Chapter Eleven--Raw

Edward. Thursday morning.

**

No.

My eyes flew open and my fingers griped the gun tightly, swinging it up and level with the front door in one fluid motion, index finger just barely caressing the trigger.

But as the sleep induced haze worked itself from my eyes, I saw the door was closed tightly, the bolt in place, everything as it should be. I swung my eyes around my small loft and slowly relaxed my grip on the gun, allowing it to fall back on the table beside me. What a messed up dream that had been. I shuddered, pushing fading memories of the blood and screaming far away. My gaze found Bella asleep on the couch and as I put a hand on my neck to massage my tense muscles, I felt my face soften as I watched her breathe evenly in deep slumber.

I had obviously fallen asleep on my recliner. Damn. For countless days and nights I had fought so hard against sleep, though I had known it would eventually be a battle that I would lose miserably. But with Bella present in my apartment I had been adamant that now would not be the time to admit defeat, and instead found myself practically holding my eyelids open, nervously waiting for her to come out from my bathroom. Unfortunately, I never had a chance.

Damn you, La-Z-Boy, you and your ergonomically correct contours. Damn you.

I had had things to tell her. Things she would both want to hear, as well as things she wouldn't—but had to regardless. Time was now a critical factor and I couldn't avoid the talk any longer. Not when she was about to find out very soon, anyway.

I stood and stretched my muscles, my eyes never leaving her peaceful face--all worry, pain and sadness erased from her features as she simply slept. She would never stop captivating me; beauty simply poured with an ease most would envy from every square inch of her small frame and I ached to touch her face, to run my fingertips along her arms, down the sides of her body and across her stomach. I wanted to brush away that stray piece of hair that had fallen across her angelic face. I wanted to kiss her lips softly, slowly. And then I wanted to kiss her with every passion she ignited within my mind and body, something I had never allowed myself to do. I did not want to hold back with Bella ever again.

I groaned softly, running a hand across my face, stopping to lightly touch the scabbed wound from Bella's rock attack. Bella's attack—I had to chuckle soundlessly at the memory of her flailing hands, of the rock that eventually made contact with my temple.

She was brave, I'd give her that. But then, she always had been. I swallowed back the memories quickly, instead noticing the odd tilt of her neck, bent in a way that had her uncomfortably facing the La-Z-Boy. I found a smile, wondering if she'd been watching me sleep.

I suddenly felt immensely self-conscious and glanced around the apartment again. She had been awake and free to wander my humble dwellings and I wondered what she had made of my lackluster abode. Had she been disgusted by what she saw? Had it confirmed something she had already felt toward this version of me?

I shook the thoughts from my head, realizing it didn't matter because today was going to be the day she would find out everything anyways. If, by some remote miracle, she didn't already feel disgusted, she would very soon. I stood watching her face for another minute, enjoying the peacefulness of her dreams and the ignorance of what was to come. If only I could protect her from it all, take her away, hide her and keep her safe until the danger had passed.

That's exactly what you attempted to do for the past five years. Look how well that turned out.

Not only that, but I was beginning to really wonder if I was protecting her from all the wrong people. Maybe it was from me she needed protecting--I seemed to be hurting her more than anything.

I took a breath and removed the cell phone from my pocket. With one last long look at Bella's peaceful face, I padded over to the window near the kitchen and managed to quietly coax it open without its usual groan of disapproval. I ducked my head through the frame and urned my body, pulling my legs through and finally placed my bare feet firmly onto the small space of the fire escape ledge. It was certainly no balcony, but it would do. I wanted Bella to sleep as long as she could. I had no idea when she would next get the chance and we obviously weren't in any immediate danger, or that apartment door would have flown open hours ago.

I punched into my voicemail box and surveyed the street carefully, looking for things that didn't belong. Nothing out of the ordinary…no strange vehicles parked on the street, no random sketchy people walking by. No binoculared strangers in the windows of the building across the street, and no snipers on the rooftop.

I impatiently bypassed the irrelevant messages but focused when Jonze's deep voice alerted me to the third message.

"You need to start fucking answering this thing, Decoy. That's why you have it. Where are you, where did you take the girl? Fucking call me."

He was obviously extremely pissed off with me; purposely not giving me the information he knew I would want, annoyed that I hadn't answered his call.

The next call was from Jasper.

"E. What went down? Shit man, your boys have involved my boys. What the fuck is happening over there? FBI has just listed you as MIA. Call me dude, as soon as you possibly can."

I let out a breath only to take in another, longer inhale.

Shit. I couldn't actually remember the last time The Boss had decided to involve the FBI. Our operation was generally kept very, very far removed from FBI business, as the repercussions of what we knew and what we did where far too serious for the FBI to deal with. They were supposed to put on the good guy face. If anything we did, anything the operation did was ever leaked to the public, the FBI was always supposed to be able to wash their hands clean of us. They were innocent and would always look that way, despite the fact that the government knew what we did, supported what we did and financially backed what we did. Unfortunately, no one could ever know that.

But they were listing me as missing in action? Was that Jonze's idea of getting back at me? Did they suspect me of something? A call-out for an MIA is generally serious, though perhaps not as malicious as I was automatically concluding. Every agent, every police officer, security officer…hell, every fucking mall cop, would be receiving my picture and a number to call if they spotted me. This shit was serious and was making less and less sense to me.

I continued to process his message as the next voice started to speak. I had to strain to hear the words, the voice was so quiet, barely a whisper. I pressed my ear closer to the phone, turning my back to the street to glance in the window at Bella. She was exactly as I had left her. I cranked up the volume on my phone and pressed 4 to replay the message, narrowing my eyes in concentration.

"Decoy, its Seth. I'm somehow still alive, though feeling pretty fucking rough. Not supposed to be on the phone, but I need to talk to you. Can you get into the hospital without anyone seeing you? It's important no one sees you, not even Jonze. I'm at Harborview Medical, room 316. Wait until late tonight, less people around. One security guy at the door. 'Till then, lay low. Don't call me—don't call anyone. I'll explain in person. Bring Bella, if she's still…I heard she made it. If she's with you, bring her."

I had to listen to the message again. And then again, just to make sure I wasn't losing it. Seth was alive. Against everything that I had prepared myself for, had attempted to prepare Bella for, Seth was alive. I only allowed myself a moment of relief in that knowledge before moving on to the more immediately important information.

Seth obviously had learned something. He knew something vital and needed to relay to me what it was…but it couldn't be over the phone and he had been very explicit about me not calling anyone (not even Jonze?) or letting anyone see me. Did that mean Seth suspected someone on the inside of having a connection to the people trying to hunt/hurt/kill Bella? Or did those men from last night send along a message through Seth? Or was there something else going on entirely?

What the hell?

I ran my hand through my hair distractedly and wrestled with the idea of calling Jasper. He would know more from the inside. And I could trust him, if nothing else, I knew that. What I didn't know was if I could trust any form of communication that wasn't face-to-face. I also didn't know one-hundred percent that I could trust Seth. Could it be a set-up? Seth was the most reliable, faithful man I knew. But maybe they had got to him, threatened someone he loved.

And yet, I knew I had to go.

The puzzle was slowly showing its pieces, but I wasn't sure yet how they fit together. I was listed to the FBI as MIA…someone wanted me found very quickly…but why?

Shit.

I needed a new plan, one that included but was not limited to the following: somehow getting to Harborview Medical, Bella in tow, and breaking into Seth's hospital room. Without getting killed or caught. Without getting Bella killed or caught. I would have to put off the conversation with Bella (she would never, ever come with me after that fight) and I found myself feeling, above every other crazy emotion, slightly relieved.

Fucking chicken, I chided myself, not for the first time in recent days. But the thought of 24 more hours with her—with a Bella that, though she may not see Edward Masen anymore, would not despise me. She might even laugh with me. I wanted so badly to hear her laugh. To hear her laugh with me.

I slid through the window, closing it tightly behind me and ran a hand across my face in sudden indecision. I glanced at my watch—12:45pm. I had a bag full of weapons, two faces to hide, a girl to protect and time to kill. Where do I go from here? Wherever it was, it had to be fast. If I was currently listed as MIA, it wouldn't be long before someone came by. In fact, I was surprised no one had come by. But it was only a matter of time.

I wanted to call Jonze, he would know what was going on. But in the end, he would probably order me in to headquarters and I couldn't be there right now. Not when I knew they would take Bella away from me and put her somewhere else. I shook slightly at the thought, knowing very well what could happen to her. She could get lost in an unforgiving "protection" system; I'd seen it happen before and I couldn't allow that to happen to Bella—whether it was for her "safety" or not. She would lose herself, her identity, forever. No, I would listen to Seth. And until then, we would lay low.

As I packed up my messenger bag with the most important information on Gleason and the few sacred documents of my own I'd been keeping locked up in my apartment safe, I had an epiphany.

We had to lay low and I knew just the place.

**

Bella. Thursday afternoon.

"We're going where?" I demanded, a look of pure horror twisting my features.

"Laser Quest," replied Edward patiently, pronouncing each word carefully and then rolling his eyes at me. Like I was the crazy one. I yanked my hair quickly into a ponytail and stood up from Edward's leather couch.

"Why-wha-my life is in danger, people were shooting at us last night, Seth is dead…and you want to go shoot at each other with plastic laser guns?" I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I squinted my eyes and examined Edward carefully. Maybe he'd been abducted while I slept? Maybe those people had found him and replaced him with a robot version of himself, programmed to lead me to them? I tried to peek around his broad chest, looking for—for what exactly? Flashing lights? A battery pack? I sighed and folded my arms, looking back at Edward's face expectantly.

"First of all—the guns aren't plastic," he even had the audacity to look indignant. "Secondly, Seth isn't dead. He left me a voice mail. Sounds like he's not in great condition, but he's alive and holed up in a hospital," he stopped as a grin broke out on my face and I flung myself at that broad, totally un-robotic chest, grabbing Edward in a huge hug and dancing us around on the spot in my own version of a happy dance (uncoordinated and awkward), surprising both of us by my impulsive action. I was jolted by tiny bolts of electricity at every point our bare skin touched and I quickly stepped back self-consciously, tripping slightly as I did so, wrapping my arms around my body. But my grin did not dim even a watt.

"Sorry…I'm just so—that's really great news," I said, my face starting to hurt from the smile. Had it really been that long since I'd smiled? But it didn't matter--I had been convinced they (whoever they were) would not have left him alive. At that thought, my smile finally vanished.

"But how? I mean…how did he survive?"

"You know as much as I do, Bella. He's alive. And he wants us to meet him tonight at the hospital."

"Can't we go now? We'd be safer in the daylight!" I insisted. "Wait…Seth's alive and in the hospital and you want to go play laser tag! There is something sinisterly wrong with this picture. What's going on?"

Edward hesitated, probably wondering how much he should tell me.

"Just," I paused, pushing the frustration aside and starting again, "Just be honest with me, Edward," I advised softly. Edward stiffened slightly and shifted his eyes away from me, focusing instead on the nearby duffle bag of guns.

"We need to stay somewhere safe, Bella, and this apartment is not safe. We've got to go, I'll explain as we walk."

I shot him a loaded look, but followed as he grabbed his duffle bag of goodies and another bag, messenger style, and headed to the door. He opened the door for me and as I stepped through I noticed him taking one last look at his apartment, his gaze lingering on the baby grand. I felt my heart lurch at the sight, but turned away and stepped to the elevator stabbing at the button quickly, my back to Edward. I wanted so badly to know what he was thinking.

Once in the elevator, Edward continued explaining, his eyes back on me.

"Seth has information. But he said to lay low and not let anyone see us. Especially not the law; not Jonze, not Jas—not the FBI—nobody. I think he has intel regarding a mole."

"A mole?" I felt stupid, but the only thing I could picture was the ugly little mammal and I was fairly certain he was not referring to an animal. At least, not in the traditional sense of the word.

"A traitor. Someone who works within my operation or with the FBI has perhaps passed on information to the people after you. Or maybe Seth identified one of the men, or he could have a message from the whoever is after you. I don't know, Bella. I only know what he whispered over the phone. But he said to wait until late; there would be less security to identify us. And they are looking for us, Bella. They've put out word to keep careful watch for me."

I took a moment to let the new turn of events sink into my mind, leaning heavily against the elevator as I did so.

"Okay," I nodded. "Okay."

"Okay?" he repeated, staring at me like I was crazy.

"So we play hide and seek for awhile, until we can sneak in to see Seth. But seriously, laser tag? Do you not remember how I trip over my own feet?" I had to make light of the situation, because if I didn't, I may very well fall apart.

Edward chuckled at that, silent for a minute, probably replaying one of my many embarrassing high school incidents. He chuckled again.

"Yes, I remember. But it's perfect for what we need. No one would ever think to look there, for one. Also, it's dark and we wear safety gear. On the off-chance that some security guard is around, our faces will be mostly covered."

"So, we run around Laser Quest for…what? Ten or so hours?"

"There's a place to eat, too. And a movie theatre next door," he shrugged like ten hours of laser tag was normal.

I sighed as the elevator doors dinged open and shot him another look as we stepped out into the parking garage.

"Fine, but you're paying my hospital bills when I break my ankle. And I want a room next to Seth's. Ocean view would be preferable," I said, only half joking, leading the way to his Volvo.

"Bella? Where are you going?" he questioned, unlocking a car that was definitely not the silver Volvo.

"To the Blood Mobile," I replied, exasperated, giving a pointed look at the Volvo. "What is that?" I asked as he opened the passenger door and waited. It was, in fact, a Porsche Carrera and I could only identify it because Emmett's girlfriend Rosalie was an incredible car enthusiast and this just happened to be her unattainable dream car. I'd seen the price tag. Unattainable.

But I wanted to know what Edward would call it.

"A car?"

I rolled my eyes and refrained from sticking my tongue out at him.

"Okay, fine. But whose car?"

"Uh, Steve Compton's," he replied, sweeping a hand towards the leather passenger seat inside.

"And you don't think this…Steve Compton would mind you 'borrowing' his fancy wheels?" I demanded, refusing to enter the car. I crossed my arms, realizing how silly I was being. So I could handle a killer, but I drew the line at grand theft auto?

"Not one bit, I promise."

"He lives here?" I asked my resolve breaking as I glanced towards the elevator. If anyone saw us…

"Apartment 415," responded Edward, getting impatient, his eyes scanning the garage.

"You're stealing a friend's car?" I blurted, sounding more judgmental than I liked, but sliding onto the softness of the black leather seat. Why did I suddenly care?

"It's mine, Bella. I'm Steve Compton. And Billy Houston. And Samuel Jenkins. And…" he revved up the engine and we took off out the garage exit, leaving the shiny Volvo behind.

I put up a hand to stop him, my mouth gaping open.

"You're…you have aliases?" I asked, thinking of Sydney Bristow and how things went for her. Not always great.

"I have to Bella. Or I probably wouldn't survive."

"So…who really lives in apartment 415?" I asked, not sure if I really wanted to know.

"Steve Compton, officially. Unofficially, not much else than a bunch of my old boxes. Steve is mainly out of town, you see. International businessman," I turned my head to see Edward grinning, as though amused by a private joke.

I rolled my eyes again.

"Your boss doesn't know about your aliases? If there is a mole, they won't know to track this…car," I looked at the posh interior doubtfully, not sure that I could even call it a car. More like a private jet on wheels. At least there weren't any blood stains. I glanced around. At least, none that I could see.

"Nope. Well, they may. But only if they really have been digging into me these last couple years, following me. I would hazard a guess and say I have never been important enough for them to do that. I've always been a model employee." I cringed at the thought of his picture going up on the office wall under 'Employee of the Month!' "But we're going to ditch this car for Billy's before we get to Laser Quest and then grab Samuel's on the way to the hospital. Luckily, they are both also out of town, so I don't think they'll mind. We should be covered."

I felt a little sick to my stomach as I pondered the need for such a messed up life. I remained quiet, and wondered again who exactly Decoy was and if it was actually possible to even know him. As I watched the unfamiliar scenery pass by, I knew we were far from my bubble.

Edward pulled the Porsche into a seedy back alley that led to an open lot beside a pier. Before we reached the lot, Edward pulled a sharp right turn into a rundown garage and parked his car. I glanced around uncertainly as I pushed open my door, dreading what the next vehicle might look like, but also kind of reluctant to leave the dream world of the Porsche. Rose and I suddenly had one more thing in common.

"Relax, Bella. It's a truck, not unlike the junk heap you drive around town."

I opened my mouth to defend my beloved truck but then suddenly stopped in my tracks halfway to the Ford F-150. Edward, having just manually unlocked both doors, turned to look at me.

"How do you know that?"

"How do I know what?" asked Edward, his eyebrows coming together.

"That I still drive the truck?" my heart beat raced ahead as the questions I'd been ignoring bubbled to the surface.

"I don't—I mean... I just assumed you'd still have it?" he answered, his voice raising up at the end, forming a question. I didn't answer, but I walked the rest of the way to the truck, biting my lip hard and avoiding his eyes as I slid into yet another strange vehicle.

Something was wrong. Something was off…something that cut much deeper than the obvious surface issues. Decoy had more secrets than Edward had had…and soon, I was going to have to start questioning.

Neither of us said a word as he pulled out and turned the truck back towards the city, but my mind was working overtime, attempting to figure out where this had all gone wrong.

**

Edward. Thursday night.

Had giving Bella a gun, though loaded only with laser light, been one of my more brilliant ideas? Hell no.

But I'd fucked up and she was onto me, and the out of character aggression that had Bella lasering the hell out of me told all. How much longer could I hold off the conversation? Bella was no fool. It was only a matter of time…increasingly diminishing time.

We were presently en-route to Harborview Medical center and the silence resonating from Bella was almost painful. I wanted so badly to say something, anything, to make it all better. But we both knew there were no magical words—and hell, she still didn't even know exactly what to be mad about, other than the obvious.

"Bella--" I hesitated. I had no idea where to go; I merely couldn't stand the silence. No, I generally welcomed silence, reveled in it. I couldn't stand her silence.

"You kill people for a living and you couldn't even beat me at laser tag?" she muttered.

And then, "Whose blood is in that Volvo?" she caught me completely off guard. Startled, I glanced over at her. Her face was turned away from me. She stared out the passenger window.

"Yours, "I answered, after a moment's hesitation. She turned her head towards me, obviously surprised by my answer.

"Mine?" she narrowed her eyes at me, confused.

"After you were run off the road by the mustang," I explained. "I was following you…you were unconscious, so you don't remember, but I took you back to my apartment."

Her mouth opened, as though to say something, but there were no words. Instead, she put a hand to her forehead, where the deep cut resided, rubbing at it slightly.

"I tried to stop the bleeding the best I could," I admitted, "But I couldn't do enough. I had to take you in to headquarters, to Doc; you were in and out of consciousness." I was scared you were going to die, I added silently.

Bella straightened herself, still rubbing her head.

"That's how you knew I still drove the truck. You pulled me out of my truck," she said, more to herself.

I hesitated to answer, but at that moment, the hospital came into view and suddenly, a plan was the most important thing and I found my focus shifting.

Bloody fucking chicken.

"There is an employee entrance around the back, close to the ER admittance. We're going to go in that way and take the employee elevator up to the third floor. Seth's room will be the first door on the right when we get off. There may be a security guard at his door. If there is, you're going to be our distracter. You'll be looking for the nurses' station, which is three hallways over. Use your charm, Bella, and get him to show you the way, that's important. I need to get in that room without being seen. Meet me back in the truck as soon as you can. If there is no guard there, we're golden, at least for the moment. You got all that?"

Bella's face somehow turned an even paler shade of white but she nodded.

"He won't be on the lookout for me?" she said quietly, her arms crossed across her stomach.

"He shouldn't be, no. If he is and he recognizes you, say you've come to see Seth. You don't know where I am—I dropped you at a hotel and took off. The less information, the better. Don't get specific and if he lets you in, don't let Seth tell you whatever it is he needs to tell, not if the guard is present. Get out as fast as you can. I'll be close if anything happens." I had pulled into a back lot by that point and stuck a gun in my belt. I took a key card from the messenger bag and then slung the bag across my chest.

"Ready?" I asked, turning to Bella, attempting to convey my confidence in the plan through my eyes. I'm sure I failed miserably. Bella nodded, but she looked wary.

As we approached the employee entrance, I silently thanked dear dead Mr. Robert Sinclair for allowing me to kill him in his hospital room a few months ago. Well, allow may be too strong a word. Perhaps required was better. I still had the employee card to get in, and knew the hospital layout well.

Bella shook her head as the door beeped open, but didn't ask and we quickly ducked into an elevator going up. We stood silently across from each other, my eyes trained on her face, her eyes looking everywhere but at me.

"I never meant to hurt you, Bella," I said suddenly, inadequately, my voice quiet over the loud hum of the elevator as it climbed to our destination. Bella's eyes were now very much on me as we gazed at each other silently. She took a step towards me, her lips parting as though to say something. And then, suddenly, her lips were on mine, her arms around my neck, and she was kissing me and I was kissing her and my skin tingled and burned at her touch. I didn't dare open my eyes for fear of ending it all and as our tongues met, touched and intertwined, I could feel raw emotion emanating from Bella's touch, from her lips, her tongue. There was ferocity, quiet desperation and a scared little girl seeking something I couldn't name. I responded by pouring every ounce of emotion I felt for her, gently though, afraid of scaring her, afraid that this moment would be the end. My hands had worked their way through her soft locks and came to a rest cupping her face, one hand on each side, my right thumb rubbing gently across her left cheekbone.

There was nothing familiar about this kiss. We had never been this raw with each other, ever. And yet this kiss was not a kiss with barriers, this was the most honest and open kiss we had shared.

This kiss told our story.

Her back now pressed against the smooth metal of the elevator suddenly stiffened as time caught up and announced its presence with a quick swish of opening doors. I didn't step back, but her lips had left mine and she stared up into my face, looking shocked and sorry. But her eyes told another story—a familiar spark had taken up residence and as I slowly released her face from between my hands, I smiled slowly, crookedly.

I smiled Edward Masen's old smile and Bella Swan's old favorite smile.

"What floor?" asked a voice, as two nurses got on and I stepped back, my eyes still on Bella's flushed face.

"Second. You two getting off?" asked the other nurse, eyeing us curiously.

"Yes," I replied quickly. "We are. Thanks." I took Bella's arm and steered her onto the third floor. We were close and as I casually glanced down the hall I breathed a sigh of relief and felt Bella do the same beside me. There was a chair outside of Seth's room, but it was empty. Still holding Bella's arm, we walked quickly to the door. I pushed it open gently with my foot, keeping Bella behind me, my other hand resting lightly on the gun tucked in my belt.

"Seth!" breathed Bella, stepping from my grasp and quickly closing the distance between the door and Seth's hospital bed. I watched as Bella awkwardly reached around the tubes and monitors and carefully took Seth's hand.

I closed my eyes once, briefly, shifting gears, and then walked over next to Bella, a half-smile on my face.

"You should see the other guy," croaked Seth feebly, his eyes barely open due to puffiness and bruising. He looked like hell. He was bandaged and wrapped, bruised and battered. And he had done it all for Bella. He didn't have to; in fact the organization did not encourage its agents to put themselves in no-win situations…and five against one counted as unwinnable.

"Seth, I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry. You saved my life," whispered Bella quietly, tears streaming freely down her cheeks. Seth's eyes opened slightly wider as he took her in. His mouth turned up slightly.

"I thought we were both done, Bella. I was sure they would get to you. I couldn't hold them off for very long…" he trailed off, coughing deeply. "I shot a couple of them, but Jonze tells me there were no bodies on the scene when they found me and not a trace of blood other than my own. These guys are good," he coughed again. "Ugh. Not one of my better days. Decoy," he beckoned, his eyes turning to me.

And then suddenly, as though we were stuck on a horribly timed and completely un-funny sit-com, the door opened and a doctor walked in, papers in hand.

"How are you feeling, Mr. Clearwa--" we had all turned to stare at the man, a different type of dread on each of our faces. But instead of being greeted with shouts and accusations, the doctor simply stopped mid-sentence, his eyes on Bella, his mouth opening. My muscles bunched, ready to take action.

"Bella! What are you doing here? Alice--" he stopped and looked closely at me and then over to Seth.

"Bella?" he repeated her name uncertainly. "Is everything-"

Bella had initially frozen in place, but when the doctor repeated her name, she moved, taking two steps and hugging the doctor quickly.

"Carlisle, hi! Can we step out to talk? My friend really wanted a chance to say hi to Seth after we heard what happened." Bella looked me quickly in the eyes, her cheeks still flushed, sending me an unmistakable message: hurry the fuck up.

Of course. Carlisle Cullen, Alice's father and a doctor at Harborview. Shit, I was losing my touch. Luckily, he followed Bella from the room and I let out a breath. Bella was right; this would have to be quick.

I turned back to Seth, my eyes mirroring my desperation.

"Decoy, there's a traitor among us, somewhere. I don't know who and I don't know how, but someone betrayed us. The people that shot me, the people that found the safe-house…they were given the information by one or more of our people, they laughed about it, they laughed at our naivety. Decoy, I don't think it's Bella they want. I think they're using her, I think they want to hurt her. Kill her, maybe."

"Why, Seth, why would you think that?" I plead with him, begging him to think. I needed something, I needed help.

"I heard them talking, after they'd shot me and kicked my ass a bit. They thought I was dead; but I was very much alive. And conscious," he laughed with a bitterness I would never have thought I'd hear from Seth Clearwater.

"I don't know what the hell is going on but I think someone wants to use Bella to get to you, Decoy. Someone wants to hurt you and I think they will kill Bella to do it."

I shouldn't have been surprised—I was a fucking hit man. I killed people for a living. There had to be hundreds of people who wanted to see me hurt…or dead. And yet, I still felt as though I'd been punched in the stomach. Because using Bella to hurt me? That was a new piece of the puzzle—someone knew the past relationship between Edward Masen and Bella Swan. Someone knew that I once was Edward Masen. And someone knew that Bella was my one weakness. Clearly this was someone who didn't know me well --by fucking with Bella, they were playing with a very deadly fire.

Because while I didn't much care for myself anymore, Bella remained the most precious part of my existence.

While my head reeled, Seth's eyes closed, worn out for the night. I gave him one last look, memorizing the zigzagging lines of the stitches and the placement of bullet wounds, and then slunk silently to the door, ready to rescue Bella from whatever would greet me on the other side.

But as the door opened and a small body flew at me, fists pummeling, I was about to realize how completely unprepared I really was for what came next.

A/N: Wow. So you'd think I'd be nicer to you guys, seeing as many of you have just tuned into this fic and are "meeting" me for the first time—but there I went with a small cliffhanger, anyways. And I'm not even sorry!

The past couple weeks have been HUGE for my humble little tale. As most may know, Détruit had not made it through to the second cut of the Indies so imagine my utter surprise when I found out it won a Judges Award for Special Merit! In addition to that craze, Détruit also was beautifully recced by Emibella on The Lazy, Yet Discerning Ficster, which is a complete honor for me to have my story up there next some of my own favourite stories and authors. What a week. Oh and yes, my vacation was amazing, thank you all for asking. It meant this chapter was longer coming, but I hope the wait was worth it, though I overestimated the amount of anger. That'll be next chapter.

And as always, thank everyone for reading, reviewing (my inbox has been flooded, and I LOVE it!) and reccing my story. If I had a sexy Assassinward to give each and every one of you, well, I would unselfishly be handing him out like party favors.

Keep up the awesomeness and tell me, whose fists are pummeling the hell out of Edward...and why? Let's hear your guesses!