His lip curled in anger as he searched the ground with unskilled and almost completely black eyes. Nothing. Not even a broken twig to show that someone had been here recently. There weren’t any footprints, no fresh scents, nothing on this whole damn mountain, man, beast, or anything else.
Edward sighed and looked back up at the drifting clouds, almost tasting his anger and his failure. Who did he think he was kidding? He was no tracker. The man had probably meant another red haired woman. He was just wasting his time here in Brazil. He should go back to Texas and see if he can pick the trail back up again. He had to finish this. He was afraid Victoria would go back to Forks and go after her again. And all he ever wanted was for her to live a normal life, a life without vampires or fear.
Edward turned away from the magnificent view and, for once, slowly made his way back down the mountainside, deep in thought. He knew he should hurry, maybe hunting a little before getting back to where the people were, so the jumble of voices could cloud his mind and stop the thoughts of her. But he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t stop torturing himself with his memories. He may be able to leave her physically, but she was never far from his thoughts.
Both of them in the meadow, a shy smile playing on her lips as he laid out in the sunlight with no shirt on. The way her eyes flashed in anger whenever he said something she didn’t like. The beautiful way her hair caught the sunlight. The sound of her laugh when he told her a silly joke. The way she never looked at him in fear, her eyes always so trusting and so full of love. She was the sun to his everlasting night.
Bella. His Bella.
Edward spun around, his fist crashing into a tree, ripping through the wood, the leaves rustling angrily at the disturbance. In moments like this, the pain was too much. In moments like this, he wished more than anything to be with her again. He had foolishly thought it would become easier with time, since this was the right thing to do. But the longer he stayed away from her, the more he had to deny himself, the harder the pain was to deal with. He slowly pulled his hand away and frowned at the crater he had made in the trunk. Carefully, he ripped at the edges so it looked more like an animal had scratched at the tree instead of a human fist plunging through the hard wood. Always cover your tracks.
He felt his phone vibrating against his leg. Impatiently, he pulled out the slim cell phone and flipped it open, growling a “What?” into the receiver.
“Hello, Edward. It’s Rosalie. How’s my darling brother?”
Edward closed his eyes, still ripping chunks of the tree away idly with his fingertips, grasping at the last threads of his patience. “What is it, Rosalie? Because I’m not coming back and I’m not in the mood.”
“But that’s just it, Edward.” Her voice was sickly sweet, as if she was holding the key to their salvation in the palm of her perfect hand. “You don’t have to stay away now.”
The splinters coming off of the tree became larger. “What the hell are you talking about, Rosalie?” he hissed, quickly losing grasp of the little patience he had left.
“Well, my dear brother,” she savored the moment, as if feeding from the sweetness of tormenting him, “it would appear that Bella is no longer an issue.”
His hand froze over the hard wood that was teetering precariously, almost half of it’s trunk ripped off in his distraction. “What?”
“Bella. She’s dead. Jumped off a cliff or something.” There was a note of triumph in her voice, as if this would be the best news Edward would ever receive in his non-life.
Edward felt like he had been punched in the stomach. The impending wave of pain began to lick at his toes, but he stepped away from it, not believing what he had just heard. “What do you mean she jumped off of a cliff? How do you know?”
He could almost see the way she waved her manicured hand dismissively, “Alice saw it. Bella going into the water and not coming out. But the important thing is you can come home now.”
Edward snapped the phone shut without even bothering with a goodbye. No. She wouldn’t. Rosalie had to be wrong. He reopened the cell, typed in a number from heart, and listened impatiently as it rung, his fingers unconsciously picking at the tree again that was beginning to tilt dangerously.
A husky, unfamiliar voice answered the phone. “Swan residence.”
Edward paused at the strange voice. Who...? But quickly he gathered himself and calmly said, “Yes, this is Dr. Carlisle Cullen. I was hoping to speak with Police Chief Swan?”
There was a moment of silence on the other end. “He’s not here.” The voice was angry now, a dangerous edge to the words.
Fury flared up in Edward at the obvious challenge, making him bare his teeth. “Well where is he?”
“He’s at the funeral.” And the line went dead.
Edward held the phone to his ear for a full minute, hoping, wishing, praying to anything that might be listening that the stranger’s voice would come back and say that he was mistaken. That Charlie was out with Bella getting dinner or seeing a movie. Something. Anything.
But the voice was gone. And it didn’t come back.
The phone started to vibrate again, loud against his ear, waking him from his daze. He looked numbly at the caller I.D. and saw Rosalie’s name. She had been right. Bella was gone.
Oh, Bella...
The tidal wave of pain crashed over him, ripping his soul apart in one fell swoop, the phone crushing like a can in his hand. He swiped at the damaged trunk of his tree, destroying the remaining wood that held it up, making it crash to the ground, the sudden noise mixing with his scream as his world collapsed around him.
He took off at a run, weaving through trees and brush, not seeing where he was going, not caring if he was seen. He had to get away from the pain grabbing at his heels, away from Rosalie’s voice that was dripping with happiness, away from the words of the stranger repeating over and over in his head, he’s at the funeral, he’s at the funeral, away from the knowledge that his sun had been snuffed out forever, that his Bella had leapt to her own death, that his whole reason for being was now gone.
It was his fault. It was all his fault. She was gone. She was gone forever.
The sound of his dead heart shattering could be heard for miles.
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