Weather the Storm

by SexyLexiCullen

Part Two: How does the head of the world's most powerful crime family juggle being a father, husband, and boss? Surrounded by trouble, Edward tries to manage his organization while struggling to spend time with his children and wife, Bella. Sequel to Quiet Storm. EDITED TO MEET THE TOS. FULL STORY CAN BE FOUND ON TWCS, where you'll need to log-in. A few passages are missing

14. Bucked Up

Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. No copyright infringement is intended. Beta'd by HollettLA. Translations by Vulcaniana.

SPECIAL ANNOUNCEMENT: THERE WILL BE AN OUTTAKE CAPTURING EVENTS BETWEEN CH13 AND CH14. IT WILL BE POSTED SEPARATELY FROM THIS STORY. SORRY. PEOPLE KEEP COMING AT ME AND UNJUSTLY REPORTING ME - it could be jealousy, I don't know. AND I'D LIKE TO KEEP WTS POSTED. I'LL TRY TO NOTIFY YOU ALL THROUGH FACEBOOK/TWITTER AND IN AUTHOR NOTES. THANK YOU FOR UNDERSTANDING.

ALL THAT BEING SAID, IN THE NEXT FEW CHAPTERS . . . Things will get graphic, gritty, serious, deep - I don't even know how to describe CH15 & CH16. All I can hope is that my storytelling abilities are clear/that you all understand what is going on . . . I'll post the necessary warnings. I'm still not sure if I should just edit those parts out and post the chaps whole on another site. If I go that route, I will inform you - try to. (shrugs)

In any event, those of you who are still with me by chapter 17, will likely never flounce. Sadly, I expect quite a few of you to. LOL. I really pushed myself and the proverbial "envelope". This is NOT a fairytale - never said it was. And please don't leave me hate-filled reviews. That's just sad, but if you do please don't be a coward. Sign in - use your name :)I did, however, promise a HEA and no cheating. Keep that in mind and have faith in me.

The next few chaps are like a roller coaster. Remember to hold on tightly, keep your arms and legs inside the cart. Keep tissues handy, and sharp objects far.

Oh, and enjoy the ride.

"Weather the Storm"

Chapter Fourteen: Bucked Up

When I woke up, I was surprised and so happy to see Edward sleeping beside me. For the past two weeks, he's barely been home—sometimes spending the night at Eclipse or even Midnight Sun. He's on alert, doing the things he has to, while trying not to bring his shit home with him. By shit, I mean, emotionally frustrating garbage. He denies it, walks around acting like he doesn't have a care in the world.

I say, "Call a spade a spade", wishing he'd open up to me.

Needless to say, he's going through so much and has the world on his shoulders. I have no idea how he processes it all, but that just makes him great at what he does.

The F.B.I. has even taken to following me everywhere. So, even though they're technically the enemy, I feel just a little safer. They've searched the house, hauled Edward in for questioning, and I heard from Nicole that one of the associates was actually arrested. She heard it was some guy named Carmine. Having no idea who he was, I didn't give a fuck—not that it mattered. He was killed in jail—right on Riker's Island, and we went to his funeral last week—along with services for a few others.

Along with the Feds, I always have Nunzio, Lou, or Mauro with the kids and me. One always drives, while the other two trail close behind in another car.

I also carry the small handgun I have a permit for in my purse.

Save for dropping the boys at school and picking them up, my education was put on hold once again. It just wasn't feasible, and I became a stay-at-home mom again.

We're good, though. Esme and Nicole are also being guarded—any wife of a capo is, I'd imagine.

Still, having Edward asleep next to me made me giddy. Maybe things were slowing down? His arm is a lot better. He doesn't even wear a bandage anymore.

Either way, I didn't care. I missed my husband in a few other ways, too. Maybe the arm fucked him up, but we hadn't had sex since days before the whole fiasco started. Usually, a good orgasm helps to clear our minds—I know it helps me.

While he slept soundly, I shimmied out of my sweats and panties, and then I quietly—so as not to alert him just yet—crawled on top of him. "Edward?" I whispered, sliding down his body, as I pulled the sheet over my head.

Just as I started to pull his boxers down, he roughly grabbed me by my hair, and I was tossed back. Scared out of my mind because he was rougher than what's considered kinky, I covered my face when he hovered over me. Then I felt the hard barrel of his nine, digging into my neck—just under my chin.

"Ed-Edward." I swallowed, my heart hammering away in my chest. His eyes were unseeing—like he was dreaming with his eyes open. He was looking through me, not at me. I hadn't even noticed the Glock—how quick he was to grab it. Is he sleeping with his gun now, too?

"Edward?" I cried, his hold on my hair and the pressure of the gun increasing. "B-baby?" I was sobbing now, afraid to move a muscle.

He blinked and, in less than a second, he let go. "Be-bella?" It was a nervous stammer, not my nickname.

All I could do was cry and cover my face—apologetic, shocked, and still so frightened.

"Look at me." He pulled my hands away. "I'm sorry. Love, I'm so fucking sorry." He softly kissed my lips a few times, soothing me.

"N-not as sorry as I am," I whispered, sucking in a shaky breath. "What the fuck was that?" I pushed him away to sit up.

He licked his lips, his eyes focusing on mine. "I just—I haven't slept so, so deep."

"Your guard is up," I guessed.

"Yes." He nodded, palming my cheek and hovering—gently—over me again. "I'd never hurt you." He nuzzled his nose to mine, and I was able to feel his heart beating away rapidly in his chest. "Never, ne-never. I'd die before that shit'd happen."

And as much as I wanted hold that stunt against him, my stomach tied in knots—never wanting him inside of me so much. "I know."

"I just—baby . . ." He kissed me deep, squashing me to the bed and placing my legs around his waist. "Christ—I'm so sorry." His mouth trailed down my neck, and I held his head to me. Everything he did felt so right.

And I missed him so much.

My feet made quick work of kicking his boxers off. "Fuck me, Edward." I was jostled as he held me closer, holding my ass to him with one hand and lining himself up to my pussy with the other.

"I love you—I'd-I'd—" he entered me roughly to groan, "never—hurt—you." His body moved with his words.

All I could do was hold his head, turning mine to the side, getting lost in him. I kept pulling and pushing his head, like it had some control over his hips. He felt amazing, and I felt whole.

"I love you." In my periphery, I saw him lightly toss the gun across the bed. My eyes focused on his Glock, wondering how much use it's gotten, and I let out a loud moan. "Take this shit off." Edward leaned back, sitting me up and tearing my shirt away before he jumped for me. This time, he ravaged me, palming and squeezing my tits while he placed rough—frenzied—kisses everywhere.

Then he had to hold his hand over my mouth when I got too loud. "Shhh." He went slower, coming all the way out to come back in. I felt every inch of him.

"More," I said, muffled by his hand and holding my legs up. They came to drape over his shoulders, and he leaned forward—touching his head to mine and getting so deep.

"Fuck." Edward went faster, reaching to massage my clit with his thumb and I stiffened—never coming so fast in my whole entire life. His lips covered my scream as I clawed at his back. "Damn, baby." He scraped his teeth down my jaw to bite my neck, and then he was gone.

Edward dipped low to lick up and down my pussy, and I sat up to watch and palm his head. "Good-fucking-pussy." He seemed crazy again, lifting me up and turning me around.

Knowing what he wanted, I didn't put up much of a fight and got on my knees—never truly coming down from my orgasm. My pussy was so sensitive, and then he was inside of me again—going so fucking fast and so hard, it hurt.

It was the good ache, and I bounced back off of him—wanting more pleasure, more pain, and more of him.

"Fuck!" He spat, holding me close just for a second, before he pushed and pulled me a few times. "Shit."

He came, and then I felt his weight drop on top of me.

Feeling awkward, for reasons I didn't know, I didn't say anything—just knelt there with my ass in the air, while he leaned on me. "I'm sorry." He panted.

"I know," I whispered.

He left me to grab and hold me tight. "I'm so fucking sorry."

"I get it," I said, still feeling euphoric but needing to say something important. "We have three small children, Edward. Damion still sneaks in bed with us—"

"It was stupid. Mauro has that fucking cold, and I felt bad for him staying outside. Lou and Nunz had the night off—figured I'd be a good watch dog." He shrugged, with me in his arms. "Valente offered but . . . I was going to be home. You know?"

I didn't reply.

"Bella." He made me look up to him. "If anybody reached for that gun, I'd have woken up."

"You don't know that." I felt angry and pushed him away. "What if you did what you did to me to one of the kids?" I folded my arms across my bare chest.

He sat up and groaned, pushing his hair back. "I fucked up."

Since Edward doesn't easily admit when he's wrong, I was kind of at a loss for words. "Yeah." I nodded.

He grabbed for his boxers and put them on quickly. "It'll stay in my drawer or the safe." He hopped out of bed, placing his nine in his top drawer. "Better?"

I nodded. "Thank you."

He crawled back over to me, making me lie back. "I fucking missed you." His hands spanned the width of my chest, and then roamed lower. "Damn . . ." he sighed, bending low to kiss and fondle my breasts. But then I heard Kylie cry through the baby monitor and stiffened. "She'll stop." Edward's fingers entered me, and he sat beside me.

"Stop." With everything that's been going on, if Kylie makes a peep I run in to make sure she's okay.

Edward groaned. "Stay here—just like that." He sucked his fingers back into his mouth and winked. "Don't move."

"Just go." I hugged our comforter to my chest, and then turned for my t-shirt. Knowing our time was up—whether Edward liked it or not—I put my underwear and pants on, too.

My dressing was right on time, as I heard Damion's little feet stomping down the hall. Still, I smiled when he burst through the door. "I heard Daddy."

Giggling, I pointed out of the room. "Check your sister's room."

His eyes widened. He turned, looking down the hall and back to me. "Morning, Mommy." I got a toothy grin before he disappeared.

"Morning, my love," I whispered, tying my hair into a knot while I walked into the bathroom. Looking in the mirror, I had that "just fucked" glow, and I smiled at myself.

Edward poked his head in while I was turning on the shower. "We're done?"

"What gave that away?" I smirked.

"I'll join you—"

I opened my mouth to respond, but then pushed him out. "I haven't had a peaceful shower to myself in over a week."

He pursed his lips. "And I've barely been home all week."

"Go give the kids breakfast, Edward. Please? That—that'll be better than an orgasm."

"You lie." He slapped my ass, using that hand to hold me closer. "You still love me?"

"More than anything." I hopped to kiss his nose. "More than that, if I get to shower without interruptions."

He grinned and kissed my forehead, letting me go.

/=/=/=/=/=/

Dressed and ready to take the kids to school, I watched Edward let out a loud yawn and scratch his balls at the kitchen table. "What?" He sniffled, wiping his nose with his hand.

"Nothing." I grabbed a washcloth to wipe Kylie's face. She wore more cereal than she ate. "Keep an eye on her while I bring the boys?"

Edward, only in boxers, nodded as he sipped his coffee, but then his eyes landed on the boys. Sonny, who was proofreading an essay we wrote last night, and Damion, who was drinking the milk out of his bowl. He grinned at each of them, and I knew he missed them.

"Guys? Go get your backpacks and jackets," I said.

They listened, which they have been doing lately, and left the table. Once they were gone, I sat in Edward's lap. "Be home for dinner tonight?"

He puffed his cheeks and a breath. "I have a thing."

"And the boys miss you." I kissed his cheek.

"I'll see what I can do. Are you staying home or going to the hospital?" he asked, holding my face.

I shrugged, not sure if Esme can babysit today. As much as I can, I try to get down to that hospital. Aro is still in a coma. At first, he was medically induced, but when they stopped sedating him, he never woke up. I swear to God he can hear me, and so when I do go, I try to coerce him into waking.

Lauren is a phenomenal bitch—boy, was I wrong about her. There's not much to say, besides the fact that she's not the person I thought she was. Not only did I believe she loved Aro, but I thought she was my friend—and yet she ignores my calls. What if Aro doesn't make it? His children won't even get the chance to say goodbye.

Esme is another story. She went to see him, and the floodgates opened. You could hear her sobbing all the way in the Bronx, and so she doesn't visit quite as often.

Edward is in a class all his own. He won't go visit until Aro wakes up—doesn't want to see him like that. He swears he hasn't gone, but a nurse told me that sometimes Edward sneaks in at night to visit—when no one is watching or there.

Mostly, it's Carlisle and me who are always there—waiting.

"I thought maybe we could have the afternoon," he whispered.

I smiled. "We can pull the boys out at noon, or they don't have to go in at all. That way—"

"What would I do with them? They can't even get in a car with me. We can't do anything," he argued.

"You can sit, play video games and watch TV." I nuzzled my nose to his cheek.

"I'll be home for dinner." He kissed me. "I'll move shit around—promise." He patted my ass, like it was time for me to get up. "Let me make some calls."

I was still smiling as I watched him leave the kitchen, happy he was making an effort today. Most women wouldn't, but I understand my husband. There's some crazy shit going down, and so he feels the need to distance himself from happiness and emotions—and this house is filled with both.

On our way to the school, I turned off the radio. Sometimes, I do wish I was none the wiser, or maybe that we didn't get New Jersey news here in New York. Every few days, there's a new unsolved murder—that they know about. Edward has told me that some prefer to make their dead disappear. Others like the show. It surprised my husband that the Feds don't have the murders under wraps. He says, usually it would stay hush-hush until they had something concrete.

I don't want my boys listening to that shit.

Plus, I happen to know that my husband has others do his bidding.

I hold on to that thought.

New Jersey isn't the only "family" suffering. In total, four of Edward's associates have been killed—including that one who was in jail. Also, the young girl who worked at Midnight Sun is missing, too. Edward said so—that she just hasn't shown up for work in a week—but I haven't heard anything on the news, so . . .

Nunzio walked us into the school.

"Is Daddy gonna be home for dinner?" Damion pushed his glasses up. It was drizzling, so I pulled them off and wiped them dry with my sweater.

"We'll see—"

"But Daddy said he was," he whined.

"Stop," Sonny said. "If he's stuck at work . . ." He shook his head. "I'm going to be late for homeroom." He walked away.

"Love you," I said softly, knowing how uncool it might be for anyone to hear me. Then I turned back to Dame when he pulled on my sleeve.

"I don't feel good." He held his stomach, and I knew he was lying.

I placed my hand on his forehead. "No fever." Grabbing his hand, we turned down the hall.

"Please, Mommy—" He pulled my hand back.

"You know what?" Nunzio spoke, for like the first time ever. "My old man used to work a lot, and it was cool." He crouched down to Damion. "You know why?"

Damion frowned, shaking his head no.

"Because when you work hard, it pays off." He poked Dame's stomach. "My dad used to work night and day, and then he'd be able to take us on vacations. Then, I'd see so much of him, I wished he'd go back to work." Nunzio tickled him, which made him laugh.

"You're going to be late." I bent low to kiss his cheek.

Damion turned to wave behind me. "I see Sally." He ran to his friend.

Nunzio and I stared after him. "Was your father . . . connected?" I asked.

He shrugged. "My pops took off with some broad when I was three—heard he was a degenerate gambler. That sounded nice, though, right?" He winked.

"Real nice." I snorted, practically running back out to the car.

"Don't be mad."

I turned, laughing. "I'm not. It's funny, and yet sad."

"Yeah." Nunzio kept his head down as he helped me into the car.

As soon as he started the car, I turned the radio on. By now, music played and I guessed the news was over. I steadily listened, hoping to hear more, but it didn't happen.

Before we pulled into the garage, I recognized the black Hummer parked out front. Edward must have moved a few things up to get home early.

And I was just glad to see him off, so I sprinted into the house—not only to get out of the rain, but to thank him.

When I entered the house, Nunzio followed me in, and we were greeted with Edward's cousins. Kylie was still in her highchair, and I wondered if Edward lost his mind, leaving her alone with these two guys.

"I was only inside for a minute." Edward was suddenly in the doorway, while I was still staring at the scene.

Fuming, I didn't say word—ready to play my role. "Coffee?" I gave Edward a fleeting glance.

He slumped his shoulders, knowing I was pissed and jerked a thumb behind himself. "I'll go shower." He turned, leaving.

"Sì. Grazie," Tasso said, smiling.

"'Sup, baby C?" Nunzio gave Kylie a little fist pound and that made me smile.

While my back was turned, Tasso and Valente spoke a hundred words a minute, going so goddamn fast. Throughout the years, Aro had taught me a word or many, and I took two semesters of Italian. I also always try to listen. Nunzio barely speaks comprehensible English, so I couldn't ask him.

"Youse are rude," Nunzio commented.

"Like-a name a Nunzio you cannot speak—Non si può parlare italiano, eh?" Tasso laughed, and I understood that.

"You live in America, and you can't speak English, ya fuck!" Nunzio spat.

"Buck!"

"Oh!" There was a chorus followed by a round of applause by the three men.

Valente laughed, reaching to tickle my daughter. "Bella bambina . . ."

Kylie actually giggled, which is something she doesn't do with strangers. She's warmed up to Nunzio, and yet hasn't with Lou.

"Wow," I commented, cracking a smile. "She likes you."

Valente smiled and cooed, "E io come sua madre . . ."

"Excuse me?" I asked.

Tasso slapped Valente's back. "She's as beautiful as her mother." That wasn't what Valente said.

"Right." I swallowed, wanting the Italian swine out of my house. I've met many people through Edward who are from the "old country", as they call it. And they're all so sweet and respectful. Something about these two rubbed me the wrong way. They had that Carlisle swagger times ten—makes my skin crawl—but they're good soldiers or whatever, would die to protect my husband.

While I poured the carafe of water into the coffee maker, I heard the ass end of a sentence—phrase, "mezza morte," which I know means half-dead. Then I strained to make out their words, but heard "New Jersey". I guess there's no Italian word for that. The New Jersey family was half-dead.

"Huh?" I mumbled to myself, grabbing for a few mugs.

"MC, have a seat." Nunzio kicked one out for me.

I shook my head, wanting to keep busy and wait for Edward. Not thinking better and with my back turned, I bent to grab the disinfectant spray out of the locked cabinet under the sink.

"Nostro cugino se la passa proprio bene," Tasso said.

"Si... una casa enorme, una moglie bellissima," Valente replied, and I stood up to keep my back to them. Tasso just admired Edward's life, saying he has a nice one. Valente said Edward has a big house and a pretty wife. Although I was tickled pink to have understood, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up.

"In English, por favor." Nunzio chuckled.

"That's Spanish," I laughed, thankful for his presence. Nunzio wouldn't dare do or say anything stupid. He's too busy kissing my husband's ass to pay attention to mine.

"Right." He nodded, getting up to go to the fridge. "Did'ju make breakfast?"

"Edward did. We had cereal." I sprayed down the counter. As much as I wipe this fucker down, the granite should be losing color—if that's possible.

"Guarda che sedere."

I turned to see Valente pointing at me.

"E quelle labbra, mamma mia!" He kissed his fingers as he spoke of my ass, while Tasso smacked the back of his head and stared right back at me. "Potrei farci un paio di cosette con quelle." Valente kept talking, unaware of my glare; meanwhile, I couldn't make that one out.

Tasso who now had full eye contact with me said, "Ha anche un bel viso. E la gravidanza non l'ha rovinata," he said something about my pretty face and kids, and my body—my figure?

Valente laughed, "Me la scoperei proprio," he said he'd fuck me.

My mouth made an "O" shape, while my stomach tied in knots. "Voi due siete disgustosi!" I had learned that one from Nanny and, of course, in true Nanny fashion, I waved my fist too. Then I scooped my daughter out of her highchair and stormed into my bedroom to slam the door closed.

"What?" Edward was shaving and poked his head out of the bathroom.

"Do you—do you—" I groaned, plopping down on my bed at a crossroads. If I dared to tell Edward what they said or what I thought they said, he'd kill them.

"What's your problem?" He continued to shave without the mirror.

"Nothing." I huffed, scoffed, and felt dirty. "You know . . .?" I shook my head.

"Whatta ya shittin' ya pants about now?" He sounded like he was annoyed with me because the accent was just that much thicker.

"I miss Aro," I whispered.

He let his hand holding the razor drop. "Me, too."

"He moved his foot yesterday—"

"I know. The nurse said—" He caught himself and grinned at me.

I gave him half a smile. "You don't have to lie about caring."

"I can't show any weakness. It's one thing to visit, but—"

"Keeping vigil makes you look like a pussy," I said.

"Pushy." Kylie clapped.

Groaning, I hugged my daughter and wished I—as her mother—could watch my mouth.

Edward stared at her, wearing an odd expression. "I hope she grows up to be a lesbian—"

"Edward!" I shouted.

"What?" He put his hands up. "Just the thought of some motherfucker—"

"You shouldn't be thinking about that." I pushed Kylie's hair back to kiss her forehead. "That's weird."

"I wasn't being a pervert." He placed his hand on his chest. "You know what I mean. God HELP the man that even THINKS he can date my baby girl. That's all I'm saying . . ." That nut job continued to talk as he disappeared back into the bathroom. Then his head came out again. "Maybe she'll be a nun?"

"YOU!" I wanted to throw something at him, but my hands were full. "You want to be a nun?" I looked down to Kylie. My poor baby had no idea what we were talking about, and yet shook her head no.

"Pushy." She pulled on my necklace.

"See?" Edward shouted.

"Enough!" I hollered back.

"No!" Kylie squealed for reasons unknown to me. I bet she hated how loud we were being.

/=/=/=/=/=/

Esme was on her treadmill when I arrived with Kylie. The housekeeper let me in. Patiently, I waited for her to finish her workout.

"Just put her in the pen." She panted. "I have five more minutes. By November, I mean, I hope to run in the New York City Marathon."

I rolled my eyes. "Okay." I sat back, snuggling my sleepy daughter to my chest.

"Oh, hey, MC." Marcello limped into the living room.

I smiled and waved, looking from Marcello back to Esme.

And doing so, as I also thought about Carlisle, made me appreciate Edward a lot more. "Thanks for keeping an eye on Kylie."

"I can't do it." Esme slowed the treadmill down to a walk. "I've—I've lost five pounds."

"It shows." I nodded. "As soon as I saw you, I noticed." Her ass looked a bit smaller, and I was a bit envious.

"I'm doing the Lazy Zone diet? I have it all written out and it involves some math, but I guess it's working." She sucked in her stomach, as if I wouldn't notice.

"Cool." I shrugged.

"Yeah, cool . . ." She turned away from me.

"Aro moved his foot yesterday, and his eyelids keep fluttering," I said, waiting for a reaction. Maybe I'm evil, but my sister in-law doesn't show too much emotion.

Like I said, I'm a bitch because I knew my words would make her cry.

"Really?" She sniffled, coming to a stop.

"Yes." I hugged Kylie.

It's just fucked, and I'm fucked up—we're all just fucked up.

/=/=/=/=/=/

After Nunzio and I bought cups of coffee, we headed up to the ICU. Since all the nurses looked pretty busy, we went straight for Aro's room. It wasn't as quiet as I would expect, and he had visitors.

Candace, Carlisle, and Anthony sat next to his bedside. The sight made my stomach roll, and I was immediately angry—so vexed, my hand squeezed my coffee cup, which made the hot liquid spill onto my hand.

"Shit," I hissed, backing away from the room.

"You all right?" Nunzio took the cup away from me.

I licked the coffee from my fingers. "Yeah . . ." I looked around for a tissue.

"Bella?" Carlisle came out of the room.

Grabbing a napkin from Nunzio, I stared up at Carlisle. "What is she doing here?"

My brother in-law was fast to place his hand on my bicep and usher me away from the door. "Relax. There's no reason to be like that."

"Oh, no?" I folded my arms across my chest.

Carlisle sighed. "Are you ever going to forgive me?"

"Don't change the subject." I looked away from him.

"Candy's brother and Aro used to be close. When Donovan was killed in Iraq, Aro looked after her. She's like his little sister—"

Bristling at the word, I wasn't sure what to say.

"You're not his wife—"

"What does that have to do with anything?" I asked, trying to keep my voice down.

"You have no say as to who can visit." Carlisle shrugged.

"Hi!" Anthony waved, leaning his torso out of the room. "Where's the baby?"

I smiled despite myself. "Babies aren't allowed in the ICU. Good thing you're such a big boy, huh?"

Anthony stood a little taller, which made me genuinely grin.

"How are you?" I asked.

He shrugged a shoulder. "Can my cousins come to my birthday party?"

My head whipped to Carlisle, who had his eyes clamped shut.

"Miss Bella?" Anthony stood right next to me now.

I crouched down to him. "When is your birthday?"

"In like—" He picked up his fingers.

"November 13th," Carlisle said.

I nodded. "That's a long time from now, but I think we can make it. Thank you for reminding me."

"Cool." He wrapped his arms around my neck for a second, and then ran back to his mother.

"Thank you." Carlisle took my arm, helping me stand again.

"I didn't do that for you," I whispered. "What kind of game are you playing at here?" I stared up at him.

He ran his hand through his hair. "B, I have no idea what I'm doing. Would you believe me if I said I was just trying to keep everyone happy?"

Slowly, I nodded—because I could believe that. In my heart, I know my brother in-law isn't a bad person. He just makes bad choices, and someday I'll know the definitive difference.

"I'll never regret him. He's my son. Even if he's a product of a huge mistake—Christ, do you get what I mean?" He wore a frown.

"It's not only what you did," I said so low. "It's what you withheld from the family, which made me do what I did . . . that I can't forgive." Feeling awkward after that confession, I studied my boot.

Carlisle tilted my chin up to smile at me. "You would've shot him."

I shrugged, looking down again. "Would you believe me if I said I only remember like . . . snippets of that day? It plays like a dream—a nightmare—now."

Carlisle pushed my hair back, sighing.

"Back off." I stepped away.

"I was being soothing." He put his hands in his pockets.

"Don't." I shook my head, knowing the gesture was innocent. It still irked the fuck out of me.

"Carlisle?"

We both turned to Candace.

"Mrs. Cullen . . . hi." She put her hand up, while she held Anthony's hand with the other.

I gave her a tight-lipped smile and waved. "Call me Bella."

"We were going to grab lunch . . ." Carlisle rocked back on his heels. "Did you maybe want to join us?"

"Oh . . ." I was surprised by the offer.

"I'm pressed for time, so we're eating here," he finished.

I rubbed my stomach, while Nunzio handed me back my coffee. "I'm good. I have to pick up Kylie and then the boys . . . my time is limited as well." My head jerked to Aro's room.

Carlisle and Candace nodded. "It was great seeing you." She looked down to Anthony.

I nodded. "Likewise, um, I should—" I pointed past them.

"Right. Be careful, Bella." Carlisle winked, and then gave a look to Nunzio. "You better be on point."

Nunzio nodded. "You got it."

"Miss Bella?" Anthony hugged my waist.

And I loved him already. "It's Aunt Bella." Smiling, I rested my cup on a counter to hug him back—squeezing and shaking him to make him laugh. Damion cracks up with those hugs—when his legs come away from the floor and swing—it worked for his cousin too. "Be good." I let him go.

He ran back to his mom, grabbing her hand as all three walked away from us.

"That was awkward," Nunzio commented.

I nodded. "It was."

"Why were you trying so hard with the kid, though?" He sipped from his cup.

"You're talkative today." I walked around him to go into the room.

"A lot on my mind . . ." He trailed off.

"Hey, Aro," I whispered, walking in slowly to have a seat, while the sounds of the respirator and the EKG machine filled the room.

"Look . . ." Nunzio pointed to the monitor attached to the machine helping Aro breathe. "He's taking more breaths on his own."

I smiled, while some tears spilled. One of the first times Nunzio came here with me, a nurse explained how the machines worked. Nunzio was being flirtatious, trying to keep the young nurse talking. But we learned a few things that day. It's marked, the respirations Aro does himself, and the ones the machine does for him.

And today, he was taking every third breath by himself.

"Good job," I whispered, holding his hand.

The bandage around his head was smaller, too. He used to have something that looked like a turban, but now only half his head was covered. His skin wasn't as pale as it usually is, which I thought was amazing. He looked to be sleeping, just with tubes and wires hanging everywhere.

Aro has always been a big guy—six-foot-three, at least, over two hundred and thirty pounds, and yet he looked smaller—sunken into the bed almost.

Movement in the corner of my eye caught my attention. "Stop that."

Nunzio was pinching Aro's toe. "What? Maybe he'll wake up. Get a match—give him a hot foot."

I ignored him, staring up at Aro. "I think you can hear me." Waiting for a response was something I'd never get tired of. "Edward misses you—we all miss you, so you have pull through . . . okay?" I sniffled and wiped my tears away from his hand.

"MC?" Nunzio asked.

"Yeah?"

"What'd those jerk-offs say to you earlier?" he asked, sitting on the opposite side of Aro.

Shrugging, I laughed through my tears. "It's not important."

"You should have told the Skip."

I nodded, my eyes landing on Nunzio. "I don't expect you to understand, but . . . words are meaningless and—" I really didn't want to elaborate.

"We should get food." He nodded.

"We'll stop before we pick up Kylie." I sat back to stare—just stare, because there's not much else to do besides hope. "Did you see that?" Sitting forward, I could have sworn I saw his finger move.

"No offense, but . . ." Nunzio frowned. "Even stiffs move. It's the nerves or something."

"Shut up," I spat, increasing my hold on Aro's hand. "Wake up."

After waiting over ten minutes and encouraging him, he still hadn't done anything.

"I saw this movie once," Nunzio laughed. "This kid was in a coma after falling down a flight of stairs. He was in this coma for like ten years or some shit, and then his buddy takes this bat, right?" He brought his arms back like he was going to take a swing. "And he knocks his friend, which wakes him up." He clapped, sitting back.

There was nothing funny about what he said, even if I did laugh. And I wasn't about to call him stupid, even if I wanted to.

But then, suddenly, a loud ringing made me jump. It was an alarm, like a fire alert.

"What's going on?" I asked.

"Hell if I know . . ." Nunzio stood to go out into the hall.

"Attention staff, patients, and visitors: please be advised that we're in a code gray . . ." They repeated that message at least five times.

"What's that?" I asked.

Nunzio drew his nine and closed Aro's door. "I don't know."

Inside I was panicking because I had no idea what was going on. "Just relax," I told myself, grabbing for Aro's room phone. When I tried the operator, I got a busy signal.

"Please be advised: We are in a state of lockdown. Do not leave the area in which you are . . . Code Gray, emergency room. Code Gray, emergency room . . ." Now that message was said five times.

"Carlisle." I grabbed my cell to try him, and received his voicemail. "Shit."

"This could be like . . . I don't know, like a fire drill?" Nunzio made a face.

"And we're sitting ducks here?" I went to look out the window, seeing multiple cop cars. "This isn't a fire drill."

"Let me call Lou."

"Yes!" I sat tight, staring at Nunzio while he called his buddy. While we're here, Lou usually drives back and forth between the school and the hospital to make sure everything's okay. When we're ready to leave, we just call him. Lou must have answered his phone because Nunzio started speaking rapidly in hushed whispers.

I went back to Aro. "You have to wake up." I didn't know what to say anymore, especially since a huge part of me wondered what Aro will wake up to. His kids are across the country, and Lauren's a . . . I groaned, getting so antsy.

"Call your husband." Nunzio ended his call.

"Not until I know what's going on." I shook my head.

Nunzio's face fell as he sat on the windowsill. "Carlisle and his chick were leaving . . . some shit popped off. Lou's tailing whoever. I don't know why we're shut down here."

I gasped, holding my stomach. "What do you mean popped off?"

"Someone just tried to take out Carlisle. Supposedly, he and that chick were hit. I don't know—Lou took off real quick."

I sat there silent for a second, wondering what I should do.

"I'll call the Skip—"

"No," I whispered, needing to think. Here I was, locked in this hospital. My kids need to be picked up from school in two hours, and Kylie is at Esme's.

Esme will run down here.

The boys are at school.

Carlisle was shot. Candace might be shot.

Anthony was here. "I have to go," I said, standing up. "I can't just . . ." After putting my coat on, I placed my purse over my shoulder.

"What are you talking about?"

"You think they're going to arrest me for leaving?" I asked.

"Call your husband."

Reluctantly, I did so. Edward was already on his way here. His father is going to grab the boys from school, pick up Kylie, and take them back to his place. Ed Sr. was with Edward when he got the phone call.

"There's no danger at the hospital—I don't know why it's shut down," he said.

"Are you sure?" I asked.

"Yeah—look, I'm pulling into the garage now." He tried not to sound it, but I still heard the panic in his voice.

"Love you," I said.

"Love you, too."

Ending the call, I looked up to Nunzio. "Edward says there's no danger here."

He nodded. "After you take someone out, you don't usually linger—" He stopped talking when a nurse poked her head in.

"Um . . ." I stared at her.

She looked to Aro and back to Nunzio's gun.

"Put that away." I smacked his hand down. "He's nervous," I told the nurse.

She continued to stare at Nunzio. "There could be a maniac running around the hospital." She backed away toward the door, a look of fright on her face.

"He isn't . . ." I pointed, as I watched the nurse run from the room.

"Fuck!" Nunzio spat. "Where can I put this?" He was already wiping his prints from his nine.

"The toilet?" I scratched my head, wondering how long it would take for police officers to storm the room.

"Good idea." He slid into the bathroom, which is never in use, and came right back out again.

We both looked back to Aro.

"It's not like it's his," he said.

"Let's get the fuck out of here," I said, slowly opening the door. We were able to see the nurse talking rapidly to her coworkers, while she was also on the phone.

Since the alarm system was still going off, we were able to sneak into a stairwell.

"Please tell me you have a piece with you?" Nunzio hovered closer as we ran down the stairs.

"Yes, and it's mine."

"Relax."

By the time we made it to the ground level, we were winded and thoroughly fucked. "It won't open." I kept trying the door. It seems you can get into the stairwell, but you can't get out.

"Give me your heat." Nunzio held out one hand, while he fished a silencer out of his pocket.

"Oh, no." I hugged my purse to me.

"You wanna live in here?" He quirked a brow.

I groaned, going into my purse to hand him my gun. "Wait." I peered into the tiny window to see that it looked desolate on the other side. "Okay." I stood back.

"I hope it fits."

"I have my own." I dug into my purse to get my silencer out of the side pocket.

"What do you need me for?" He winked, twisting it into place. "Stand back in case it ricochets or something—behind me."

I moved to stand directly behind him, while I heard the small pop.

"Did it work?" I whispered, peeking around him.

He laughed as he jiggled the handle, and then opened the door.

"Thank you." I warily waited for him to go first and put my gun away.

The corridors remained quiet until we got closer to the emergency room. That was when we saw a team running by with a stretcher. Nurses and doctors worked over someone as they moved, and I saw Carlisle's shoes and the brown pants he'd been wearing. As if it were a scene from a horror movie, I hid behind Nunzio.

"Fuck . . . they got him good."

My hands fisted his jacket, willing the sight to leave my mind.

"What do we do now?" he whispered over his shoulder.

"I don't know." I shook my head, still hiding.

"Incoming." He stiffened, and we stood back for another stretcher and team to come through. I couldn't see anything. Whoever it was is small enough not to have feet hanging. "I bet that's . . ."

"Anthony," I whispered.

"No, not him." Nunzio shook his head.

"No." I walked around him, looking every which way. "Anthony. Where is he?"

Nunzio shrugged.

"Crap." With my heart in my throat, I trudged through the emergency room, looking for the little boy.

"I see him." Nunzio pointed.

Amidst the hospital personnel running around, I saw Anthony sitting with a police officer. Anthony was crying, and the cop kept talking. As fast as I could, I walked around people and into people, trying to get to the small boy—my nephew.

"Anthony." I was out of breath when I crouched down to him.

"Aunt Bewwa," he cried, jumping at me.

"Shhh." I rubbed his back and held him so tight.

"Excuse me." The police officer stood up with his hand out.

"I'm his aunt, and if you want a statement . . . you can wait for his grandfather or my husband—they're lawyers." I turned my back to the cop and sat in Anthony's old seat. Then I watched as the policeman walked several paces away. "What happened?" I pulled back to hold Anthony's face and dry his tears.

"We-we were leaving, and then I don't know. Daddy jumped on me and Mommy. I-I hurt my knee." His face crumbled again as he looked down to where his jeans were ripped. His knee was scraped and bruised and a little blood oozed.

"Oh . . ." I rubbed his cheek. When I looked down to the rest of him, I saw blood. "Is your belly hurt?" I lifted his shirt, and he shook his head no.

"Mommy was hurted . . . she, she told me to be a good boy, but I wasn't. Daddy was hungry. I wanted to go home," he cried. "My games . . . where's Mommy?" He looked around.

"Oh, baby." I hugged him again, not sure what else to do.

"Hey." I felt a hand rest on my shoulder and heard Edward.

I turned with Anthony in my arms. "I still don't know what's going on."

Edward didn't reply. Instead, he pulled Anthony and me into his arms.

And that's when I knew shit was really fucked. Planting my lips in his soft hair, I cried for Anthony, for Edward, and for all of us.

When Edward let go, I sat down again while Anthony became still. I continued to hear his soft sniffles, but he was content in my arms for the time being. "What's going on?"

Edward's eyes never left Anthony. "My father's taking the boys and Kylie up to Platts."

"What?" I shouted, standing again.

"Shhh." Edward gestured to the chair. "Lizzie's nanny and Lizzie are meeting them—Nanny's going too. It'll be a tight fit, but—"

"But Edward . . .um," I didn't know what else to say.

"Dad is already pulling them out of school. You and Nunz should go meet him with Anthony—he's going, too."

"Edward." I shook my head.

"As head of this family, I made the choice that would work best. You'll get to say goodbye to the kids—"

My heart was breaking. "But . . . won't I be going with them?" I chuckled nervously.

Edward looked down, clamping his hand tightly around my own. "I need you," he whispered. "It's selfish, and I probably won't be around much, but—I need . . ." He groaned, bending low to bury his head in my lap.

While I held Anthony, I reached to weave my fingers into my husband's hair—soothing him, trying to calm him, but I mostly thought about being away from my children.

I didn't like—no, I hated the idea.

Once upon a time, I would have fought with Edward if he sent me away—wanting us to be a team. However, that was before we had children.

"What happened?" I cried, holding in a sob as I stared up at the ceiling.

Edward hummed, sitting erect, and I was able to see the tears he was holding back. "Carlisle was shot in his back four times, but the damage is to his abdomen—whatever-the-fuck. They got to him so quick—one of the docs said he's ninety percent sure he'll pull through after surgery . . . you hear that, Ant?" He pinched his cheek. "Daddy will be fine." Edward, who's never been religious, made the Sign of the Cross.

I shook my head, wishing he didn't make such a promise.

"Mommy," Anthony cried.

Edward sighed, sitting back, but looked to me head-on. He continued to point to his neck, where I'm guessing Candace was shot. Then he shook his head. "He knows Grandpa." Edward pointed to Anthony. "He'll be fine."

There were so many questions—things I ached to say, yet couldn't with the toddler in my arms.

If you haven't, please read the note above! IMPORTANT!

Thank you for reading.

Please leave me your thoughts.