20. Purity

EPOV

At just after four in the morning, she started to stir in her sleep. I knew that it was too early for her to wake up, so I just shushed her and kept my fingers’ trailing slowly along her back. She was restless though, and after eight minutes of sighing and moaning sleepily, she let her eyes open.

When she looked up at me, I smiled…not really sure who I was greeting right now. The past two nights, when Bella had woken up in the middle of the night, she hadn’t been herself.


“Gotta go potty,” she mumbled sleepily and looked up at me, as if she was asking for permission.


“Yeah, baby…go on,” I told Isabella softly.


She lifted her head off of my shoulder and after she untangled herself from the sheets and blanket, she hopped down off of the bed. She turned to look back at me and rubbed her tired eyes.


“Edwaaard…don’t like the daaark,” she whined.


 reached over to the nightstand and clicked on the small lamp for her. She squinted her bleary eyes against the new light, then turned to walk over to the bathroom. She hummed Twinkle Twinkle Little Star while she was in there, and after I heard the water to the sink shut off, she came over to the bed.


I expected her to lay down and cuddle back into my side, but instead she stood and started jumping all around her side of the bed.

“Isabella, no baby…it’s still time to sleep.”

She had only slept for four hours. That wasn’t enough time and she should still be very tired right now.

“Nuh-uh Edward, s’time to play,” she said with a small giggle.

Useless fucking sleeping pill.


“Isabella, stop jumping,” I said, slightly more firmer this time.

She folded her legs under herself mid-air, so that when she landed, she wasin a seated position on her knees. Her long hair bounced one last time and flowed around her face as she looked at me with a questioning gaze.

“How come?”


“Because you still need to sleep-” I started but she cut me off.


“Nooo, not tiiired…” she whined.


Yeah, the whining isn't helping your case, hun.


She yawned.

And neither is that yawn.


I suddenly got an idea. I wasn’t sure if it would work, but I could try.

“C’mere Isabella, I want to cuddle…” I said, trying to persuade her to lay back down.


“How come you wanna cuddle, Edward? You sad?”


“No…”


“You hurt?”


“No, baby.”


She shook her head a little. “S’not time to cuddle, it's time to play,” she informed me matter-of-factly.

Then she yawned again.


I sighed. “Isabella, you need to sleep a little longer.”


“Noooo…” she whined.


Again.


Then she went and got off the bed.

“Where are you going?” I asked her when she started walking away.



“My dolly is awake, Edward. She wants to play too,” Isabella informed me, as if it should have been obvious, then she bent down to pick up her new doll and the bag of accessories for it.

When she climbed back onto the bed, baby doll in tow, she sat down by my side, then positioned the doll so that it was laying in her lap.

She looked at me and asked, “How come you’re still laying down, Edward?”


“Because I’m still tired and I want to cuddle with you,” I replied, keeping up my charade in hopes that she would forget the damn doll and go back to sleep.


She rubbed her eyes, giving away her still-sleepy state, and asked, “Edward, wanna play house with me and my dolly?”

I sighed, not really knowing what this game consisted of, but I was interested in everything that had to do with Isabella, so I gave in and nodded. “For a bit baby, but then you need to get some more sleep.”

She whined again. No words, just this pitiful noise in the back of her throat while keeping her mouth closed.

Okay…okay, yeah that’s going to get annoying…and fucking confusing.


Why do kids do that? Make all these pitiful little noises, as if they are physically hurt, but they are really only trying to get what they want…by making those noises. It doesn’t make any fucking sense. Why would that high pitched pathetic little noise get her anything she wants?

And so the mystery of Isabella Swan continues…

“Stop it,” I scolded in a soft voice.


She did, then looked at me questioningly.


“Isabella, whining like that won’t get you anything that you want, it will never help you get your way,” I explained gently. “Do you understand? When you make those little whimpering noises, the first thing that I think of is that you’re hurt in some way. I don’t like thinking that. And you are obviously fine, so stop it. If I hear you whining again, causing me needless worry, you’re going to be in trouble.”


“How?” she asked, opening the doll’s accessory bag.


“What do you mean, baby? How what?”


“How am I gonna be in trouble? You gonna fuck my mouth?” she asked curiously, then put one of those play bottles to her doll’s mouth.


“Holy shit,” I heard Emmett say from somewhere in the house.


I concur.


I was stunned into speechlessness for a few seconds by her casually asking me if I’m going to ‘fuck her mouth’…for punishment.


What. The. Fuck.


When I didn’t answer her, she looked away from her doll into my eyes. I just shook my head, not being able to trust my voice at the moment.

Flashes of doing that to my Bella went through my mind unbidden, and I had to bite back a groan from the…just fucking perfection of all the glorious images, as I was bombarded with the intense feeling of lust that was suddenly flowing through my body. I had to swallow back the venom that had instantly pooled in my mouth.

This is Isabella right now. Five year old Isabella. For fuck’s sake, why does she have to say things like that? It is so unbelievably disturbing that my five year old would ask that, but when said five year old is in the body of my very adult, very sexy Bella, it makes my uncontrollable lust for her body tainted, and I am filled with shame that I have that reaction to those words coming out of her mouth.


“How?” she asked again.


“Don’t worry about it, Isabella,” I said a little brusquely, my voice unexpectedly rough and husky from the lust…and anger.

Fucking disgusting.

I should not be turned on right now.


I cleared my throat. “Just take my advice and stop whining. You’re a big girl and big girls don’t whine…babies do,” I pointed out, relieved that my voice was honey-smooth again.


She yawned then, and I continued on. “And Isabella…you,” I hesitated, unsure of how to word this. “You don’t need to worry about that anymore,” I assured her.


Her head shot up from giving her doll a change of clothes. “About what? Being in trouble?” she hedged with a smile.

“No…no baby, you still need to follow the rules and worry about the consequences of breaking them. But…” I trailed off and sighed.

Just spit it out, Cullen.


“You don’t need to worry about what you just said happening to you anymore. At all,” I told her.


“Oh…” she said slowly as realization seemed to dawn on her. “I don’t gotta worry about you fucking my mouth?”

“Jesus Christ,” I muttered in a whisper, before I firmly answered, “No.”

“Kay,” she said lightly with a shrug, then turned her attention back to her doll’s outfit.

Why did her asking me that catch me so completely off guard? I mean, yeah…a child asking that question is not normal, but I have to face it…Isabella is anything but normal. I have to keep in mind from now on that she is, indeed, a disturbed little girl, so that I am more prepared to handle these little outbursts in the future. It’s just that being around her and spending time with her yesterday had left a lasting impression on me…my experience with her has told me that she’s very shy…very sweet…very innocent.

But, after her automatic writing, willingness to be naked in front of anyone, and her odd questions, I am coming to the realization that she had that innocence stolen from her. And now it just simply does not exist anymore. I guess I just have to get past the shock of it all…that my Bella was broken when she was still just a baby. Isabella is proof of that. I find myself growing wary of all the possibilities of other disturbing things that my little Isabella is capable of saying…or doing.


I was interrupted out of my reverie by Isabella handing me her doll, dressed in a completely different outfit. “Edward, I got my dolly dressed for the new day…pretty, huh?” she asked me shyly.


“Yes, baby,” I murmured in response. “You chose a pretty outfit for your baby doll.”


She yawned again. “Edward?” she mumbled, as her eyes began to droop.


I internally smiled, knowing that she was finally giving in to sleep. “Yes, Isabella?” I asked very softly, setting the quiet mood for a second bedtime.


“Can me and my dolly cuddle witchyouuu?” she whispered, and rubbed her right eye before tiredly giving another sigh.


I nodded. “Yes, c’mere baby,” I said, reaching for her.


She tucked her doll under her arm then, and let herself be enveloped into my arms. Once her head was back in it’s spot on my chest, she mumbled against my cotton shirt, “Can we watch my sleepy beauty movie?” she asked, referring to Sleeping Beauty.

I smiled at the irony, remembering how I always refer to her as that. I kissed her forehead. “Yeah baby, let me up and I’ll go put it on for us.”


She nodded and sat back up. She watched with bleary eyes as I got off the bed and went to the dvd shelf. I put The Emperor’s New Groove away, then grabbed Sleeping Beauty off of the shelf and stuck it in. After pressing play on the dvd player, I strolled back over to the bed and laid down.


I laughed when Isabella pounced on me, nuzzling my neck with some intensity and giving my waist a strong squeeze with her thin arm that she had wrapped around me. After a second, she loosened her grip and relaxed, whispering, ’mine’ with a possessiveness that always caught me a little off guard, but I loved nonetheless. I couldn’t seem to wipe the smug grin off of my face as she closed her eyes and slipped back into unconsciousness just as the movie’s beginning credits started rolling.


At 7:15, my girl was still tucked tightly into my side, her heart rate calm, her breathing slow. She was sleeping peacefully and I was very happy about that. Jasper came in to let me know that he was headed out to take care of Bella’s court fine, then him and Alice would check out a few places for a tire-swing. He said that if they couldn’t find one, then they would just pick up the needed supplies for one. Like a fucking tire and some rope.

So damn simple.

I should have thought of that yesterday while we were out.


At 9:03, Bella’s stomach started to growl, letting the entire house know that she was hungry, but still asleep. Esme let me know that she would start on breakfast for her, knowing that the hunger pangs would wake her up soon enough. I saw through her mind’s eye that she was making some French Toast and Emmett was slicing a banana and two strawberries to go with it. I whispered a quiet thank you to them as my sleeping beauty started to stir in my arms once again.


She opened her eyes and when she saw me, she smiled. “What’s that mm-mmm, yummy smell, Edward? I’m fucking starving,” she said, her voice thick with sleep.


“Esme is making you some French toast, sweetheart. It should be done in a minute,” I let Marie know, then kissed her forehead.


“Hmmm…“ she hummed. “Your mom is such a delicious twist between Betty Crocker and June Cleaver, I fucking love it,“ she said, then kissed me on my cheek. “Love you, Edward…” she mumbled, starting to get out of bed.


I watched her get untangled from the blankets and crawl on all fours to the edge of the bed, before hopping down.

“Love you too.”


“Love you more,” she insisted with a wink before she skipped off to the bathroom.


I chuckled as she closed the door behind her, then I got myself out of bed. I picked up Isabella’s doll and put it in the plastic basinet on the floor by the little corner ‘office’ that I had set up.


It was a small desk with a comfortable leather chair pushed flush against it. There was a laptop, and a few small office supplies, along with some paper for the printer next to the laptop. Isabella’s drawing book was on top of the desk, while all of her coloring utensils and coloring books were in the bottom drawer, at her disposal and ready for use.

After I put the doll away, I went back to the bed and gathered up all of it’s accessories, then shoved them back in the small bag and put it in the basinet next to the doll.

Marie came out of the bathroom, hair and teeth brushed, as I was started making the bed. She went over to the dresser and grabbed her new Cupcake Cult tin box, then opened it with a smile. I could see the wheels in her head turning at all the possibilities of the things she could put in there. She closed the lid with a type of reverence, just as I was positioning the last pillow on the bed, then walked over to the closet, and tried to reach the top shelf to put her box up there. The action caused her night gown to ride up the back of her thighs in the process, until I could get a peek at the panties I had chosen for her last night. I could feel venom start to pool into my mouth as my eyes zeroed in on the soft curve of perfection before me.


Christ, she’s got an ass that won’t quit. I want to bite it…and lick it…and fucking squeeze-

I was interrupted from my thoughts when I heard that now familiar whine coming from the back of her throat as she stomped her foot because she couldn‘t quite reach the shelf. She turned to me with a scowl on her face, before she said petulantly, “I’m too fucking short.”


Too fucking cute.


I chuckled. “Aw…let me see it, baby,” I told her while walking over in her direction.

She handed it to me, but not before warning me to be careful with her box, and I placed it up on the shelf for her, fully aware that she wouldn’t be able to get it by herself if it was up there. This way, every time she wanted it, I would have to get it for her, thus giving me a chance to make sure there wasn’t any secret weed stashed in there.


Once it was on the shelf, I turned back to Marie and kissed her forehead. “Get dressed, love, breakfast is ready,” I murmured against her skin.

She grabbed a pair of black loose fitting jeans that I knew would hang low on her hips, and a white tank top with the logo ‘Well, La-De-Fucking-Da’ written in black text across the chest.

I smiled, thinking how that shirt really was perfect for Marie, in fact - she was probably the one who picked it out when I took Bella clothes shopping on Saturday.

She walked by me then, and slyly grabbed my ass before heading towards the bathroom to get dressed.


While she was in there, I dressed in a pair of jeans and a green button down shirt. A few minutes later, Marie came out of the bathroom, dressed with her hairbrush in hand. She headed over towards the dresser, then proceeded to look for something.

“Edward, where did my Bell put the damn hair ties?” she asked.

“There’s a little box of hair ties and clippies that she put in a drawer in the bathroom,” I informed her.

“Yeah, well there’s like twenty goddamn drawers in your bathroom fit for motherfucking royalty, so therein lies the problem, doll. If I could only fucking find it, that would be awesome, ya know?” she said, tossing the hairbrush onto the dresser with a huff.

“Why do you want the hair ties anyway, baby?” I asked her.

I rarely ever saw Bella with her hair up.


She gazed at me skeptically, “Have you seen this motherfucking mane that my Bell’s been sportin lately?” she asked, pulling on a few strands of the silky brown locks that were long enough to flow down to her waist. “It’s getting annoying. I want it out of the way. Jesus Christ, is it too much to ask for her to go get a goddamn trim every once in a while?!” she ranted, then exhaled loudly. “I mean…FUCK!” she yelled, flipping her hair behind her shoulder, and grabbing the hairbrush again before stomping back off towards the bathroom.


I heard drawers opening and slamming closed for a few seconds then. Thirteen slams later, the slamming stopped, so I assumed that she had found them.

I didn’t like the idea of my Bella cutting her hair…even if it’s only for a trim. I loved her hair. So long, so soft, and mmmm smells so good. I fucking love playing with it.


So, yes…a trim is asking too much.


Marie came out of the bathroom with a black cap facing backwards on her head then. She had pulled all her hair back into a low ponytail, but kept it in a bun/messy ponytail, so that none of the hair fell down past the nape of her neck.


“So much better,” Marie quietly muttered with a relieved smile.

I smiled, knowing that her hair tantrum was over, and motioned towards the bedroom door. “Breakfast-” I started, but she cut me off.


“I know, yummy French toast,” she said while walking past me and out the door.

She jogged down the steps and I stayed close behind, wary of her falling. If my Bella tried this, she’d have done a face-plant into the banister by now. Marie kept a firm hold on the railing the whole way down though, so that prevented any fatal injury from occurring before the day had even really started.


Marie ignored my family as she kept up her jog all the way to the dining room table. She sat down just as Esme was bringing out her plate of food from the kitchen.

Esme set the plate down on the table in front of Marie’s beaming face…then looked to me, clearly hesitant on how to greet Marie as opposed to Bella.


“Mmmm, looks fucking delicious, Esme. Thanks! You’re like, the best fucking mom in the whole goddamn world, let me tell you…” she trailed off as she shoved a forkful of butter and syrup covered bread into her mouth. While she was chewing a mouth full of food, she continued on, “I swear to god, it’s like an orgasm in your mouth,” she said with a moan that did ungodly things to my body.


Emmett’s booming laugh trailed out to us from the kitchen and Esme’s face lit up with a beaming smile in response to being called 'the best fucking mom in the whole goddamn world’. I smiled as I took my seat next to her, knowing that Marie had just made my mother’s day with that comment.


She ate most of her food with a smile on her face and was making conversation with Emmett who had joined us at the table.


“Do you play ball, Em?” Marie asked, stabbing a piece of banana with her fork and slipping it between her teeth.

“Yeah, but we play baseball in our own way…” he said, then went on to explain our games out at the field during thunderstorms.


“I like basketball and soccer,” she said after he finished his baseball explanation. “Do you like those?” she asked as her lips puckered up a little at the sweetness of the strawberry she had just popped in her mouth.


“Never really played them,” he informed her.


She nodded. then turned to me. “So how are you likin the baby?” she asked, completely changing the subject.


I furrowed my brow. “Isabella?” I clarified.


She rolled her eyes and nodded. “Who the fuck else would it be, Edward? You make it a point to hang out with babies all the time, or something?” she asked with a furrowed brow of her own.


“No…just wondering why you are referring to her as ‘the baby’. She’s not, she’s five,” I said.


“Just a goddamn habit, I guess,” she said with a shrug. “I mean, she’s fucking tiny as hell, and looks extremely young, so I kindly dubbed her the honor of having that fuckawesome nickname,” she explained.

“What do you mean…looks?” I asked, completely thrown off by Marie describing Isabella’s physical features to us.

She rolled her eyes again. “Oh please, Edward…you’ve seen the fucking pictures, you know what Isabella looks like. Speaking of those pictures, you’d better make sure to remind the doc what I told him about showing them to my Bell. The munchkin doesn’t seem to give a damn, but my pretty Bell will have a goddamn nervous breakdown over a piece of paper because she’s such a fucking drama queen,” Marie rambled on as realization dawned on me.


Bella had told me the other day about how when Isabella had started to come around, it was like she could see another little girl there with her. Standing side by side, playing together…a mirrored image of Bella’s physical form at five years old. So is that how Marie sees her? Is that how Isabella believes she still looks?


I thought back to those pictures. A very small, very adorable Bella with rosy cheeks, big doe chocolate eyes, and soft brown curls that framed her little face perfectly. Then I remembered yesterday morning, when Carlisle had showed Isabella a picture…how she had giggled and immediately pointed to the image of a young Bella in a pink swim suit, telling us all that it was her.


Fucking hell…

Will Bella’s mind never cease to amaze me?


“So how are you likin the lil brat?” Marie asked me again with a raised eyebrow.


I was quick to answer her this time. “Yes…I love her just like I love you, sweetheart. You two are just completely different, so it gives me different experiences when I’m with you guys individually,” I informed her.

She smirked at my somewhat formal sounding answer. “Oh yeah? And how much did you like her last night?”

If I could have blushed, I would have been bright red. I thought that she was referring to me helping her in the bathtub, but she interrupted that train of thought by saying, “Christ, that kid’s got a fucking mouth on her!” she said with a kind of smugness before continuing almost wistfully, “It makes me proud."


“What?” I breathed out, relieved momentarily that Marie wasn't going to bring up bath time.


“When she asked you if you were going to fuck her mouth,” she explained while fighting a smile. “Kodak fucking moment, I swear to God…you should have seen your face,” she said, then let her grin break free.


“Yeah…yeah, that was disturbing,” I muttered with a slight frown. “Wait, you saw that?” I asked, perplexed.

I knew that she was always aware with Bella…but with Isabella too?


Her face grew serious then. “I see everything, Edward,” she said slowly.

I knew that she was just answering my question, but it sort of felt like a warning.


After a few seconds, she added, “And so does Isabella.” Then she laughed a bit. “Yeah, me and the tiny terror can see and hear everything…it’s my Bell that got the short end of the stick on that shitty deal. She’s only around when she’s actually here, ya know? She’s sees what we want her to see,” she said, informing me of what I already knew before she got a contemplative look on her face. “So…wouldn’t that mean that this is more my body, than Bell’s? Seems I have more fucking control over things…” she trailed off thoughtfully.


I knew it was Bella body, but I didn’t know how to explain or respond to that, so I just replied with a shrug and said, “I don’t know, love…”


She shook her head a bit and sighed, then flashed her eyes over to Emmett, who had stayed for our conversation, before looking back to me.

She drank the last of her chocolate milk, before she held out her hand and asked with a devilish smirk, “Can I use your fucking phone, you sexy piece of man candy?”


I was slightly caught off guard by that, but wasn’t about to tell her ‘no’. It was just a phone call, and I was suddenly curious as to who she wanted to call.


“Sure,” I said as I placed my silver phone into her upturned palm.


She flipped it open, dialed some numbers and held it up to her ear. I had to control the waves of jealousy that coursed through me when I heard that mutt’s voice coming through the line. I didn’t think Marie knew I could hear the whole conversation, and I wanted to keep it that way, so I appeared aloof and relaxed as I eavesdropped on her phone call.


“Hey,” he answered breathlessly, panting for air.

Because that’s what dogs do.


“Hey…are…were you masturbating?” she asked, feigning shock, with a that same smirk on her face.


God, kill me now.


He barked out a laugh, because dogs do that too, then replied, “No! I just got back from my run,” he explained.


“Suuuuure,” she replied, implying that she didn’t believe a word of it. “I call early in the morning, and you pick up, breathing all hot n’ heavy into the phone. Jesus Christ, when you answered, I was worried I had accidentally dialed the phone-sex hotline,“ she told him.

He laughed again.


Goddamn it.


“Anyway, come over and play some ball with me,” she said.


"Aw, I can’t…you know how Sam is these days with your precious Cullens back in town,” he said.


“Well, tell Sam to take a break and go get fucking laid already, ‘cause you gotta come play some ball with me,” she suggested.


“Can’t Bells, I’m sorry…” he said, sounding really bummed out while I was internally smiling.


“Goddamn it Jake, it’s me…Marie,” she informed him.


“Okay, well shit…sorry, I can’t Marie,” he repeated.


“It’s ‘cause you fucking suck. What about Seth or Emily or Chelsea or John or Roger or-”


Who the hell are these people? Seth? John? Roger?


“I’ll tell Seth to call you. Hey…I didn’t recognize the caller ID, whose phone are you using?” he asked.


“My Edward’s phone,” she told him with a smile on her face.


"Why are you over there?” he asked with an accusatory tone.


Because she fucking belongs to me.

She got a defiant look on her face. “Because I want to be and I live here. Why? What the fuck is it to you?” she asked with an accusatory tone of her own.


I smiled at her and she saw it, winking at me.


“What about Charlie?” he asked, sounding surprised.


“Charlie can eat a dick. That motherfucker doesn’t give a shit about me, you know that. Ever since he sank his cock into that whore on your reservation, it’s like he doesn’t even have a kid anymore. So. Fuck. Charlie. Anywayyyyssss…..”


“Damn…” he said quietly.


“Whatever,” was Marie’s clever response.


“Look, honey…I gotta go. Sam-” he started but she cut him off.


“Yeah okay, just have Seth call Edward’s phone about playing some ball and while you're at it, tell Sam that I said he can kiss my white, naked ass…motherfucker never lets you have any play time with me anymore,” she said, sounding slightly bummed now.


“Yeah…sorry, again. Call me whenever though, if I don’t answer just leave a message. And I’ll try to make it out there sometime soon…I miss you,” he said.


“Miss you too,” Marie mumbled sadly.


“Bye, missy Marie.”


She giggled. “Bye jackass Jacob.”


He chuckled, then Marie flipped the phone closed and handed it back to me.


“What do you want me to do with this plate?” she asked me.


“Leave it,” I told her, knowing that Esme loved doing things like dishes and laundry.


She shrugged. “Kay,” she muttered, then got up and walked to the door leading out to the garage. She stepped out into the garage, then came back in less than a minute later, holding her basketball on her hip, and walked up to me with a smile. “Wanna play?” she asked, tossing the ball back and forth between her hands, then making it spin in place on her pointer finger while she stared at me, waiting for my reply.


“Sure, babe.”


We went out through the back doors, and Marie immediately started dribbling the ball once we were on the pavement below the hoop that I had set up for her last night. She threw the ball, landing it inside the hoop, then caught the ball and tossed it to me. I dribbled a bit while she walked over to the outdoor stereo system setup by the porch, and turned on the radio, so we had some music to play to. Bow Wow’s ‘Fresh Azimiz’ started flowing through the weather-proof speakers, as I made my shot into the hoop easily. The next song was Katy Perry’s ‘I Kissed A Girl’ and Marie smiled at it, then sang along with a subtle little swing in her hips, but never slowing down her game.


Mmm, she’s so fucking sexy without even trying.


We continued on for the next half hour, just dribbling and shooting hoops…no actual game, and we didn’t speak much, just enjoyed the activity and listened to the radio. Well, she enjoyed the activity, it was just another mundane human thing to me, but I enjoyed watching her enjoy herself. I could tell she liked playing basketball a lot. She was skilled in her dribbling, lay-ups and shooting the far-off shots into the hoop. When her heart rate raised a bit, I could tell that she enjoyed it even more. I knew her muscles would be feeling a slight burn and she would be taking deeper breaths from the slight excursion of the activity. All of this let me know that Marie enjoys exercise. Maybe I could get her a gym membership…or, we could have a home gym installed for her. That would be very beneficial to her health and weight gain goal, and she would love it. I just have to talk to Esme about that possibility…


“What is it?” I heard Isabella’s soft voice ask from beside me, making sure to enunciate all of her T’s as usual.


I turned to see what she was looking at. There was a grasshopper on a bush near Esme’s garden by the house. Isabella was pointing at it and had a curious look on her face. I set the basketball down and walked up by her side.

“Grasshopper,” I answered softly.


“It gonna hurt us?” she asked.


“No, grasshoppers can’t hurt you,” I assured her.


“Bees can,” she informed me.


“I know, they can sting you and that hurts, huh baby?”


“They can kill you when you're lergic like me,” she said.

“You’re allergic to bee stings?” I asked, wondering why I never knew this about Bella before.

I made a mental note to keep her away from the path of every single bee on the planet from now on.


“Uh-huh,” she answered with a nod. “Are you lergic?” she asked me.


“No, baby…I’m not allergic.”


She turned to face me then, and looked up at me. She started sucking on those pink lips and kept on it for twenty-three seconds before she finally asked me what had been on her mind.

“Edward…?” she hedged, slowly.


“Yes, Isabella?”


“Where’s Mommy?” she whispered to me.


Shit…


“She’s out of town sweetheart,” I said the first explanation that came to mind. And it wasn’t really a lie…


“You’re living with me now, is that alright with you?” I asked, making sure she was okay with Bella’s new living arrangement.

Her face lit up with a beaming smile. “Yes!”


I chuckled, but then all too soon, she started sucking on those pretty lips again. When she didn’t speak up after thirty seconds, I gently coaxed, “What is it, baby?”


“Where’s Daddy?” she asked then.

I was proud of how quickly I had reigned in my anger at her innocent question. Just the thought of that fucker sent me into a fury frenzy, making me want to go on a rampage that would put any serial killer to shame.


“Why, sweetheart?” I asked in my smooth, velvet voice, giving nothing away of the anger coursing through my body. The only thing that would give me away right now would be my eyes…I knew that they had turned black.


She shrugged. “He never lets me over to other people’s houses. Is he gonna come get me?” she asked, only slightly masking her fear.


“No, you’re never going to see him again,” I informed her.


She nodded, but I could tell she didn’t believe me from the skeptical look in her eyes and the slight tang of adrenaline that was still present in her heavenly scent.


She walked over to the garden then, and plucked a flower up from the ground. She brought it to her face and smelled it, smiling a little at the scent.

“Isabella, don’t pick anymore flowers…you need to ask Esme before you can play in her garden,” I told her.

“Who’s Esme?” she turned to look up at me, then sat down Indian style where she had been standing.

She kept the flower tight in her grip, probably scared that I would take it away from her.

I mirrored her position, and sat down in front of her so we could talk face to face.

“She’s my mom,” I said, giving her the simple, rehearsed answer I had repeated over the years.


Isabella frowned at that. “Is your mom mean?” she asked.


"No, she’s very nice.”

“She let people hurt you?”

“No, never.”

“Who is your daddy, Edward?” she asked with heavy hesitation.


“Carlisle…he is also your doctor,” I reminded her.


She started sucking on her lips and twirling the flower around in her hand, then quietly muttered, “Ugly yellow hair.”


She sighed then, and shook her head, “Edward, I don’t want a doctor.”


“You need one though, baby.”


“He gonna give me a shot?” she asked with fearful eyes.


“No, no shots.”


“Needles hurt lotts, Edward,” she stressed to me with a serious gaze.


“I know, baby.”


“Edward?”


“Yes, Isabella?”


“Are you the boss of me?” she asked with genuine curiosity.


Heh…how do I answer that?

She should definitely view me as an authority figure…the one and only, as well as her own personal possession…and best friend…and confidant…as well as other things. But ‘boss of her’?

Umm…


I held her curious stare as I started to explain, “Sweetheart…you should definitely listen to me and follow all the rules that I give you. I give them to you with your well-being in mind, because I love you. Very much. And you’ll never be in trouble with anyone but me, if you happen to mess up and break a rule.“ I internally cringed as I said the next part. “Baby…if I ever have to spank you, it’s only to remind you of the rules and why you have them,” I said then, and sighed before I continued. “But…I’m not ‘the boss’, per say…I’m your best friend and you can play with me and talk to me…tell me anything and everything. I’m just your’s. I belong to you and you belong to me. You understand, love?” I asked, unsure if I had explained our complex relationship correctly so that a five year old could understand it.


She nodded. “Mm-hmm…” she hummed, sucking on her bottom lip.


“Edward?”

“Yes, Isabella?”


“Want my chalk…” she said, referring to the bucket of sidewalk chalk in the garage.


I nodded. “Okay, I’ll go get it and be right back,” I told her, then stood up and went inside heading for the garage.


When I came back outside, Isabella wasn’t by the garden anymore, but over by the trampoline. I smiled as I watched her climb up onto it. She crawled on all fours to the center of it, then stood. It was adorable how she gave a hesitant, little baby jump, before she got more comfortable and started jumping for real.


Soon, she was flying high on each bounce and it was making me fucking nervous. The only thing that kept me from yanking her off of the damn thing and making her stay on solid ground, was my knowledge of my vampire speed should anything happen, and the laughter coming from her mouth.

She was having a lot of fun.


A few minutes later, I saw her flip mid-air. And then she did it again. I felt my muscles tensing, but forced myself to calm down, and simply walk closer to the trampoline, so that it appeared as though I was only watching her have fun, when I would actually be calculating how she would land after each and every single bounce.


The music was still playing around the backyard. Avril Lavigne’s ‘Hot’ flowed around us as I approached the side of the trampoline, bucket of chalk in my hand. She smiled down at me and waved, never stopping all that bouncing. I waved back with the hand holding her chalk so she could see it.

She repeated what she had done this morning, folding her legs under herself midair so that she would be in a seated position when she landed. Once her body wasn’t being jostled around anymore by all the bounce vibrations, she giggled and crawled over towards me.


When she got to the edge in front of me, she stood and reached out for me, then said a little breathlessly, “Edward, want down…”


She was too high up though in her standing position, so I suggested, “Bend down a bit, baby…”

She did, and as soon as my hands reached her shoulders, I hooked my hands under them and snatched her off of the trampoline, filled with ridiculous relief that she was off of that death trap now and safe in my arms. She clung to me, so I moved her over to my hip and walked back towards the pavement where Marie and I had played basketball earlier.


I set her back down on her feet, kissed her cheek, and handed her the sidewalk chalk.


“Edward…?”


“Yeah?”


“Can you stay outside with me?” she asked after she knelt down on the hard pavement and opened the bucket.


“Of course, baby. I only ever want to be where you are,” I informed her.


“Kay. Can I have a pop?” she asked hopefully, then selected a blue piece of chalk.


“What flavor?” I asked, remembering that she referred to the flavors as colors, because she didn’t know the proper names for them yet.


Adorable.


“Purple,” she said sweetly and snatched the red chalk out of the bucket, clearly done with the blue now.


“Okay, I’ll be right back with your grape popsicle,” I told her, emphasizing the flavor so that she would hopefully learn the names soon.


I walked back into the house at a leisurely pace, heading for the kitchen. Once I selected a grape freeze pop, I cut the top off with a pair of scissors that we had in a drawer below the counter. I didn’t want the popsicle to make her hand cold, so I wrapped a paper towel around it so she could hang onto that instead of the plastic wrapping outside of the frozen treat.

When I walked back outside, over to Isabella, I slowed my steps at the sound of her voice. She was singing…very softly. Every so fucking softly. The sound was not only adorable with it’s childish tone, but beautiful also. And her left arm was working furiously on her current art project with her sidewalk chalk on the pavement. She had the intense focus expected of any professional artist, and it momentarily fascinated me. Her soft, relaxed voice betrayed her body’s tense and stiff posture though. As I slowly approached her from behind, I got a good look at what she was drawing.

She had used that piece of blue chalk to draw a perfect replica of what a butcher knife would look like, stained and dripping of blood, colored with red chalk. The blood slid down the slope of the weapon and she had little droplets departing from the knife’s sharp tip, falling into a small pool of the red liquid Isabella had located about a foot away from the knife. My eyes widened at the picture as I began to take in the soft accapella song casually lilting from Isabella’s lips.

Let me see

All my life has been

Taken

This demon

Haunts me

They’re waiting

Help me…

You fuck me up

I'm gagged and bound

You pick me up

When I am down

I cannot live without them

I do not live without them

Hey daddy

They are taking me away

Putting things in me

My soul

They’re eating

Please help me…

They carry this thing inside of me

Wants to get out

All it does is scream and shout

I'm trying not to let them out

They tell me to hurt myself

They tell me to hurt myself

They tell me to hurt myself

But I don’t wanna listen

You fuck me up

I'm gagged and bound

You pick me up

When I am down

I cannot live without them

I do not live without them

Hey daddy

They are taking me

This demon…

Something about those lyrics being sung in a child’s voice makes it all the more creepy…


Her voice faded out as she put the red piece of chalk back in the bucket, then she turned to me and smiled, eyeing the freeze pop in my hand and reaching for it. I shook my head a bit to clear my thoughts and walked over to Isabella, choosing to sit by her and talk about this…very disturbing picture and song.

I gave her the most reassuring smile that I could at the moment, considering the conversation we were about to have, and mentally geared myself up for the unavoidable intensity of it.

My main thing was, that while I was usually shocked by the last few things that had happened with Isabella, she was the picture of casual and calm, clearly communicating that she was used to all of this chaos. Her normalcy consisted of torture and sexual innuendoes and racial slurs. It's very normal for her because it's all she's ever known.

So…for this to go well, I would need to act casual and calm too. No matter how awkward or uncomfortable I really felt inside. If she saw that I was okay having these discussions with her, then they would happen more often and her trust in me would build.

I took a deep breath, inconspicuously pulling her savory scent into my lungs, and let my burning throat relax me.

Okay, here goes…

“Isabella…” I said softly, while I offered her the frozen stick of sugar that she seemed to be addicted to.

She shyly took it from my hand and immediately brought it to her mouth. “Hmm?” she hummed around her popsicle.

“Tell me about that song you were singing, baby…you have a very pretty voice,” I added quickly, figuring a compliment wouldn’t hurt in trying to loosen her tongue.

“I hear it in our head lotts. It’s a song on one of Bella's music thingys. It’s one of my favorites,” she informed me with a smile then licked her popsicle again.

I nodded at this new information. I would have to research more of Bella’s music collection in the future.

“Do you talk to Bella alot, baby?”

She shook her head and looked very sad all of a sudden. “We use’da be bestest friends, but Mommy didn’t like me playin with her anymore. So she sent us to a doctor, like your daddy…and he told Bella to make me go away,” she mumbled as her eyes started to glisten with unshed tears.

She sniffled. “And now Bella’s all growed-up, and…I’m not,” she said with a little whimper as she started to cry.

I sighed, knowing that that was exactly what Carlisle was going to try to do.

“Sorry, baby…” I said sympathetically, then wrapped my hands around her waist to lift her up and bring her over to sit in my lap.

 She cuddled into my chest and kissed my cheek before sniffling. “Don’t want a doctor, Edward…” she whined, repeating what she had earlier.

“I know, baby,” I said quietly and rocked her a little, sitting in our position.

I didn’t know what to tell her, and I…I sort of didn’t want her to go away, now that she was here. I didn’t want Marie to disappear, either.

Well, shit.

After she let three teardrops fall, she brought her popsicle back to her lips with one last sniffle. “You think I sing pretty?” she asked adorably.

I kissed her forehead and murmured against her warm flesh, “Yes, I do baby,” I agreed lightly.

She giggled and lifted her head from my shoulder. She looked at me with amusement in her eyes, then suddenly gave my nose a very gentle Eskimo kiss, giggling again afterwards.

I smiled back at her as she started to suck on her pretty little lips while fighting an adorable smile. I Eskimo kissed her back and murmured softly, “My silly baby girl…”

When our noses parted, she giggled again and my ears loved the tinkling sounds of it. It was officially their new favorite noise. She bit off a piece of popsicle quickly, then gave me another Eskimo kiss with a bright smile on her face. I took advantage of our position then, and started lightly tickling her sides, to which she reacted with more laughter and giggles, trying half-heartedly to avoid my fingers. When I could tell she was out of breath from her laughter, I finally stopped, but she kept that bright smile on her face as she cuddled back into my chest.

“Edward, you’re mine…” she reminded me softly once her breathing had calmed down.

“Yes, and you are mine,” I agreed.

She nodded in response and I figured that it was time to get back to her picture. Her popsicle was just about gone now, so I waited until she was through to bring it up. She sucked on the last bite and chewed it up, swallowed, then started occupying her fingers by rolling up the protective plastic casing the popsicle had come in.

“Baby…?” I started hesitantly.

I really didn’t want to ruin the mood, but…I just had to.

“Huh?”

“Why did you draw that?” I asked gently, while nodding my head in the direction of her picture.

She glanced at it, then looked back at me. “It’s the purity knife, Edward. Daddy…umm...” she started, but paused, furrowing her brow.

After a minute, I gently prodded, “Go on, baby.”

“Daddy uses it when I’m bad, b’cuz I got kike evils in me that made me do the bad stuff. Umm…” she hesitated, clearly trying to find the words to explain.

I fought back my impatience and horror of her inevitable explanation, as she eventually continued on. “I gotta bleed,” she said finally. “See, when I’m bad, Daddy gets the purity knife and makes me bleed out all of my evils, yeah…they go out through my bleedin and screamin. And then, when my blood stops and I’m done crying ‘bout my new owwies, then I’m pure again. Yeah. B'cuz it’s the purity knife,” she explained casually.

She added with a raised eyebrow, “It was made just me for me, did you know that?”

I shook my head sadly…I just didn’t have any energy left to be angry anymore. Sad was all I had left at the moment. Sad that it happened. Sad that she was brainwashed. Sad that nobody had protected her from a monster. Sad that she lost herself enough in her explanation to say that fucking ‘kike’ word again, but…I’m not going to say anything. I’ll let it slip just this once. Right now, I just want to hold and comfort her, not scold and punish her.

“Yeah…he made it for me so he could help me get pure for my mommy,” she explained further, before she asked, “Edward?”

I sighed and tried not to let my emotions show on my face. Anger, regret, shock, sadness, helplessness…

“Yeah, baby?”

“Do you got one?” she asked me, looking into my eyes, no doubt wanting to immediately search for the truth in what I would say next.

Do I fucking have one??

That question disgusted me because it goes back to Isabella’s expectations for me to beat her for spilling some fucking milk…spank her with a goddamn hairbrush…fuck her mouth for whining.

Goddamn it!

I have to calm down and reign in the anger that had decided to show it’s face after all. I pulled in deep breaths of her scent quickly, so I could remain calm and answer her as soon as possible.

“No, baby…no I don’t have one and I would never do that to you,“ I assured her.

“What your daddy did was very wrong, very wrong,” I emphasized.

“He was sick and he didn’t see that he didn’t need to be so cruel and heartless with you because you are already ‘pure’, Isabella,” I explained.

“Everything that he did to you was wrong, and it will never happen again, and you will never see that monster again. Do you understand?” I said…maybe a too forcefully.

She kept her wide-eyed gaze on me and nodded.

“You are mine, and nobody will ever touch you,” I all but hissed out, my protective and possessive instincts I have over my mate becoming uncontrollable at the moment.

Her eyes became guarded. “Edward, you mad?” she asked.

I nodded, not able to trust my voice because I had just fucking hissed at my five year old.

Awesome, and you’re new parenting skills just keep getting better, and better…dumbass.

Her facial expression became worried then, and she sniffled. “At me?” she squeaked out as her bottom lip began to tremble.

My eyes widened at the thought of her thinking that.

I shook my head quickly and said, “No.”

I cradled her to my chest and stuck my nose in her hair, continually and methodically breathing in her scent. When I knew my voice wouldn’t be so rough anymore, I spoke again.

“No, baby…I’m not mad at you. Never mad at you…” I murmured against the side of her neck.

“Then who?” she whispered in my ear.

I swallowed some venom, then said, “Your daddy,” clarifying it for her.

She pushed away from my chest a little then, so that she could look at my face. She sucked on her pouty bottom lip and caressed my cheek as I felt my hardened features soften under her warm, gentle touch. She made eye contact with me and allowed me to immerse myself in her beautiful chocolate depths.

She nodded sadly and said, “Me too.”