EPOV
The room smells awful. I smell awful. I feel awful.
"Shhh," someone coos above me.
There are fingers stroking my hair and I'm warm. No. I'm hot. But I'm shivering too and nothing makes any sense.
"Just sleep," says the soft voice just by my right ear.
I'm lying on my side, that much I can tell.
I want to keep my eyes closed but I want to know where I am and who I'm with too. I crack just one lid open, hiss at the pain of the light that seeps in and then feel my stomach lurch angrily.
"Its okay, it's okay," the voice chants as I throw up and up and up.
How it can be okay that the contents of my stomach is evacuating violently I don't know, or understand, but I can't control it either.
The smell makes me retch harder.
The taste makes my eyes water and my throat burn.
"Shhh, it's okay," I hear again above me.
"Not," I manage to croak.
"It is," the voice assures me. "I'm here. You aren't alone. It'll be okay."
Something cool and wet wipes my face and I hope that I'm the one lying in my own filth and not whoever belongs to that voice.
I shift, as little as possible, until my fingers find the hard surface beneath me. It's cold, hard and smooth. Tile. I'm on the floor but I'm not alone.
I shift my fingers back towards myself and feel the fabric under my head. It's wet. Something's been stuffed under me. Probably for comfort but I've soiled it.
My clothing feels constricting though I have no idea what I'm wearing or where I am other than I'm clothed and I'm on a tiled floor.
"Where?" I manage to get out.
"You're in your bathroom and I'm here," the voice says gently above me.
I'm at home and that's good. Nobody can see me like this. Someone is seeing me like this, but nobody else can.
"Who?" I ask as best I can.
"Bella," says the voice.
I know Bella. She's my friend. Like Emmett. She helps me. She's nice to me.
"I'm sorry," I whimper as I attempt to roll a little.
"Stay put," she tells me softly, a hand on my shoulder to keep me in place. "Just stay put until your stomach settles. And there's no need to be sorry."
"Am," I mumble.
"Okay, you be sorry then, but I don't need your apology," she whispers.
I hear a ripping noise quite close but don't open my eyes. I don't want to be sick in front of Bella again so I keep them closed. Another ripping noise comes close on the heels of the last and then a scratching sound by my head.
I can smell disinfectant and figure she's cleaning up my vomit with paper towels.
"Sorry," I mumble as best I can.
"Shhh," she coos and pats my hair.
I hear her moving and then the sound of her bare feet on the tiles and I panic. "Don't leave," I beg through gritted teeth as I brave opening just the one eyelid again.
It's a bad, bad idea because as soon as the light seeps in I'm retching again.
There's nothing left to come out but the retching continues anyway. My jaw and stomach ache, the muscles bunching and twitching with each convulsion.
"Shhh," she soothes, wiping my face with the wet fabric again. "I wasn't leaving. I was going to take the soiled paper towel out of the room. That's all. I won't leave you alone, I promise."
I hear her footsteps again and even though she's promised not to leave me alone the silence in the small room stretches out interminably. I've no way to know how long she's gone but when she comes back she sits beside me again and her fingers go back into my hair.
"Filthy," I moan, trying to shy away from her touch, knowing I smell bad and probably look worse.
"Let me," she whispers despite that. Her fingers comb through my hair and I can't help but sigh in pleasure as they do.
"Time?" I rasp through a scratchy throat.
Her fingers cease for a moment, probably to look at her watch, "Just after midnight," she whispers.
"Day?"
"Sunday," comes the soft reply.
"What happened?" I ask, though I'm not entirely sure I want to know.
"Shhh," she croons, rubbing my scalp a little harder as she does. "We'll talk about that in the morning. Just rest for now."
"Water," I manage to mumble.
"Try moving a little first. If you aren't sick I'll get you some water."
Her fingers retract from my hair and she puts her hand on my shoulder, helping me to roll a little further onto my back. I keep my eyes closed but relish the feel of the cool marble tiles across my shoulders and back.
She takes my hand into hers, rubbing hard in the soft, fleshy spot between my thumb and index finger. "Breathe slowly," she instructs. "That's it," she praises gently as I slow my breathing to match hers. "I'll turn the lights completely off and when you're ready you try and open your eyes."
She releases my hand and I hear the telltale sound of the switch by the wall being flicked off. She's back at my side, my hand in hers, in seconds.
I crack the same eyelid I'd tried before and although the action itself hurts my stomach doesn't lurch with the intrusion of light. There isn't much in the room, though there is a little bit coming through the door from the bedroom.
"That's good," she says softly and I turn my head a little so that I can see her lovely face. "Hi there," she smiles.
"Hi," I manage to mumble.
"I'll run and grab some bottled water, I'll be right back," she tells me, getting to her feet.
BPOV
I rush through the house winding my way through the maze of hallways to get back to the kitchen. I pull two bottles of water out of the fridge and grab another roll of paper towel from the pantry.
"Is he still throwing up?"
"Jesus!" I shout, jumping back and fumbling for the light switch by the pantry door. "You scared me half to death, Em," I hiss as the light comes on and I can see the body that the voice belongs to.
"Sorry," he mumbles, scrubbing at his jaw with his fist in a bit of a daze. "I heard you come out of his room and thought I'd check how he's doing?"
"He's still on the floor in the bathroom but he's got his eyes open now," I tell him, hoping that was good news but not knowing for myself.
"Keep the lights dimmed," he suggests, "and get him to drink as much of that water as you can, that'll help with tomorrow's shakes and headache."
"I will," I reply quietly.
"I can go and get him into his bed if you want? It's late and you have to work tomorrow," he shrugs.
"I'm good, Em, thanks," I tell him as I move through the kitchen.
He reaches out and tugs on my arm as I go by him. "He doesn't sleep well at the best of times," he says, making it sound like a warning. "He'll thrash and mumble and probably cry half the night. Be prepared for that."
"I'm good, Em," I say again, just as firmly as I had the first time. "I can handle it. Go back to bed."
He nods just once and turns back towards the hall. I follow behind him and wish him a good sleep when we part ways.
Edward's still where I left him, on his back on the bathroom floor, but his colour is a little better from what I can see in the little bit of light there is.
"Do you think you can hop into bed?" I ask as I set the water and the paper towel on the sink counter.
"Maybe," he whispers, sounding a little more like himself.
It takes twenty minutes but he does get up, with as much physical help as I can offer.
He leans his weight against the counter, breathing hard, while I run back into his bedroom and pull back the covers on his bed. I put myself under his arm and hold as much of his weight as I can as we slowly, slowly stumble out of the bathroom.
"Which side?" I ask as we near the bed.
"Don't care," he mumbles back so I choose the closest one and steer us that way.
"Sit and I'll help you get out of your clothes," I tell him, my heart thumping wildly in my chest from the exertion of helping him and the idea of undressing Edward Cullen.
He doesn't protest, he just plops himself down on the mattress, his arms going limp at his sides.
I undo his belt and pull it free of his suit pants and then tug off his socks. He undoes the button and zip on the pants for himself and then scoots backwards a little while I tug on the hems at his feet.
I try not to look at his bare legs, or the black boxer briefs he's wearing, but there's nowhere else to look.
I can feel the heat of my blush creeping up my collarbones but steel myself to finish the job I'd started.
I take each of his wrists in turn and undo his cufflinks, dropping them one at a time onto his bedside cabinet, before undoing the buttons that run down his chest.
I'd seen more of him before when we'd been swimming but this felt different. Not least because it had been five years since I'd last seen his body and he'd filled out and had grown up in that time.
I'd grown up too, since he'd last seen me in a bathing suit.
That too made me blush.
I removed his shirt quickly and threw it on the floor with his suit pants.
"Water first," I tell him as he begins to lie down. I uncap a bottle and hand it to him, cringing a little as I watch his hand shake as he took it to his lips. "Slowly," I warn him, not wanting to upset his stomach and start his retching again. "More?" I ask once he's drained the first bottle.
"No, thank you," he mumbles and slumps back against the pillows.
"I'll be right back," I tell him as I gather up his clothes and rush to the laundry room to set them to soak. I take a few clean washcloths from the linen cupboard there and then rush back to his bedroom.
I pull the covers up over his shivering body and tuck them around his collarbones. I smooth back his hair and then dash into the bathroom to wet one of the cloths. I wring it nearly dry and then I wipe over his face and throat with it, earning a moan for my troubles.
He is shivering but still sweating so I hope it helps ease him just a little bit.
He catches my wrist in his fingers as I raise the cloth to make another pass. "Lie down," he whispers, eyes still closed.
"Jasper's made up a bed for me in a guest room," I tell him softly as I work my wrist free of his fingers and pat the top of his hand.
"Lie down," he whispers again, patting behind himself. "Please. Don't leave me alone."
"For a little while," I agree, "just until you're asleep."
I move to the other side of the bed and slide across so that I'm behind him, above the covers.
"Hand," he says so quietly I have to strain to make out the word. I put my hand on where I think his hip is under the blankets and he puts his on top of mine. "Thank you," he mumbles.
"You're welcome," I sigh as I slide down a little and settle onto the pillows.
I watch the bedside clock tick over, its red glowing numbers the only light in the room.
He starts thrashing at one eighteen.
The crying starts at two eleven.
The pleading for help begins not long after.
Emmett POV
"Open the gate," I tell Jasper as I get to my feet. "You stay out of sight while she's here," I remind him as we watch Tanya edge her car into the driveway. "She'll have seen you last night on the red carpet but hopefully she'll assume you're a part of Sam's crew, not mine directly. You'll find contact details for Caius Vasilii on the laptop. Call him and tell him he should go to Tanya's office now, he'll understand why. Tell him he's got an hour tops. Call Alice; tell her I need Tanya's cell phone disabled immediately. I'll take the bitch to the library. Give me ten full minutes and then send Seth in. If they wake up," I say pointing in the direction of the hall leading to Edward's bedroom where he and Bella both still slept, "keep them away from the library. Lie if you have to, just don't let them see her or be seen by her."
"Done," he tells me simply, already reaching for my laptop to find Caius' details.
I take a deep breath before opening the front door to one very pissed off agent. "Tanya," I say with as much courtesy as I can muster knowing what I know about her.
"Emmett," she hisses as she comes inside.
"Your client is still sleeping so we'll take this meeting in the library," I tell her and begin walking down the hall. I hear her huff behind me but she does follow.
I step aside after opening the door and offer her her choice of seat once we're both inside.
The instant her ass is seated on the edge of one of the armchairs she reaches into her cavernous bag and pulls out a sheaf of papers. "I need his signature on these today," she says with a wan smile. "There was a problem at the bank this morning so he'll need to sign them as soon as possible," she says, handing me the papers.
I don't need to read them to know what's gone on. At the opening of business this morning she presented the authorisation Ed had signed last week and the bank refused to hand over a check.
"That won't be happening," I tell her matter of factly as I tuck the papers down the side of my seat. "Anything else?" I ask casually.
"You don't have the authority to decide what he does and does not sign," she hisses.
"Maybe so, but your client has removed your authority to access his bank accounts so he won't be needing to sign these, will he? Now, is there anything else?"
She doesn't bother to hide her shock. "I want to speak to him," she demands.
"He's sleeping," I tell her with a shake of my head.
"He's my client. I have a right to speak to him," she counters.
"He's your employer and he has the right to sleep when he pleases," I say simply. "Move on," I tell her firmly.
She's been cornered and we both know it. She settles a grim smile on her blood red lips and delves into her bag again, bringing another set of papers to the surface. She doesn't hand these over, instead she skims them and then raises her eyes.
"I've added three extra Q and A's to this afternoon's schedule," she tells me with a smirk. "In light of the PR disaster last night he'll need to add a few more public appearances in the coming weeks to adequately cover the loss of publicity."
"That won't be happening either," I tell her evenly. "He's in no shape to do what's already on his promotional schedule, though he will fulfil those obligations, but he won't be doing extra."
"Again, you don't have the authority to make those decisions. I'll speak to him myself and he can tell me whether or not he's up to making adjustments to his schedule," she hisses.
"He's sleeping and he's going to stay asleep," I hiss right back. "He'll do the four interviews on his current schedule for this afternoon and no more. He'll do the two radio shows tomorrow morning and no more. You can schedule all you like, Tanya, but he'll only be doing what's already been agreed to."
"This is outrageous!" she screeches, leaping to her feet and putting her hands to her hips defiantly. "Who do you think you are? I hired you," she snarls, pointing a talon at me, "don't think I can't make it so that you never work in this industry again!"
I stay seated knowing she'd expect me to lose my temper and rise to her bait. "Ed pays my salary as you well know," I grin up at her now flushed face. "And he's rather happy with how I run things around here so I doubt anything you could say would alter my employment status."
"You can't block me from my client!" she screeches.
"I wouldn't bother wasting the effort, he doesn't want to see you so I don't have to block you," I chuckle.
"I'll sue for alienation," she hisses.
"Go your hardest," I snigger as I get to my feet, taking the stack of papers I'd shoved down the side of the chair with me. "Now, is there anything else I can do for you today?"
She doesn't get a chance to answer because right on time Seth knocks on the door and strolls casually into the room. "You wanted to see me, boss?" he asks casually as you like.
"Would you put these into the safe for me with the others and then call Miss Denali a taxi please, she's leaving," I tell him, handing him the papers.
"Sure thing, boss," he says with a nod and then quickly leaves the room.
"I have my car," Tanya hisses, reaching into her bag once again and coming up with a ring of keys, as I'd hoped she would.
I say nothing but I do move towards the door, holding it open for her to pass in front of me. I walk behind her through the living room and the hall and when we get to the foyer I step around her and open the front door.
She huffs indignantly as she goes by me out onto the front steps. I follow, close at her heels. As she steps down off them and onto the gravel I reach around and pluck the key ring easily from her fingers.
"You won't be needing this," I smirk as I slip the electronic key for the Mercedes she'd arrived in off its ring.
"You can't do that!" she screeches, clutching at the remaining keys in my hand.
It's a simple thing for me to slip the car key into my jeans pocket and then lift the rest of the ring over my head, out of her reach. She bats at my arms and at my chest. "Step back," I bark at her, startling her into doing so immediately. "That is not your vehicle," I snarl, nodding towards the dark blue car. "It's Edward's. He paid for it, it's his name on the registration and he pays the insurance. Therefore it stays here, at his home. I won't bother taking your key to this house off this ring because the locks will be changed later this morning anyway," I tell her as I hold out the ring.
She snatches it up, her face flushed with anger. "You'll pay for this you bastard," she hisses.
"I'll give you the details of my accountant, submit an invoice," I chuckle. "Edward has decided to exercise his right to terminate your contract, Miss Denali. His lawyer is already at your office retrieving the other items you have in your possession that Ed's paid for and continues to pay for. Expect a court order for the things in your home in the next week or so.
"Now, if you'll follow me I'll walk you to the street so you can wait for your taxi."
She glares up at me, barely concealing her anger. "He signed every god dammed thing I put under his nose," she smirks. "There's nothing you can do about any of this without outing his little problem you know."
"And if you were any sort of decent human being you'd tell me what you know about the day Charlie Swan died so I can help the poor fucker recover from it. But you aren't, so you won't, and I'm tired of asking," I tell her as I clutch her elbow in my fingers and tug on it until she starts reluctantly walking with me to the front gates. "I'll give you twenty four hours Tanya," I tell her matter of factly. "Twenty four hours to tell me what you know before I start really digging. If you're hiding something, or are caught up in whatever went on that day I'll find out and I'll fucking bury you," I snarl.
I punch in the numerical code to manually open the gate and after shoving it with my hip to get it open enough for her to pass through I point at it and nod my head towards the street.
She slips through and I slam it shut again.
A taxi pulls up to the curb and as she marches down the drive towards the road and the waiting taxi I call out to her and remind her that she has twenty four hours.
She stops mid stride, turns her head over her shoulder and sneers at me, "I cleaned it up, I didn't do it myself. Dig all you want, you won't find anything else."
EPOV
"Mmm," she moans lowly.
"More," I gasp as I push my hips forward, grinding myself into her.
"Mmm," she moans again as she pushes her hips back, meeting my erection deliciously with the soft, round orbs of her ass.
I squeeze the breast in my hand a little more, pulling her up against my chest and earn a ragged gasp from her as I did so.
"So soft," I rasp into the ear by my lips as I flex my fingers around the flesh in my hand.
"So hard," she moans, jerking her hips forward and then back against me. "More," she pleads.
She...she...oh god!
I leap away as though I've been burned. "Fuck!" I bellow as I fall off the edge of the bed, hitting my shoulder on the cabinet beside it as I scramble for balance before finally giving up and landing on my ass on the floor beside the bed. I leap back to my feet and stare at the woman sprawled on top of the covers of my bed. "Bella!" I shout, noticing she's not fully awake and therefore probably not aware of the fact that I've just had my hand on her...oh god!
My shout is enough to waken her fully and then she's on her feet too, though she managed it rather more gracefully than I had.
"Edward?" she's asking, her eyes pleading with me for something I don't understand.
"I was asleep, I didn't mean to," I plead, holding my hands out in front of myself in a gesture of...well a gesture of something. Unfortunately it doesn't help, it only makes her look downwards to where my hands are and of course she notices the state of the front of my boxers. I watch in horror as her eyes go wide. "Shit," I mutter and turn my back on her hastily. "Um, yeah, I mean...um. Shit," I hiss, rubbing a hand through my hair, trying in vain to make the pounding in my head subside.
I bolt through the open door to my bathroom and only just hold myself back enough not to slam the door shut behind me. I do thunk my forehead onto it though as soon as it's closed.
"I'm sorry," I hear on the other side of the door quickly followed by the unmistakable sound of a sob.
"Jesus Christ," I hiss as my headache ramps up another notch. I pull the door open to find her sitting on the edge of my bed with her head in her hands, crying steadily. "Don't cry," I murmur as softly as I can as I go to her. I sink to my knees in front of her, erection be dammed, and tug on her wrists until I can see her red rimmed, tear filled eyes. "Please don't cry. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean anything by it. I was asleep. Or not quite fully awake. I'm so sorry I touched you without permission."
She chokes on another sob and I wince at the sound. "I was asleep too," she mumbles.
"Why were you in my bed?" I ask as quietly as I can so my head doesn't pound harder from the combination of sound and light.
"You were sick last night. You asked me to stay, not to leave you alone. I laid down on top of the covers. I was going to leave once you were asleep but you were upset and there was never a good time to go. I didn't mean to fall asleep, I promise," she sobs.
"It's alright," I tell her, wiping under one of her eyes with my thumb. "It's okay. If I asked you stay then its okay."
"You did," she says with a firm nod of her head.
"I don't doubt you," I tell her honestly, "I just don't remember asking," I sigh. My muscles are aching and my whole body feels tense and sore so I get up off my knees and sit beside her on the bed, pulling her hand into my lap.
"I liked it," she whispers as she rubs at her eyes with her free hand, her sobbing having eased.
"I did too," I admit just as quietly. "But I feel awful. Not because of what I did, now that I know you liked it it's not because of that," I assure her carefully, "but I really do feel awful. Sore actually. I ache all over. What the hell happened last night?"
"You had the red carpet thing, remember?"
"Sort of," I tell her quietly. "I remember talking to you before we left and I remember facing the press at the wall, after that it's pretty much a blank. God," I sigh, using my free hand at rub at my hair. "Did I take something? I remember telling my dresser that the sweets in my pocket weren't crack, but maybe they were," I sigh.
"The crowd went crazy," she whispers, rubbing with both her hands between my thumb and finger, just the way I like it. "You didn't take anything and you weren't high. It was the crowd. They pushed down the barriers and flooded the carpet. Emmett and Jasper had a hell of a time getting you out of there in one piece."
"I don't remember that. Shit. Tanya must be going nuts," I moan.
"Probably," she agrees, still rubbing my hand. "You weren't exactly yourself when they brought you home and Emmett told me you usually got sick at times like that so I stayed with you."
"You weren't here when we left though, were you? I remember you saying you were staying at home to watch it in front of the TV with your dinner."
"I did. I did stay home to watch it. But when Seth saw what was happening he brought me here with him."
"I'm glad he did," I tell her honestly. "I was sick?" I ask.
"Yeah," she sighs. "And now you have a headache again."
"Yeah," I sigh right back, closing my eyes against the little bit of light coming in through the curtains.
"Go and shower and get dressed and I'll make you something to eat. Then I'll help you get rid of it," she says matter of factly.
"You don't have to do that," I tell her, though I'm more than grateful for the offer she's made. I find myself not wanting her to leave. "Shit, what time is it? For that matter what day is it?" I ask, leaping to my feet once again.
"It's Monday and its," she trails off as she looks down at her watch, "ten twenty three in the morning."
"Holy shit," I hiss, "Emmett's gonna kill me," I shout as I rush towards the bathroom. "I've got magazine interviews this afternoon and you're already late for work aren't you?" I call out as I turn on the taps to my shower.
"I'm the boss, I can be late," she calls out from the bedroom. "Emmett would've come for you if he needed you so take your time. I'll go and find him and see what's what."
"Thank you," I call out as I step under the boiling hot spray.
Emmett POV
I'm boiling with rage when I get back to the office.
"Caius called. He said he's got everything from her office and he's lodged the papers to get everything else from her home," Jasper tells me as he hands me the handwritten message. "Alice disabled her cell phone seconds after I asked her to so unless she stops somewhere on her way back to her building she can't call anyone to hide anything. Seth left the papers you handed him there," he says, pointing to the papers on the desk. "He said you wanted them in the safe but he didn't know the combination."
"I know," I sigh before taking a deep, deep calming breath. "I just wanted the viper to think he did. A show of strength if you will."
"Will she retaliate?" he asks.
"With what?"
"She got anything on him, or you?"
"I've not done anything," I shrug. "As for Ed, we'll have to wait and see. I can't think of a way she'd try but then I don't think like a callous, underhanded piece of shit either."
"Something tells me she's not fond of you either," he chuckles.
I shrug that off. I don't care what she thinks of me personally. "Any movement down that end of the house?" I ask, nodding over my shoulder towards the hall where Ed's bedroom is.
"Bella's on her way this way," he says, turning the monitor for that hall so I can see it.
"On with our day then. We're leaving for the hotel at one. Move that car around to the garage will you?" I tell him, throwing Tanya's key towards him.
He catches it easily in one hand. "The locksmith will be here in an hour," he tells me as he gets to his feet.
"Keep working on that list of Tanya's employees," I remind him as we both exit the office. "Good morning," I say to a dishevelled looking Bella who's coming up the hall towards us.
"Morning," Jasper calls as he heads towards the front door to move the car.
"Morning guys," she mumbles as she goes into the kitchen. "Is it too late for me to make him some breakfast?"
"Go for it," I tell her with a wave of my hand. "We don't have to leave until one so he's got plenty of time. Aren't you supposed to be at work by now yourself?" I ask as I get up onto one of the stools under the kitchen counter.
"I can be late," she shrugs as she fills the kettle.
"Did either of you sleep?"
"Not much," she sighs as she opens the fridge and starts laying out a package of bacon and a carton of eggs onto the countertop. "Where will I find the bread?"
"In the pantry," I tell her. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," she calls from the depths of the huge cupboard. "He's got a headache but I think he's okay too. He's coherent at least," she tells me as she comes back in, arms laden with jams and spreads and cans.
"Does he remember anything?"
"Just up to the press wall, after that it's pretty much gone."
"So nothing different then," I sigh.
"Did you expect it to be different?" she asks, eyebrows raised.
"Maybe," I shrug. "I've never had him come round with someone on hand who knew him before. I thought it might change something."
"Well, he's himself this morning but I don't know if he always is the morning after," she says as she searches through the drawers under the range.
"Frypans are in the second on the left. And he does mostly wake up the next morning as himself though he's hardly what you could call with it."
"Well he knew where he was and when I told him it was Monday morning he remembered he had interviews to do this afternoon."
"That's a good start," I admit. "Did he say anything of note in his sleep?" I ask cautiously.
She cracks an egg into a mixing bowl and then digs out a whisk from another drawer. "He mumbled some stuff about there being so much blood," she whispers. "But he told me about that the other day so that wasn't new."
"He's talked to you about his dreams?" I ask, my interest piqued.
She tilts her head to the side a second and then nods just once. "He has. He says he can smell and see blood and that he wakes up frightened a lot. He says it lasts for hours and sometimes for days afterwards."
"Jesus," I sigh.
"It doesn't make any sense to me. He wasn't there when it happened so I don't know what the blood thing is about," she says.
I have my doubts about him not being there but until I know for sure I keep that close to my chest. "He knows your dad was shot so maybe it's his imagination showing him how he thinks it looked. Things are speeding up."
"You think he's getting worse," she sighs as she tips a can of baked beans into a pan.
"I hope he's beginning to remember things. But it's just a hope right now. But I do know he's getting more upset more often," I say instead of outright admitting he's getting worse. I couldn't face that for myself and I didn't want to burden her with it.
"You're worried it's going to get out of control for him," she correctly deduces. Seth was right, she's a quick study.
"I'm worried that I'm not going to be able to help him deal with the fallout," I admit.
"He knows and understands that you're here for him," she says kindly as she tips the egg mixture into the pan. "The way he put it was that he's okay knowing you're keeping him safe from outside things but he isn't sure he can be kept safe from himself."
"What does that mean?" I ask.
"I'm not a shrink," she shrugs as she stirs the eggs. "But to me it sounds like he feels as though he's imploding. He hears names in his head and I think it might be my dad's name, maybe others, and he doesn't know what it means. I think he's getting worse even though I don't know what he's been like these past years."
"He is getting worse," I'm forced to admit solemnly.
"He's constantly confused because he's missing pieces of his memory on a daily basis. I assume that's because he slips in and out of these other personalities?" she asks as she pushes two pieces of bread down into the toaster.
"He doesn't remember anything of what he does when he's someone else," I agree. "He wakes up as himself but can't work out why he's injured, or sore, or aching."
"He said as much to me," she admits.
"I've thought about having Rose explain it to him. Getting her to tell him about his other personas, but neither of us know if it will help or make things worse."
"You told me once that we might have to hurt him to help him," she says, pointing a spatula at me.
"And if he can't handle remembering?" I ask carefully, wincing at the thought.
"I don't know the answer to any of that," she sighs as she turns over the strips of bacon in another pan. "I'm just trying to do my best to help him, just like you."
We're both silent for a few minutes and luckily so because Edward comes around the corner from the hall just as I'm about to suggest she tries talking to him about Charlie again.
I watch, fascinated, as he goes directly into the kitchen to Bella. He drops a kiss on her hair and whispers something to her, making her blush.
She'd told me that he was himself but this was another new version of himself. He looked wrecked, that wasn't new, but he looked confident and that was. Even a week ago he'd have come out of his room timidly, worried and nervous after a night like he'd had. But this morning he looked in control.
He comes around my side of the counter, mumbles a good morning to me and then holds out his hand. "Thanks for last night," he tells me.
I shake his hand eagerly. "No problem," I tell him.
"How many injured?" he asks after accepting coffee from Bella. "Thank you for this," he says to her.
"Twenty nine," I say sadly. "Thankfully none of them too badly. Some cuts and scrapes and one broken wrist."
"I want to release a statement," he says firmly. "I want to tell everyone how sorry I am they got hurt. I want to pay the medical bills for all of the ones who did and I want to give everyone else who was there free tickets to see the film."
"I'll call Aro," I tell him simply.
He's quiet for a moment, staring into his coffee mug. "I'll sign with him as soon as a contract can be drafted. I don't want to deal with Tanya ever again. Is that okay?" he asks hesitantly.
"Totally your decision," I tell him honestly even though I've had a large hand in making the decision come about. "I'll inform her you're ending her contract immediately."
"I don't want her here. She can't come here again," he says quite firmly.
"Done," I tell him simply.
"I want Bella to have a set of keys for here," he says matter of factly. "And a gate code. And she's allowed to be here when I'm not, anytime she wants. Nothing here is off limits to her. Including the use of my cars. And she can go in my bedroom if she wants. Tell the others."
"I don't need to..." she starts but Ed cuts her off.
"Until Emmett knows for sure who's calling you and watching you it makes sense that you have somewhere to run to if you get frightened. This is a safe place for me and I need to know that you have one too. It's safe here. The whole place is wired. There're cameras everywhere and nobody can get in here. If you get a fright you come here, please," he says rather logically, and quite firmly.
She stares at him for just a moment and then nods. "Okay," is her soft reply.
"I'll make sure the others know," I say, doing my best to hide my grin from them both. "There's a locksmith coming in an hour so I'll get another set of keys made, simple."
"And car keys," he reminds me sternly, to which I nod. "And I want a cell phone," he says matter of factly after setting his cup down.
"You have one," I tell him with a frown.
"I know I do, but it's more like a tablet and it's too big to keep it on me. I don't want to have to hand it over all the time. I want a tiny one, if there is such a thing. One that Angela won't see when she dresses me for events. One that I can put in my breast pocket that won't show," he says so determinedly I can't help but stare at him. "What?" he asks, catching me staring. "Shit happens to me," he shrugs, "I want Bella to be able to call me if she needs me and I don't want to have to ask for the use of my own phone if I want to call her."
"Done," I say simply, impressed and relieved that he was showing signs of taking control of his situation. Finally. "I'll find a tiny, flat one."
"And I want to eat at Bella's restaurant after we're done at the hotel tonight," he says with a grin of his own.
I look to Bella. "Can I book a booth for three of us for tonight please Miss Manager Lady?" I chuckle.
"I think I can fit you in," she giggles back as she slides a plate in front of Ed. "If it's okay I'll go and shower while you eat? I'll have to get to work soon."
"Use my bathroom," Ed pipes up as he turns his plate around and around. "This is brilliant," he smiles up at her, "thank you for going to all this trouble for me."
Her smile is beaming. "My pleasure."
"There're clean towels in the cupboard by the door," he mumbles around his first mouthful of egg. "Jesus these are good," he whistles once he's swallowed.
"I put cream in the mixture," she beams again proudly.
"Next time you come over bring some clothes," he tells her simply.
"I don't know..." she begins but again he cuts her off.
"I got sick last night and you stayed with me. I'm to blame for you not getting enough sleep and being late to work today. You're going to be even later because Seth will have to take you home to get changed before you go to the restaurant. If you leave some things here, and I get sick again and you stay, you won't miss so much work and I won't feel so guilty," he argues.
It's cunning and manipulative and it's the most emotion he's showed in years. I'm so happy I could burst, but I say nothing. He's got this. And from the look on Bella's face she wants this, whatever is going on between them she wants it.
"Okay, I will then," she says with a smile.
"Good. I'll clear some space in my closet," he smiles right back.
I feel like I'm intruding even though she's only cooked him breakfast and he's only eating it. But it's as though there's an understanding between them now and I'm not included. I'm okay with that. I've wanted him happy for so long and with her he might just have a shot at it. They're smiling at one another and I might as well not even be there for all the attention they're paying me, so I get up.
"I'll be in the office," I tell them both. "We have to leave at one," I remind my mark but I doubt he's listening he's so busy shovelling food into his mouth. I pinch a piece of bacon as I go by. I'd had cereal.
EPOV
The day goes too fast. When Bella's around it seems to anyway.
I didn't want her to leave but I knew she had to get to work so I reluctantly see her out to her car and unfortunately Seth is already in it, with the engine running.
I didn't like him all of a sudden. He got too much of her time. He got to spend every day with her, and every night, which I didn't want to think about.
"So I'll see you at dinnertime?" she asks me as we walk towards the car.
"Yeah, I hope that's okay?" I ask, knowing I didn't ask her before I demanded Em take me there to eat.
"I like seeing you," she tells me quietly, reaching for my hand as we walk. She squeezes it just a little and as we come to the side of the car she stays my hand from opening the door for her. "Good luck for your interviews this afternoon," she says, smiling.
"Thank you," I tell her with a little return squeeze of her hand. "I'll get a few minutes in between each interview. Would it be okay if I called you? Or will you be too busy?"
"I'd like that," she grins. "I'll see you tonight."
I open the door for her and reluctantly let her hand go. I wish them both well and stand in the driveway to watch them go out the gates.
It had been a hell of a few days, and a big morning too, but I felt better than I had in...well, I felt better than I could ever remember.
When the gates close behind her vehicle I march back into the house and go straight to the office.
Both Emmett and Jasper are there and they both stop what they're doing and look up at me as I enter. I don't often go in there so I guess it was strange to see me there.
"What's up?" Emmett asks once I'm inside.
I take a deep breath. "Does Jasper know about me?" I ask.
Emmett looks to him and then back to me. "He knows what I know," he says with a nod.
"Okay," I sigh, letting out another held breath. "I want you to talk to Bella about coming to a session at Rosalie's with me. It's her dad that died and everyone seems to think I know what happened that day and what we're already doing isn't helping me remember it. Taking Bella with me, or maybe Rosalie talking to her about what she knows, might help me. What do you think?"
"I think it's worth a shot," Emmett agrees readily. "What do you think?" he asks Jasper.
"I agree with Em. Anything you haven't already tried is worth a shot."
"Will you talk to her about it then?" I ask Emmett but he is already shaking his head.
"No. I won't. You will," he says matter of factly. "She has a right to know what happened to her dad, I agree with you there. But, I wasn't there. I didn't know you then. I didn't know her then. And neither did Rosalie. But you did. I agree that Rosie talking to her to learn what she does know is a good idea, but the request needs to come from you. It's you who needs her help, not me."
"Alright," I concede. "I'll ask her then. But you ask Rose, she scares me," I chuckle.
"That I can do," he chuckles in reply. "She doesn't scare me," he laughs, raising and lowering his eyebrows suggestively.
"What she does to you is your business," I cringe.
"And what Bella does to you is yours," he says much more seriously than our jesting prior. "Nobody in your employ will gossip about it and if they do they won't work for you, or me, again," he tells me pointedly.
"If the press get wind..." I being but he holds up his hand for me to stop.
"If the press get wind of whatever it is that's between you and Bella Swan I'll work closely with your new agent to maintain as much of your privacy as I can. But you can rest assured that the information will not come from this house, anyone working inside it, or any of Sam's crew. It's your business, and hers."
"Thank you," I tell him sincerely. "I like her. We're friends. For now that's all we are. But if that changes I want her protected from the press leeches."
"As much as it's possible to do I'll do it," he assures me. "We'll do it, won't we?" he amends, staring at Jasper.
"We will," he agrees. "And I should tell you that I'm seeing Alice. In the interests of full disclosure," he grins.
"I like Alice," I tell him. "And I already knew. If she's going to stay over again will you consider moving a few rooms down the hall away from my room?" I chuckle.
He had the good grace to blush and then he chuckled too, "If Bella's going to stay over that might be a good idea on both sides."
"No gossiping," Emmett scolded, but he was grinning. "Now, go and get changed and I'll call Rose and ask if she'll see both you and Bella this week."
Having been dismissed, and feeling pretty satisfied with the conversation, I go to my room and do as I am told.
Emmett POV
Everyone involved in these magazine interview formats hated them. The interviewer, the interviewee, the lighting and camera people, and most of all me.
This time around my mark had four separate interviews with four separate – and very different – magazine journalists. Two hotel rooms had been reserved for the duration and they were connected by an internal door.
Hotels were used so that the space used for the interview was neutral ground. Not the subjects personal space and not the journalists territory. It was supposed to put everyone involved at ease. It didn't do that, what it did was piss everyone involved off because of the austerity of the rooms.
While one room was being used for an interview the other would be prepared for the next. It made for a smooth transition but it also made my mark cranky.
Each session would last for half an hour with ten minutes in between each session for him to have a drink and a rest. The hotel was provided and paid for by the production company so there was no consultation with me regarding security. I just had to trust that the hotel itself had taken any and all steps to ensure that my mark would be able to go about his business in private, without the worry of the public getting wind of his stay.
I still had to coordinate the comings and goings in the spare room, check the credentials of the interviewer and the camera and lighting crews and make sure that the hallway outside was secure and safe while my mark was inside either one of the rooms.
The first journalist and his crew had already set up when we arrived so I left my mark in Jasper's capable hands while I vetted their press credentials and checked their recording equipment. When I was satisfied that it was all above board I called Ed in and they got right down to business while I went nextdoor to see to the next group.
"What's this?" I ask, holding the envelope with Ed's name printed on the front aloft after I'd checked their identification papers.
"It was here when we got here," the lighting guy tells me with a shrug.
"You didn't bring it in with you?" I ask as I slide my finger along the seal.
"Nope," the camera man tells me. "I saw it there when we came in too."
I pull the single typed page free and read it quickly, my gut clenching instantly.
I run to the door, pulling it shut behind me. "This was in the room before this crew arrived," I tell Jasper, handing him the page and the envelope. I give him a second to read it and once he's done he asks what I need him to do. "Call Sam. Tell him we need a runner to get this to Alice. She'll know what I want. Tell him to send two of his crew to secure this floor. Two more to secure the house. The last two to secure the restaurant. I want either Sam or Jared to have eyes on Bella's house until further notice too. Then I want you to secure the parking garage and the car we came in. I want the garage swept, the car gone over with a fine tooth comb and I want the names of anyone who's been in these rooms over the past week. That includes cleaning crews, window washers, and room service attendants. Everyone. Go," I tell him as I take out my phone and dial.
"On it, boss," he shouts as he runs for the elevator down the hall.
"What's up, boss?" Seth asks by way of answering.
"There's been a direct, personal threat made to your mark and mine. She doesn't leave your sight. Ever. If she pees you're outside the door. If she coughs you note the time. If her phone rings you note the time, the caller's name and the return number," I bark.
"Done," is his answer.
"Sam will be sending two bodies to the restaurant and he and Jared will swap out to keep eyes on her house. You can tell her there's been a threat made but I'm not giving you details as to what it was or how it was delivered so you don't have to lie to her. I'll give both of them the details when I get there for dinner. Secure your surroundings, Seth," I instruct.
"Done," he says again.
I end the call by reminding him my phone is never switched off and then I go into the hotel room again and pull it apart to find anything else the 'postman' had left behind.
A/N: Thank you for reading.
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