A/N: Thank your continuing support! I truly appreciate all of your reviews, favs, and follows! So…let's check in on Emmett, shall we?

As always, I don't own Twilight, Stephenie Meyer does.


EPOV

Detective Adler was bent over the letter still lying unobtrusively on the kitchen table. "And it was just taped to the door?" he asked, snapping on a pair of latex gloves.

"Yes," Marcus replied as he exhaled loudly. "I was heading out to my car and only noticed it as I was coming back in."

Adler read through the note one more time before picking it up by the corner and sealing it into a plastic Ziploc bag with the word 'EVIDENCE' emblazoned in red across the front.

"We'll see if we can lift some prints off of it, so I'll need to fingerprint you, Mr. Volturi, to rule yours out."

"My prints are already on file with the police department, detective," Marcus retorted causing Adler to raise his eyebrows in surprise. "You don't work as many criminal cases as I have without jumping through a few hoops."

Detective Adler harrumphed and then turned his attention toward me. "I'm here as a courtesy because Mr. Volturi interpreted this note as some type of a threat. You'll have to enlighten me here, Mr. Masen. While the note does exhibit a devious undertone, there is nothing outwardly threatening within the statements themselves."

"I realize that, but we have our reasons for being worried," I sighed, running my hand through my unruly hair. I chanced a glance toward the living room where Rose and Bella sat huddled together on the sofa whispering quietly. My heart hurt as I thought back to Bella's near hysterical state earlier after reading the note. I would protect her from that monster if it was the last thing I did. "Detective, I sincerely hope you'll take our concerns seriously. These people…this family…means everything to me."

"Of course," Adler responded before taking out a small wire bound notepad from his coat pocket. He sat down gingerly at the table and flipped through several pages before settling on a clean sheet. He patted the pockets of his shirt, coat, and pants before finally producing a pen to continue his interview. "Now, the note is signed 'J'. Any idea who that might be, Mr. Masen?"

I cleared my throat and crossed my ankle over my knee. "I believe it's James Monroe-"

"James Monroe? Your father's murderer?" he scoffed and leaned forward on his elbows, tapping his pen against the table. "Mr. Masen, James Monroe is serving his time further upstate. I seriously doubt-"

"James escaped from California State Prison over three months ago," Marcus interjected. "There was an incident at the bar and I thought it prudent to make a phone call just to give Edward some peace of mind. It was then that we learned of the prison break. The local police have apparently been trying to locate James, but have no clue as to his current whereabouts."

Shock flashed across the detective's face before resuming his look of indifferent professionalism. "You'd think they'd have the decency to notify the victims," he mumbled under his breath. It was the first display of compassion I'd seen the man exhibit. "I'll have to confirm your allegations of course, but even if your information is correct, what makes you think that this note came from James Monroe?"

Marcus quickly relayed the events that occurred with Emmett at the bar almost two weeks ago, glossing over the details of Emmett's explosive recoil.

"Do you think Mr. McCarty could pick his assailants out of a photo array?" Adler asked, his eyes never leaving his notebook as he scribbled furiously.

I shrugged as I kicked my feet out in front of me. "Probably…Emmett's pretty good with faces." That was a fucking understatement. Emmett had a damn near photographic memory. When he worked for Whit, Emmett was the muscle. It was his job to track down whatever miscreant owed Whit money and persuade them to pay up. Remembering faces was just part of the gig, but Emmett was exceptionally good at it.

Adler snapped his notebook closed and stood from his seat. "Then I need to see Mr. McCarty right away. Look…I wish I could do more, but without a blatant written or verbal threat my hands are tied."

"It's fine, detective, I'll take care of security," Marcus responded. "You just find that asshole, James."

Detective Adler nodded, tucking his notepad back in his pocket and heading for the door. "I'll be back in touch in regards to the fire at the bar after I check out this information regarding Mr. Monroe and speak with Mr. McCarty."

Rosalie jumped off the couch and raced toward the detective. "Hey, are you headed to see Emmett now?"

"Yeah, I'm going straight there before I head back to the precinct," Adler confirmed. "Do you need a lift?"

"Yes, please," Rosalie beseeched. "I need to get back to Emmett." She gave me a long sideways glance, her eyes warning me that she would be spilling the beans to Emmett in regards to our earlier conversation.

Fuck.

"Rosalie, maybe we should all go together," I pleaded. "I promise we won't be that much longer here. Marcus and I just need to get some security squared away-"

"It's alright, Mr. Masen," Adler interrupted. "She'll be perfectly safe with me. I'll see her up to Mr. McCarty's room."

Double fuck.

I sighed and ran my hands through my hair, tugging at the roots. I gave Rosalie one more pleading look, but she just smirked in response before heading out the door with Detective Adler in tow.

Sensing my distress, Marcus was already on his cellphone securing around the clock surveillance. He ushered me toward the couch while speaking swiftly in hushed tones into the receiver.

I shuffled through the living room and took a seat next to Bella. She was incredibly pale and her eyes were dull and listless. Her whole demeanor seemed defeated and weighted with a heavy weariness. "Hey," I whispered, grasping her hand in mine and linking our fingers together. "You okay?"

She shook her head softly, refusing to meet my gaze. "James knows I'm here," she mumbled. "He'll come for me-"

"Sweetheart, I know you're scared, but please believe me when I say I won't let him come near you." I scooted closer to her and pulled her legs up over my lap. Her little body was shaking, so I pulled a blanket down from the back of the couch and wrapped her in it. "Bella, I promise I'll keep you safe."

"You can't promise that, Edward," she whimpered. "He's deranged! I mean, he killed your father! He's just toying with us!"

I could tell she was getting worked up again and that was the last thing I wanted, but two sides of my conscience were warring with one another. By all rights, I could send Bella away...hide her somewhere until this sick fuck was apprehended. God knows I had the resources, but I just couldn't bear the thought of her being away from me. Honestly, I couldn't explain it. Never in my life had I been so hung up on a chick as I was on Bella. Her unintentional intrusion into my life was slowly changing the way I looked at the world…and how I looked at myself.

Hence, my dilemma. James knew she was here…with me. A weakness to be exploited.

"Shh, Bella," I cooed in her ear, pulling her tighter to me. "Listen to me. You're right…James is a demented fuck and, at one point in my life, he held all the control over me." Her lip quivered as she stared up at me. "But I'm not that same person anymore, sweetheart. I won't allow him to tear me down again, but more importantly…I refuse to let him have you. No way."

Bella sniffled quietly as she buried her face in my chest. "I want to be the bigger person here, Edward. I want to be strong and tell you that you should let me go, but I'm too scared," she wailed. "I don't want to go back to James or Whit…back to that life! I just want to be with you!"

Marcus reemerged from the kitchen and looked at me sympathetically. "Is she okay?"

I shook my head no, while gently pulling my fingers through her hair. "Marcus, I need a guard-"

"I've got a security crew coming to the house later this evening, Edward."

"No…I mean a guard especially for Bella." She gasped as her eyes shot up to meet mine. "James specifically mentioned her in that note. Until he's back behind bars, I don't want Bella left alone for a second."

"The same goes for you, Edward," Marcus acquiesced. "I'll assign a guard to you both. Hope you can stomach his overbearing ass, Bella. You're going to be stuck with him for a while."

"I'll manage," Bella mumbled as she wrapped her arms around me and tucked her head under my chin. "Thank you, Edward. I can't tell you what this means to me."

"You don't have to thank me, sweetheart," I sighed, dropping a kiss to the top of her head.

Marcus smirked at my small show of affection. "You still want to go to the hospital, Edward?"

I nodded slowly while trying to disentangle myself from the blanket that had somehow twisted its way around mine and Bella's bodies during our conversation. "I just know Rosalie is going to air all my dirty laundry and I'm not really sure how Emmett's going to take it. I'd like to get there soon to try to mitigate the damage."

"He cares about you, Edward," Marcus smiled. "Don't discount him just yet."

"No, I'm sure he'll come around eventually. It's just…he's a big guy, you know? Believe it or not, I've been on the business end of his fist and that shit fucking hurts." I threw on my Chucks and glanced back over at Bella while she tugged her shirt back into place and smoothed her hair. "I've got to run upstairs. I'll be right back down and then we'll go, okay?"

"Sure," she smiled and rolled her eyes. "I'll be right here…eagerly anticipating your return."

"Smartass," I mumbled, taking the stairs two at a time. During the days we had been sequestered together, Bella had really started opening up to me. Even though she never graduated high school, she was smart as a whip and funny too. Her sense of humor played in sync to my own, making her all the more easy to talk to and fun to be around. At least for me anyway. She was still pretty skittish around others.

I rounded the corner into my bedroom and strode straight over to my nightstand, opening the drawer and rooting around in the back until I finally reached the prize.

My wallet.

I hadn't laid hands on this fucker in almost a year. It reminded me of everything I wanted to forget…my family, my history, even my own fucking identity. But with the current shitstorm swirling around me, better to have it and not need it than need it and not have it. I quickly flipped through to make sure that my driver's license was still there as well as the few photos I carried of my parents and Carlisle and Esme. Satisfied with the contents, I made my way back down the stairs where I found Bella and Marcus in the midst of a quiet conversation.

"Everything okay?" I asked, noting the distressed look on Bella's face.

"Yeah," Bella mumbled. "Marcus and I were just discussing a few things."

My temper was quick to flare as I thought back to Carlisle's verbal assault on Bella. I'd be damned if I'd let anyone else in my family disrespect her. "Marcus, I swear to God-"

Marcus held his hands out in front of him as a sign of surrender. "Edward, she's fine. I was just answering some of her questions."

"It's okay, Edward…really," Bella sighed. "I was just asking about the added security. You know, the uh…additional men…that will be around. I mean, I'm still not really…comfortable…"

Fuck, I was an asshole. I quickly scooped her up into my arms and planted a kiss on her forehead. "I'm sorry, Bella. I should have realized. We could get a female guard if that would make you more comfortable."

She shook her head slightly, her fingers scratching lazily through the hair at the back of my neck. "Marcus said the same thing, but he also asked that I wait and meet the team he had selected before making that decision."

"I trust his judgment completely if that makes you feel any better." I grinned down at her hoping to reassure her and calm her nerves a bit. Her tentative smile was all the answer I needed. "Shall we go?"

They both nodded in agreement as we headed out of the house and down to the car. The ride to the hospital was rife with tension; the anticipation of my chat with Emmett gnawing away at my insides. It took almost a full five minutes to make myself leave the car once we had pulled into the parking lot and each step toward the burn unit felt like a death march to the electric chair.

As we turned the last corner toward Emmett's room, I caught sight of Rosalie. She had just left Emmett and was walking toward me with a stern look on her face, inspiring very little confidence that I would come out of this unscathed.

"How is he?" I asked, my voice shaking with dread.

"Lucid…and waiting for you." Her face was a stony mask, giving away nothing.

Bella glanced over her shoulder, her hazel eyes clouded with worry as she gazed up at me. "I could come in with you," she offered sweetly.

"No, I need to speak to him first," I sighed. "Why don't you guys head to the waiting room and I'll be there shortly, okay sweetheart?"

She nodded at me as Marcus took my place behind the wheelchair and pushed her down the hallway. I took a deep breath, steeling my resolve before opening the door and stepping into Emmett's room. His blue eyes met mine right away, his lips set pressed together in a thin line. We stared at one another for a few moments before I hung my head in shame.

"You're pissed-"

"Damn right I'm pissed, Edward. We've known each other for a whole fucking year!" he shouted, sitting up in his bed. "What a waste…" he sighed shaking his head in disgust. "I mean, for fuck's sake, we could have had Sports Center all this time. Do you even realize how much hockey we've missed?"

My head snapped up at his declaration, shocked and a little confused by his reply. Of all the things to be pissed about…

"Really, Emmett? You're pissed about hockey?"

"Sorry, bro, I've never been a big football fan," he snickered, his whole body shaking with the effort it took to contain his laughter.

I just shook my head at his silly antics, relieved that I still had my best friend. "Seriously, Emmett, I'm sorry I kept this from you."

"Dude, do you honestly think I didn't know something was up with you? I mean…I'm no fucking Sherlock Holmes or anything, but you weren't exactly discreet."

Well now he had my fucking attention. I was always incredibly careful. All of my mail was sent to Marcus and I didn't even carry my driver's license, all in order to keep my real identity a secret. "How did you know?"

"It was the little things I guess," he sighed, reaching his wrapped arm out toward the pitcher of water perched atop the rolling table.

I rushed around the foot of the bed and filled a Styrofoam cup, repositioning the straw and holding it to his lips. "What little things?" I asked, intrigued by his response.

Emmett took a long pull of the cold water before settling back against his pillows. "Thanks man," he mumbled as he shifted around a bit to get comfortable. "So, yeah…the little things. Like how you've been at the halfway house for fucking ever and how you seem to take personal responsibility for every tenant in the house, asshole or not. You must've apologized to Rose a thousand times for bringing Royce home…like it was your decision. And remember Peter? He'd relapsed and went back to work for Whit, but then here you came riding in to save him…although you did fucking shoot me. I should have been really pissed about that."

We both chuckled at that little admission, causing Emmett to grimace a little with the movement. He was right in his assumptions, though. Looking back now, I took a much more active role in the day to day aspects than I originally thought. Guess I wasn't so sly after all.

"Then there's that whole situation at the bar," Emmett sighed wearily. "I promise I wasn't snooping, but Marcus asked me to drop off some ledgers and stuff at his office…for the accounting, you know? Well, you don't have a personnel file back there like everybody else. Everyone has a folder because Marcus requires all that direct deposit shit, but there's not one scrap of paper in that back office that says you're an employee of the bar. Odd, don't you think?"

He had me there. "Perceptive fucker, aren't you? I think you're in the wrong line of work."

He snorted in response. "Yeah, well like I said, I'm no detective. I just notice shit is all. Honestly, I had no idea who you really were. I kept thinking you were ex-mafia or something. When Rose explained who you were…well, it just all clicked."

"Clicked?"

"Yeah, I don't blame you. You're one of us, Edward…a degenerate searching for redemption." His face took on a pained expression as he looked down at his lap. "The fact that you have money doesn't make you a different person or your personal struggles any less difficult or painful. This may be your program, but you're a participant just like the rest of us. So…thank you…for everything you've done for us."

"Jesus, Em, you don't have to fucking thank me," I sighed, running my hand through my hair nervously. "Like I told Rose, I'm here with you guys because it helps me too. I struggle just like all of you. And the bar…I work there because I'd rather do an honest day's hard work than have anything handed to me. I just don't need the paycheck, so I never took one. More than anything, the bar's just a way to help the tenants earn some money to get back on their feet."

Emmett looked positively stricken at my words. He gulped loudly and tried to continue, but his voice was thick with emotion. "Fuck, man, I'm so sorry about the fire."

"Emmett, the fire wasn't your fault!" I exclaimed, shaking my head in disbelief. "You could have died in there. What the fuck were you thinking?"

"I saw the fuckers who started the fire, Ed," he shouted excitedly as he stared back at me. "They were in the back storeroom and the place reeked of gasoline. I grabbed the chick, but the asshole ponytail guy hit me from behind and then tossed a match before I could stop him." Emmett averted his gaze and lowered his voice to barely above a whisper. "I tried, man…but the place went up so fucking fast. It was all I could do to grab Rose and get the hell out of there."

"The blond ponytail guy that jumped you in the alley? He was the one that started the fire?"

"Yeah, him and that red headed chick," he sighed. "Dude, I'm so fucking sorry. I shouldn't have provoked them that night."

I sank down in the recliner and hung my head. I should have known. James fucking Monroe.