The ride to Los Angeles was tense. Bella was trembling, practically vibrating with terror. I tried to get her to take her medication to calm down, but she said she wanted to wait until closer to bed. Her meds made her exhausted and gave her a slight hangover the next day. Thankfully, we didn’t have anything planned for the first day or two in New York, even leaving a day later than we anticipated thanks to the traffic and now, the letter that had been delivered to our home.
We just wanted to have an extra rehearsal.
We would have liked to perform on the stage and have a final dress in Madison Square Gardens.
However, we needed to make sure my wife was safe and secure. That was paramount. We had our final dress rehearsal in Los Angeles and we now we had to interview security firms for our protection.
Though, I didn’t want to say anything, but I had received my own letter. It was delivered the stage where we were rehearsing in Los Angeles. The stage manager delivered it the same day that Bella, Alice and Nia had gone shopping, thinking it was fan mail. However, it was a creepy, sadistic letter, just like the one delivered to our house. I had already spoken with Detective Coleman, giving her the letter prior to Bella, Alice and Nia arriving at the rehearsal. I just kept mum about it because I prayed that they would have caught the bastard sending us these creepy, stalker-ish letters. Unfortunately, that was not the case.
I knew I had to come clean to Bella, but not when she was so fragile.
Later. I’d talk to her later.
I just prayed that I’d get through the conversation with my balls intact.
“Mr. Cullen, we’re almost to the hotel,” said the driver. “Mr. Moore said that there are photographers and paparazzi milling around the entrance.”
“How did they go in when they arrived?” I asked.
“Back entrance, through the delivery bay,” the driver explained.
“We’ll do the same. We’re not in any shape to handle the paparazzi,” I nodded. The driver gave me a curt nod, dialing the hotel and asking for security and a bellhop to meet us at the back entrance. I brushed my wife’s curls from her face and smiled at her crookedly. “We’re here, beautiful.”
She looked up at me. Her espresso-colored eyes were just shattered, empty. Her face was pale and her entire demeanor just cried fear. It reminded me of the time she was taken by Jacob, not once but twice. The first time was in Forks when I had arrived just prior to getting engaged, spending time with Charlie and Emmett just after Christmas. She had been injured, but was okay. The second time was when he stole my Volvo, dying in a car accident because he didn’t know how to drive in the ice and snow. Bella was unconscious for almost two days and she had nightmares for months, healing from both ordeals less than two months apart. Occasionally, she would have one around the anniversary of her abduction.
I was prepared for those nightmares to return tonight, even with her being medicated.