I'm not Stephenie Meyer. This story is written for entertainment, not profit...don't sue me. Pretty please?

Wow.

The outpouring of love (and frustration at the cliffhanger) for the last chapter was incredible. It boggles my mind when I think about it. I want to dedicate this chapter to each and every one who takes the time to read and review my humble little story. It's nearly at an end, but I couldn't have continued writing it without the morale-boosting words I've received from hundreds of you out there. So, again, THANK YOU!

Ps, has anyone read the lemon-filled one-shot for Victim that was included in the Fandoms Fight the Floods compilation? If you have, send me a quick message to let me know what you thought of it. :)

As always, thanks to Meghan for beta'ing and letting me talk out scenarios. In this case, she helped me piece together the entire thing when I thought it was too short. Love you, hetero-lifemate!

Ok, I'll step down from my soapbox and get on with it...

Enjoy!


Previously:
He shook his head and glanced at Emmett and Edward. "Oh that's where you're mistaken, Officer Cullen...Someone definitely dies tonight..."


"And I've decided who it'll be first," James sneered, shaking me for effect.

I knew it.

It was something I'd known from the moment I saw him. It was me he'd come for and he'd make sure I'd die first in order to torture Edward before he turned the gun on him too. I heard the gun cock in James' suddenly unsteady hands, clicking twice as it went.

"This is finally it," James said wickedly. "All the months of preparation I've gone through, all my suffering and living in squalor just to follow you to this godforsaken town...all for this one moment. The moment you finally get what's been coming to you since that traitorous doctor told me you slipped into a coma." He breathed in deeply as if he were sniffing my hair again. "God, this feels good. You know what they say about revenge? About it being a dish best served cold? This dish has been waiting for me to enjoy it for some time now."

"Don't do this." It was Edward's strained voice that pleaded for my life.

"You know, Eddie, you're really starting to irritate me with your pussy-whipped attitude. She's not worth it. No woman is. They're only good for fucking. And this one," he shook me again to emphasise his point, "wasn't even good at that."

I listened to his words and frowned. He had always been left dissatisfied with the way things went in the bedroom, but then again, so had I. His decision to broach this subject at all, especially with my death looming over me, only demonstrated how deranged he really was.

"What's wrong, Marie? Don't enjoy the topic of conversation?" James snickered. He chuckled into my ear before his voice grew very quiet and he whispered, "I suggest you savour these last few moments of your life. They'll be over before you know it."

"Look, we can work something out, James," Emmett suggested. "You don't have to kill anyone. The offer still stands, man. You can walk out of here, you leave Bella alone and-"

"Her name is MARIE," he suddenly barked. "She was born Marie, and in a few moments," James paused steadily, turning to look at me in the eye as he continued, "she'll die Marie."

A sob ripped through my throat at the thought of James getting his wish. All it would take was a tiny slip of his finger on the trigger of the handgun he was holding against my temple and it would all be over. Everything I had worked so hard for - my independence, my self-confidence, my sense of normalcy - would be up in smoke, and I'd be lying lifeless on the floor.

He chuckled darkly and said, "Say goodbye, Marie..." I felt the grip on the gun get tighter as it dug into my temple. He was done talking, I knew. The way he had said those final words chilled me to the bone and told me there would be none following those.

This was it for me.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Emmett and Edward standing stock still, watching us with wide eyes. Edward's devastated eyes were beginning to tear up, which broke my heart to see. I had never seen him cry before; he had always been so put together, so strong. He was the one I leaned on when the memories of my past life overwhelmed me and threatened to take over my life. When I couldn't be strong for myself, he was strong for me.

The scene unfolding before me was something I had never wished to witness in my lifetime. Edward's tears killed me more than any bullet ever would because they showed me how desperate the situation had become; I wasn't getting out of this alive. And James would go down fighting against both Emmett and Edward, causing at least two more casualties to somehow satisfy James' fanatical desire for control over my life. It all seemed so pointless, for things to be ending this way, especially when there were so many things I still needed to tell Edward that began to go through my mind as those last few seconds before James pulled the trigger ticked by. I wanted to thank him for helping me get my life back, even for a little while. I wanted to tell him how complete my life was since he'd told me that he loved me. I had never loved anyone or anything as much as I loved him. I wanted him to tell Esme and Carlisle how grateful I was for their help in making me safe, even though their efforts were ultimately wasted since James had found me anyway. Above all else, I wanted him to tell everyone—my parents, his parents, Alice, Jasper, Emmett, and Rosalie—that I loved them.

Before, I always thought that when people said that their lives flashed before their eyes that it was nonsense. But as I waited for James to pull the trigger, and I felt the cold muzzle of the gun digging into my head, I saw all the important people in my life and all the events I had experienced that made me the person I was, and everything that had led us to that exact moment. All the jumbled and incoherent thoughts in my head became very clear and serene, despite the chaos around me. Things had been so simple: Edward loved me, I loved him, and we were happy and about to get married. But now, James was about to kill me, and Nathaniel and the world as I knew it was about to come to an end. Tears had begun flowing uninhibited down my cheeks, not for me but for my son who would never be born, and for the devastation that Edward would face in the coming months after our deaths.

My final thoughts, however, were interrupted when I saw Edward make a very rash decision by suddenly throwing himself forward at both James and I, in the process causing James to release me as we all fell to the floor. They began desperately wrestling for the gun, grunting and cursing as their struggle continued as I struggled to crawl away from them.

"You fucking bastard! I'm going to enjoy seeing the look on her face as you breathe your last breath!" James yelled as he punched Edward hard in the jaw. "It'll be my pleasure to kill you!" Edward shook his head briefly before regaining his focus and pulling the gun a few inches closer to himself. I could see that he was trying to pry James' fingers off of the gun, but with no use. The two men continued to roll on the floor, pulling at each other's clothes savagely. Edward had now gotten beneath James. It was a tug of war neither of them was winning. The gun remained equidistant in their hands between their bodies, neither man gaining the upper hand.

Emmett rushed to my side and pulled me to him with one hand as he pointed his own gun at my husband and my fiancé. "Fuck," Emmett swore quietly, almost to himself. "Can't get a clear shot." I struggled in Emmett's arms trying to free myself to assist Edward not thinking about my own condition before Emmett turned to me with a most serious look and stated the obvious: "Bella, we'll only make the struggle worse and then anyone could still get shot. Please, just stay with me while I wait for a clear shot, alright?" I nodded my head in agreement and scolded myself internally. I had just gotten out of one hairy situation and was ready to get myself into another. I needed to think of Nathaniel now, not just myself and Edward.

Meanwhile, James and Edward continued their screaming match on the floor. "You won't get that far! Not if I have anything to say about it!" Edward kneed James in the stomach then and was able to get his elbow up and catch James in the jaw. It looked as though Edward would succeed in wrestling the gun away from James then, but unfortunately, James grimaced and coughed but was otherwise unaffected by Edward's hits.

"You'll have to do better than that, Eddie," James spat as he attempted to pull the gun back toward him. They were rolling back and forth, too quickly for Emmett to get a shot off in our favour. They were still exchanging blows and rolling around when Edward somehow found himself on top of James. They were now chest-to-chest, the gun disappearing between them.

Every minute that passed made my blood pressure soar; Nathaniel must have understood my agitation because he began kicking, too. My whole body began shaking again with the fear and the adrenaline rushing through my system at watching the two of them struggle, throwing punches and grunting in anger.

That gun they were fighting over could have made this situation end in a variety of different ways. Because of my dad's position on the Peel Regional Police force in Toronto, he had always taught me to handle guns with care because once the safety was off, the trigger could be sensitive enough that it would require only a small nudge to fire. Dad had even taken me shooting once, though I hadn't been able to handle the recoil and hated the whole experience. This limited but relevant knowledge of guns made me an explosive bundle of nerves, set to go off the instant the gun did.

Only one outcome was optimal for us: a bullet through James' evil heart. However, only time would tell how this would really end.

After another minute of James and Edward's battle, I heard the sound that nearly stopped my heart: the loud bang of a gunshot followed by Emmett's scream of 'No!'
Throwing caution to the wind, I pushed past Emmett to see Edward lying on top of James, unmoving. I stared at them, my eyes becoming blurry with tears. My hand flew to my stomach and my breathing grew shallow and fast.

I saw James try feebly to push Edward off of him, but he couldn't.

"No, no, no, no, no," I chanted as I inched closer to the two men with Emmett right beside me, trying to slow me down.

It couldn't end like this. It simply couldn't.

How would I live without Edward? He needed to be there with me as Nathaniel entered the world. He had to be there to raise our son together. He needed to meet me at the altar in the near future, and promise himself to me and accept my promise, too. Most of all, he needed to be there to love me.

I nearly drove myself insane as I stared at the men lying on my floor. Each step toward them felt like an eternity as I drew closer and closer, hoping and praying that the right man was shot.

Finally, I saw Edward moving off James of his own strength and topple over to his side, still holding the gun in his hand. He let the gun drop to the ground beside him. A pool of blood had formed on the centre of his shirt, which terrified me to see, not to mention made a vile nauseous feeling rise up in me.

"Edward!" I cried as I moved away from Emmett and crouched at Edward's side as best I could with my large belly between us, putting my arm around his shoulder. "Baby, please tell me you're alright! Please!" I sobbed hysterically, clutching the front of his shirt and noticing that there was no bullet hole there.

"Shhh sweetie, I'm fine, I'm fine," he soothed in a rough voice, running his hands over my cheeks. I heard Emmett heave a sigh of relief beside me as we helped Edward get up. "I'm ok, baby."

Tears fell from my eyes as I looked Edward over. There was a nasty looking bruise forming on the side of his face and his lip was split open from James' punch. A slow stream of blood flowed from it down his chin. His hair looked like he'd just rolled out of bed, going this way and that. His scrubs had specks of dirt and blood on them, and were torn at the neckline. His eyes were tired and weary, but relieved, too. He wrapped his arms around me and held me tightly to him. The moment we touched, my erratic breathing and shaking body evened out. The calming effect of his warm hands on me was instantaneous. All my tension and worry melted away and it was as if I had never been in distress. My body forgot every anxious breath taken, every shake, every goose bumps caused by James' presence. The effect must have been the same for Edward because as he held me, I felt him let out a long breath. It sounded as if he was trying to repress a sob, though he never gave any other indication of crying. He rubbed my back soothingly with one hand as he held me, though his touch eased my agitated form enough. With his free hand, he rubbed my belly slowly; he must have felt Nathaniel kicking up a storm and knew that his touch would have the same effect on him that it had on me.

"God, Bella, I was so worried, don't know what I'd do without either of you..." Edward's words were so quiet as he continued to touch me soothingly.

"Is he...?" Emmett asked, gun still in his hand lowered to his side. Edward turned away from me for a moment to answer his brother, his arms releasing me momentarily.

"If he isn't dead, he will be soon. I shot him in the stomach. He's bleeding out quickly," he said in a no-nonsense way. There was no emotion attached to his words. It was as if he'd crushed a cockroach under his shoe, not killed a man. I couldn't blame him, though; if in the same situation, I would have spoken in the same emotionless tone. James was a cockroach, always out of sight, but ready to pop out of the woodwork when it was the most opportune for him. I knew that I had frozen when I had the knife pointed at James, but if I had had another chance, I wouldn't have hesitated to shoot him dead. This game of cat and mouse had to end somehow. If it ended with his death, I knew that I would be fine with that. He had threatened my family—my son's life, my fiancé's life—and he had to pay for that. I was just thankful that he hadn't hurt anyone during the struggle for the gun. It could have ended horribly.

Emmett nodded and was about to crouch down towards James to make sure when James' head snapped up, eyes wide and wild searching the room for his intended target.

Within about four seconds, before Edward or Emmett had a chance to react, James pulled the gun off the floor and locked his wild eyes on me. He grinned menacingly as he fired a shot in my direction.

In slow motion, I watched as a blast of fire briefly escaped the muzzle of the gun and headed toward me. I saw it happening, but could do nothing to prevent the trajectory of the bullet as it sped toward me, or move my body to avoid it.

A burst of pain crippled me where I stood, but made me sway with the force of the shot. It took a moment to process what had happened—the bullet ripping through my body—but once I had, I screamed loudly as the heat from the shot ran through me. I shut my eyes tightly to fight against the pain of the gunshot, trying to block out the intense searing but failing miserably. It was a hot fire burning me, scalding me from an undecipherable place on my body.

"Bella!" Edward shouted over the sound of another gunshot, no doubt Emmett's directed at James. I heard the distinct clatter of the gun in James' hand as it crashed to the ground once more, skittering across the floor and out of his reach. I opened my eyes in time to see Edward grabbing me before my body slammed against the wall. He lowered me to the ground in a sitting position carefully, ever mindful of my broken wrist. My eyes were beginning to grow heavy, my body deciding it was better to pass out then experience the intense pain radiating through me. I fought to keep my eyes open as I the world swirled around me, and a new throbbing pain I was feeling in my left shoulder told me the general vicinity of the shot. I knew that this easily trumped any pain James had ever caused me—even when he pushed me down the stairs, I hadn't felt this much agony because I was knocked unconscious almost immediately. I heard a strangled cry come out of me without my consent as Edward held me in his arms and looked me over. "It's your shoulder, thank God, it's just your shoulder," Edward said quietly, chanting it over and over like a prayer as he inspected the entry point of the gunshot. He was probably saying it to reassure himself as much as me. "Through and through." I stared intently at him, trying to use the always breathtaking sight of my love to help drown out and ignore the burning pain in my shoulder and arm.

"You'll always be mine, Marie," I heard James croak out hoarsely, bringing my focus away from Edward and back to him. It was obvious he was in pain. Even through my own pain, I somehow managed to look him right in the eye from where I had been lowered. His crazed eyes were fighting to stay open. Even though he was clearly at death's door, he wore a smirk that made me believe this was the ending he had chosen for this whole thing. It confirmed my previous thoughts; he really had been on a kamikaze mission. He might not have had the pleasure of seeing my demise, but he knew that this night would forever be etched into my memory, and therefore his memory would always be with me in a way.

Although he sought to dishearten me and break me with his words, James did not realize how much I had changed in the past few months; because despite being in great pain, seeing James suffer as he lay on the floor in immense pain gave me strength. I took a quick moment to evaluate his condition.

His normally medium-toned skin was now deathly pale. His cheeks looked clammy to the touch, beads of sweat dampening the skin and glistening down his forehead. He coughed once, causing a mixture of spittle and blood to drip out of the side of his mouth, discolouring his blindingly-white teeth.

He was definitely on his way out.

After everything he had ever done to control me, cause me such excruciating anguish, beat down my spirit and destroy my sense of self-preservation, his death was a godsend. Though I had never dreamed of being the sort to rejoice in someone else's suffering, I couldn't help the building sense of consolation and relief I felt at watching the seconds of James' life counting down, one by one. I wasn't sorry he was near death, either. Not by a long shot. In fact, what I felt was the exact opposite; his death couldn't come soon enough for me. I would dance on his grave if given the chance.

Hey, I'm a teacher, not a saint.

I was just sorry that I hadn't been the one who had sent him toward his death. I had frozen like a coward in the kitchen when we had come face to face, and the knife tip was against his stomach. I should have done him some damage then, should have stabbed him, channelling all my hatred and anger toward him in one (or five) swift stabs to the gut.

I should have caused him just a fraction of the pain he had caused my whole life in that moment.

But I froze, and I would never get that moment back. Life was full of regrets, but I wasn't the reason he was dying...maybe indirectly I was, but Edward and Emmett had done what I could not—wound him mortally—and that kinda pissed me off.

Internally, I was furious with myself. As we lay on the floor across from each other, I realized that James had caused the weak version of myself to resurface tonight simply by showing up in Forks and confronting me in my own home. With his appearance here, he had tipped my life upside down and pulled me inside out. A few minutes ago, I had thought that Nathaniel and I were going to die, and that Edward and Emmett would be forced to watch as the life poured out of me. I had no idea whether the shot to my shoulder was life-threatening or not, but I knew I had a better chance of getting out of this situation alive than James did.

As these thoughts were passing through my head, James was lying flat on his back, his head turned to face me so far that his cheek pressed against the floor. His hand rested weakly upon his stomach, covering the spot where Edward had shot him. Higher up, dead centre on his chest, there was another wound that was adding more blood to his t-shirt. There was so much blood that it was no longer white. A thick crimson circle oozed thickly under him on my floor, surrounding him on either side of his body. I cleared my throat roughly and grimaced.

"My name is Bella. And I've never been yours, James. Not in the two years of hell you put me through, and especially not now." I spoke steadily, with purpose and determination, though my whole body was painfully reminding me of my injuries with every word I spoke. I took a deep breath before finishing my thought.

His eyes would never get to look upon me again. His rough hands would never hit me again. His sinister words would never degrade me again. He would never make me feel vulnerable, small, useless, or worthless again. His influence would never take over my actions again. With his death, I would truly be free of him and the tyranny that ruled our house in Boston. Most of all, I would never feel the sort of fear he easily inspired within me again.

Never again.

That thought gave me enough strength to raise my head just enough to throw him a triumphant smile as my eyes bore into his. "Enjoy hell, you fucking bastard," I said lowly. His smirk faltered at my words, and his evil eyes gazed at me for the last time as I watched the fire die out of them and go glassy.

He was gone.

Countless moments passed. It could have been a minute, or an hour. In those moments, I stared listlessly at the body frozen in place before us. I memorized the shape his mouth formed when death had finally taken him, the way his eyelids had drooped half-way over his lifeless eyes. I knew the images would be burned in my mind forever. They would serve as a reminder of him—the only reminder I would ever need again.

Before my eyes reached the bloody holes in his chest, I was pulled out of my daze by the sight of Emmett crouching over James' lifeless body, gun still drawn.

"He's dead for sure this time," Emmett called out. He stepped towards Edward and me, and knelt before us. He returned his gun to its holster and looked us over. "I already called for an ambulance."

"Good. We need to get Bella to the hospital," Edward said to his brother in an urgent tone. "She's losing a lot of blood." Emmett disappeared from view and returned with a towel in his hand. He threw it to Edward, who proceeded to put pressure on my shoulder to slow the bleeding. He touched my left arm quickly but gently to appraise the damage James had inflicted. It was my left side that had been shot, too, so the minute his fingers released the pressure on the gunshot and grazed my wrist, I winced and whimpered. "It's definitely broken, Bella. Shit, if that animal wasn't already dead, I'd kill him all over again for doing this to you."

I nodded in response, the pain too intense to form any coherent words.

Emmett turned and began pacing beside the front door.

I felt tears slide down my face in quiet complaint, finally letting the pain consume me. Every movement I made caused my injuries to sting but I hadn't really thought about it until that moment. I heard Emmett somewhere in the room, on the phone. Though I couldn't really hear everything he said, I caught the words 'intruder', 'back-up', and 'self-defence' said authoritatively. I couldn't really put the words together in any meaningful way because I was trying to work through the pain in my shoulder and wrist. Edward caught my attention again, stroking my cheek in a soothing way. His eyes darted back from Emmett to James, then back to me.

"I know it hurts, baby," he said, pain colouring his tone. "The ambulance is on its way. They're going to take good care of you and I'll be with you as much as they'll let me, I promise." He took a deep breath and whispered to me, "I swear, when I saw that gun pointed at your head, I saw my entire life flash before my eyes." I could feel the passion in his voice. "God, I love you so much, you know that?"

I could only nod and sniffle again as he kissed my forehead. The emotions coursing through me were too intense. I was having a difficult time getting words out at all. Thankfully, Edward didn't need me to put into words what I felt because I knew he was feeling the same overwhelming relief that I was.

"Edward," Emmett said, stopping his pacing and turning towards us. "Since the ambulance is around the corner, we need to get our stories straight. So this is...uh...was...the guy, huh?" he stuttered, referring to the lifeless body lying on my floor. He looked back to me and it was clear he was uncomfortable. Edward nodded at his brother as he rubbed my back, trying to make me forget my pain, but failing in his attempt.

"Yeah, he's the man Mom and Dad helped her leave last year." His words were quiet but emotional. "He deserved far worse than those gunshots for the suffering he caused her."

"Goddamn," Emmett murmured in astonishment, looking at me probably for confirmation. I simply nodded and sniffled. "That bad, huh? I'm just sorry I didn't do worse to him for ya, Bells."

I wanted to tell him that I was thankful to him for busting in on the scene when he did, but I suddenly grew very groggy, probably from the blood loss. Edward noticed immediately and tried to keep me awake.

"Stay with me! You need to stay awake, Bella. Please!"

"I..." I felt my lips moving, but it was hard to make them move correctly. I wanted to tell them both how tired I suddenly was, but the only thing that came out was mumbled nonsense. I felt Edward trying to shake me back to consciousness, but I drifted into darkness quickly, leaving him and Emmett yelling at me to wake up.

I heard the siren of an ambulance wailing in the distance before I passed out.

There were noises—shouting, tension that I couldn't identify. I felt my body being lifted off the ground, and somehow I was sure it was Edward that was holding my hand. I heard him whisper—or maybe it was a yell, I really couldn't tell in my current state—that he loved me a few times before I passed out again.


A/N:

Despite the title of this chapter, this is NOT the end...just yet...at least two more chapters and an epilogue. ;) Love you all! (even my one flamer...)