Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. No copyright infringement is intended.

Beta'd by HollettLA.

Huge thank you to Dr. Tammy

Have faith in me


Weather the Storm

Chapter Forty-nine: Craft of the Father

Needing a change, I was at the car lot ready to buy myself a Christmas gift. My boy Lloyd, having known each other since we were kids, said he'd give me a good deal on a new Charger. I was leaning toward the SRT8 in silver, and since they're so cheap, I wanted to get Bella a red one.

She's always liked that color.

My brother and Aro always ask why I stick to Fords or Dodges, or cars which seem cheap when I could afford a kickass whip. Truthfully, those are the cars I like—American, dependable and expendable. I like variety when it comes to vehicles. Why buy a Porsche or a Mercedes every five to eight years, when I could get a brand new car every couple of years?

Anything flashier and I'd just be asking for attention.

One day, I'll get that Aston Martin though.

I fear the IRS more than the F.B.I. Getting audited is a bitch, or so I've heard, as—at the moment—I have a duffle full of cash, and I don't have any proof of where it came from. Lloyd is cool. He knows who I am and what I do, and he's never asked questions before.

"Daddy, get this one. I like it." Damion ran his hand along a red Challenger, which didn't look too bad. I actually pursed my lips as I stared at it.

"Can we just go?" Sonny bounced around with Kylie. My daughter's arms were spread out straight. The poor girl can't move when she's in her snowsuit, but she looks adorable, and no doubt she's warm. "It's cold."

"Go inside Lou's car," I said, taking a curious glance around. It was bitterly cold this afternoon. We're expecting snow later on—four to six inches—and my children are hoping for a snow day tomorrow.

The car lot is so close to the house, I probably could have left them home while Lou chilled out with them. But I figured we'd go have dinner at Lauren's when we were through here. The kids can hang with Aro's kids, while we discuss a few things. When Bella asked me to take the afternoon off, I didn't bitch. Between holidays, the Christmas pageant coming up—the one at the school she's doing mad shit for—and then her being stuck with the kids daily, I understood.

As I stared at the other Dodge, a fleeting thought crossed my mind. Maybe we should stay local? I could tell Aro to come to my crib and we'll order a few pies. After Thanksgiving, Bella told me to stay away from Lauren—like I'd fucking do anything. The idea was so ridiculous, I laughed at my wife.

"The Challenger is nicer . . . classier." Lou took a drag from his cigarette. "Reminds me of the cars from the 70s."

"True." I bit my lip, antsy and unsure. "What do you think?" I asked Sonny.

He stared at the Challenger. "I like that one more."

Nodding, I rubbed my hands together for warmth. "Lou, run the heat—let the kids sit."

My buddy sprinted to his car.

"Guys." I called my children over. "You want pizza or to go out to Sheepshead—go to Lauren's for dinner?"

"Um, pizza?" Sonny said sadly, never having made up with Katie.

"I want lobster!" Dame raised his hand. "Please?"

I chuckled, knowing I could go for a steak and maybe some shrimp, too.

"Um, can we stop at a store first?" Sonny asked.

I rolled my eyes at Romeo. Maybe we don't spend as much time together as I'd like, but I knew him like I knew myself. "Let me guess, like a florist?"

"I'd pay for them." He adjusted Kylie on his hip.

"I'll pay for them . . . We'll get her some nice roses." I nodded.

My eldest grinned at me. "I hope it works."

"It might . . ." I sighed. "I won't be long—promise—and then we'll go get the flowers, and your lobster." I touched Dame's cheek.

"I like the butter the best."

"Yeah, you always make a mess of yourself." I thought my son was so fucking cute.

He rubbed his stomach. "I like Sebastian, but lobsters are so yummy."

"Who?" I asked.

"The crab or whatever from The Little Mermaid," Sonny said.

"You can still eat whatever." I didn't know what to tell him. "Don't feel bad."

"You could eat a mermaid—"

"Watch it." I warned Sonny while he snickered.

Damion grabbed my hand. "I'm not cold—can I stay with you?"

I nodded.

"I'll put Kylie in her seat and come back." Sonny walked off.

"Five minutes," I told him. There was no need for him to run back if he didn't want to.

"When's Mommy coming?" Damion asked.

"She's not," I said. "She had something to do."

I'm not sure about our eldest, or if Kylie even knows what Christmas is yet, but Damion still believes in Santa Claus. There was no way I could tell him that his mother went shopping—for their gifts nonetheless. Bella went with Carlisle, and I hoped my brother would still be alive at the end of the day.

My brother and I fight, but then we make up . . . like siblings do; however, my wife has never been a fan of his. Knowing she'd shoot him if he ever stepped out of line keeps me at ease—hopeful that some day soon they'll get along again.

Damion huffed. "Well, when is she coming back?"

I crouched low as I saw Lloyd headed our way. "When we're done here, we're gonna go eat dinner. You'll do your homework before your lobster comes," I poked his belly, "and then we'll go home . . . Mommy might even beat us there."

He sniffled, and I reached to wipe his boogers away.

"Don't cry," I said, standing tall. "There's nothing to be sad about."

"I'm not crying." He swallowed and took my hand, just as Lloyd approached.

"Mr. Cullen," he greeted.

"How you doin'?" I gave him a fist pound. "I want a red Charger and a black . . . Challenger." Sadly, I still wasn't sure, but the Challenger is very pretty. "The Charger . . . I want it at my house on Christmas Eve. The Challenger, have it ready whenever you can—the sooner the better. I want the works—badass sound systems in both, heated leather seats . . ."

"You know I'll take care of you."

"Just like I'll take care of you." I smirked, handing him the duffle bag. "Should be enough."

He beamed at me. "The paperwork—"

"I'll send my brother by some time this week."

"Works for me," he said, backing up and turning his head to and fro.

His behavior caught me off-guard, but I shrugged it away to clap and then I grasped Dame's hand. "We ready?"

"That's it?" He scrunched his nose at me. "You're done?"

"Yeah," I laughed, holding his hand in both of mine as we took off toward Lou's SUV.

Suddenly, time slowed as I heard the screeching of tires. My head whipped back to the office, and when I saw Lloyd duck low, I quickly turned back to the street. My body reacted before my brain had time to process.

Tackling Damion to the ground, I heard the rapid gunfire, my heart in my throat.

"Daddy—"

Those fast pops were all I heard while I crawled, holding Damion below me—trying to get to Lou's car. It was getting shot at, too, although I was their target. But I couldn't see Sonny or Kylie.

Lou was outside his whip, shooting back at the passing car, and then it was gone . . .

The streets were quiet, except for my own screaming.

"Sonny! Kylie!" I took off, literally holding Damion by the collar of his shirt—dragging him with me.

My daughter was crying—I remembered hearing that. "Get in." My voice was shaky. "Are you—"

"Daddy!" Damion wailed, but looking him over he was fine.

"Ky—" My breathing was labored as I tore her out of Sonny's hold. She wasn't in her car seat. "Oh . . . thank God." I hugged my daughter tightly. She was fine, too.

"Dad—" Sonny coughed, the smallest bit of blood falling from his mouth.

"No. No. No. No. No!" I chanted, tears clouding my vision as my attention was pulled in all these different directions—three, in fact: Damion, Kylie, and Sonny . . . but all I could see was my eldest son. "Dame—take your sister." I let go of Kylie to cradle my baby—my Sonny. "Drive!" I hollered, seeing Lou close the back door. "Sonny," I cried. "Don't you go nowhere—"

"I—I took—I took Kylie—"

"You did good." I rocked us, Lou taking off like a mad man. "Get us there!" I knew we were close to the neighborhood hospital, which I was grateful for. We'd get there before the ambulance could even get to us.

"I'm going . . ." Lou kept talking to me, but I looked down to Sonny.

He was still coughing, gasping for air as he clawed at his neck. "Lemme see," I whimpered, tearing his shirt open, and there was all this blood. I couldn't even see the bullet hole. "You're okay. You're okay," I sobbed. "Just keep breathing—keep your eyes open."

"Sonny!" Damion cried. Kylie was still screaming from his arms, and I . . .

"Get us to the fucking hospital!" I beat the front seat—livid, confused, scared out of my fucking mind. "Sonny, talk to me."

A gurgled sound fell from his mouth.

"Spit it out." I turned him to let him throw up a mouthful of blood. "You're okay. Just keep breathing!" I shook him, holding him so tight. "Don't you dare die on me—please, oh my God, please." I looked up for a brief second.

"We're here—" Lou stopped short, and I ran out of the car with Sonny in my arms.

"Help!" I screamed out. "Help me—my son!"

People ran. There was a team of doctors and nurses coming at me with a gurney, and I didn't want to let go of my son. "We were—"

"Sir." A nurse tried taking him out of my arms.

My son looked gray, his skin ashen as he still tried to take lung-fulls of air. "Keep breathing."

"Sir, please—"

As soon as he was out of my arms, I collapsed to my knees, only to scream out in agony—my heart feeling as though it was ripped from my chest. "Sonny!" They took him away—out of sight, wheeling him to another small room that was filled with so many people.

"Daddy . . ." Damion was at my side. I heard him, felt him, but I couldn't see him. With my face crumpled, I buried it into my hands, my shoulders shaking from the force of my sobs. "Daddy, Sonny—"

Taking a shaky breath of my own, I pulled him into me to cry into his neck. "Kylie—" Frantic, I turned to see her crying in Lou's arms.

"Excuse me, sir?" A nurse asked. "I need to ask you a few questions . . ."

Swallowing loudly, my heart still beating rapidly, I took Damion and myself over to a chair. "We were picking out a car," I whispered.

"Where's my brother?" Damion cried. "Daddy, where's Sonny?" His little face was scrunched—one of the saddest things I had ever seen.

"My wife," I said. "Can—can someone—Lou, call my brother." I wiped my eyes.

"Sir, can you take a deep breath?" The nurse touched my arm.

"Santino—His name is Santino Cullen. He's—he's B positive, twelve years old. I—is he going to be okay?" My eyes pleaded with her to answer me.

She sat next to me. "The doctors are doing everything they can—"

"That's not good enough—I asked you a question." I was going insane inside. "I wanna see my son."

"Daddy—" Damion continued to cry.

I hugged him with one arm to let him know I was here. "Tell me."

She shook her head, looking back to that small room. She was about to speak, but then they started to wheel Sonny out of it.

"Where are they going?" I shot up to follow them.

"Sir—"

"Sonny, we're here!" I shouted, running—trying to catch up, but then a doctor turned to face me, just as the rest of his team boarded the elevator.

"Sir—"

"Cullen—Ed-Edward Cullen," I said.

He nodded. "Mr. Cullen, we're taking your son up to surgery. It looks as though the bullet nicked the axillary artery . . . and due to its horrible location . . . we don't have any way to apply pressure—there's no way we can stop the bleeding without operating. We've already given him donor blood . . . we sedated him and did an emergency intubation that will help him breathe—"

"Oh God." My knees were weak, and I almost fell again. "He coughed up blood—" I choked on a sob.

"His lung hasn't collapsed, but it's contused—bruised, which is why he was coughing up blood." I felt his hand on my shoulder. "You got him here quickly. Another five minutes and . . ."

"What happened?" I shook my head.

"The bullet went through his arm and is still lodged in his rib—we'll know more and can give you definite answers once we get in there. We need to asses him fast—take x-rays of his ribs and lungs so we know what we're truly dealing with . . . We're going to do everything we can, but our main concern is stopping that bleeding." And that was it.

Another elevator dinged, and he was gone, and he might as well have just spoken Chinese to me.

Nothing made sense.

"Is he going to be okay?" I shouted as loud as I could, hoping anyone—God—would answer me.

"Daddy!" Damion wailed again.

"Shhh. Sonny's going to be okay," I lied, tears still marring my vision while all this activity happened around me. "We have to calm down." I think I told myself, hitting the elevator button. "Where's the operating room?"

"Third floor," someone answered me.

I hit that button ten fucking times. "Come on—"

"Skip." Lou approached with Kylie. "C and the missus are on their way."

"Bella," I cried into Damion's neck again, thinking about how upset, how hurt, sad, and angry she was going to be. "Did you tell—"

"I told C," he whispered. "He said he'd . . . With the ice on the ground, I didn't want them rushing here." He shrugged. "I—I didn't know what to say—said there was an accident."

The elevator arrived and we hopped on. My stomach was still in knots as I tried to make sense of any-fucking-thing, but I knew I had to think fast. "I want everybody here . . . all the capos, and I want someone to go pick up Lloyd—do somethin' with him—get answers. He knew." My voice broke.

"Got it." He lifted his cell to his ear, as Dame and I walked off the elevator.

Hospital workers passed by in scrubs, going this way and that way, and I had no idea where to go.

"Hey!" I stopped someone. "Santino—my son. He was—he was just brought in."

"Um—" The young guy tried to walk around me. "I'll see what's . . ." He shrugged, walking away.

I went into my pocket for cash. "Just please—take this—tell me."

He put his hands up. "Sir, we have ten operating rooms. I'm just an aide. I'll get someone." He walked around me.

"Daddy." Damion still had yet to calm down.

"Look at me." I took a seat in an empty chair by the elevators. "Sonny's fine."

He shook his head, his face crumbling again.

"He's going to be just fine," I said, hoping my wife got here soon. "Mommy's gonna be here soon."

"Mommy!" he cried louder.

"Shhh." I rocked us again, but then Alex stopped short in front of us.

"Skip—"

"What's going on?" I wiped my eyes.

She had tears in her eyes, too. "They just brought him in. When I saw him—"

"What happened?" I asked. "Where—"

"The-the bul-bullet entered his arm—went through, and got stuck in his rib. It's only one entry wound from what they can tell." She sniffled. "Just . . ." She put her hands out, waving them down, an indication I relax. "Where's Mrs. Cullen?"

"On her way," I whispered, feeling dead inside, wanting to die—wanting to take the pain away from Sonny, wishing it was me . . . I couldn't focus or think of one way to feel or act.

"He lost a lot of blood, but I'm sure he'll be fine."

My head whipped to her. "Huh?"

She shook her head, eyes on the floor. "We worked on this guy last week . . . He was shot up something horrible, but he's still alive. We have a great cardio-thoracic team . . . and Sonny's injuries . . . I'm sure he'll pull through, but . . . I can't promise you anything," she cried. "I'm so sorry this happened."

I gulped, staring up at the ceiling.

"Alex," Damion said, and I handed him over to her. I didn't even look, but I was no use to any of my children at the moment. All I could do was cradle my head and cry—wait for answers, wait for anything.

"I'm going to go check on Sonny, okay?" Alex asked Damion.

"No!" He clung to her. "I want my mommy . . ."

"Dame—" I grabbed him, so she could go get me some answers. Bella's friend ran to the back as the elevator beeped. The doors opened and my wife flew out, my brother on her heels.

"What happened?" She stared at me. "Why are you . . . covered in blood?" she asked, her eyes going from me, to Damion, and then to Kylie. "Sonny!" She screeched, and I felt the anguish in her cry—in my bones—and it tore me apart even more. "What happened?"

"Bella, baby—" I reached for her hand just as Carlisle took Damion out of my arms. "Come here."

"No." Bella hit me, backing away. "Where's my son . . . Where's Sonny? Tell me—"

"Bella—"

"No!" she hollered, balling her hands into fists. "Where is he?"

Words failed me as I stared at her, and I was helpless—useless.

"Bella, there—there was a drive-by—" Carlisle said.

"No." She backed into the wall, turning to claw at it. "No!"

"Mommy," Damion called.

"He's in surgery." I rasped, pulling her to me. "They say—"

She fought her way out of my arms. "It's your fault." She pointed her finger at me. "Sonny!" She held her chest, bending low and screaming. She just kept yelling, letting it all out—what I wanted to do, but couldn't manage to. It was one of those moments where I should be crying, going to literal pieces, but outside . . .

"Bella—"

My wife had hate in her eyes when she faced me, collecting herself just for a second. "Stay the fuck away from me." She stomped down the hall, and I was stuck again.

All I could do was watch her go. She wouldn't settle down and talk to me. All she did was pace. And when Alex came back with a status report, Bella fell to her knees as my heart leaped into my throat again.

"What—" I couldn't even speak; Carlisle went over to see what was wrong. All I could do was stare as my wife cried on the floor. "Bella—"

"Ed." Carlisle hit my shoulder. "They're giving him more blood, but they stopped the bleeding. They're still in there, but it's looking good." He wiped his eyes.

"Thank God," I cried, my body able to move. I went to my wife, getting down onto my knees to gather her into my arms.

"Don't touch me—"

"Bebella—"

"Get the fuck away from me," she sobbed. "Just please—" She broke down in tears, and I didn't care.

I hugged her tight as we both fell apart.

Seconds turned into minutes, and then two hours had slowly passed us by. In an embrace, Bella and I waited for our fate—the news . . . good, bad, or fucking horrible, we waited with bated breath—crying, shouting, sobbing, thinking, feeling nauseated.

And Bella wouldn't talk to me.

I think she hugged me tight just so we wouldn't fight, or she did it for me, but my wife wouldn't look at me either.

The waiting room was quickly filled with our family and my associates, and Bella's friend kept running back and forth. She gave us reports every few minutes or so. They never had to crack his chest, but there was supposedly artery patchwork? Which is time consuming? I don't know. A vascular surgeon was called in, and he hadn't come out yet. But the trauma doctor who took Sonny in the first place, came out to say that it looked good.

And I think we all breathed a sigh of relief.

Nevertheless, I was still scared beyond belief. Anything could happen. If I've learned anything during my time here on earth, is that anything can and possibly might happen, and I wouldn't be able to breathe until Sonny was awake and talking to us.

"He's in the recovery room." A doctor smiled. "We're not out of the woods yet. We have to see how well he'll breathe on his own—"

Bella held her neck. "He's—"

The doctor nodded. "He's doing well—breathing on his own as of right now. There's nothing we can do for the contused lung besides wait it out—wait for it to heal, or provide assistance if he has respiratory difficulties. The anesthesiologist extubated him and . . . he's breathing just fine." He smiled wider.

I made a fist, wanting to pump the air. "He's going to be okay."

"What's this 'if' you said? Not out of the woods?" Bella looked worried and confused.

"Complications can arise." He nodded. "But it looks good. His vitals were a little low with the blood loss; however, he was pretty stable. We had no surprises and he pulled through." He patted Bella's shoulder. "Children are very resilient, and I'm positive that he'll make a full recovery."

"You have to cover your bases so we don't sue you," I said, nodding. "He's going to be fine, but you can't give us a definite answer." I kept rubbing Bella's back. "Off the record, he'll be all right?"

He sighed, raising his brows. "As of right now, he's doing well. He's stable, but we'll be watching closely for the next forty-eight hours. Hope for the best."

"Oh." I furrowed my brow. "So, you . . ."

Bella squeezed my arm tightly. "When—when can I see him?" she whispered.

"A nurse will come out to get you once he's situated," he said.

"You hear that?" I smiled through my tears.

My wife shrugged me off and left me, going to tear Kylie out of Carlisle's hold and then hug Dame to her side.

"Bella—"

"Mr. Cullen," someone said.

It was a male's voice I vaguely recognized, and I turned to Agent Hilsa. "I have nothing to say to you—"

"Someone takes a shot at your kids, and you don't have anything to say to me?" He raised a brow.

"This isn't the time," Carlisle spoke for me.

"I didn't see anything," I whispered.

Agent Hilsa stared at Bella and Damion. "Can we speak to—"

"No." Carlisle shook his head. "If you want a statement, I'll have my brother write one up, but now is not the time."

Agent Hilsa and his partner put their hands up, but it didn't look like they were going anywhere soon. It's a taboo concept, the both of them in a room full of my men, but they had a job to do just like we did, and I wasn't going to give up the fucks who did this—give them any clue.

Why? So they could possibly rot in a cell? Hell-fucking-no. Half the time, authorities fuck up the chain of custody and those bastards walk the streets in days. People like that get off scot-free, but a businessman like myself . . .

The F.B.I. haunts me like they're fucking ghouls.

I was going to find out who orchestrated this and tear them to fucking pieces. There was no way I'd let them take that away from me.

No fucking way.

"Anton picked up Lloyd," Aro whispered. "He was on his way to Newark Airport . . . with a bag full of cash."

I nodded, the both of us looking over to Anton.

"He dropped him off with Liam and Jim."

"Right." I cleared my throat.

"I told Lau to take herself and the kids out to her mom's—in Cali." He looked away from me. "I won't let you down this time—I'll be here."

"Thanks," I whispered.

"They're not—not leaving, getting a flight until later on. Maybe she can take Kylie or Dame, or even both?" he asked. "She bitched about leaving in general, but with the news . . . she was shook—had no complaints about getting out of town."

"Nah, Dame and Ky have to stay together . . . I want the old guy to leave, too, and C's kids . . ." I spoke of my father. "They'll all go together."

"About that other thing . . ."

"The meeting," I said.

It's neither here nor there at this moment, but that's what I had to discuss with Aro today—the capo sit-down happened last night. Being the boss and having all of this federal heat on me, I couldn't attend—go someplace where a large group of known "Mafiosi" were going to be. They were to speak about qualms, anything they may be unhappy about.

"Everyone is fine . . . no one gives a fuck—were all there for the free dinner." He snorted. "Long story short, M acted alone when he went out Jerz . . . and no one will say shit if he were to disappear. Most found his actions disrespectful. They say he's a loose canon, and it's because of Shorty . . . They love Ron, so nearly everyone sided with him on this beef. Some of the guys, they even said they wouldn't conduct business with Mauro . . . We either make nice and let it go, or . . . take care of it."

I shrugged. "We'll figure it out—I don't fucking know."

"No one would mourn the loss . . ."

"Yeah." I rubbed my forehead. "I get it."

He patted my back. "Don't think about shit right now—worry about Sonny. I don't even know what to tell Katie . . . her little boyfriend."

He made me grin while I fought to keep myself from crying. "Sonny was going to show up with flowers . . ."

"Stop." My buddy looked seconds away from losing it as well. "I know he'll be all right . . . You want me to talk to MC?"

"No." Glancing down to my hands and wishing Lloyd's neck was between them, I turned to my wife who had finally settled on sitting. "Bella, baby . . . I'm so—"

"Don't talk to me." She was barely speaking as it was, and that frightened me, too.

"Give her time." Aro's voice wasn't above a whisper in my ear. "Let her process."

I chuckled bitterly and at the absurdity, as all of this still didn't seem real. Besides that . . . throughout our whole marriage, I had to hear about how we were a team, and Bella wasn't acting as such right now. "I need to talk to you."

"I have nothing—nothing . . ." Bella's voice was filled with emotion, "to say to you."

I groaned, trailing my hand through my hair, needing her. "Walk with me." Maybe I was an asshole because I didn't give Bella a choice. My hand gripped her arm, and I lead her down another hallway.

"What?" she cried. "What the fuck do you want me to say?" She clawed at her hair.

My shoulders slumped. "I'm so—"

"I don't want to hear that." She paced. "I want my son—I want—"

"Me too." I reached for her hand.

"How did this happen?" She choked, gasping out a sob. "Who?"

"I don't know," I whispered, feeling beat—defeated. "Bella—"

She breathed deep through her nose. "Tell me what happened again."

"What good would that do?" I palmed her cheek. "It happened, and now . . . Bella, look at me."

"I'm going out of my mind—I need to see him. He went to the recovery room an hour ago . . . Where is this nurse? Maybe she forgot to get us? Where's Alex?" Bella was frantic, about to storm into the restricted area. "What if something happened between then and now?" And she was sobbing again.

I nodded, pulling her back. "I'll get you to him." My head whipped every which way for someone.

"As soon as—as soon as he's able to be moved," she swallowed, tears falling onto the floor as she stared down, "we'll go to Platts—somewhere—you fix this. I can't this time." She looked up to me. "You said they'd never hurt us—all the protection was a precaution."

"Another . . . organization wouldn't go for my family, but I don't know who . . ." I shook my head, not able to talk about this now. "They were aiming for me . . . It is my fault, and I'm so—"

"I don't—It's not about us anymore . . . My little boy . . ." She pointed, her lip quivering and her chin wrinkling.

With tears in my own eyes, I pulled her into me again, but she wouldn't let me. "Just leave me the fuck alone—I can't console you, because I can't console me!" she shouted up to me. "My God . . ."

In that moment, I felt selfish. With the good news we were granted, I couldn't help but wonder if we—my wife and I—were going to be okay. "I'm so sorry." My heart broke in a different way. "I promise to—"

"Don't." She walked away from me, going over to her friend who had popped her head out of the locked doors. Alex called Bella with her hand, wearing a hint of a smile that filled me with some hope.

Silently, I trailed behind, slowly following as my heart pounded away in my chest—scared of what I might see, regardless of that happy expression.

The recovery room was quiet, save hushed whispers and the beeping of machines.

And Bella crying.

My wife flew to Sonny's bedside, and I was scared to turn the corner . . . see beyond the curtain.

"Mo-Mom—" It was strangled.

"Don't talk," Alex whispered.

His voice . . . it gave me the strength to look. He was as pale as the sheets, his eyes narrowed and almost closed, but for the most part he just looked really sleepy. "Hi." My face crumbled and I cried into my hands.

"Ky . . . Dame—" He coughed.

"They're fine," Alex assured him. "Don't try to talk."

"Mom—" He wouldn't listen.

"I'm here." Bella's voice was squeaky and barely there, while Alex slid out of the bay. "I'm here, baby." She sniffled, taking his hand. "Thank God . . . Thank you—thank you," she sobbed.

"I'm—"

"Shhh." I sat by his feet. "You're okay." Relieved, relief flooded me, and I smiled at my son. "You were so brave—had us worried." My lip quivered, holding his ankle. "I'm so sorry," I spoke to Bella and Sonny. "It's my fault."

"It's o-okay." Sonny's voice was scratchy.

I chuckled just a bit. "Don't talk."

"My throat." He coughed.

"My baby." Bella placed her lips to his hand, her shoulders shaking. "You have to be all right."

"Dad . . ." It was a whisper, so low but I heard it.

"Yeah?" When I looked back to Sonny, his eyes were closed. "Hey." My stomach rolled with nausea as I poked his hand, wanting him to stay awake. "Sonny."

He opened his eyes, letting out a soft groan.

"Sleep, baby . . . you don't worry about anything. We're all here." Bella rubbed the side of his face with a fleeting glance to me as Sonny settled down. "He needs to rest."

"Bella—"

"Edward—" We spoke over each other.

"I love you," I whispered.

She nodded, trying not to cry. "I love you, too."

Ironically, those words . . . those three small words made me feel a little better.

"I can't deal . . ." she said. "I keep waiting to wake up—find this all a nightmare."

I reached to pull her hair away from her neck. "He's awake—going to be okay."

"He has to be." She kissed his hand. "My baby." She turned to me. "How . . . how did this happen?"

I shrugged, not sure what to say.

"You make it right." Her jaw was set in stone. "Whoever did this . . . you bring them to me."

"Bella—"

"I mean it." She stared at Sonny. "Whoever—whoever—" Bella broke down into tears again.

I walked around the bed and pulled her away from Sonny. "He's going to be okay."

"I love you."

"I love you, too." I kissed her neck. "I'm so sorry."

She quietly cried—her hand in Sonny's as I slowly rocked us back and forth.

/=/=/=/=/

Once Sonny was settled in the ICU, they let Damion in to see him. They weren't letting Kylie—a toddler—in, but she had already calmed down. Damion cried and held Sonny's hand. He was asleep and had woken up enough to say hello to his brother, which made Damion smile.

He wouldn't wake up, besides calling our names, for us . . . yet, Sonny knew his brother needed to hear his voice, even in the state he's currently in.

But then Sonny said something . . .

A nurse was in the room and had just given him more pain medication. So, when Bella looked to her wide-eyed, the nurse shrugged and said it was the narcotics speaking. Sonny told Damion not to cry, that it would all be okay—not necessarily himself—and that death was just a part of life, nothing serious since we all die.

Hearing your twelve-year-old say that . . . Well, it threw Bella and me through another fucking—what-the-fuck loop.

Damion had already left the room when Sonny added, "See a lot of tits . . ." Whatever that meant. In my heart, I felt even sadder—thinking that Sonny might possibly be hallucinating, think he's dead.

If it were anyone else's kid, I'd probably nod and say he was smart for thinking that way. But he's my kid, and his words shocked the shit out of me.

My poor little guy . . . Dame, was still so shaken—we all were. Bella wouldn't leave Sonny's side, telling me to take care of Kylie and Damion.

"Take him back to your place—them, I mean," I told my father.

"Of course." Dad massaged my neck.

"Take them upstate," I whispered. "All of them again."

"Edward—"

"Do it," I said. "Let me handle shit here." The Feds were still hanging around so my tone was low. With a fleeting glance to my brother, I leaned farther into Dad. "Take C's kids, too."

"With just Jackie and me—"

"When have I ever asked you for anything?" I stared him in his eyes—the man who never did dick for me. Misone actually did more for me, even if his intentions weren't always true. "My kid's in intensive care—"

"All right." He put his hands up. "It's fine . . . all of them together with just Jackie and me though . . . Will Bella join us?"

"No . . . She stays here. Take them to Disney." I finally relaxed when I saw the agents walk down the hall—out of earshot. "Take them to the one in Cali—get away from the East Coast."

"What's the plan?" My brother joined us.

"Dad's taking the kids," I said. "Yours, too."

Carlisle blew out a slow breath. "I can't believe we have to do this again."

"It's just a precaution." I shrugged, feeling exhausted. "We don't know who did what or why."

"Lou said they were black," Carlisle whispered. "So, you know who I'm thinking—"

"Not here." I snapped.

"Right." My brother backed off. "I gotta call Abby—figure out . . ." He turned back to Alex. She was standing with Ronnie, her father.

"Alexandra," my father called her over. While I waited for my turn to speak, I massaged my temples.

"Yes . . . Mr. Cullen? Can I get you anything?" She acted as though this place was a restaurant or some shit, which made me chuckle. She did that shit earlier, running around and making sure everyone was taken care of, especially Bella, which was something I was eternally grateful for.

"Don't be so pleasing." My brother kissed her hair. "Relax."

"Um." She looked down, clamming up.

My father grabbed her hands. "We're going . . . to Disney—my grandchildren, Jackie, and me—and we'd love it if you could come with us." He smiled widely.

"Wow . . ." She shook her head.

"Yes, go." My brother urged. "Please." They shared some intense stare-off, and I looked away to give them privacy.

"Okay," she whispered. "I'll—I'll take personal time until my vacation . . . Are you sure?"

Ronnie joined our small group, nodding his head as he walked. "I think you should go . . . I'll be sending your mother away also . . . Like last year when you guys went to Aunt Gladdy's house?" He raised a brow, trying to say something else with his words.

Alex frowned. "Oh . . ."

"Thank you," Ronnie shook my brother's hand, "for thinking of her." He gave Carlisle credit for my father's selfish idea.

"Are we done here?" I asked. "You're going—that's that." She could help look after all the kids, and she'd be away so my brother wouldn't worry. It was a sound plan. "Go home, pack a bag, and my father will send a car."

Alex nodded. "Right . . . I'll, um, I'll just go see Bella . . ." She trailed off, backing away from us. When she turned, she bumped right into Mauro who had just left the elevator.

"Didn't expect you to fall back into my arms," he laughed, steadying her. "You look good."

"Fucker—" Carlisle spat but I was closer.

I got between them, giving Alex a nudge down the hall. "Thanks for coming."

"Don't mention it." He put his hand out to shake mine. "How's he doing? When I heard, I came right over."

"He's fine." I left his hand there, just to be a dick to the little brat who ran to Jersey.

And because he just lied.

My kid's been here for hours, and he came as soon as he heard. My ass.

"Awesome." He rocked back on his heels. "C's gonna look out for Alex, so I don't have to? Or . . . should I take her out to PA? You need me to take anyone anywhere?" He rambled. "You tell me . . . I'll do it. We're . . . going to do something, right?"

"Keep her name out your mouth," Carlisle said. "You don't worry about her."

Mauro grinned. "That's so sweet—"

"You . . . Get over here!" Aro boomed, and Mauro went running toward him and Caius as his friend followed.

"What the fuck?" I asked my brother.

"I'm sorry. He just—"

"No, just this day," I grumbled, wanting to wake up—like Bella. "Crazy after crazy after horrible."

"Daddy?" I heard. It was faint, and I walked around a few people to get to Damion.

He sat, looking sad with his Aunt Lizzie, Kylie, and Jackie. "Hey, bud." Massaging his shoulder, I leaned forward to kiss his cheek. "Your brother's going to be fine."

He sniffled, looking down.

"Don't start again." I smiled, teasing even if I was fucked inside myself. "No crying. Sonny wouldn't want you to. He said so . . . " Crouching low, I hugged him tightly. "I know today was scary, but we have to forget about it. Okay? We have to put it behind us." Honestly, I had no idea how to console him. Just like Bella said, I was at a loss since I couldn't soothe myself—had no idea . . . just couldn't deal.

"Where's Mommy?" he asked.

"She's still sitting with Sonny." I ruffled his hair. "You wanna go see him again before you go? We—your mother and I—need to stay with Sonny . . . you're going to go with Grandpa. Okay?"

He shook his head. "No—please—" Damion was suddenly frantic, clawing at me. "Don't send us away!"

"Shhh." I rocked us. "It's for your own good. You have nothing to be scared of, and you'll be back before you know it . . . Don't you want to go to Disneyland?"

"What?" He gathered himself quickly after hearing that—bet his ears perked up.

"Disney." I wiped the tears away from his eyes. "Mom and Sonny, they'll meet you guys there. You won't even miss them, you're going to have so much fun . . . Hanna, Carli, Anthony, Kylie, and Lizzie—" Giving a fleeting glance to my baby sister, I noticed she was a crying, sniffling mess, too. I placed my hand on hers. "Alex is going . . . Both of you will have a great time."

"What about you?" Damion played with the scarf I still had on.

Looking down, I saw that I was covered in Sonny's blood to boot. The realization . . . it made me nauseous. I hummed, swallowing down some bile as I took it off. "I might. I can't promise you I will, but I'll miss you like crazy and . . . Well, someone has to watch the house and the dog, right?" Placing my coat on the chair next to him, I bent low to search his eyes. "Right? We can't leave Rocky alone."

He didn't answer me.

"Dame," I shook him from side-to-side, "I need you to be brave, buddy. Can you do that?" My eyes pleaded, hoping my eight year old understood. In my gut, in my mind, I actually worried about the future—wondering just how much I, the shit that keeps going down, was going to fuck up his life.

"Sonny would want me to, to be brave." His words surprised me. "Can I say goodbye to Sonny, too?"

"Not goodbye." I kissed his lips. "You tell him—you say, 'See you later, Sonny'."

Maybe he didn't comprehend my meaning, but he nodded his head in acceptance anyway.

"I'll come with you." Lizzie held his hand as Damion scooted off the chair.

"Let's go," Dad said, accompanying them.

I stood back and up, watching them walk down the hall.

Then my eyes scanned the waiting room.

The Feds were still out of sight, but . . .

It was at that moment I realized . . . nobody cares.

My kid's in intensive care, and it seemed as though nobody gave a fuck.

My guys were huddled together in small groups. Some were whispering, some were drinking coffee, and most wore neutral expressions if they weren't smiling at what the other said.

The only long faces were those closest to me.

Even during this dire time, I accepted it—that, not-so-startling discovery.

I'm the boss . . . yet, I'm only actually concerned about my family—Bella, the kids—the people who are the most important to me—those who are immediate.

The others could drop dead for all I cared.

Hearing the familiar sound of Aro's voice, I turned in his direction, and then he lowered his tone to his usual whisper. My friend bears the brunt for me.

Being surrounded by everyone, they all pretty much demanded his attention. If things were different, they'd be up my ass, but he's the one they go to, just like they used to hound me instead of Misone . . . and even today—this moment—they wouldn't give it a rest, especially since the Feds had taken off.

Like a bystander, I watched the scene unfold in front of me. I could barely hear what they said, but whatever it was kept them scowling—Aro was speaking to Caius, Mauro, and this kid they call Slick. His real name is Richie, and I don't know him. He's a friend of Mauro's, not mine or ours . . .

"The difference between pimpin' and being a mack is simply finesse and style, my man." Anton popped his collar, talking to his boy Paulie. They were right next to me, talking about broads or something. "The ladies love me."

"Git' the fuck outta hea," Paulie laughed at him.

Not giving a fuck about any of that bullshit, I moseyed over to Aro and Caius. Their conversation with the younger guys had become heated, and I needed a distraction.

"All right." Aro looked to Caius. "They didn't know it was one of your trucks. What do you want me to say?"

Caius groaned. "For ten years, McGuire Trucking has been paying me—protection money."

Aro laughed. "You want my Blu-ray player?"

"Oh!" Caius shouted. "That's not my point. They ripped off the truck—" He gestured to Mauro and Slick. "That was my truck—might as well have been my Blu-rays . . . They're making out like fat rats over here," he tilted his head to them, "and I get shit?"

"Hey, Skip," Aro greeted. "You still giving your Blu-ray to Sonny for Christmas?" His face fell, saying his name. "Fellas, we shouldn't be—"

I put my hand up, indicating that it was fine. "I do . . . Sonny's going to love it." I eyed Caius. "That okay with you?"

"I'm not saying anything about that." Caius wouldn't look at me. "It's the principle. They know—know—McGuire Trucking is off-limits."

I nodded, looking to Mauro and Slick. "Why didn't you pay the man? Make restitution to C-bag?"

Mauro threw his hands up. "Restitution? Okay. But do you know how much he's asking for?"

"Fifteen K," Caius said.

"Hey." I chuckled. "You jack the wrong truck—that's what happens."

"I gave you and Aro a piece of the load. He's my captain," he pointed to Aro, "and you're the Skip. I did what I was supposed to."

"Whoop-dee-fucking-do." I twirled a finger. "I could wipe my ass with one Blu-ray . . . How many were in the truck?"

"If was filled—must have been over two hundred," Caius said. "They'll sell them outta a trunk for almost nothing and still make out like bandits . . ." He kept talking to himself.

"Regardless," Mauro laughed, shaking his head. "I don't see you two rushing to give up your goods—"

"I'm enjoying it. My kids love it. We watched some shit last night." Aro smiled. "Thanks again." He toasted, raising his coffee to his lips.

"I don't think I should pay him," Mauro said. "I'm not going to—it's just a truck." He looked to me. "I'm serious."

"No." I poked his arm. "Serious is what happens if you don't pay him—my hand. You feel me?" I raised a brow.

"All due respect," he backed away a few steps, "I'm always holding my tongue—"

"When?" Aro asked. "When the fuck do you hold your tongue? You're either talking shit, or running over the bridge to cry to Luke," Aro said.

Mauro ignored him. "How come I always get the shit end? I'm a newly made guy—I'm busting my ass just to make tribute every week. I should have been made two years ago . . . when I went with Ron to do that thing in Connecticut . . . but no. I worked my ass off, and then—"

"Books were closed for a while." I shrugged. "We weren't accepting any new members, but you did well, and you got your stripe . . . However, ever since, you got me regretting my decision."

Mauro's shoulders slumped.

"M," Aro placed his arm around his shoulder, "You gotta reputation already. You're really making a name—gossiping like some cunty bitch, being an ignorant, hardheaded, hothead, and a whiny baby—who ran to Jerz of all places?" He spat all of that out rapidly and in one breath, and he never stuttered. I wanted to chuckle. "Bro, with all of that . . . you wanna add to it by you not paying C-bag the tribute your boss asked you to?" he laughed, looking to me.

"Let me ask you this." I held my lips, leaning in close. "You got a death wish?"

"I—I—"

"Nah, for real," I said. "I like you—don't get me wrong—but you've proved to be a lot more trouble than you're worth these past few months. You moved up fast—although you had to wait to get your wings . . . and now you act like you're some big shot, like the world fucking owes you. Well, let me tell you something . . . it doesn't owe you shit. You're only as good as your next heist, your sports book, the money you kick up each week. Just like anyone else . . . you keep fucking up, and you'll find yourself in the fucking ground."

Mauro didn't have a reply.

I looked between him and Caius. "Pay the man his fucking money."

"Fine." Mauro put his hands up again, and I noticed Slick staring at me.

"You got a problem?" I asked him.

"No," he rushed out.

"One more thing," I started, my gaze lingering—going to Mauro and then Slick. "You leave McGuire Trucking and anything else that belongs to anyone in this fucking family the fuck alone . . . capisce? We don't steal from each other."

"It was just a truck."

"Excuse me?" I asked.

"Nothing." Mauro shook his head, turning to Slick. "We're lucky we make a G off the whole thing now."

"It is what it is," Aro said. "And don't you go crying to Jersey again. They can't and won't do shit for you. We're your friends—not them, and you ain't seen problems yet . . . trust."

Mauro laughed, a loud cackle, throwing his head back. "You get it, right?" he asked his friend. "They basically just took a shit on our heads, and we're supposed to say, 'Thanks for the hat'."

Now, they both laughed.

And I . . . I lost my temper, grabbing onto his collar to push him back into the wall. "You got jokes?"

His eyes were wide. "Skip—"

I searched them, his eyes, enjoying the fear I saw. "You're walking a thin line, my friend. Really fucking thin." I pulled him away to slam him back again. "Aro's right. You haven't seen problems yet. You fuck up, we correct you—you pay for it. That's the way it goes . . . This thing of ours. Understand?"

He nodded, vehemently.

"Skip." Aro patted my back, and when I turned I saw Damion, Lizzie, and my father coming back.

"Shape up, or you'll find yourself with a fucking tag on your toe—got it?" I asked, letting Mauro go.

He put his hands up in surrender. "I swear. I'll—"

Giving him a glare, I left the area—his area—going to my son. Dame came right to me, standing expectantly, while I bent low to be attentive.

"Mommy says Sonny's going to be okay . . . That doctor was like a superhero. He saved Sonny." He actually wore a smile.

I nodded. "I told you that." Grinning, I palmed his little cheek, happy that he looked relieved.

"Oh, well, you know . . . " He was fidgety, looking up to the ceiling, and that's when something hit me—something from my childhood—which made me chuckle.

"You believe—trust—Mommy . . . more than me, and that's okay." My forehead leaned on his. "Growing up . . . heck, until I met Mommy, my mommy was the only person I trusted—believed."

He wrapped his arms around my neck. "I love you, Daddy."

"Love you, too, baby." My throat felt thick as I embraced him. "We have to be brave. Remember?"

"I memember," he mumbled.

I held his face. "You'll look out for your sister? Keep Ant in line so he doesn't drive Grandpa crazy?"

"'K," he whispered.

I picked up his chin. "We'll all be together soon—this isn't forever."

He sniffled, and I knew my Damion was being the toughest he could.

"Come on." I stood up to look at my father. "You're going to get all new clothes, too."

"We're not going to the house?" Dad asked.

I shook my head no. "Just go. I'll send you money wherever . . . take the kids on a shopping spree."

He hugged me tightly. "I'll take care of everything. Go be with Bella. The Feds are lurking, they're still here . . . I'm going to send an associate from the firm down—someone to sit with Sonny and Bella in case you have to step out."

I patted his back as I pulled away. "Thank you—"

"I'll call that same security company—the ones who looked out for your brother."

"Sounds good." I turned my head to stare down the hall, to see if I could spot the agents, and I couldn't.

"They're going to be watching—waiting for you to strike whoever-the-fuck."

"I know," I said.

"You be careful, you hear me, Edward?" Now, he looked choked up.

"Don't—I can't." I shrugged, not able to see him like that. Him getting teary eyed for my mother, sure, but I actually appreciated those who looked unfazed by recent circumstances. The tears . . .Well, as of late—today—they'll get me started. That's one of the only reasons I'm away from Bella right now. "I can't—just go." I reached around him to take Kylie from Jackie.

My baby girl had a little bit of her brother's blood on her snowsuit. "Love you, baby." I placed kisses on her cheek and neck.

"Dad-dee!" She squealed, which, of course, made me smile. "Wove-a-you."

All too soon, my face crumbled for no reason—holding my toddler as though I'd never see her again. "Daddy loves you—so, so much."

"Wove-a-you."

"Go." With a quick kiss to her forehead, I handed her back to Jackie. "Thank you."

Jackie gave me a sad smile in return as she nodded.

Dad spoke to Carlisle for a minute.

I waited . . .

"I'll tell her to call you as soon as she's ready." My brother and father parted.

"I'll take care of all of them—no need for you two to worry." Dad made eye contact with me, too.

"Thanks," I whispered.

Sighing, I rested my hands on my hips while Dad hustled them all onto the elevator. Anton went to leave with them, but then I called him back out. "I need you here. They'll be fine." Sonny was an awful casualty, as those who shot their guns were after me—not my kids. They just got caught in it . . . No one was going to fuck with my pops or the children.

Anton nodded, a hint of a smile on his lips. "Whatever you need, Skip—whatever you need."

I shook his hand in both of mine. "I'll remember that."

"You want some coffee?" He jerked a thumb behind himself.

"Yeah," I said. "Get one for the missus, too—light and sweet."

"You got it." He squeezed my shoulder.

I looked to my brother. "Nunzio still here?"

He shook his head. "That dumbass is fine—sends his regards. He called me." Carlisle rolled his eyes. "I think he just laid it on thick. Plus, if the docs are cautious—brain injuries and all that . . . Nunz is fine—home already."

I blew out a breath, still staring down that hallway.

"Ed, go sit with Bella," Carlisle whispered. "Send Alex out . . . but know I'll be right here." He pointed to the ground. "You, Aro, and I . . . we need to figure out our next move."

"Yeah." I rasped.

"Aro just sent a few guys around—to get some answers."

"Cool." I took a wary glance around. "Lloyd—"

"Anton dropped him off at O'Reilly's before he came here. Liam and Jim are keeping an eye on him—one of them is."

"I know that." My gaze was still focused on the ICU.

"He's going to be fine."

"I know, but still . . . we're so lucky. If it didn't get stuck in his rib—" I couldn't fall apart like this in front of my guys. The Skip, crying? Whether or not my kid is sick, I can't do that, and I gritted my teeth together until the lump in my throat passed. "They say we're not out of the woods yet—"

Carlisle placed his hands on my shoulders, turning me to face him. "He lost a lot of blood. He's got a broken arm and a cracked rib . . . He's sleepy because my poor nephew is as high as a kite."

"His lung, though . . . That shit is scaring me," I said.

"Alex says his vitals—the oxygen levels in his blood—they're still good. Sonny is a healthy kid. More than that, he's even tougher than you were at that age," he laughed, and I joined him.

"Even when he's sick . . . never complains . . . never cries wolf. He bitches about the dumbest shit, if you think about it."

"Exactly . . . because he's a kid—they do that, even the tough ones." He pulled me into him. "He's going to be fine—gonna be pissed he missed out on Disney."

"Right." I chuckled again, hugging him tight, and he kissed my cheeks. "I'll make it up to him."

Carlisle nodded. "I know just the thing."

I smiled and snorted. "Yeah, when Bella leaves, I'll have one of the Eclipse chicks come down."

My brother agreed, nodding his head.

"I was kidding," I said.

"If I was his age . . . shit. That'd blow Disney out of the water. Fucking Mickey Mouse . . . This kid just wants to see a pair of tits . . . there's no harm in that." We both became quiet, and when I looked to him, he broke the silence. "You have to have faith, Edward."

He sounded like Nanny, and a fresh wave of emotions hit me. "Nanny . . ."

"She'd kick God's ass herself . . . if he took a turn for the worse. She's watching." He pointed up, his eyes filled with tears. "Mom, too . . . Both of them—they're our angels—and I know you think that's a crock of shit, but I have to believe that . . . wish you did too." He squeezed my hand. "I love you, Ed." His tone was hushed with that last one.

I nodded, keeping my gaze low. "I love you, too."

"Go." He gave me a nudge. "Anton comes back with the coffees, I'll bring 'em in. The guys are talking about ordering Chinese . . . but who could eat?" Carlisle jerked his head.

I puffed my cheeks, blowing out a breath. "Get something for Bella. She won't leave his side . . . You know what she likes."

"Definitely." He gave me another nudge, and I went.

Apprehensive and still scared out of my fucking mind, I walked back to Sonny's room. I hated seeing him like that—asleep, knowing he was in immense pain.

I'd give anything—anything in this world to take this whole day back, everything about it. I'd also give anything to take all the pain away from Sonny, the confusion and fright away from Damion, and the hurt . . . away from Bella.

Powerless . . .

I was faced with another situation that my nine or mind—my quick thinking—couldn't get me out of.

Months ago, just like when Carlisle and Aro were in the hospital, it was going to be another waiting game.

When I caught a reflection off the glass, I stopped. Barely, I saw the two agents in Sonny's room. They had their backs to me, which made me peek in. Bella still held vigil, staring at our son, while Alex stood awkwardly behind her—her hand on my wife's shoulder.

"She doesn't know anything. I'll grab Car—Mr. Cullen." Alex went to turn away.

"You mean, your boyfriend?" Agent Hilsa asked. "Sweetheart, you're a kid. You have a nice job, a nice life . . . don't get in too deep."

"Excuse me?"

"I know you won't listen, although I wish you the best of luck . . . hopefully you'll fare better than the others . . . Maybe you will . . . you look like a sweetie." They laughed.

"You should mind your business." Alex sounded angry. "There's a sick child in here, and his mother who doesn't need this bullshit. Unless you're making an arrest or have a warrant, I suggest you go. They can't help you."

Bella reached back to hold Alex's hand, which was still perched on her shoulder.

"On the contrary, we're here to help," Hilsa stated, staring at his partner. "The Cullen brothers aren't exactly why we're here . . . We're here to get answers, so we can put those who did this behind bars."

Bella laughed, a low breathy chuckle. "Anything you say can and will be used against you . . . you pigs don't lie." She sounded like me. "We talk to you, and you'll still find something to pin on us."

"Bella." Alex rubbed her back, looking up to the Feds. "Go . . . It's immediate family only—those are hospital rules."

"Isabella," Hilsa started, a softness to his voice as he bent low, "we can help you. We can make sure that this doesn't happen again." He looked to Sonny, and I wanted to rip him to shreds. The audacity . . .

"What?" Bella snorted. "If I give you Edward, you'll put me up somewhere with my kids in New Mexico?" Her tone was teasing, but I know my Bebella. "I'm just his wife . . . you think he tells me anything?" Inside, she was seething, holding herself together so she wouldn't slap one of them.

"You could start over. You're still a young woman." Hilsa continued. "You can leave this all behind, and I'll make sure nothing sticks to you. Anything you tell us . . . you'd have total immunity." He took a card out of his pocket. "Please consider it." He held what I guessed was his contact information out to her. The card hung in the air while my wife brought Sonny's hand to her lips. "Think about your children," Hilsa whispered. "We can get you and them out of here."

"Why don't you get out of here?" Alex asked.

Hilsa still held that card. "Mrs. Cullen—"

Bella wouldn't acknowledge him.

"I'll make sure she gets it." Carlisle's chick tore it from his hands. "Now, go . . ."

When they came toward me, I turned away—to pretend like I hadn't heard anything. My attempt at nonchalance went well as they left the room.

"Skip." Hilsa smiled. "You got lucky—sounds like Santino is going to pull through."

I didn't reply—I didn't have one, unless sticking my nine in his mouth was a new way to greet someone. In the back of my mind, I know he's only trying to do his job, but to sway my wife? Even ask such questions? I had no fear, never did I think Bella would turn on me. This guy just pissed me the fuck off.

"We need to talk." He leaned into me. "Lawyer-up, do whatever you gotta do . . . bring that piece-of-shit brother of yours with you, and come down to headquarters."

Again, they didn't get a response from me.

"Come talk to us before anyone else gets hurt . . . Oh, and I'm not asking," he whispered before he walked off.

When I looked back into the room, I saw Alex staring down at the business card. Her eyes kept going between it and my wife . . . I wanted to make myself known, but I was curious.

So, I stood there for another ten seconds . . . until Shorty crumpled it up and threw it into the garbage can.

That shit made me grin—made me think she'd be just as loyal as Bella . . . maybe.

"Hey." I entered.

Bella's head whipped to me. "The Feds were just—"

"Don't worry about it." I waved a hand, going to stand by Sonny's feet. He was still asleep, looking pale, and very small—smaller than usual. "They want me to come down." I jerked off the air.

My wife gave me a small grin.

"Not a fan of New Mexico?" I asked.

"I should probably go," Alex said, pointing.

Bella pulled her around to face her. "You've been a great friend. Thanks for going with them."

Alex nodded, and then kissed her forehead. "I don't mind—it's not like I had a choice anyway, with Carlisle and my dad."

"It's really for the best—the less our guys gotta worry about the better, right?" Bella asked, and I wished she always had that same mentality. When we went to the mattresses with Jersey, Carlisle and Aro were out of commission. I had no one I could trust, and that was the only time I had Bella stick around when shit popped off.

"He's going to be okay," Alex whispered. "I can't imagine how you feel, and I don't know what to say—nothing I'd say could make you feel better, but . . . I'll have my phone. You call me whenever."

"Make sure C walks you down to your car," I added, with the knowledge that Mauro was still hanging around.

She nodded. "Okay . . ." She stood up to sigh.

"Coloring books, drawing." I walked closer to her. "Dame gets upset—suggest you guys draw something. That calms him, and you remind him every day that Sonny's okay and that we love him." It was awkward when I patted her bicep. "You're a good kid."

Bella turned to her friend, too. "Give him belly smooches for me—same with Kylie."

"I promise." She nodded. "Um, thanks," she said to me, her cheeks turning pink. "I really should—" She pointed behind herself.

"Kylie likes the Black Eyed Peas," Bella whispered. "If she gets fussy—can't relax . . . play some of their music and dance a bit, and if she wants her bottle at night . . . I know Jackie won't relent. But just give it to her—" My wife started crying again. "It's either be here or go with them." She looked to me. "Dame and Kylie need me, too—I feel like I'm being torn apart."

"Hey." I was quick to get on my knees in front of her. "There's nothing you can do for Sonny but worry. I'll be here . . . If you wanna go with them—"

"Fuck no." She wiped her nose. "Just . . . thanks," she said to her friend. "You should go. I want them out of New York ASAP."

"Really sorry this happened." Alex rapidly kissed Bella's hair and then ran from the room.

As soon as she was gone, I gathered Bella into my arms. "I'm so sorry."

"I know," she whispered. "You didn't pull the trigger, though."

"If I wasn't—"

She shook her head, leaning away.

"Regrets?" I asked, because I had a carload.

"No, well, yeah . . ." She stared at Sonny. "I felt nauseous all morning, like, I knew something was going to happen. I should have just . . . I needed a break—I was selfish. I used the Christmas shopping excuse just so you'd pick them up from school, give them dinner—" she sobbed, "and look what happened . . . My baby boy."

"Whoa . . . baby." I palmed her face, making her look at me. "You cannot—I won't let you blame yourself. You're with them every day—it's the same shit, different days. I get it. I'm home, but I don't always do my part." I shrugged. "It's not your fault."

"He has to be okay."

"He will be." I hugged her.

"Tighter."

I groaned, holding her the firmest I could without breaking any of her ribs. "I'm gonna get the guys who did this."

"Do you know . . .?"

"Not yet." I rubbed her back, placing a kiss on her neck.

"I want ten minutes alone with them."

"Bella," I laughed.

She held my chin, staring me in the eyes. "I've never been more serious about anything in my life."

I cleared my throat. "If that's what you want."

"I want," she said.

Thank you for reading.

Please leave me your thoughts.


Fandoms4Autism - I am donating Quiet Storm Chapter One told in Edward's point of view. Ever wondered what Edward thought about Bella? What he and his brother were up to before they met her? It's an amazing cause. Please donate! It's really amazing. LOL. I LOVE the way it came out, and I actually like it better than the original first chappy.

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Fandom4NKH - No Kid Hungry - I will be donating chapter one of my upcoming Copward fic. At the moment, it doesn't have a name; meanwhile, chapter one is over 11k words long. LOL. By the time it's released for public viewing, I hope to have most of it complete and update regularly - considering the fact that I hope two of my WIPs are also complete. Blah.

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Fandom4children. I'm not 100% sure if they are still taking donations, but I should hope so . . . I donated a Quiet Storm outtake told by Bella during the time Edward was in prison.

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Crap. I'm sure there's more . . . something I forgot. Anyway, these are all great causes, and as a "thank you" for contributing, you'll receive great compilations filled with pieces written by dozens of kickass authors :)

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