The Twilight Saga Collection part 1(17)

And then they found us, a crowd of people with tears streaming down their faces, shouting at each other, shouting at us.

“Don’t move,” someone instructed.

“Get Tyler out of the van!” someone else shouted. There was a flurry of activity around us. I tried to get up, but Edward’s cold hand pushed my shoulder down.

“Just stay put for now.”

“But it’s cold,” I complained. It surprised me when he chuckled under his breath. There was an edge to the sound.

“You were over there,” I suddenly remembered, and his chuckle stopped short. “You were by your car.”

His expression turned hard. “No, I wasn’t.”

“I saw you.” All around us was chaos. I could hear the gruffer voices of adults arriving on the scene. But I obstinately held on to our argument; I was right, and he was going to admit it.

“Bella, I was standing with you, and I pulled you out of the way.” He unleashed the full, devastating power of his eyes on me, as if trying to communicate something crucial.

“No.” I set my jaw.

The gold in his eyes blazed. “Please, Bella.”

“Why?” I demanded.

“Trust me,” he pleaded, his soft voice overwhelming.

I could hear the sirens now. “Will you promise to explain everything to me later?”

“Fine,” he snapped, abruptly exasperated.

“Fine,” I repeated angrily.

It took six EMTs and two teachers — Mr. Varner and Coach Clapp — to shift the van far enough away from us to bring the stretchers in. Edward vehemently refused his, and I tried to do the same, but the traitor told them I’d hit my head and probably had a concussion. I almost died of humiliation when they put on the neck brace. It looked like the entire school was there, watching soberly as they loaded me in the back of the ambulance. Edward got to ride in the front. It was maddening.

To make matters worse, Chief Swan arrived before they could get me safely away.

“Bella!” he yelled in panic when he recognized me on the stretcher.

“I’m completely fine, Char — Dad,” I sighed. “There’s nothing wrong with me.”

He turned to the closest EMT for a second opinion. I tuned him out to consider the jumble of inexplicable images churning chaotically in my head. When they’d lifted me away from the car, I had seen the deep dent in the tan car’s bumper — a very distinct dent that fit the contours of Edward’s shoulders . . . as if he had braced himself against the car with enough force to damage the metal frame. . . .

And then there was his family, looking on from the distance, with expressions that ranged from disapproval to fury but held no hint of concern for their brother’s safety.

I tried to think of a logical solution that could explain what I had just seen — a solution that excluded the assumption that I was insane.

Naturally, the ambulance got a police escort to the county hospital. I felt ridiculous the whole time they were unloading me. What made it worse was that Edward simply glided through the hospital doors under his own power. I ground my teeth together.

They put me in the emergency room, a long room with a line of beds separated by pastel-patterned curtains. A nurse put a pressure cuff on my arm and a thermometer under my tongue. Since no one bothered pulling the curtain around to give me some privacy, I decided I wasn’t obligated to wear the stupid-looking neck brace anymore. When the nurse walked away, I quickly unfastened the Velcro and threw it under the bed.

There was another flurry of hospital personnel, another stretcher brought to the bed next to me. I recognized Tyler Crowley from my Government class beneath the bloodstained bandages wrapped tightly around his head. Tyler looked a hundred times worse than I felt. But he was staring anxiously at me.

“Bella, I’m so sorry!”

“I’m fine, Tyler — you look awful, are you all right?” As we spoke, nurses began unwinding his soiled bandages, exposing a myriad of shallow slices all over his forehead and left cheek.

He ignored me. “I thought I was going to kill you! I was going too fast, and I hit the ice wrong. . . .” He winced as one nurse started dabbing at his face.

“Don’t worry about it; you missed me.”

“How did you get out of the way so fast? You were there, and then you were gone. . . .”

“Umm . . . Edward pulled me out of the way.”

He looked confused. “Who?”

“Edward Cullen — he was standing next to me.” I’d always been a terrible liar; I didn’t sound convincing at all.

“Cullen? I didn’t see him . . . wow, it was all so fast, I guess. Is he okay?”