The Twilight Saga Collection part 2(3)

“This is nice,” I commented when he pulled the warm sodas from the grocery bag. “I’ve missed this place.”

He smiled, looking around at the plastic sheds bolted together over our heads. “Yeah, I can understand that. All the splendor of the Taj Mahal, without the inconvenience and expense of traveling to India.”

“To Washington’s little Taj Mahal,” I toasted, holding up my can.

He touched his can to mine.

“Do you remember last Valentine’s Day? I think that was the last time you were here — the last time when things were still . . . normal, I mean.”

I laughed. “Of course I remember. I traded a lifetime of servitude for a box of conversation hearts. That’s not something I’m likely to forget.”

He laughed with me. “That’s right. Hmm, servitude. I’ll have to think of something good.” Then he sighed. “It feels like it was years ago. Another era. A happier one.”

I couldn’t agree with him. This was my happy era now. But I was surprised to realize how many things I missed from my own personal dark ages. I stared through the opening at the murky forest. The rain had picked up again, but it was warm in the little garage, sitting next to Jacob. He was as good as a furnace.

His fingers brushed my hand. “Things have really changed.”

“Yeah,” I said, and then I reached out and patted the back tire of my bike. “Charlie used to like me. I hope Billy doesn’t say anything about today. . . .” I bit my lip.

“He won’t. He doesn’t get worked up about things the way Charlie does. Hey, I never did apologize officially for that stupid move with the bike. I’m real sorry about ratting you out to Charlie. I wish I hadn’t.”

I rolled my eyes. “Me, too.”

“I’m really, really sorry.”

He looked at me hopefully, his wet, tangled black hair sticking up in every direction around his pleading face.

“Oh, fine! You’re forgiven.”

“Thanks, Bells!”

We grinned at each other for a second, and then his face clouded over.

“You know that day, when I brought the bike over . . . I’ve been wanting to ask you something,” he said slowly. “But also . . . not wanting to.”

I held very still — a reaction to stress. It was a habit I’d picked up from Edward.

“Were you just being stubborn because you were mad at me, or were you really serious?” he whispered.

“About what?” I whispered back, though I was sure I knew what he meant.

He glared at me. “You know. When you said it was none of my business . . . if — if he bit you.” He cringed visibly at the end.

“Jake . . .” My throat felt swollen. I couldn’t finish.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Were you serious?”

He was trembling just slightly. His eyes stayed closed.

“Yes,” I whispered.

Jacob inhaled, slow and deep. “I guess I knew that.”

I stared at his face, waiting for his eyes to open.

“You know what this will mean?” He demanded suddenly. “You do understand that, don’t you? What will happen if they break the treaty?”

“We’ll leave first,” I said in a small voice.

His eyes flashed open, their black depths full of anger and pain. “There wasn’t a geographic limit to the treaty, Bella. Our great-grandfathers only agreed to keep the peace because the Cullens swore that they were different, that humans weren’t in danger from them. They promised they would never kill or change anyone ever again. If they go back on their word, the treaty is meaningless, and they are no different than any other vampires. Once that’s established, when we find them again —”

“But, Jake, didn’t you break the treaty already?” I asked, grasping at straws. “Wasn’t part of it that you not tell people about the vampires? And you told me. So isn’t the treaty sort of moot, anyhow?”

Jacob didn’t like the reminder; the pain in his eyes hardened into animosity. “Yeah, I broke the treaty — back before I believed any of it. And I’m sure they were informed of that.” He glared sourly at my forehead, not meeting my shamed gaze. “But it’s not like that gives them a freebie or anything. There’s no fault for a fault. They have only one option if they object to what I did. The same option we’ll have when they break the treaty: to attack. To start the war.”

He made it sound so inevitable. I shuddered.

“Jake, it doesn’t have to be that way.”

His teeth ground together. “It is that way.”

The silence after his declaration felt very loud.