Runaway Girl {A Twilight Love Story}

Second Best Killer

I sat in the car for hours. I dropped Alice off in the parking garage and then I drove around in circles: where the I-10 turned to the 101, up and down Grand Avenue, through the tough neighborhoods on Camelback and the nice neighborhoods in Paradise Valley. I drove until the sun set behind the smog and I could get out of the car. I parked in front of a ball field off Bell Road and sat on the hood of the Volvo I watched some children playing catch; listening to the sound of the ball whistling through the air and the low smack of the ball hitting the mitt. The bright tones of their thoughts soothed me. I closed my eyes. I had never wanted sleep as much as when I was thinking of Bella. In that moment, when her eyes met mine, I felt the spark of a low burning flame. I was frozen in her presence. I yearned to walk to her, to close the gap between us and touch her soft cheek, to pick her up and hold her warm body against mine, to peruse her rose lips and whisper her name. My foot had almost picked up from the ground when he appeared. When I saw him holding her, feeling her, loving her, I felt like I was doused in cold water. I knew what he was. I could smell him through all the humans standing in the way: pungent and stale, how all werewolves smell. Of all the men that Bella could meet, she had to love a werewolf? What were the chances? I knew she was a magnet for trouble, a beacon for danger. She was trouble from the day I set eyes on her. And yet I knew I couldn't stay away. I wanted her around me so badly. I wanted to smell her and taste her breath on my lips. How could I ever leave again? More importantly, how could I stay? What was I going to do? Stalk behind her, watching her every move, standing in the shadows for fear of the sun? How do you even talk to a woman like Bella?

I heard the ball whiz towards me and reflexively, I reached up to catch it; my movement imperceptible to the human eye. As the boys ran towards me, I held the ball out. "Is this yours?"

They took me in: the car, the nice clothes, the pale skin, and the topaz eyes. They nodded, muted as I threw it back at them.

"Thanks, our mom would kill us if we lost another ball," the older one said.

I gave them my slight smile, not wanting to scare them. "Not a problem."

The older one stuck out his hand. "I'm Jason, and this is my little brother Tommy."

I shook his hand quickly, not wanting to freak him out by my temperature. "Nice to meet you boys, I'm Edward Cullen."

"You're not from here." Tommy, the young one stated.

I chuckled. "What would make you say that?"

He pointed to my car. "Your car. We don't have trees on our plates here."

I nodded at him. "You are quite astute aren't you? No. I'm from Washington State."

"Like Seattle? Like the Seahawks?" Jason asked.

I nodded. "Yeah, like the Seahawks."

"My daddy says the Seahawks suck," Tommy chimed in

I laughed at him. "Well, sometimes your daddy is right."

Jason cocked his head and sized me up. "So, what are you doing sitting on your car at an empty park at night?"

I sighed. Children are so much more perceptive, and less shy to embarrass. "I just needed to sit and think."

Jason sighed heavily, nodding his head. "Girl trouble? Man don't I know it." I struggled to bite the laughter back. He kept on talking. "Let me give you some advice Edward; go see her and tell her how you feel. What's the worst that could happen? It worked for me."

I frowned at him. "How old are you?"I asked.

"I am thirteen," he answered, straightening up tall.

I stood up and patted his shoulder. "Well Jason, those are some wise words from a thirteen year old. I think I might take them."

I climbed in my car and started driving back to the only place I wanted to be; the last place I should be. The bar was smoky and humid. I weaved between the fevered bodies, careful not to touch anyone. I glanced around the bar listening for a silent spot. I saw her come out from behind the bar wearing a short silver sequin dress and tall black boots. Her ass hung out of the bottom of the dress and her breasts strained against the bust. I watched her as she walked around to hand out the drinks. She leaned down and flirted, laughing at their jokes as she shook her ass to the beat of the music.

Just because she feeds me well
and she made me talk dirty in a pink hotel
doesn't mean she's got eyes for me

If I wasn't so perceptive, I would have assumed she was a different person. But Bella was still there. She tripped a bit over a chair and she blushed when she was talking to the bartender. Beneath the glitter powder, smoke and Victoria's Secret lotion, she still smelled the same—like freesia and peppermint. Her eyes were still caverns of mahogany and secrets. I had to know her.