She scrambled to her feet-pausing only to spit in my direction-and ran for the trees, vibrating like a tuning fork.
I laughed darkly. "You missed."
Sam was going to give me hell for that, but it was worth it. Leah wouldn't bug me anymore. And I'd do it again if I had the chance.
Because her words were still there, scratching themselves into my brain, the pain of it so strong that I could hardly breathe.
It didn't matter so much that Bella'd chosen someone else over me. That agony was nothing at all. That agony I could live with for the rest of my stupid, too long, stretched-out life.
But it did matter that she was giving up everything-that she was letting her heart stop and her skin ice over and her mind twist into some crystallized predator's head. A monster. A stranger.
I would have thought there was nothing worse than that, nothing more painful in the whole world.
But, if he killed her . . .
Again, I had to fight the rage. Maybe, if not for Leah, it would be good to let the heat change me into a creature who could deal with it better. A creature with instincts so much stronger than human emotions. An animal who couldn't feel pain in the same way. A different pain. Some variety, at least. But Leah was running now, and I didn't want to share her thoughts. I cussed her under my breath for taking away that escape, too.
My hands were shaking in spite of me. What shook them? Anger? Agony? I wasn't sure what I was fighting now.
I had to believe that Bella would survive. But that required trust-a trust I didn't want to feel, a trust in that bloodsucker's ability to keep her alive.
She would be different, and I wondered how that would affect me. Would it be the same as if she had died, to see her standing there like a stone? Like ice? When her scent burned in my nostrils and triggered the instinct to rip, to tear . . . How would that be? Could I want to kill her? Could I not want to kill one of them?
I watched the swells roll toward the beach. They disappeared from sight under the edge of the cliff, but I heard them beat against the sand. I watched them until it was late, long after dark.
Going home was probably a bad idea. But I was hungry, and I couldn't think of another plan.
I made a face as I pulled my arm through the retarded sling and grabbed my crutches. If only Charlie hadn't seen me that day and spread the word of my "motorcycle accident." Stupid props. I hated them.
Going hungry started to look better when I walked in the house and got a look at my dad's face. He had something on his mind. It was easy to tell-he always overdid it. Acted all casual.
He also talked too much. He was rambling about his day before I could get to the table. He never jabbered like this unless there was something that he didn't want to say. I ignored him as best I could, concentrating on the food. The faster I choked it down . . .
" . . . and Sue stopped by today." My dad's voice was loud. Hard to ignore. As always. "Amazing woman. She's tougher than grizzlies, that one. I don't know how she deals with that daughter of hers, though. Now Sue, she would have made one hell of a wolf. Leah's more of a wolverine." He chuckled at his own joke.
He waited briefly for my response, but didn't seem to see my blank, bored-out-of-my-mind expression. Most days that bugged him. I wished he would shut up about Leah. I was trying not to think about her.
"Seth's a lot easier. Of course, you were easier than your sisters, too, until . . . well, you have more to deal with than they did."
I sighed, long and deep, and stared out the window.
Billy was quiet for a second too long. "We got a letter today."
I could tell that this was the subject he'd been avoiding.
"A letter?"
"A . . . wedding invitation."
Every muscle in my body locked into place. A feather of heat seemed to brush down my back. I held onto the table to keep my hands steady.
Billy went on like he hadn't noticed. "There's a note inside that's addressed to you. I didn't read it."
He pulled a thick ivory envelope from where it was wedged between his leg and the side of his wheelchair. He laid it on the table between us.
"You probably don't need to read it. Doesn't really matter what it says."
Stupid reverse psychology. I yanked the envelope off the table.
It was some heavy, stiff paper. Expensive. Too fancy for Forks. The card inside was the same, too done-up and formal. Bella'd had nothing to do with this. There was no sign of her personal taste in the layers of see-through, petal-printed pages. I'd bet she didn't like it at all. I didn't read the words, not even to see the date. I didn't care.
There was a piece of the thick ivory paper folded in half with my name handwritten in black ink on the back. I didn't recognize the handwriting, but it was as fancy as the rest of it. For half a second, I wondered if the bloodsucker was into gloating.