A hundred yards away, Mike Newton was lowering Bella’s limp body to the sidewalk. She slumped unresponsively against the wet concrete, her skin chalky as a corpse. I almost took the door off the car.
Before I tell you my story, Jasper said. you must understand that there are places in our world, Bella, where the life span of the never-aging is measured in weeks, and not centuries.
Stop being so optimistic, its getting on my nerves. No problem. Do you want me to be all gloom and doom or just shut up? Just shut up. Can do. Really? Doesn’t seem like it.
He was giving up on keeping me alive, letting nature–or rather mob justice–take its course. When he returned, and I was dead, he wouldn’t hold anyone responsible. He would not mourn. All this I could hear in those three words.
