New Moon - Meyer Stephenie. Страница 48

"The part that kills me," he said abruptly, "is that you already know. I already told yon everything!"

"What are you talking about?"

He sucked in a startled breath, and then leaned toward me, his face shifting from hopelessness to blazing intensity in a second. He stared fiercely into my eyes, and his voice was fast and eager. He spoke the words right into my face; his breath was as hot as his skin.

"I think I see a way to make this work out—because you know this, Bella! I can't tell you, but if you guessed it! That would let me right off the hook!"

"You want me to guess? Guess what?"

"My secret! You can do it—you know the answer!"

I blinked twice, trying to clear my head. I was so tired. Nothing he said made sense.

He took in my blank expression, and then his face tensed with effort again. "Hole on, let me see if I give you some help," he said. Whatever he was trying to do, it was so hard he was panting.

"Help?" I asked, trying to keep up. My lids wanted to slip closed, but I forced them open.

"Yeah," he said, breathing hard. "Like clues."

He took my face in his enormous, too-warm hands and held it just a few inches from his. He stared into my eyes while he whispered, as if to communicate something besides the words he spoke.

"Remember the first day we met—on the beach in La Push?"

"Of course I do."

"Tell me about it."

I took a deep breath and tried to concentrate. "You asked about my truck…"

He nodded, urging me on.

"We talked about the Rabbit…"

"Keep going."

"We went for a walk down the beach…" My cheeks were growing warm under his palms as I remembered, but he wouldn't notice, hot as his skin was. I'd asked him to walk with me, flirting ineptly but successfully, in order to pump him for information.

He was nodding, anxious for more.

My voice was nearly soundless. "You told me scary stories… Quileute legends."

He closed his eyes and opened them again. "Yes." The word was tense, fervent, like he was on the edge of something vital. He spoke slowly, making each word distinct. "Do you remember what I said?"

Even in the dark, he must be able to see the change in the color of my face. How could I ever forget that? Without realizing what he was doing, Jacob had told me exactly what I needed to know that day—that Edward was a vampire.

He looked at me with eyes that knew too much. "Think hard," he told me.

"Yes, I remember," I breathed.

He inhaled deeply, struggling. "Do you remember all the stor—" He couldn't finish the question. His mouth popped open like something had stuck in his throat.

"All the stories?" I asked.

He nodded mutely.

My head churned. Only one story really mattered. I knew he'd begun with others, but I couldn't remember the inconsequential prelude, especially not while my brain was so clouded with exhaustion. I started to shake my head.

Jacob groaned and jumped off the bed. He pressed his fists against his forehead and breathed fast and angry. "You know this, you know this," he muttered to himself.

"Jake? Jake, please, I'm exhausted. I'm no good at this right now. Maybe in the morning…"

He took a steadying breath and nodded. "Maybe it will come back to you. I guess I understand why you only remember the one story," he added in a sarcastic, bitter tone. He plunked back onto the mattress beside me. "Do you mind if I ask you a question about that?" he asked, still sarcastic. "I've been dying ro know."

"A question about what?" I asked warily.

"About the vampire story I told you."

I stared at him with guarded eyes, unable to answer. He asked his question anyway.

"Did you honestly not know?" he asked me, his voice turning husky. "Was I the one who told you what he was?"

How did he know this? Why did he decide to believe, why now? My teeth clenched together. I stared back at him, no intention of speaking. He could see that.

"See what I mean about loyalty?" he murmured, even huskier now. "It's the same for me, only worse. You can't imagine how tight I'm bound…"

I didn't like that—didn't like the way his eyes closed as if he were in pain when he spoke of being bound. More than dislike—I realized I hated it, hated anything that caused him pain. Hated it fiercely.

Sam's face filled my mind.

For me, this was all essentially voluntary. I protected the Cullens' secret out of love; unrequited, but true. For Jacob, it didn't seem to be that way.

"Isn't there any way for you to get free?" I whispered, touching the rough edge at the back of his shorn hair.

His hands began to tremble, but he didn't open his eyes. "No. I'm in this for life. A life sentence." A bleak laugh. "Longer, maybe."

"No, Jake," I moaned. "What if we ran away? Just you and me. What if we left home, and left Sam behind?"

"It's not something I can run away from, Bella," he whispered. "I would run with you, though, if I could." His shoulders were shaking now, too. He took a deep breath. "Look, I've got to leave."

"Why?"

"For one thing, you look like you're going to pass out at any second. You need your sleep—I need you firing on all pistons. You're going to figure this out, you have to."

"And why else?"

He frowned. "I had to sneak out—I'm not supposed to see you. They've got to be wondering where I am." His mouth twisted. "I suppose I should go let them know."

"You don't have to tell them anything," I hissed.

"All the same, I will."

The anger flashed hot inside me. "I hate them!"

Jacob looked at me with wide eyes, surprised. "No, Bella. Don't hate the guys. It's not Sam's or any of the others' faults. I told you before—it's me. Sam is actually… well, incredibly cool. Jared and Paul are great, too, though Paul is kind of… And Embry's always been my friend. Nothing's changed there—the only thing that hasn't changed. I feel really bad abour the things I used to think about Sam…"

"Sam was incredibly cool." I glared at him in disbelief, but let it go.

"Then why aren't you supposed to see me?" I demanded.

"It's not safe," he mumbled looking down.

His words sent a thrill of fear through me.

Did he know that, too? Nobody knew that besides me. But he was right—it was the middle of the night, the perfect time for hunting. Jacob shouldn't be here in my room. If someone came for me, I had :o be alone.

"If I thought it was too… too risky," he whispered, "I wouldn't have come. But Bella," he looked at me again, "I made you a promise. I had no idea it would be so hard to keep, but that doesn't mean I'm not going to try."

He saw the incomprehension in my face. "After that stupid movie," he reminded me. "I promised you that I wouldn't ever hurt you… So I really blew it this afternoon, didn't I?"

"I know you didn't want to do it, Jake. It's okay."

"Thanks, Bella." He took my hand. "I'm going to do what I can to be here for you, just like I promised." He grinned at me suddenly. The grin was not mine, nor Sam's, but some strange combination of the two. "It would really help if you could figure this out on your own, Bella. Put some honest effort into it."

I made a weak grimace. "I'll try."

"And I'll try to see you soon." He sighed. "And they'll try to talk me out of that."

"Don't listen to them."

"I'll try." He shook his head, as if he doubted his success. "Come and tell me as soon as you figure it out." Something occurred to him just then, something that made his hands shake. "If you… if you want to."

"Why wouldn't I want to see you?"

His face turned hard and bitter, one hundred percent the face that belonged to Sam. "Oh, I can think of a reason," he said in a harsh tone. "Look, I really have to go. Could you do something for me?"