Chapter 4 (Recovery)

"Edward?"

Silk. Heat. Strawberries. Honey.

Isabella.

I pried my eyes open. I was in a hospital bed. Somewhere behind me, a machine beeped softly at regular intervals. The curtain was drawn between my bed and the door. I blinked.

Large, concerned, brown eyes blinked back at me. I offered her a lazy smile, and Isabella let out a sigh of relief as she threw herself against me, burying her face in my neck. Her hand stroked the side of my neck in a gentle caress that was innocent enough, but set me on fire in places that I was sure would make her blush. My left arm felt heavy against my side, so I wrapped my good arm around her to hold her petite frame even closer to mine.

"I came as soon as I heard," she said in a small voice. "I...I assumed the worst, Edward. I was terrified." I rubbed her back reassuringly.

"It's going to take more than a little explosion to get rid of me," I chuckled. Isabella looked up at me with grave eyes. "Aw, come on, Bella," I chided her. "I'm alright, aren't I? Unless there's something you're not telling me..." Again, my joke fell flat. Tough crowd.

"I don't want to be that girl, Edward," she said slowly. "But, this isn't how I imagined us." I rose an eyebrow.

"What do you mean?"

Isabella bit her lip, and took a sigh, as though bracing herself.

"I mean, I don't know, Edward," she glanced down to fiddle with the collar of the hospital shirt. "It took years, but I finally got the courage to tell you how I feel about you. And I don't regret that, because it's the truth. But...well, it's just...nothing has changed. I only get to see you every few weeks, and in between it's like you've disappeared from the face of the earth, I mean, you...you haven't even said it back, which, don't get me wrong, it's totally fine, and I still feel the way I do despite -"

Ignoring the heaviness in my left arm, I lifted her chin and pressed my lips to hers, effectively cutting off her stream of consciousness. She gave a little sigh and shiver, and melted into me, and that was all it took to arouse me and set my skin on fire. Isabella shifted against me, and then pulled away with a soft 'oh' and a gentle blush. I gave her a devilish grin.

"Did...did I do that?" she asked in a breathy voice, glancing at the tent in my pants. I chuckled.

"Always," I answered as I closed my eyes and willed myself to calm down. I felt the gentle press of her fingers on my face. I met her gaze.

"Can I help?" she asked in a quiet voice. I rose an eyebrow. She looked at me from underneath her eyelashes, and I knew in that moment that I was a lost man. Whatever she asked of me, she would have. I would give her my very soul if she demanded it. I drew her fingers to my lips.

"You don't need to do that," I said, kissing her palm. It was Isabella's turn to cast me a devilish grin.

"I want to," she whispered, straddling me. I was powerless beneath her, simultaneously lost and captured in the enigma that she was. She pressed a hot open mouthed kiss to my lips, and just as I went to hold her to me, she pulled away, and planted a gentler kiss on my neck. Her hands had found their way to the edge of my shirt, and she rolled it up to find access to my chest. Kiss by kiss, gentle touch by gentle touch, she poked and prodded at the fire that was building at the pit of my belly.

Something slammed through me, low and wicked, when she tugged at my pants and my cock sprung free. She grinned at me, and planted an innocent kiss at the tip. Her tongue peeked out to taste, and the feeling made me want to shiver. I bit my lip instead and tried to control my breathing.

"Do you want me, Edward?" she asked quietly, as she grasped hold of me and began to stroke me in her soft hand, slow and long.

"More than anything," I bit out. "Fuck."

I wasn't ready for the feeling of her tongue against me. The beeping that monitored my heart rate increased dramatically. I cursed, and grabbed hold of her arms to pull her up. With my other hand, I fixed my pants. Isabella pouted.

"I can't let you do that," I explained, trying to force my heart to beat normally again. "God forgive me."

"I want to," Isabella insisted, looking thoroughly annoyed to have her plans derailed. I could only grin at the expression on her face.

"And that's enough for me," I answered, tugging her down to rest against me. She frowned, but then peppered my face with kisses. My heart swelled in my chest. This woman would be the death of me. When she was sure that I had been thoroughly kissed, she curled into my side, tracing patterns into my chest.

I closed my eyes and relished the moment.

Like this, with Isabella pressed close to me, surrounded by still and calm, I could consider, for a moment, the thought of getting out of the family business. Opening up a legitimate business. Selling pianos, maybe. Or import/export. Something real. Something secure. Something that would allow me to promise Isabella the world and everything in it so long as she stayed with me.

Then, the door flew open, and my brothers paraded in, armed with food and followed by my mother. Isabella made to climb off of the bed as I sat up, but I held her to me. She gave my family a rueful smile.

"The sick bed treatment, huh?" Emmett boomed, with a wink. Isabella immediately flushed, and I threw him a middle finger.

"How are you feeling Edward?" Jasper asked.

"You need to eat," my mother added, moving over to the tray to arrange the food they had brought. "That's the only way to keep your strength."

"He seems to have regained his strength already," Emmett chimed in, wiggling his eyebrows at me. I made another rude gesture and my mom smacked my shoulder.

"Ow," I winced. "I'm already in a hospital bed."

My mother only shot me a glare. Jasper had pulled a chair up beside my bed, and pulled out a laptop. Emmett perched on the edge of the bed. My mom knew when we were about to talk shop, so she asked Isabella to go with her to get coffees. I wanted to hold Isabella close to me, and Isabella looked at me as though she hoped that I would. But she went.

As soon as the door closed behind my mother and the love of my life, Jasper fixed me with clear, all-seeing eyes.

"How are you feeling?" he asked in a strange voice. I glanced between him and Emmett, and was surprised to see how serious they were being.

"Are you kidding?" I asked. "How do you think? Someone blew up my place. Probably the same person who had dad shot."

Jasper and Emmett exchanged glances.

"I meant your injuries. Doc said you sprained your ankle and dislocated your shoulder. He says you should stay off your feet for a few weeks."

I gave a snort. But Jasper and Emmett looked serious as ever.

"You gotta lay low, bro," Emmett said in a quiet voice.

"The Volturi truck is coming through tonight," I answered firmly. "Whatever that thing's carrying might be related to what happened to me. I'm not gonna just stay in some hospital bed and let this chance drive by."

"Emmett and me are gonna hit the truck," Jasper answered. "And you're not staying in this hospital. Not with a target on your back. But you're not coming out with us for a while."

"What is this?" I demanded, looking between my brothers and trying to keep my fury under control. "You think this is peewee baseball? Are you guys trying to fucking bench me?"

"Dude, you're injured, and you could cost us-" Emmett tried.

"Fuck injured. We're closer to catching the son of a bitch who blew our father's brains out. Do you guys get what that means? And you want me to sit around and scratch my ass while he's out there? Fuck that. And fuck you guys."

Jasper gave a sigh.

"We knew you would be like this, Edward," he said in a quiet voice, before closing his laptop. "All I can say is I'm sorry for what happens next." Jasper and Emmett stood up and exchanged another glance. I didn't like this one bit.

"Don't forget who I am," I told them in a low, dangerous voice. A moment of silence hovered between the three of us before Jasper went to the door, Emmett trailing him, leaving me alone with the sound of the machine behind my head beeping.

I was more than furious, but I put that feeling aside and waited. I didn't know what I was waiting for, but I would be ready for it when it came. The door to my room opened again, and I expected to see Isabella and my mother.

"Hello, Edward."

It was the tall, lean man with the slicked back hair who had been present when the paramedics were taking me in. He strolled languidly into the room, as though he had called me to meet him here. He spoke in a deep, gravelly tone, marked with a strong accent that I couldn't place. Something about him made the hairs at the back of my neck stand on end. I felt weak. It was an odd, unfamiliar feeling that I never wanted to feel again. I met the man's grey gaze with my own.

"It's so lovely to meet you again, though I'm sorry it had to be under such...unfortunate circumstances."

"What do you want?" I demanded. I didn't recognize the stranger, but he seemed to know me, and that unnerved me. The man gave me a slow smile, one that suggested that he was hiding something sinister beneath it.

"What a strange question," he said slowly, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and twirling one between his long fingers. He pondered it a moment. "Most people start off by asking who I am. Or who sent me. Something along those lines. But you," he cut his gaze back to me. "You ask what I want. Most peculiar."

I didn't answer him, but I held his gaze until he smiled again.

"I want to help you, Edward," he said as he placed the cigarette between his lips. It bobbed gently as he spoke. "But you must help me in return. Your father was a great man. He died a hero. Stop looking into his death."

I only rose an eyebrow. The man grinned.

"I see you are a man of few words. I can respect that."

He walked over to my side of the room, and placed an innocuous hand over my injured ankle.

"I wouldn't like to see you hurt again, Edward."

"I don't respond well to threats," I answered quietly. The man nodded, that unnerving smile creeping up around his mouth again. He took his hand off of my ankle.

"The police are on their way here," he said suddenly, leaning forward with renewed urgency. "Say nothing to no one."

Then he stood and disappeared. Seconds later, the door flew open, and three men entered the room, Charlie Swan was one of them. His eyes glinted in what looked like victory.

"Edward Cullen, you son of a bitch," he said loudly. One of the officers slapped a cuff around my wrist, shackling me to my bed. "You're under arrest."

A/N: I appreciate all of your concern about Edward kissing Tanya Definitely not one of his shining moments, and I struggled a lot about whether to write that or not. But, it's important because it shows a part of who Mobward is. He sees weaknesses and exploits them, he doesn't see it as infidelity, he sees it as using another tool in his belt. Hopefully you guys will keep sticking with me on this journey.