I have never in my life sworn at Esme more about her choice of locale than the twelve minutes it took me to drive in Carlisle’s car from our house to Charlie Swan’s. I went seventy miles an hour, cursing and praying that at least, since I couldn’t save Bella, I could at least help Charlie.
There was only a little Volkswagon in the driveway when I pulled up.
Now, people don’t normally surprise me, but Bella did that day, when she barreled into me full-force.
“I saw you jump,” was all I could manage.
I was already attuned to her, I told her. I couldn’t help but see.
Except when I couldn’t.
Because the other boy, Jacob, had been with her.
It was lucky for all of us that Edward didn’t take a werewolf with him to Italy.