than I was of him. I looked between him and the bear I was holding in my hands. I knew he must have given it to me, but I wondered why. I mean, if he was some crazed lunatic, why would he let me live, cover me with a sheet, and place a damaged bear beside me?
And though none of this made sense to me, topped with the way he appeared almost childlike in his demeanor, I wasn't about to let my guard down. His reaction could be merely for show to lure me in so he could hack me into little pieces or something when I wasn't so suspecting of him.
But maybe if I played nice, showed him I wasn't a threat, he'd let me go. "D-did you give me this?" I asked. Stupid question, Bella, of course he gave you the bear.
He cocked his head slightly to the right, like he was trying to understand what I just asked him, but made no attempt to move away from the wall or speak; in fact, he seemed to press himself further into the corner.
This was obviously going to take some finessing on my part. I'd much rather skip past all the formalities and just run the hell away from this place and him, but I wasn't sure that once I made an attempt to leave, he wouldn't try to stop me. He was obviously much closer to the door than I was, and I had no idea what part of the hospital he had me in. I didn't recognize this at all, not that I had anything more than the basement as a base of comparison.
"Umm, thanks for the blanket…and the bear." I had no idea what to say to him, no idea what words would make a difference in him letting me go. Obviously, I wasn't under the assumption that I could overpower him, because given his size and the physical state I was in, that certainly was not going to happen. I was left with talking to save my life. "It's a nice bear. Is it yours?"
He still said nothing, but his eyes never once strayed from me.
For all I knew, he couldn't speak, couldn't comprehend a single word I uttered. And this, my attempt at swaying him with words, would be a fruitless effort. And still, I droned on with incessant chatter, hoping something would change and give me the advantage here. I went so far as to compliment his living quarters, as if anything about this place was appealing enough to compliment. But I wasn't about to say something offensive that might infuriate him, especially when I had no idea at all what I may be dealing with here.
But he sat there, huddled in that corner, saying nothing, only watching me as if I were some sort of enigma he was trying to figure out. I was getting agitated, I was tired, I was scared, I was in pain, and I just wanted to go home. Because of all that, I just snapped. "Please, you have to let me go. Please!" I was shouting at him, tears falling from my eyes. "You can't keep me here. You have to let me go!"
Everything afterward happened in a flash, like a chain reaction. No sooner had I finished pleading for my freedom, he let out a blood curdling scream, covered his ears with his hands, and began to rock back and forth, incoherent noises filtering unceasingly from his lips.
I flew up from the mattress, colliding backward into a hard surface in my attempt to distance myself from him. I was overcome with terror, so much so, that my breaths were coming out in rapid succession, leaving me on the verge of hyperventilating. Tears were falling mercilessly down my cheeks in unsymmetrical patterns, and the knowledge that I may never see my loved ones or my friends again after today consumed me. "I'm sorry," I mumbled in a choked whisper, over and over.
I could only stay pressed against that wall, writhing in fear as my captor had a paroxysm of some kind, and wait to learn my fate. Wait to live, wait to die, but regardless which one, he was in control of the choice. I was all too aware of that fact.
I had no idea how long he sat there, making those God awful noises, or how long I was backed against that wall, watching him. It was awhile, that I was sure of, but the noises finally subsided, and the repetitive rocking slowed. His hands were still resting over his ears, like that in itself was a form of protection for him; a shield.
He clearly wasn't your typical murderer by text book definition, but honestly, I wouldn't really know what actually defined a typical murderer. It wasn't as if I'd ever been in a situation like this or faced a murderer before. I just never expected that one would appear afraid of their intended victims, especially in front of said victim.
The need to get away certainly hadn't dissipated, but I had no hankering to relive that outburst of his, so I stayed silent and as far from him as I could. The talking apparently wasn't going to work, and it seemed that he had no inclination to let me go, so I was going to have to find some other way to get free.
He certainly wasn't a ghost and that meant he needed sleep. He may be able to hold off for awhile, but he eventually had to sleep sometime, and when he did, that was the chance I needed for escape. I just had to stay alive until then, and staying alive meant following the rules. I wasn't exactly sure what his rules were yet, but I was sure I'd learn them, and I'd abide them.
I'd be the good little captive until that window of opportunity presented itself, and when it did, I'd take it, I'd leave this place, and I'd be free.