The Family Biz gained quite a few new readers last chapter – welcome and thanks for reading & reviewing! I'm getting into the groove of this story but I'd still be lost without my girls, McWinn77 for her "dash of FicBitchery" and HeidiTown for her wisdom and the contribution of just the college course I was looking for. As long as I'm all puckered up, I love my posse of press whores who are always pimping Slayerward. A new blog for 'smaller' fics is doing great things for these stories and have asked to review TFB. (Thanks TK:-) Follow twificpromotion on twitter for more info.
I'm feeling very nostalgic for the original series and characters which all belong to Stephenie Meyer. Time for read #...? They're all hers but the Employee of the Month Edward is my baby.
The Family Business
SuzsPetals © 2010
Chapter 10 – Armor (Bella)
"Bella, I—," Edward began, although I had no idea what he was going to say. He looked beyond embarrassed. I stopped him.
"So it wasn't me. I wasn't the reason you walked out of my life three years ago, was I?"
He looked at me in defeat, his beautiful face full of remorse. "Of course it wasn't you, Bella. It was the stupidest thing I've ever done, and I'll do whatever I can to make it up to you."
My heart swelled at the promise, and if we had been the same two people we were back then it would have been all the hope I needed. But the man had just spent the last hour explaining the significant differences between us now. I put the pain of that reality aside for the moment and asked him the question I'd stewed over for so, so long.
"What happened? That day, I mean," as though I had to clarify. I could tell from the look on his face he remembered our last conversation as well as I.
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After Edward had dropped me off that morning, I tried to sleep a little but spent most of the day floating in my own little bubble. Charlie asked if I had a good time with my friend from high school and I giggled like a moron. He looked at me curiously and went fishing.
I didn't consciously wait for the phone to ring but by seven p.m., I had butterflies. I was sure he'd call before the day was out and the more time that passed, the more I questioned my memory of the whole amazing night. He said he was "taking his shot," right? Was he really hanging on my every word? Did we really discuss the potential of sleeping together after one night of kissing? Okay, it was a lot more than just necking in a car. The longer the phone remained silent, the easier it was to convince myself I'd become one of those girls who doodles their married name and chooses a china pattern after one date.
And I began to get angry with him — and myself — for allowing those insecurities to get a toe in. It was different, damn it! I didn't imagine the energy between us — physical, intellectual and emotional — we could have powered half of Forks. If I'd had his cell phone number I might have just called and asked him outright to confirm or deny. But I didn't, so I waited pathetically.
After midnight when I was sure Charlie was asleep, I snuck a shot of whiskey from the dusty bottle above the fridge. Then I picked some Enya from my play list and read a novel I couldn't begin to remember the plot of the next morning.
I must have finally fallen asleep because when the phone rang on my bedside table I was fuzzy and incoherent. I saw it was already nine o'clock when I mumbled hello.
"Bella? Did I wake you?"
Edward's smooth voice pulled me from my stupor.
"Hi there, no I'm awake," I said, though clearly not. I sat up and rubbed my face vigorously, managing to get my ring snagged in my hair, which was a tangled mess. "Shit!"
"I can call back if this is a bad time," he said. Why did he sound so formal?
"No, no, I'm fine. How are you?" I barely suppressed a loud yawn in his ear. This was why I never drank. One shot and I felt like I'd had the whole bottle.
"I'm okay, how are you doing?" he replied. This was weird. The butterflies were back in full force.
Since I wasn't coherent enough to do this little dance, I just got straight to the point.
"I'm good, Edward. What's going on?" I tried to keep the impatience out of my voice but I'm sure he could tell I wasn't making more small talk.
He sighed loudly before saying, "I have some bad news."
Oh shit.
I tried to reassure myself that very little could happen in 24 hours that couldn't be overcome but his voice held no detectable optimism.
"What kind of bad news? Are you all right?" Dead grandma — he has to go to a funeral. He was grounded for a month for staying out so late. A tree fell on his house and he's now homeless. My imagination ran rampantly wild and hopeful as I came up with one scenario after another that would mean I couldn't see him again for a week, maybe two. Everything would be fine, just a bump in the road. We had waited over a year to get together, so a few weeks was nothing to panic over.
"I'm fine," he said sounding anything but. "It's just that I'm ... I'm leaving town for awhile."
The butterflies in my stomach mutated into twin-engine Cessna's.
"What's awhile?" I asked quietly. He paused a long moment before answering.
"A year." When I didn't say anything, he continued with an obviously rehearsed explanation. "I just found out yesterday I qualified for a great internship with a company in, uh — New York. My dad has been working on this opportunity for some time and it came together suddenly. I know the timing sucks but I really have to go."
I jumped in, the shock jarring me awake now. "I thought you said it was your choice, not your family's, what you did. Is this something you want to do?" It so clearly wasn't. Even after one night together I knew that.
"Absolutely," he lied.
I could tell he attempted to keep his demeanor detached so I just kept talking, trying to push through the barrier.
"Well, if it's what you want, I guess I'm happy for you. When do you leave?"
"Tomorrow morning."
I gasped before I could catch myself. "Wow. That soon," I said with a traitorous tremor in my voice. "Maybe we could get together later today?" I knew the answer before he said it and almost hung up so I wouldn't have to hear it out loud.
"I wish we could," I could hear the authentic regret then. "But I have to pack and get some papers in order. And I think it would just make it worse."
His unspoken declaration was the sound of a knife cutting through the tether I knew we had between us. He said nothing while I took a couple of deep breaths and worked at getting pissed off.
"You don't want to see me at all, in other words." I wouldn't make it easy for him, damn it.
"It's not that I don't — you have no idea. But I think it will just be too difficult on separate coasts and I'll be so busy and you'll be in college..." He was trying to sell the story he had worked up but I could hear the doubt in his voice.
Now I was pissed.
"Why are you doing this, Edward? With cell phones and email and Skype, nobody lives too far apart anymore. Your family's here so you'll probably be back to visit and a year is nothing in the big scheme of things. If I simply imagined the connection between us then tell me now, but I don't think I did. You said you felt it too. So, why?" I demanded.
The line was quiet while I waited for him to admit the rare thing that happened just one night earlier. It was killing me not to be able to see his face, look into his thoughtful green-gray eyes while he came around to reason. I couldn't believe he had broken this news on the phone.
...Which should have been my first clue of his intentions.
"I had a great time the other night, Bella, it's just lousy timing. Maybe when I get back we could get together again. I'm sorry." He kept his voice neutral and apologetic as he cut through the last shred of tether between us. I could almost imagine my inexperienced heart lying there on the floor, with Edward's shoe tread clearly visible.
"I'm sorry too," I whispered before hanging up on him.
I stared at the lousy chunk of plastic then heaved it across the room as hard as I could. It hit the wall and shattered into several useless pieces. There was also a nice divot in the plaster. It didn't make me feel better.
In fact, I didn't feel better for a long time.
------
Edward looked all around the room, collecting the memories before he would answer.
"I dropped you off at your house and went home. I already knew my dad had something to talk to me about but I didn't think much of it. All I could think about was you and ... and everything that happened that night." He finally met my eyes and his burned with emotion. "I felt differently, like I had the reins finally. And that was because of you, Bella. So when I got home at the crack of dawn and my parents were wide awake and bouncing off the walls, I was caught off guard."
He looked so worn down I couldn't help myself. I covered his hand with mine and gave a light (at least I hope it was light) squeeze, encouraging him to continue. He laced his fingers in mine as he had that night.
"There's an old family in Italy called the Volturi's. They've sort of been in charge of hunting ... vampires ... for centuries. We work directly with them and they pay us. Well."
Edward's eyes slid sideways. I saved that observation for later.
"They have a council and a facility near Florence where people go to learn about the history, physiology, and methodology of vampires around the world. As well as the shape shifters — or werewolves. So, a few years ago I was 'requested' to attend the training program in Italy. It was a huge deal to my father, not so much to me. I still wasn't sure what I wanted to do with my life, as you know." He paused long enough, thinking back, until I felt the need to nudge him forward.
"So it was an internship in Italy, not New York," I said. He winced.
"I'm sorry I lied about that. Italy just didn't make any sense as my poor excuse — in more ways than one. I didn't want to go and my parents were shocked to learn that. You have to believe I did fight it. My dad and I spent the better part of the day yelling and swearing at each other." He looked pained at the memory. I wondered...
"Did you tell them about... about me?" I asked hesitantly.
The expression on his face was answer enough.
"No, but not because I was embarrassed, Bella. That night meant so much to me and I was afraid if I tried to explain how my reason for not immediately leaving the country revolved around a girl, well, I didn't want anyone trivializing what we had... or might have had." Edward swallowed loudly and closed his eyes for a moment. "So I argued all the practical reasons for not going. But I didn't really have big career goals at the moment to point to as an alternative. I hadn't even enrolled at the university yet." He paused and looked at me. "And then I thought about the irrational side of the decision; of the sheer stupidity of having a girlfriend while doing... what I do.
"And I gave in," he finished.
"Your brother has a girlfriend," I pointed out quietly. His eyes widened until he realized I could hear the entire conversation upstairs earlier.
He responded with a wry smile, "Emmett's always loved what we do. He likes the danger, the idealized heroics. And he likes to enjoy himself when he's not working. So he dates, he parties, he just ... I don't know how but he keeps it all in balance. I never could," he admitted.
Another piece fell into place and I nodded. "That's why Alice didn't seem interested in hanging out with me. She keeps herself at a distance too, huh?"
"Alice has always liked you, Bella. Who wouldn't? I'm just sorry our, my, we... I'm sorry."
I thought about what Alice had said on the phone and risked making him even more uncomfortable. "Edward, what did she mean by keeping tabs on me?"
His ears glowed red and he tucked his head as far into himself as he could without becoming a turtle. He mumbled but my sharp senses picked it up easily. I still made him work for it.
"What did you say?" I asked innocently.
He met my eyes with sincerity. "I never let go."
I let his words sink in. For three years I thought he had no problem tossing away the chance for something special. I was sure he had moved on and never thought of me again, except maybe with chagrin for getting carried away with some stupid girl from high school. I had even entertained the idea that he already knew about the internship and saw an opportunity for a last fling before blowing out of Forks. It didn't ring true but it made me feel better on the days I chose the anger over the pain.
And now he tells me he didn't stop thinking about me all this time.
Even though he'd said he was leaving town, I still looked for him around every corner back then, until it made me crazy. I figured distance was the best remedy for a broken heart so I left for Florida that fall and started classes as soon as I got everything approved. Thousands of miles, hours upon hours of schoolwork and friends like Jasper even helped sometimes. But I'd still find myself thinking about Edward, and now I find he was doing the same fucking thing; keeping busy and thinking of me.
"How? How did you keep track of me?" Florida was a long way from Washington.
With his free hand, Edward scrubbed his face before meeting my eyes again. It was very obvious he didn't want to tell me. I waited.
"Bella, I don't want you to think I'm a creepy ass stalker. I just wanted to know you were okay. And happy."
"That's sweet, but how could you tell I was happy from 3000 miles away?" I squeezed his hand lightly. "Just tell me. I won't be mad." Hopefully.
Edward laughed nervously and said, "Shit, I hope not 'cause I don't think it would end well for me if you are." He took a deep breath and continued, "We have certain resources available to us that, um, civilians don't. I'd heard from Alice you moved to Florida while I was in Italy. Through restricted databases I could tell where you were living, what classes you were taking ... that kind of thing."
He was leaving a ton unsaid, that much was clear. I wasn't sure how I felt about someone looking at my life through the World Wide Web but inwardly, I shrugged. Better Edward than some common identity thief. I could find out more, when he wasn't so mortified.
"So, what did you think of my grades?" I deadpanned. He allowed a small crooked smile.
"I always knew you were brilliant, but the Scottish Highland Dance course was clearly a mistake."
"I was just kidding," I gasped. "So I guess you also know which class I aced although I only attended eight times." He started to open his mouth but I threw my hand up and cut him off. "I don't really want to know just how much you know right now." I changed tacks before I got too paranoid.
"What about you? How were your grades at the prestigious Italian academy?"
"It wasn't like that," he said, uncomfortable. "Mostly we learned everything we could about vampires, and of course, how not to die."
I cringed at the thought of Edward risking his life every day for this... this supernatural mission. I had experienced just how strong and terrifying someone like James was and knew it didn't take any effort at all for him to kill a person, prepared or not. The questions I had for Edward began mounting as I wondered how he was able to succeed. It was apparent Kevin the junkie hadn't been a threat to anyone while he was writhing in pain on the floor. But what about when he transformed — if he had been able to go through the change? What would have happened? Obviously, Edward had some idea what to expect or he wouldn't have chained me to the floor and kept a flamethrower by his side while waiting.
I survived the pain and he survived me. But how?
"So if you're an expert at all this, why did you say I wasn't "normal" for a — what did you call it — newborn?" I recalled him looking at me earlier with a sort of awe. Why was I different?
"I didn't mean to make it sound like there was something wrong with you," he said while stroking the side of my hand with his thumb. "First of all, I know you were in unbearable pain during the change, but you were quiet through most of the thirty-six hours. That's unusual, to say the least."
I recalled Kevin's blood-curdling cries and could relate. If Edward had told me I screamed the entire time, I would have believed him. Then I remembered what kept the pain at bay.
"The music."
"What?" he asked, no doubt confused at the seemingly random change in subject.
I was positive I'd be able to relive the feeling of acid hissing through my body for the rest of my life. Oh, God. Forever. I would remember it forever. Panic began to surge through my new nerve endings and I focused on pushing it down before I lost it, possibly doing serious damage in the process. As I contained it, I had a revelation. I tried to explain it to Edward.
"The pain was like fire. That's how I thought of it. At first, when I realized it wasn't going to stop, I tried to concentrate on keeping the wall of fire at a distance. It was like I could feel the heat but it wasn't actually burning me. Then I heard a sound that seemed to morph into music. I couldn't tell if it was a song or just a melody but it gave me something else to focus on. It felt like walking through a labyrinth of flames; I kept following the music around each corner but never could quite catch it. I was so focused on finding it, that the pain seemed duller, less searing. Both the music and the fire stopped about the same time." I didn't need a breath but I paused to see if he understood what I clumsily described.
"That's amazing," he breathed. "I wondered how you did it. I could tell how much you were suffering but at times you had this look of divine focus on your face. And you didn't imagine it — I had music playing almost from the moment I brought you here."
I looked across the room at the guitars hung carefully on the wall, recalling the one I saw on the cot in the other room. "Did you play the music?"
The color rose in his ears again and it was so damn cute. It evoked the memory of nibbling on them three years ago and I had to refrain from reaching out and tracing the shell of his ear. Besides the time that had passed, it was also too much in proximity to the pulse of blood in his neck beating sensuously.
Edward cleared his throat before answering and I snapped my eyes back to his.
"Not the whole time, but yeah, I played for a while. I'm really glad it helped. I had a feeling, well, more of a hope, I guess." He looked embarrassed but pleased. I kept my attention off of his Adam's apple.
"Maybe you could play again sometime, you know, now that I can appreciate it."
"Sure," he agreed. Then, reluctantly he asked, "Bella, what about the thirst?"
Oh, shit. "What do you mean?"
"Do you know how you're able to control your thirst? That's definitely something new and I'm trying to understand." The thought that Edward had seen numerous vampires with which to compare me boggled my mind. I enjoyed the steady rhythm of his carotid while I thought how to answer him.
"I can feel a craving, but I guess it's like the fire — I mean the pain — and I just mentally hold it at a distance. Mind over matter sounds too simple and cliché, but I guess that's the best way to describe it." Of course, I never imagined using the technique for anything like this.
To be honest, I'd always been good at keeping painful experiences at a safe distance until I was able to process my emotions objectively. Running to Florida when Edward broke my heart and running back to Forks when my mother did her number, were both rare occurrences of me acting on pure emotion. The irony of those decisions was not lost on me as I gazed in Edward's eyes and listened to his heart steadily pumping blood.
"Are you thirsty now, baby?" he asked softly, his voice infused with sympathy, warm with concern.
I wanted to be strong and I wanted to be in control of this. More than anything, I wanted to be human so I would stop looking at the contours of his jaw and neck, covered with stubble and thrumming with life while venom pooled in my mouth.
I whimpered and nodded miserably.
"It's okay, Bella. I expected this." He clasped my hand reassuringly. "I have more plasma and once you feel better I'll show you around the house. I know we have a lot of shit to figure out but you probably want to get the hell out of this basement. Oh! And I've got some extra clothes you can use if you want to clean up later."
He let go of my hand and jumped up. I watched with fascination as he quickly prepared me another warmed mug. It was all very domestic if I didn't stop to think that it was a cup full of blood. Tantalizing, delicious blood.
I skipped the straw and couldn't help but enjoy the feeling of it sliding down my throat like silk. It tasted better this time, now that my mind had stretched in its attempt to wrap around what had become of me. I sighed a "thank you" as we stood up, ready to leave the room that said so much about Edward.
It was definitely a guy's retreat. There was a nice TV with a PlayStation attached, five guitars — really good ones from what I could tell — hung on the wall, an upright piano stood in the corner and a small wet bar included the mini-fridge and microwave. But instead of beer lights and posters of Megan Fox, Edward had several beautiful, framed photographs on the walls. I assumed they were of Italy but rather than the touristy type shots you'd expect, these were artistically focused and cropped; one of an ancient church, another of an old amused peasant woman.
"C'mon," he said, taking my hand again. I still held the mug with the other and he grabbed his abandoned soup before leading me to the stairs. I began to get nervous.
"What if someone comes over again?" I asked.
"Don't worry. I'm sure Emmett was it for today and it's not like I entertain very often. But if someone comes by with pamphlets and a message from the almighty, I'll be sure to let you answer the door." He gave me a wicked grin and a wink and I giggled in spite of myself.
If I was still human, I'm confident the events and conversations of the preceding days would have left me physically exhausted and mentally drained. But no thanks to James, it looked like I would never be wiped out again. I suddenly realized that given what had happened, I couldn't be in better hands than Edward's.
Even though I could kick his ass and we both knew it, he seemed to understand how vulnerable I actually felt. He treated me as though I was made of glass, in need of careful handling. And when he looked at me, I'd swear it was the same way he did those many months ago when we collided in one night. I remember thinking I'd never be the same again after that night with Edward. I'd literally never be the same after taking a ride with the wrong asshole, and Edward was there for me.
I grasped his hand and let him lead me up the stairs.
The door opened into his kitchen and I followed him as he took our dishes and rinsed them quickly in the sink. It was tidy and warm, in spite of the gloomy weather I could see through the window over the sink. Forks had changed little since I'd been back. While I gazed out at his yard, Edward leaned over and pulled the shade down.
"We should be careful about you being seen until we figure out what we're going to do," he said, apologetically. He was right, of course, and I felt the anxiety make an unwelcome reappearance.
"Edward, what am I going to do about my dad? I can't stand thinking about him being so worried when I'm right here. Should I call him?"
He looked back at me with infinite patience. "Honey, what would you tell him? You can't tell him the truth and he'd want to see you. One look and he'll know something's not right. Even your voice is a little different."
"Well, what if I say I'm calling from Florida or somewhere else, plead a bad phone connection and assure him I'm fine, for now? He knows what Renee's like and I can convince him I just need some time alone. Then we'll figure something out," I frantically worked at convincing him.
"But what if your truck shows up next week? He'll know you lied and be even more freaked out. I don't get this vamp James; he's not being predictable so unless we know what he did with your truck and belongings, our hands are tied." Edward chewed on his lip as he worried the situation over before me. Sighing, he turned and retrieved a beer from his fridge. He looked at me contritely before asking, "Do you mind...?"
"Of course not. It's your house and I'm good for now." Smiling weakly, I added, "You've had a pretty rough couple of days yourself. You deserve a beer."
He chuckled and nodded before popping the cap off and taking a deep drink. I was mesmerized by the muscles pulling the cold beer down his throat, but not in the way I had been earlier. The pulse of his blood wasn't quite the beacon it had been and I was relieved. Now, with my heightened sense of vision, I just really appreciated watching him do... pretty much anything.
This was not a good train of thought to pursue. James effectively shut that door two days ago and I shook my head minutely as I walked to the open doorway, turning my back to Edward.
"Well, I have to think of something. I can't just let him wonder what happened to me for the rest of his life. He'll suspect the worst, considering his line of work, but never knowing for sure will kill him." I looked over my shoulder at him. "And you know it."
The hand not gripping the bottle raked through his hair, leaving it looking like a G5 storm went through. "I wish I could talk to my dad about this."
"Why don't we?" I whipped around to face him, eager for possible action. He looked at me as though I had missed something very important.
"Bella, I thought you understood. This isn't just an unfortunate career choice I made. My family has been on a mission to eradicate bloodsu– vampires from the face of the earth for over a century." Edward slammed the beer down on the island and crossed the room to me. He gripped my arms and it probably would have hurt a little last week. Staring hard at me, he said, "We're good people but if it had been Emmett who found you dying in that house, well, you wouldn't be standing here now." The pain in his eyes was so visceral I cringed.
I realized then what his decision meant in the long run. Rather than keeping me a prisoner here, Edward was harboring a fugitive and cutting himself off from his family without them knowing it. He sacrificed it all for a girl he hardly knows. And Cullen family be damned, I'm ranting about calling my dear dad to let him know I'm not-so-alive and well in Edward Cullen's kitchen.
He still held my upper arms as I lifted my right hand and laid it on his chest. His heart beat wildly beneath my pale fingers. I met his eyes and tried to reassure him.
"I'm sorry, you're right. I don't want to come between you and your family, Edward. We'll come up with something once we've had time to think it through."
He let go of my arms and placed one of his hands over mine, still over his heart.
"You're not coming between anyone, Bella. I love my family and I even like what I do when I'm not otherwise wondering what it would be like to pimp videos at Blockbuster. But obviously I don't regret one decision I've made in the last two days and I'll keep you safe as long as I need to." He paused before adding, "From whomever I need to."
We looked at each other for a long moment.
"You should get something to eat too," I said.
"Were you always this nurturing?" he asked with a teasing smile. His expressive eyes were alternately green, blue and gray like the ocean and I wanted to stand here for hours with my hand on his chest enveloped by his, and watch the colors change. I guess I could have but there were circles of weariness under those eyes and I knew he probably hadn't slept much since he found me.
Before I could worry any more about his wellbeing he slowly leaned in closer, never breaking eye contact. So slowly, in fact, I belatedly realized what he was going to do.
"What are you doing?!" I asked, my voice high and nervous. I had stepped a few feet back so quickly that Edward still stood there with his hands in mid-air. His expression was shocked and confused.
"I'm sorry, I don't know what — it just seemed natural to — I'm sorry, Bella." He dropped his hands and took a step back. Damn it, I missed touching him already but the thought of him getting hurt because of me... well, it just couldn't happen. I tried to keep the disappointment out of my voice and pass the moment off before we both got too uncomfortable. It's not like I could go anywhere else right now.
"No, it's all right. You just surprised me." I smiled brightly and walked back into the room. "C'mon, Edward. Get something to eat and show me this house of yours."
He looked as regretful as I felt but returned the smile and proceeded to make an enormous sandwich. It was odd seeing all the familiar ingredients and smelling every molecule of them without any pleasure. The sliced roast beef looked better but still smelled dead and unappealing. He finished up, put everything away and grabbed a bag of chips and his beer.
"All right, let's go see the rest of your new digs, for now at least." He grinned at me and I was relieved the unexpected moment had passed without too much awkwardness. He took his food into the living room and set it down next to the couch. Most of his furnishings were craftsman style and looked like they were made for the house. The house felt like him too, warm and comfortable, masculine but not too much so.
After showing me the bathroom and the small pile of clothes he put together for me, we sat on the couch while he ate. Edward closed all of the blinds and drapes as we went from room to room, but we didn't talk anymore about what we were going to do about disclosing my whereabouts. Instead we talked like old friends catching up. I told him about school and the fight with my mom that led me to leave. He caught me up on some of the local gossip like Mike Newton marrying and divorcing Jessica Stanley in one year's time. He didn't share much more about his family business and I didn't ask.
It was just past midnight when Edward's eyes finally drifted closed during a lull in the conversation. He slumped over the pillow he had stuffed beside him and his jaw went slack. I smiled when the crease in his brow relaxed finally and I knew he was out for the night. I gently laid an afghan over him and he didn't even stir. Watching him sleep and wondering what he was dreaming about for the next two hours was the most peace I'd had since Phil moved in our house months ago back in Florida. It all seemed a million miles — and years — away now.
Eventually I got up and used Edward's bathroom to shower and change my clothes. I didn't seem to sweat anymore but it still felt wonderful to freshen up. For the rest of the night I paced the house looking at Edward's taste in books and art. It was like a glimpse into his heart, but I couldn't keep my mind from wandering to the problem at hand.
I couldn't stay here indefinitely, unable to go outside, holed up like the vampire I was. And I couldn't let Charlie, Jasper or even my crazy mother think I was dead, never knowing for sure. There had to be a way to let them know I was all right — relatively speaking — without exposing Edward or endangering his family's mission.
When hazy pink rays slid through the beveled glass windows of the front door, I had come up with a few ideas how to do that. I started a pot of coffee in Edward's kitchen while debating whether he needed to know or not. I heard him yawn and stretch in the next room and decided, no, probably not.
a/n: I never liked the word shield to describe Bella's power. My mind immediately goes to wings, absorbancy, etc. Yuck. Therefore the title of this chapter refers to my version of her strength.
So, the concept of my outline is still intact but it's probably another ten chapters longer than intended what with how much these people think/talk/obsess. I hope that's okay with everyone. At least Bella's out of the basement now — although she's going to have to hole up (like the vampire she is) for a little longer. I'll try to update quicker so she won't get bored, but if you had the day alone in your crush's house where would you go nosing first? Porn stash ala Wide Awake? Tell me where your curiosity would lead and I'll send you a teaser:)
Speaking of AngstGoddess003, you should read one of her newest "Company Loves Misery" if you haven't. Very flawed Edward but still you want to take him home to hug (and then do bad things with.) In progress but worth each update.