The Breakers - Chapter 3

~~~~OOO~~~~OOO~~~~

Chapter 3

BPOV

Wind is whipping all around me, fat raindrops soaking me to the bone. It's pitch black and I can hear thunder rumbling overhead. A flash of lightning illuminates the night sky and the ocean around me. The white-capped waves are rocking the boat so roughly I can barely keep my balance. My fingers grip the railing so tightly I can barely feel them. I look frantically, racing from one side of the boat to the other, searching for any sign of him.

"Bella!" he cries out for me, but I can't see him. "Help me!"

"Where are you?" I yell, trying with all my might to find him in the water.

"Help me, Bella. I can't hang on much longer," I hear and his voice is fading.

Waves come one right after the other and I know I only have seconds to save him.

"I can't see you! Tell me where you are!" I scream and feel my heart race when I still can't find him.

"Please, Bella! Save … !" he cries out one last time. I strain my ears, desperate for even the faintest sound but there is nothing. The silence that rings out is more deafening than the storm that rages.

All I hear is the wind screaming and the clang of the buoy as it rocks in the distance. I stand there, unmoving.

He's gone and it's all my fault.

Gasping, I sit up and wildly look around my room. It takes me a moment to catch my breath and for my heart to feel like it's not trying to claw its way out of my throat.

"Jesus," I mutter and run a shaky hand through my riotous hair.

I haven't had that nightmare in forever and it throws me for a second as I wonder why now?

I know there's no chance in hell I'm going back to sleep, so I untangle myself from the sheets and slide out of bed. My legs are rubbery and a small army of angry butterflies is trying to beat its way out of my stomach as I stand up. I wrap a tie around my hair and when the air from the ceiling fan hits my damp skin, I shiver and goosebumps instantly appear. Glancing at my bed, I grab the blanket off the end.

Wrapped up in the blanket, I pad down the hall so I can check on Peyton. Opening her door, I smile as I see my little girl sprawled out in the middle of her bed, the book she was reading still clutched in her hand. Just like her mama, I muse with a proud grin and tiptoe into her room. I slip her knee back beneath the sheet and set the book on the nightstand. Tucking the covers beneath her chin, I bend over and kiss the side of her head before running my hand through her hair.

The moon shines brightly in her room, as if bathing her in its glow. Sighing, I stare at her for a minute or two … she's the very best part of me … before I make my way downstairs.

As soon as I make myself a cup of very strong coffee, I grab my journal and walk out the front door and curl up in my favorite chair in the corner of my porch. I can hear the ocean, the waves rhythmically breaking along the beach. I can smell the brine in the air, the scent as familiar as the way my dad smells after a long day out on the water, and it calms the last bit of my nerves like nothing else can. Funny how the one thing that scares me more than anything also has the power to soothe my soul.

I let my hands warm up by wrapping them around the mug and then fold my legs beneath me, resting my head against the back of the wicker chair. I should write down my nightmare but I know it won't do any good. I've had that same horrible dream off and on over the past seven years and it's always the same.

It's always my fault and I can't ever save him.

Sighing I push those thoughts to the back of my mind, knowing full well they'll be back again, and go over a mental list of things I have to do today. Peyton only has a few days left of school before summer vacation starts and today they're having outdoor game day so I need to make sure she has her tennis shoes and doesn't go to school in her flip-flops. My daughter, seven going on seventeen, would wear flip-flops every day of the year if I let her. For someone as athletic as she is, you'd think she'd live in her tennis shoes as often as she's outside playing soccer, football, or racing all the boys down the beach, but no, flip-flops are her footwear of choice. Figuring there are a lot more pressing things than arguing about her shoes, I usually let her have her way.

Truth be told, Peyton Renée Swan gets her way just about all the time. Between her Pop Charlie, her Nana Renée, and her Uncle Emmett, not to mention Xavier, Rose, Alice, Jasper, and everyone else she comes in contact with, my daughter can probably count on two hands the number of times she's ever been told no in her life. Thankfully for all of us she doesn't use her mega-watt smile or her killer powers of persuasion for evil, because she could in a heartbeat. Instead, my little girl is one of the most outgoing, sweet, and gentle kids you'll ever meet. Admittedly, I'm a bit biased, but I know it's true nonetheless.

As a single mom it's so hard sometimes worrying about whether or not she's missing out on certain things, but watching her every day I know she's as well-adjusted as any other seven-year-old. She has her moments where she's definitely my daughter and she frustrates me to the point of wanting to pull my hair out, but there isn't a day that goes by that she doesn't know she's loved beyond measure.

I take a sip of my coffee and close my eyes as the hot, strong liquid works its magic. I'm not a huge fan of the stuff, give me a Coke poured over a full glass of ice any day, but I know we're going to be busy at the restaurant today. We're always busy truth be told, so I'll need to be wide awake. The Breakers is the most popular restaurant on the Gouldsboro Peninsula and people come from miles around to eat breakfast, lunch, and dinner. The restaurant has been in my family for generations; my great-grandfather opened it when my grandfather was just a baby.

I love the restaurant; I've grown up in the place, and from the time I could walk, have spent at least a part of everyday inside of it. It's as much home to me as my parents' house or my own is. My mom and I, along with Rose, Alice, and Xavier run it while my dad, Charlie, my brother, Emmett, and Jasper work on the lobster boat, the Isabella Marie, which provides all of the seafood we cook. When you walk into The Breakers and order fresh Maine lobster, chances are it's just been brought in … fresh really means fresh in Corea.

The restaurant, the boat, the water … it's all I've ever known. I might be a girl from a small town that lives a simple life surrounded by family and friends, but I'm not simple nor has my life been easy. Like anyone else, I have hopes and dreams, and though my life hasn't turned out like I imagined it would, I'm content.

I can't say I'm happy because I know there are things missing, things I'm not sure I'll ever have, and I've come to accept that. Since Peyton was born it's been just the two of us. I watch my parents, Em and Rose, Jasper and Alice ... even Xavier and Seth, and resign myself to the fact that my chance at the happiness they each share with the one they love might never come along.

My daughter's my sole reason for living and as long as she's happy, then I'm good with that. There are a lot worse ways to go through life than with a daughter you love and a family you wouldn't trade for anything. I'm lucky in so many ways and thinking about what I don't have doesn't do anyone any good.

"Mama," Peyton mumbles through a yawn as she pushes the door open and pokes her head out.

Her cheek has wrinkles from where she's hugged her pillow, her eyes are still sleepy, and her hair is a wild mess in the ponytail that hangs off the side of her head, but she makes my heart leap in my chest. Without saying a word, I scoot over on the oversized chair and pat the spot next to me. She smiles at me and then skips across the porch before she curls up beside me, laying her head on my shoulder. Her presence is the balm to the thoughts of all I've lost and might never have and I gently kiss the top of her head. She smells like fresh air, clean laundry, and the coconut-lime shampoo she makes me buy in bulk every time we go to stock up on supplies. Smiling, I wrap my arm around her shoulder, pull her close to me, and relish the closeness we share. Together we watch the sunrise and I think to myself, things could definitely be a lot worse.

~~~~OOO~~~~OOO~~~~

"Peyton, breakfast is ready!" I holler up the stairs and chuckle when I hear her thunder down then huff about halfway before she turns around and goes back up. Once she makes it to the table, I slide a plate of eggs and bacon in front of her, grinning. "Forgot your tennis shoes, didn't you?" I tease and grin even wider when she rolls her eyes at me.

Normally rolling eyes is a big no-no but I let it slide this time because I teased her first and turn around to get my own plate. Right as I'm about to sit down, I hear the banging of the screen door as it's slammed open. I don't even have to look; I already know who it is.

"Xav, your plate is already fixed," I say loudly and shake my head when he comes barreling into the kitchen like he hasn't already eaten.

I know for a fact that he's been up for hours preparing for the morning rush at the restaurant. In a fishing town, breakfast comes hours before the sun even thinks about rising.

"Thanks, Bell," he says and kisses the top of my head before doing the same to Peyton's.

Just like he's done almost every morning since Peyton was born.

"So, Pipsqueak, how many more days of school do you have left?" he asks around a huge bite of eggs and though I want to tell him to mind his manners, same as I would Peyton, I bite my tongue knowing it'll go in one ear and out the other, just like it does every morning.

She grunts, pretending that she hates the nickname, though everyone knows she secretly loves it, and takes a drink of her juice before she answers him. "Three. Today's game day. I'm going to challenge Brody to a race when it's time for the running games. He's so stupid. He keeps telling me girls can't run faster than boys and he calls me a liar when I tell him I can beat Uncle Emmett," she tells him with a scowl on her face. The sound of her flip-flop slapping against her foot as she shakes it indicates just how aggravating she finds the whole situation.

Telling Peyton that girls can't do something boys can do is like waving a red flag in front of a bull. All it does is make her try twice as hard … as evidenced by the fact that she can indeed beat my older brother in a race. He gave up pretending to lose when she turned six; he hasn't been able to beat her since, much to everyone's amusement.

Xavier smirks at me over the top of her head and I have to hide my smile behind my hand. "Just remember what I told you, P. When you run, pump your elbows and time your breathing."

As much as Peyton hates losing, to a boy especially, Xavier hates it for her even more. Competition's a very serious matter in the Swan family and she's been brought up with a very, sometimes too very, healthy amount of it flowing through her veins. She nods her head at him like he's just told her the secret way to find Santa Claus, though for my girl, beating a boy, especially Brody, at anything is way better than Christmas any day.

"Xavier, why are boys so dumb all the time?" she asks and tips her head to the side while she waits for him to impart some great wisdom upon her.

At her question, I clamp my mouth shut, grab the dishes off the table, and hurry into the kitchen. Leaning on the counter I can't help but laugh as I hear my best friend try to explain how little boys sometimes act like they hate you but they really like you to which Peyton reiterates her belief that boys are dumb before going to brush her teeth so we can go to school.

"Jesus, Bella, way to leave me hanging there!" he gripes at me as he leans over the breakfast bar and watches as I load the dishwasher.

"Sorry," I airily tell him, though we both know I'm totally not. "You handled it just fine if it makes you feel any better. So well, in fact, that when she starts asking me why her boobs aren't growing as fast as everyone else's, I'm sending her to you. So thanks, big guy, you totally saved me from having to have that conversation with her," I tell him as I pat him on top of his bald head.

Keeping a straight face is damned near impossible, but somehow I manage - at least until the poor guy looks like he can't decide if he wants to cry or laugh. Not to mention the fact that his eyes have bugged out of his head so far that I'm surprised they're still in the socket.

"How can you even talk about P getting … boobs?" he whispers and looks around like it's dirty word and no one can hear him say it.

This time I do laugh, laugh until there are tears falling down my face, and it takes me a minute to catch my breath. When I've finally gotten myself under enough control to talk I say, "You've known her since the day she was born, you idiot. You've changed her diaper, bathed her … even taken her to the bathroom with you, and you can't even say the word boobs? What the hell are you going to do when it comes time to have 'the talk'" I ask using air quotes, "or, when she has her period for the first time?"

He's shaking his head before I can even finish and the look on his face is priceless. It's a mixture between the mortification of imagining her old enough to think about either of those things, fear as to what she could ask him when the time comes because the possibilities are endless, and his unconditional love for my daughter.

The bond between Peyton and Xavier is strong and deep. Anyone that doesn't know the circumstances behind it wouldn't understand, but I don't care. There isn't anyone alive, save for my parents and my brother, that I would trust my daughter's well-being with more than the man across from me and that will never change.

Not ever.

I open my mouth to say something totally mushy but I'm saved by Peyton's rush to get to the front door. Grabbing my keys and my purse, I lock up the house and we're off. As we climb into Xavier's Avalanche, I give my bright red 1975 Blazer a longing look. I don't get to drive my baby anywhere near often enough and it makes me sad to think about my gorgeous vehicle parked in my driveway day in and day out. Xavier picks Peyton and me up almost every morning and we drop her off at school before we go to the restaurant. She comes there after school, stays through dinner, and then he brings us back home only to repeat the same process the next day.

"We'll take Cherry out soon so stop your damn pouting," he tells me and I roll my eyes at him … making sure Peyton can't see me from the backseat.

Little Miss loves to catch me doing something I'm not supposed to; it's one of her favorite things to do.

"Bye, Mama. Bye, Xavier," she says as she shoots out of the backseat when we pull up in front of her school. Once she spies Brody and some of the other boys and girls from her class standing outside the front door of her school, she runs toward them only turning around to give me a quick wave.

I sigh and shake my head thinking sometimes it would be nice if she wasn't so independent and then stop that train of thought in its tracks because I realize I'm being selfish. As much as it makes me feel good to be needed by her, and deep down I know she'll always need me, I'm so proud of the person she's growing up to be.

As soon as we take off from the school Xavier says, "You had a nightmare last night."

He doesn't say it like he's not sure, he knows I have, so I don't even try to lie to him. It never works anyway.

I shrug my shoulders, but don't answer him. We've been over this too many times to count and I don't feel like rehashing it again this morning.

Apparently, he has a different idea because he turns to look at me. "Bella," he says in a tone that's half exasperated and half worried, the way it always is when this topic comes up. "When are you going to let it go?"

Again, I don't say anything, mostly because I don't have an answer to his question though he already knows that, too. I wish I did, Lord knows I do, but I just don't … not yet and probably not ever.

"Don't," I tell him sharply when he sighs at me.

I don't need another lecture. Even though he knows what I'm feeling better than anyone, there are things he won't ever understand.

He doesn't say anything until we pull up in front of the restaurant, and when he parks the car, he doesn't move to get out so I don't either.

"I love you, and I love Peyton as much as if she were my own," he says. As I open my mouth to tell him I already know that, he shuts me up with a look. "You're going to have to learn how to let go of what happened or else you'll never be truly happy. Peyton deserves to have you at your best and though no one could ever accuse you of not putting her needs in front of your own, she's not stupid. One day, whether it's tomorrow, next month, or a year from now, she's going to realize what you're doing and with as smart as she is, she's going to know why … and then she's going to blame herself."

His words are a punch to the stomach. Immediately any fight I have in me disappears and I bend forward at my waist. I've had the same thought before, but to hear it out loud makes my blood grow cold and my stomach twist into a tight knot.

I feel my eyes instantly fill with tears. Normally I'd wipe them away as fast as they appear, because I don't let anyone see me cry, but I can't find the will to brush them away. They fall down my face and the warm, salty water sears my skin.

"Ah, hell," I hear Xavier curse beneath his breath, and the next thing I know his big arms are wrapped tightly around me as I let myself cry the tears that I've held inside since my nightmare.

As I cry and shake in his arms, I wonder when the pain and the guilt will go away. It's always there - every minute of every day. I go through the motions of living; I try for Peyton and Xavier. I try for Em and Rose, my parents and everyone else - but I'm so tired.

Always so damn tired.

I'm tired of the guilt. I'm tired of the nightmares … I'm tired of being alone.

"Shhh, Bell," Xavier says softly and I feel him kiss the top of my head and then rub his cheek against my hair over and over again while he runs his hand up and down my back.

I sniff a few times and like the brat I know I can be, purposely wipe my nose on his shirt. That's what he gets for making me cry first thing in the morning anyway.

Jerk.

I know he worries … more than anyone, but that's just because he knows me better than I know myself most of the time. Sometimes I kind of hate that because it means I can't hide anything … ever.

With one last deep breath, I decide I've cried long enough and wriggle out of his arms. Climbing out of the truck before he even notices I'm gone, I wait for him to find the snot I've wiped on his shirt.

"Damn it, Bella, that's fucking gross!" he yells at me and follows me into the back door of the restaurant.

I throw my purse down on the counter and casually reach for my apron before turning around to look at him. His arms are crossed over his broad chest, the navy blue t-shirt with the restaurant's logo plastered on the front stretched tight. He stares at me, arching his eyebrow, waiting for an apology that won't ever come.

You'd really think he'd know better by now.

"Don't you have anything to say?"

I hear snickering from beside me and flash Rose and Alice a quick smile before turning back to him. "Yeah, I think you have something on your shirt," I tell him cheekily and then like the twenty-seven year-old mother I am, stick my tongue out at him when he growls at me.

He whips his shirt off without thinking twice about it, and grabs another one from the cabinet, mumbling under his breath the whole time.

"Bella, why does my head cook look like he could make today's lobster with the steam coming out of his ears?" Mom asks me as she walks in and surveys the scene in front of her.

I try to play innocent and shrug my shoulders, but I know she won't buy my act any more than she has the countless times I've tried the same thing before.

"Bella," Mom groans and Rose and Alice take that opportunity to let loose the laughs they've been trying to stifle since Xavier and I walked in.

He humphs behind me and I swear I hear him mutter something about paybacks being a bitch, but I don't pay any attention to his empty threats. We both know our bickering back and forth is just what we do.

"How was the rush this morning?" I turn to my two friends and ask.

Because I have to get Peyton ready in the morning, I don't come in until after she goes to school and then I work through the dinner rush. Like me, she spends as much time at the restaurant as we do at home. She's grown up with it since the day she was born and it'll be the way it is until she's old enough to go on to bigger and better things … like I was supposed to, until fate had other plans for me.

"Same old, same old," Alice tells me and we begin prepping for lunch.

Alice and Jasper moved to Corea about four years ago and we've been friends since the first day she arrived. They came from Texas saying that they were looking for a change of scenery. It was obvious from the get-go that it was more than that, and once we'd all gotten to know them better, we found out that a bad situation with Jasper's dad was the push they'd needed to get a fresh start in a new place. The second Alice walked into the restaurant, it was as if Rose and I had known her as long as we'd known each other and Jasper had taken to the water like he'd been born and raised on it. He gets along great with my dad and Emmett and I love him as much as if he is my flesh and blood. They just fit, and it's hard at times to remember they've only lived here a few short years.

Rose grew up in Corea and she and Emmett have been inseparable since they were in kindergarten. They're two years older than me, which as an adult is nothing, but growing up in their shadow, feeling like a third wheel, was hard at times, even though they never made me feel that way. Rose's parents owned the local grocery store until they sold it when she and Emmett got married right after high school. They retired to Florida and only see Rose once a year … if that much, and that's only if Rose meets them while they're in New York City in between visits to the opera and Broadway shows. How they managed to have a daughter like Rose, who is just as comfortable in jeans and tennis shoes as she is in an evening gown and heels, is beyond me.

She's been a part of my family for as long as I can remember, but when she and Emmett got married, she truly became my sister in every way. I love her more than I can ever tell her and when I was pregnant with Peyton at the age of nineteen, she was beside me every step of the way. I don't know what I would've done without her then … and again later when my life changed forever.

Corea is made up of life-longers, like my family, and those that come and never leave, like Jasper, Alice, and Xavier. Small town life, especially along the Atlantic Ocean where the winters can be brutal and your life revolves around the water and the bounty it provides, isn't for everyone, but it's all I've ever known. I know there's a big, wide world out there beyond the rocks and waves and beaches, but Corea will always be home to me.

I'm pulled from my reverie when I hear Rose ask Alice, "So, has Jasper said anything about this guy that Charlie is going to talk to today?"

Alice is filling the ketchup bottles and I listen as she says, "Nope. All Jas told me was that Carlisle called Charlie and asked him if he needed any help because he had someone that needed a job. Seeing as Felix just quit, Charlie told him to send the guy over. I know Jasper hopes whoever Carlisle has can help out, because being a man down on the boat is beginning to take its toll already."

I'm startled for a moment and have to tamp down the urge to get upset that they both know more about what's going on with my dad and the Isabella Marie than I do. I know why that is, so the urge passes as quickly as it comes, even though I wish it didn't have to be that way.

"Neither one of you know who this guy is though?" I ask, immediately wary.

I may not be able to be as active a participant in the fishing part of my family's business as I wish I could be, but that doesn't mean I don't care about it either. Anyone who works as close as you have to when you're out on the water has to be completely trustworthy and someone showing up out of the blue immediately raises my suspicions.

Looking from Alice to Rose with a raised eyebrow, I can feel the hair on the back of my neck raise when they both shake their head no. Oh, hell no, I think, and plan on questioning what the hell my father is thinking as soon as I see him.

Before I know it, the restaurant is packed to capacity with the lunch crowd, and I barely have time to breathe much less worry about talking to my father.

"Bella, can you go out back and bring in some paper towels?" my mom asks me once the lunch rush has passed and I'm waiting for Peyton to get there after school is out.

I head out to the back storage shed and putter around inside. I reorganize the shelves, shaking my head at the fact that Xavier has got to be one of the world's worst people about keeping things in any kind of order. I wonder, yet again, how someone that can cook the way he does, can be so damn messy. Loading my arms full of paper towels and a few other things I know we're going to need before the night is through, I walk back into the kitchen and smile when I notice the clock on the wall. Peyton should be walking in any moment and as much as I try not to let it show, I can't wait to hear how badly she beat Brody today.

I'm a Swan through and through. What can I say?

Making my way to the seating area of the restaurant, I'm totally lost in thought until I hear my daughter's voice ring out through the air as she says, "Don't worry, Pop. That's just Edward."

My head whips in the direction of the front door and all of a sudden the air around me is sucked away … like one of those vacuum sealer bags. I stare at the man and my entire body tingles the way it does when I first stand up after sitting too long and my legs have fallen asleep. My stomach feels like it does after I've just stepped off a roller coaster and I have the most insane urge to grab Peyton and run … and not look back.

It's not just the way he looks, like a pitbull that's been chained up too long, ready to strike at anyone that gets too close, that makes me feel this way. It's the way his eyes dart around the room, like he's scared, that ignites the desire in me to soothe him and tell him everything will be okay. It's totally irrational of course, but the fact that I feel lightheaded from breathing so fast and my fingers twitch to touch him tell a different story.

He's tall, taller even than Xavier and Jasper, but lean and his body reminds me of a swimmer's. Long arms, long legs, long fingers. A vision of all of the above wrapped around me … arms around my shoulders, legs tangled with mine, fingers in my hair, assails me. I close my eyes to try to stop the disturbing images … disturbing only because I want to relive each and every image repeatedly in vivid detail.

Our eyes connect as he scans the room. I sway a bit and reach out to steady myself on the table I'm standing in front of. His eyes are an odd but mesmerizing mix of blue, gray, and green. The colors instantly remind me of everything I love - the cloudless sky on a summer day, the rocks along the beach that Peyton loves to climb, the leaves on the trees that surround my house - and I grip the edge of the table so hard my fingers ache from the force. I want to keep looking in those eyes and count each and every shade of blue, gray, and green … even if it takes forever.

There's a jagged scar on his neck that runs from his collarbone to right below his ear and though it's puckered and angry-looking, it does little to add to the danger that surrounds him. The tattoos I can see on his arms don't add much either. In fact, all I want to do is step closer and trace over each line of ink with my fingertip … a thought which makes me clench my fingers even tighter around the table's edge. When he lifts an arm to run his hand through the hair that's a shade I can't even begin to describe - a blend of red, brown, and gold - his bicep flexes beneath the tight black t-shirt he has on and I swallow past the golf ball size lump in my throat.

No, the danger is simply … him.

I don't know his last name; I don't want to know anything about him. I don't know why he looks lost and alone and afraid and angry all at the same time. I don't want to know why his eyes can't seem to stop moving from me to Peyton. I don't want to know why I don't ever want him to stop looking at me.

When he finally moves toward my dad and Peyton, so do I. For some reason the fact that he looks calmer the closer he gets to her immediately sets off every protective instinct I have. Peyton is smiling at him, totally oblivious to the danger this Edward possesses, and when I reach the table, I stand between her and him.

"Peyton, go to the kitchen and get your snack," I tell her, holding her behind me.

"But, Mama, I want to talk to my new friend, Edward. He's here to talk to Pop," she tells me and I squeeze the hand that's not holding her back into a tight fist.

"Now," I tell her as I look down and give her the look that shows I mean business. She huffs and with a casual wave and a cheery, "Bye, Edward," she scampers off to the kitchen.

I turn and follow, knowing everyone's watching me, but I don't care.

I have to get away.

~~~~OOO~~~~OOO~~~~