Felicity
For a moment, we stared at each other. Jacob's face went through an array of emotions, but mostly he seemed relieved. I wondered if he knew the answers to all the strange things I'd been noticing. Like Rosalie's use of the word humans and her and Esme's abnormal strength. Then again, if anything that had happened in the last few hours was to be believed, then Jacob was...a werewolf.
Nope. I stopped my thoughts right there. Now was so not the time to dwell on that. I was out of that house, away from Dr. Cullen, and for now I was going to relish my luck. Surely it was time to count those lucky stars, yes?
Jacob stepped forward, bridging the gap to stand right in front of Rosalie and me. He seemed hesitant once he got there, unsure what to do.
"Well?" Rosalie said. "She's yours, right? Take her."
Jacob pulled in a deep breath, his chest visibly lifting. "Is she okay?"
I was too busy staring at Jacob to see but I guessed Rosalie rolled her eyes. Her voice was definitely full of attitude when she said, "Ask her. She's literally right in front of you. Pull your head out of your ass and take her, then talk to her."
"Hate to say it," Paul's voice said from a few feet away and I flinched. I hadn't noticed him there. "But the vamp is right. Take her and let's go." He smiled at me. "Glad you're back, doll."
Maybe I smiled back. Maybe my lips just twitched. Either way, I tried and that was all the response he was getting because I decidedly needed a nap. A long one.
"Okay," Jacob murmured. He reached forward, trying to grab me as gently as possible. Rosalie wasn't patient with him, though. She practically dropped me in his arms, and I huffed a little as I was jarred. Hopefully after I got my nap I wouldn't be so sore—but I didn't get my hopes up. It'd probably take days at the very least to feel better. Still, a girl could dream.
Rosalie said, "We'll talk to Carlisle. Either we'll leave or he'll back off, but we definitely won't bother you again. You should keep a better eye on your people anyway. Step it up, pups." Then she turned around and...disappeared. Just like Esme had. The Cullens clearly were not normal.
Neither Jacob nor Paul seemed surprised at Rosalie vanishing. Apparently they were used to such behavior? Not that I should have been shocked at this. They were—
No. Not now. Now was not the time.
Now I was cradled in Jacob's arms and he was looking down at me, his expression conflicted. "Felicity," he breathed. "Are you okay?"
I frowned. What kind of a question was that? "I'm sore. And I'm tired. I need a nap."
Paul laughed. "I think we can arrange that."
Jacob cut a glare Paul's way. "Sore? What did they do to you?"
My mind ran over what had happened at the Cullen residence. The run of the mill tests that were mostly innocuous but I knew once they sunk in that later I'd feel invaded. Then the pain...the logic of which still confounded me. But my stomach was currently stitched up. I'd have a scar. I'd somehow almost forgotten that had happened—in all the soreness, that particular pain didn't currently stand out. I remembered now, my face drawing tight.
"Maybe now isn't the time for that," Paul said quietly.
"Yeah," I croaked. "Nap first. Can I talk later?" I peered up at Jacob, my gaze probably pleading.
Jacob wasted no time nodding. "Yes. Yes, of course. Later. For now, let's get you to Sam's house. We can get you comfortable there."
Quickly, I shook my head, ignoring how the movement hurt. "No. I want to go home."
His brows rose. "We'll be able to take better care of you at Sam and Emily's. That's where everyone will be, and—"
"No," I repeated, more firmly this time. I wasn't sure how I felt about the werewolf revelation, and until I could process it all and talk to Jacob about it I didn't want to be surrounded by them. Because if Sam and Paul changed into wolves, then their closest friends had to also, right? That was a reasonable conclusion. Not that I wanted to be making any conclusions at present. "Please. I just want to go home. I'll nap in my own bed. Please."
Jacob's arms tightened around me and his tone sounded choked as he said, "Yes. Anything. We'll take you home right now." He started walking. Since we were still in the middle of the woods, I had no idea where we were going. Or where we were, exactly. Not that it mattered—Jacob clearly knew where he was going.
Paul followed us, eyeing Jacob and me with concern. For probably the first time since he learned how to speak, however, Paul didn't say anything.
After a few minutes of walking, we exited the trees and there, lo and behold, was Jacob's Volkswagen. Paul strode ahead of us and opened the door. Jacob tucked me into the seat carefully, reaching over my lap and buckling me up. Once he'd done that, I settled down in the seat. I felt like we were at a point where I could relax. I was away from the Cullen house, out of the woods, and safe in Jacob's car. Jacob and Paul were standing right outside the car chatting.
I was okay.
I could rest now.
So I closed my eyes, breathed in. Breathed out.
And I relaxed.
***
Jacob
She was okay. She was here and she was in one piece and she was okay.
Well, maybe not completely. She said she was sore. I had no idea what the bloodsuckers had done to her, but based on her face when I'd asked, it couldn't have been good. Not that I'd expect anything they did to be good. She was sore and skittish, in a sluggish way.
"We won't know anything until she gets some rest, gets her head together, and tells us," Paul said in a low voice as we stood outside my Rabbit.
"Something isn't right, though. It's not just me overreacting?" I asked, needing reassurance. I couldn't mess this up. My imprint needed me, and she needed me with a level head. I couldn't let my worry cloud my judgement.
Paul shook his head. "Obviously something's wrong. But what I'm saying is she'll be alright. Give her time."
I sighed. He was right. I hated that he was—why did he get to be reasonable? Why couldn't I be that way? Instead, I was shaky and my breath kept trying to come too fast. My heart felt like it was going to pound out of my chest. I adored my imprint, but this sucked. Big time. Then again, she wasn't exactly enduring a walk in the park right now either. I needed to stop thinking about me and start focusing on her. "Okay. I'll take her to your apartment. You riding along or are you going to shift and run?"
He snorted. "I'm in the car with you. No way you'll be able to keep it together alone."
"Whatever," I said because he was right.
We went to get in the car and I froze, standing inside my open door.
Felicity was in her seat, eyes closed. I watched her for a second, waiting...her chest rose and fell. She was breathing. She was okay. She'd just gotten a head start on that nap she'd asked for. I could deal with that. Actually, it was good.
Good.
She was okay, she was sleeping, and it was good.
Leaving my thoughts at that, I climbed into the car and turned the key in the ignition. The ride to Felicity's place was silent. Mostly I was too focused on listening to her breathe to try making conversation. There were things that needed to be done—someone had to call Sam and give him an update, the Cullens needed to be checked on since I didn't trust that blonde leech as far as I could throw her, we probably needed a doctor or something to come and check up on Felicity because spirits only knew what could possibly be wrong with her after her ordeal... My mind was spinning with the list.
But for now, the forefront of it all was occupied with my imprint. Right next to me. Breathing.
When we parked, Paul got out and went ahead of us, opening doors and pulling down the covers on her bed so I could nestle her in easily. Even after she was tucked in snug as a bug I kneeled beside the bed and watched her sleep. Watched her chest rise and fall.
It wasn't until Paul hissed quietly at me to stop being a creepy fuck that I pulled myself away from her bedside, instead locating myself in her living room. Where, naturally, I paced.
"Have you called Sam?" I asked, hoping we had one thing we could cross off our list of shit to do.
"Yeah. Told him she needed some privacy for a few. Everyone else will keep their distance for now. He also sent Jared and Embry to check up on the Cullens," he said their name with a sneer. "To make sure they were sticking to their word."
I raised a brow. "And?"
Paul shrugged. "Apparently there was nothing. No vamps, no trails, nothing. Just slowly fading stench."
"So they ran," I concluded.
"Looks like it," Paul agreed.
"What a loss." My voice was monotone.
Paul smiled. "They will be greatly missed."
A small smile took over my lips for a brief moment before evening back out. "I hope they didn't leave Charlie hanging this time like they did when they stole Bella away to Italy. I'm beyond caring what she does, but Charlie..."
Paul rolled his eyes. "Sucks for him and all, but I can't find it in me to give a rat's ass right now."
My mouth twitched. "Understandable."
He smirked at me. "And how are you holding it together enough to worry about your ex's dad? Felicity is your imprint, you know."
"She's breathing," I said to him firmly, refusing to let him get me riled up. "We have her and she's safe. She's asleep in her bed. I can have some peace of mind."
"Whatever."
Paul turned the TV on and neither of us talked much after that. We took turns peeking in on Felicity to check that she was alright, even though we both had strong enough hearing to know she was safe and calm in her slumber just a room away. For hours we watched TV, kept tabs on Felicity, and ate our way through nearly everything in the kitchen.
She slept for so long Paul was getting antsy and I was wondering if I should have been worried.
But then she woke up. She did it quietly, with a soft sigh as she rolled out of bed and took a trip to the bathroom. By the time she exited the room, Paul and I were waiting impatiently outside the door.
"Oh!" she exclaimed with a flinch as she saw us standing there. "Make some noise, will you?"
"Are you okay?" I asked, unable to wait any longer. I knew she'd been through a lot and needed time, but I'd been patient all through her very long nap and now I was desperately seeking answers.
A low breath hissed out of her mouth. She bit her lip. "Let's go sit down before I get into all of this." Then she led the way to the living room, seating herself in a chair.
Paul and I took places on the couch, our eyes intent on her.
"So obviously you know that Dr. Cullen took me?" she said.
I nodded and Paul said, "Yes, but what did he do to you, doll?"
She wouldn't meet either of our eyes, but she told us. Everything. From when the two showed up and stole her from work, to the extremely invasive exams Dr. Cullen did on her, and finally to the pain test. It was at that point that she started to tremble.
I couldn't sit there and watch her shake without trying to soothe her. So I walked over to where she sat, lifted her, and sat down, settling her on my lap. My arms wrapped around her, tightly so she'd feel she was safe. I'd let not a single thing hurt her. Never again.
But at my embrace, she winced. Just a little, but with how closely I was watching her I saw.
"What?" I asked, borderline frantic. "What's wrong?"
Her lips twisted unhappily. "The pain test. He cut me open to see if you'd feel it. And...well. Look." She pulled up her shirt to show her stomach.
My stomach heaved at the sight.
Stitches stretched across her stomach in a long, neat line.
"Why?" I choked out.
She shrugged. "I'm your imprint. I'm not sure what that means, but he said he wanted to test how imprints worked. I was his guinea pig."
I stared at her, both shocked and horrified. "Imprints—"
"Stop," she said, holding up a hand. "I don't want any explanations. I don't want to talk about it. I need to process first. But now you know everything that happened. You can pass it along to Sam and whoever and I can relax and thing and try really hard not to freak out."
I didn't know what to say, but Paul snorted. "I think you're allowed a freak out, doll."
She smiled at him. "Doesn't mean I want to have one, Paulie."
He grinned.
I was still speechless.
"Now," she said, wriggling to get out of my lap, "I think I want to try to eat something. Not sure I'll be able to keep anything down, but I'm so hungry I'm willing to try." Not waiting for a response, she strode toward the kitchen.
A moment of silence filled the room before Paul snorted again. "Your imprint, man. She's something else."
I had no idea how she would react once she did her processing, but I couldn't help but be proud that she seemed to be aiming for rationality in this fucked up situation. And hell if Paul wasn't right. "Yeah," I said, my voice low and warm as I got to my feet to follow her. "She really is."