I waited. He knew what I wanted.
“It’s not what you think.” His voice was abruptly weary. “It’s not what I thought—I was way off.”
“So what is it, then?”
He studied my face for a long moment, speculating. The anger never completely left his eyes. “I can’t tell you,” he finally said.
My jaw tightened, and I spoke through my teeth. “I thought we were friends.”
“We were.” There was a slight emphasis on the past tense.
“But you don’t need friends anymore,” I said sourly. “You have Sam. Isn’t that nice—you’ve always looked up to him so much.”
“I didn’t understand him before.”
“And now you’ve seen the light. Hallelujah.”
“It wasn’t like I thought it was. This isn’t Sam’s fault. He’s helping me as much as he can.” His voice turned brittle and he looked over my head, past me, rage burning out from his eyes.
“He’s helping you,” I repeated dubiously. “Naturally.”
But Jacob didn’t seem to be listening. He was taking deep, deliberate breaths, trying to calm himself. He was so mad that his hands were shaking.
“Jacob, please,” I whispered. “Won’t you tell me what happened? Maybe I can help.”
“No one can help me now.” The words were a low moan; his voice broke.
“What did he do to you?” I demanded, tears collecting in my eyes. I reached out to him, as I had once before, stepping forward with my arms wide.
This time he cringed away, holding his hands up defensively. “Don’t touch me,” he whispered.
“Is Sam catching?” I mumbled. The stupid tears had escaped the corners of my eyes. I wiped them away with the back of my hand, and folded my arms across my chest.
“Stop blaming Sam.” The words came out fast, like a reflex. His hands reached up to twist around the hair that was no longer there, and then fell limply at his sides.
“Then who should I blame?” I retorted.
He halfway smiled; it was a bleak, twisted thing.
“You don’t want to hear that.”
“The hell I don’t!” I snapped. “I want to know, and I want to know now.”
“You’re wrong,” he snapped back.
“Don’t you dare tell me I’m wrong—I’m not the one who got brainwashed! Tell me now whose fault this all is, if it’s not your precious Sam!”
“You asked for it,” he growled at me, eyes glinting hard. “If you want to blame someone, why don’t you point your finger at those filthy, reeking bloodsuckers that you love so much?”
My mouth fell open and my breath came out with a whooshing sound. I was frozen in place, stabbed through with his double-edged words. The pain twisted in familiar patterns through my body, the jagged hole ripping me open from the inside out, but it was second place, background music to the chaos of my thoughts. I couldn’t believe that I’d heard him correctly. There was no trace of indecision in his face. Only fury.
My mouth still hung wide.
“I told you that you didn’t want to hear it,” he said.
“I don’t understand who you mean,” I whispered.
He raised one eyebrow in disbelief. “I think you understand exactly who I mean. You’re not going to make me say it, are you? I don’t like hurting you.”
“I don’t understand who you mean,” I repeated mechanically.
“The Cullens,” he said slowly, drawing out the word, scrutinizing my face as he spoke it. “I saw that—I can see in your eyes what it does to you when I say their name.”
I shook my head back and forth in denial, trying to clear it at the same time. How did he know this? And how did it have anything to do with Sam’s cult? Was it a gang of vampire-haters? What was the point of forming such a society when no vampires lived in Forks anymore? Why would Jacob start believing the stories about the Cullens now, when the evidence of them was long gone, never to return?
It took me too long to come up with the correct response. “Don’t tell me you’re listening to Billy’s superstitious nonsense now,” I said with a feeble attempt at mockery.
“He knows more than I gave him credit for.”
“Be serious, Jacob.”
He glared at me, his eyes critical.
“Superstitions aside,” I said quickly. “I still don’t see what you’re accusing the...Cullens”—wince—“of. They left more than half a year ago. How can you blame them for what Sam is doing now?”
“Sam isn’t doing anything, Bella. And I know they’re gone. But sometimes...things are set in motion, and then it’s too late.”