Hands on Me (A Twilight Fanfiction written by IndependentIndividuality)

Chapter Thirteen: In Which They Have Nahuel

NOT MY STORY

and you accept me like nobody

and i will always love you baby, with eyes closed

- shakira, something

-

Jacob exhaled heavily and raked his hand through his hair with more ferocity than was strictly necessary. I felt bad for the steering wheel when he returned his hand to it, gripping it tightly.

"Jake?" I tried again, tentatively. "What are we running from?"

"Don't – I don't want you to worry, okay?" He said seriously, looking me straight in the eye. "I'll never let anything happen to you, Nessie, I swear. You're going to be fine, do you hear me?"

"I – I know, Jake," I stuttered, his reaction worrying me worse than anything. "I know I'm safe with you. I trust you, just – just tell me."

He nodded his head several times at my words, as though he were trying to convince himself of something.

"You know, the – the . . . damn it, I forgot the name –"

I said lightly, in an attempt to ease the tension in the situation, "The goddamn-king-fucking-bloodsuckers?"

Jacob turned to stare at me, eyes wide, as though he didn't believe the words that had come out of my mouth. I blushed without meaning to. Like I ever meant to.

"What did you just say?"

"That's what you called them," I said defensively. "Last night. After – after the wedding."

Was it only last night? It felt like days.

His brow became quizzical for a moment before it smoothed in understanding.

"I'm – I'm sorry, Nessie," he said, reaching for my hand, which I let him take. "I didn't mean to scream at you, I just had to get you out, I had to get you away and all I could think of was –"

"But get me away from what, though?" I interrupted, my impatience getting the best of me. "You said king bloodsucker, but vampires don't have kings, Jacob. The only thing they have is the Volturi."

At the word 'Volturi', Jacob squeezed my hand hard and looked like he wanted to spit and I knew I had found it.

"The Volturi?" I asked incredulously. "Someone from the Volturi is chasing us?"

He just nodded his head tightly, and kept his eyes on the road. He gripped my hand more firmly, though, his big palm swallowing my whole hand entirely.

"What – what do they want? Is everyone else running too? Why aren't we together?"

"No," Jacob said, and at first I was unsure which question he was answering. "We're the only ones running – they, they don't want everyone."

My heart thudded in my chest and I knew Jacob could hear it. I had a hunch, a feeling, deep in my gut, but it couldn't be right. It didn't make any sense. Why would they want . . .

"Who do they want?"

His silence was my answer.

My heart stopped then, for a split second, and Jacob's gaze snapped to me.

The Volturi wanted me? Why? Why was I special? If they needed to see me about something, whatever it could possibly be, couldn't they just invite me to Italy? That seemed to be how it worked, and I would have gone (not that I would have had a choice if the Volturi had invited me), so why all of this? What had I done? I didn't know much about the Volturi – my family didn't like to talk about them for some reason – but I knew enough.