Chapter 20

Songs:

Don't Fight It, 10 Years
Bloodstream, Stateless
All Around Me, Flyleaf
Reason Why, Ron Pope

*Link to YouTube playlist in chapter 1!

**SO much fiddling was had. All mistakes are mine. A very special thank you to ghostreader24 for taking an extra look at this before I posted to make sure I got it right.

**IMPORTANT** Please read the ending A/N about posting schedule**

Bella

"What do you mean you haven't been sleeping well? You've got nothing to do but lay around all day. No Sam to chase around. No cooking or cleaning to do. You aren't even coming in to work for a few days."

I shrug, even though she can't see me. "I'm in a new place all alone, Rose. Every time I close my eyes, I hear some strange sound. It doesn't exactly bode well for a good night's sleep." I rummage through the kitchen until I find a bag of bagels.

"Then raid E's liquor stash or snoop through his medicine cabinet. I'm sure there's some little helpers hanging out somewhere that would help you sleep."

"No, I'll be fine. I'll probably be back home in a day or two."

"Is that all it's supposed to be? My asshole husband never told me what was going on."

"Mac hasn't checked in?" I tilt my head and hold the phone against my shoulder as I slide the bagel into the toaster and press the lever.

"No, he hasn't. And he knows it pisses me off when he doesn't call," she says with a huff. "And he turned off the shared location on his phone, so I can't track him."

"You don't know where he is? He didn't tell you where they were going?"

"No, Bella, he didn't tell me. You know how it is. They don't tell us everything. I'm sure Masen never told you everything they ever got up to either."

"No, I guess not." When my breakfast pops out of the toaster, I plate it and go back to the sofa in the family room, settling into my pile of blankets. "So, you're really okay with me not coming in to work for a few days? Or at least until everything has blown over?"

"It's fine. It'll just mean you'll have a stack of shit to take care of when you get back. Call it job security."

"I appreciate it, Rose. Really."

"I love you, girl, but do you honestly think I had a choice about letting you hide out for a few days?"

"What do you mean you didn't have a choice?"

Her chortle carries over the line. "Edward didn't really give me an option about giving you the time off. And since he's one of my investors ..."

"He told me you'd be taking a few days off, too."

"And when is the last time I did what I was told?"

Before I can respond, the sound of the front door slamming echoes down the hallway.

"Rose, I'll have to call you back." I disconnect the call and toss my phone on the sofa, practically tripping over my own feet getting up. "Edward? Is that you?"

"Yeah."

When I round the corner, I'm met with an exhausted-looking Edward. Sagging shoulders, dark circles under his eyes, and a layer of dust and dirt from the road tell me it was a rough night. But when I see the ripped fabric of his hoodie and the red-soaked gauze peeking through, I gasp.

"What happened?" I rush to his side, reaching for his arm where he's obviously injured.

"It's just a scratch," he says with a poor attempt at a grin.

"Just a scratch?" I look up at him with narrowed eyes.

"Just a scratch, Bella." He moves to step past me, but I stop him.

"Show me."

He purses his lips. "I don't have the energy for this right now. I'll tell you everything you want to know, but right now, I just want a fucking shower and some sleep."

Not used to his gruffness, I step aside and let him pass, even though everything inside me is screaming to make sure he's really okay. I go back to the sofa feeling somewhat chastised, but when the shower starts down the hall, I push away that feeling and get to my feet.

I walk through his bedroom and stand outside the bathroom, listening, unsure if my presence would be appreciated at the moment. But when I hear an unmistakable hiss from inside, I don't hesitate to open the door.

Standing at the vanity, Edward is struggling to remove his hoodie as the room fills with steam. An open prescription bottle sits on the counter.

"Can I help?" I ask, my voice barely rising above the sound of the running water.

His eyes meet mine in the mirror. I can see his hesitation, but he nods anyway. I step cautiously toward him, worried he'll change his mind and send me away. But when he doesn't, I reach for him. With careful hands I help pull his right arm from his hoodie before pulling it over his head. And while his injury is on the other side, his tiredness and the pain in his left arm are making his movements stiff and sluggish. He very slowly tugs the final sleeve off his injured arm, wincing.

"What happened?" I ask softly as my fingertips ghost over his bandaged arm.

"It's just a graze. Stings more than anything else."

Carefully tugging at the end of the gauze, I unwrap his bicep. The material sticks to his wound, and Edward grits his teeth as I pull away the saturated cotton. The gash is long but shallow and angry red around the edges.

"You rode all the way home like this? Couldn't someone else have ridden your bike so you could come back in the van?"

The corner of his mouth turns up. "Who said we went anywhere with the van? Me and the guys were just out for a night ride."

I look up at him, staring at him for a long moment. He stares right back, daring me to question him. But I'm unwilling to call him out on his bullshit. I know better than anyone that he's only trying to protect me from knowing too much.

My gaze moves back to his injury. My fingertips dance over the skin around it, and my eyes flit to where his heart beats in his chest, just inches away. If the bullet had—

My vision clouds with tears and my throat feels thick. "Who shot you?" I manage to ask.

He gently grasps my chin, tilting it so that I meet his eyes. "It doesn't matter. I'm fine, Bella. It's not—"

"But it could have been." I shove against his bare chest, but he remains unmoved. My voice rises. "They could have had a better aim and shot you square in your goddamn chest, Edward." I grit my teeth, and the tears that have welled in my eyes finally fall.

"Shh. Come here," he says, pulling me into his arms. "I'm okay. In the grand scheme of things, it really is just a scratch." He leans down and buries his nose in my neck. "I had my vest on. Even if he'd have hit me a few inches to the right, I would have been fine. I promise."

I wrap my arms around his waist and nod against his chest, breathing him in. A sudden wave of need washes over me, the need to reassure myself he's really okay, and I squeeze him tighter. My fingers flex against his back, and his lips leave tentative kisses on my neck.

"I can't lose you, too," I whisper.

"You won't, baby."

I lean my head back and look up at him. "We both know you can't promise me that."

He stares down at me, contemplating his next words. "No, I can't," he finally says. "But I can promise you I'll be with you as long as I'm here ... if you'll let me." The earnest sincerity in his eyes is enough to break what is left of my resolve.

Slowly and carefully, I reach up on my tiptoes and bring my lips to his. It's the first time I've kissed him in so long, and the emotions running through me as my mouth meets his nearly knock me off my feet.

Worry, relief, apprehension, hope ... love—they all swirl in my head ... in my heart.

His hands spread wide across my back, holding me tightly as his tongue glides against mine. One of his hands moves into my hair, and with a soft tug, he pulls my head back to grant himself access to my neck.

"Please tell me this means you're mine again, Bella," he says between nips at my skin. "I said I'd wait for you to decide, so you need to tell me if this is just—"

I cut him off with a kiss, rough and bruising, not bothering to hold back. I reach for his belt, unbuckling it and lowering his zipper, pushing his jeans over his hips and allowing them to fall to the floor. With careful but sure movements, he reaches for the hem of my shirt and slowly pulls it over my head. When our eyes meet and I show no signs of hesitation, he grabs the waistband of my shorts and pushes them down, leaving me bare, both of us now standing naked in the middle of his steam-filled bathroom.

"Tell me, Bella," he says, the warmth of his breath against the shell of my ear sending a shiver down my spine. "Tell me you're going to let me love you."

My eyes fall closed and I nod, the words he so desperately wants to hear lodged in my throat.

He reaches for my hand, pulling me toward the shower, and I willingly follow. The glass door opens, and we step under the hot spray. For a moment, we just stand there, our hands intertwined but our bodies still an inch apart. His intense green eyes bore into mine while we breathe each other's breaths. The weight of the moment isn't lost on me, and he must realize it, too. I know what this is, what this means. Taking this step means I will be surrendering to the feelings I've carried with me for so long. But the look in Edward's eyes is all I need to see.

He's here for this—good or bad—and I let myself fall.

With the last of my reservations evaporating like the escaping steam, I move that final inch toward him. My hands glide over his chest, coming to rest on his shoulders. And as he grasps my waist, pulling me closer, the feel of our bodies pressing together causes a familiar ache to surge through my veins and across my skin, finally settling low in my belly.

His mouth crashes to mine, and as our lips and tongues tangle, he cradles me in his arms like I'm some fragile piece of glass. In this moment, naked and exposed to him, I feel fragile, breakable, like if he doesn't hold onto me, I'll shatter into a thousand pieces. But his embrace completely surrounds me, holding me together.

I wrap my arms around his neck, and as I pull him closer, I can feel his hard cock between us. I also feel him tense as he holds me closer.

"Your arm—"

"Fuck my arm. I've waited too goddamn long to feel you like this, and I'm not gonna let some goddamn flesh wound stop this from happening." He pulls back and meets my eyes, his nearly black and blazing with want.

Staring up at him, my stomach clenches in nervous anticipation.

With no warning, I'm pressed against the shower wall, the tiles cool against my back. His hands continue to roam, but when he tries to pick me up, he mutters a curse. And not in a good way.

He takes a step back when I push against his chest. "What? You don't want—"

"Sit," I say, gripping his shoulders and guiding him to sit on the bench at the end of the shower. "I think maybe we should slow down just a minute. Your arm isn't—"

"Stop," he says softly, reaching for my waist. He pulls me close, and as I stand before him, he nuzzles his nose against my stomach, leaving a trail of feather-light kisses between my hipbones. "My arm is fine. I'm not going to let anything keep me from being inside you." He tugs on me a little more until I straddle him.

His finger nudges my chin, tilting my head until our lips meet. Our kiss is languid, the pace the only thing that's cooled since we stepped inside the shower. With a careful hand, he holds the back of my head as he kisses me, keeping the other splayed across the small of my back.

His erection is pressed against me, and my instincts take over. I begin to rock over him, our slow, purposeful movements causing jolts of pleasure to ripple through me with each pass of his cock against my clit. He's right there. All it would take is one small movement and he would be inside me.

Feeling him like this, skin to skin with nothing between us, is familiar, like our bodies remember all the times we were together before. But it's not so simple. In the last ten years, we've lived separate lives. We've shared ourselves with other people, and in a moment of clarity, I fight against the urge to just push myself onto him.

"Condom," I manage to say, gasping as he thrusts against me.

For a brief moment, he grips me harder before his hands fall to my hips, his grasp firm as he holds me in place. His head thumps back against the tile, his eyes squeezed closed and his breathing labored.

"What?" I ask, my heart racing.

"When I told you I've never brought anyone back to my house, I meant it." His conflicted eyes open and meet mine. "I don't have any here."

I start to pull away, but his grip on me tightens, pulling me back and pressing his forehead to mine, forcing me to look at him. "Since Seth was born, I haven't been with anyone without one, Bella. And I've been tested in the last few months. I would never put you in a position where I could hurt you that way." His eyes fall closed as he tries to calm his breathing, and his whispered plea is barely heard over the running water. "Please tell me we're good. I don't ... I can't ..."

Hearing his words of reassurance, relief floods me. And as he opens his mouth again, likely to beg me to trust him, I brush my fingertips across his lips, silencing him. "We're good."

"Yeah?" His lids flutter open, and his lips hover over mine.

"Yeah."

It's all the permission he needs. His mouth covers mine. His hands roam, caging me in his arms. And as he holds me against him, familiar feelings bubble up inside me. My body remembers his, remembers this, the passion we once shared.

He devours me ... and I welcome it.

Edward's desire, his want is tangible, and it feeds my own. I move faster, grinding harder against the base of his shaft with each pass, causing his breaths to quicken and his groans to deepen. With hooded eyes, he pulls away, panting, leaving me nearly breathless myself. Wet, open-mouthed kisses trail down my neck until his lips find my nipple. With every swirl of his tongue, my desire builds, and when his teeth gently tug on the pebbled flesh, I can no longer stand it.

I rise up fully on my knees, positioning myself over him, and meet his eyes.

"I love you, Bella," he says, quieting any lingering doubts I have. "And I'm going to spend the rest of my life showing you."

"I love you, too," I whisper as I lean in to kiss him.

Gripping his cock, he guides it as I slowly lower myself. I close my eyes, relishing the feeling of being filled, stretched ... consumed by this man. Edward's hold on my hip tightens as he pushes the final inch into me. Our groans echo in the small space, and when he's fully inside me, we still.

Our foreheads press together, our breaths escape in heavy pants as we resist the urge to move. My heart races, and I can feel his thundering beneath the surface of his skin where my hands lay. I open my eyes and am met with an intensity I won't soon forget. Darkened with lust ... love and promises I can hardly comprehend, it's like he's staring straight into my soul.

With that one look, everything left unspoken is said.

This is for real. This time, there's no one to tell us we shouldn't be together. There are no real obstacles standing in our way. As long as we don't allow ghosts of the past to haunt our present, we have a real shot at being happy ... together this time.

Cautiously, my lips return to his, and I begin to move. Closing my eyes, I get lost in the feeling of being with him this way after so long. The way his hands hold me firmly yet gently, the quiet groans that resonate from his chest as he moves below me, it's all familiar yet new all at the same time. Unhurried and with purpose, we move together, and the urgency with which he kisses me steals my breath.

Wet skin glides against wet skin, the steam swirling around us as his soft grunts and my breathy moans echo off the tiled walls. The tightening in my belly comes all too soon and is followed by a tingle creeping up my spine. My breaths come faster, and I'm not prepared for the magnitude of the feelings now rushing through me. The pleasure is almost too much, my mouth opening in a silent gasp. I squeeze my eyes closed when it begins to pull me under, but Edward isn't having it.

"Look at me, Bella," he demands through gritted teeth, his thrusts deepen as he approaches his own climax. "Let me see you come."

I do as he says and open my eyes to find him staring back. Every emotion I'm feeling—need, hope, love—is reflected back at me, and it's my undoing.

My orgasm races through my body, radiating out from my center to the tips of my ears all the way to my toes, and I cry out. With my mouth open, the sound comes from somewhere deep inside me that was long forgotten.

Our eyes stay locked on each other, and as my orgasm begins to wane, his crashes over him. The groan that escapes him is low and deep, and I feel it in my bones. His head falls back against the tiles, but his eyes stay locked on mine as he pulses inside me.

My grip on his shoulders loosens as the tension leaves my body. He relaxes his grip, but he doesn't release me. Instead, he wraps his uninjured arm around my back, holding me against his chest.

"I love you, Bella," he says breathlessly, kissing my temple.

"I love you, too."

I don't know how much time passes as we let our heart rates return to normal, and no more words are spoken. I lift myself off his lap, and he slips from my body, breaking our physical connection, but I still feel tethered to him ... a pull on my soul toward his.

I offer my hand and help him to his feet. We're both a little unsteady, but it doesn't last long. He's the first to reach for the shampoo bottle.

"Turn around," he murmurs, nudging me toward the water. With tenderness I haven't been shown in so long, he washes my hair, eventually trading the shampoo for the soap. When I'm deemed clean enough, he turns to wash himself, but I take the shampoo from his hands.

With a smile and a nod of understanding, he turns and allows me to return the favor. And even though he was just inside me, this somehow feels just as intimate.

My soap-covered hands glide over his skin, and I take the time to admire his body. The last ten years have been more than kind to him. Gone is the softness of youth, replaced with hard edges and strength he didn't have back when I knew his body. New ink covers his chest and arms, and while I've seen most of it over the years, I've never been this close. My fingertips ghost over his son's name on his chest before moving to the black swan that adorns the other side. It's been more than ten years since he showed it to me for the first time, and it's just as sharp as it was back then.

"I get it touched up every few years." His voice is deep ... gravelly, and as I look up at him, I'm caught in his intense gaze. "It means a lot to me. You mean a lot to me. I meant it when I said I never stopped loving you."

I nod and continue washing him, unsure how to respond. Moving cautiously as I wash his arm, I'm careful not to disturb the scab that has begun to form. The more I look at it, the more I think it could use a few stitches. When all the blood is washed away, I lean forward and kiss his arm.

The corner of his mouth turns up. "Did you just kiss my boo boo?"

I shake my head and smile, stepping away. "Come on." I take his hand and pull him toward me. "We're clean enough."

He reaches for the knobs and turns off the water. We move in companionable silence as we dry off. And as we move around each other in the small space, how he wordlessly sits so I can bandage his arm, it strikes me how natural it feels.

"You okay?"

His words startle me from my thoughts, and I look up. "I'm good." I step back and busy my hands with putting the first aid kit back together. "Why wouldn't I be?"

I can feel his eyes on me, but I don't look up. "Because I'm scared shitless you're going to overthink this and decide it was too fast," he says.

"I won't—"

He reaches for my hand, stilling my movements. "Bella," he says gently, "we both know you've been pushing me away for a while."

Even if they're true, his words hurt. "I haven't been pushing you away," I say defensively. "I just—" buried my husband a couple of months ago, I think to myself.

He grasps my chin, gently nudging it and forcing me to look at him. "I'm not going anywhere," he reminds me.

I nod and finish cleaning up the first aid kit, tucking it back under the sink. Meanwhile, Edward opens the door and walks into his room. I walk behind him, my hand firmly grasping the towel wrapped around my body as I watch him draw the room-darkening curtains closed.

He walks over to the bed and turns down the comforter and sheets. He looks up at me. "You're probably not tired, but will you lie down with me?" He hesitates. "I think I'll sleep better with you in my arms."

"Yeah, I can do that."

I allow the towel to fall to the floor before I slide under the covers. Turning over on my side, I watch as he does the same. Lying side by side, facing each other, we smile. My gaze keeps drifting to his arm where the bandage is already pinkening, and my eyes once again fill with tears.

"Come here," he says softly, reaching for me and pulling me toward him. "I'm fine, really."

"But you could have—"

"But I wasn't, Bella. I'm fine." He pushes a few damp tendrils behind my ear and cups my cheek. "You saw it. It's really nothing. The most damage it did was fuck up my ink. Yeah, it hurts like a bitch, but I rode home when I probably shouldn't have, which didn't help. I'm sure in a few days it'll be like nothing happened."

I nod and burrow myself deeper into his arms, his shower-warmed skin smooth and comforting as I breathe him in.

Even though it's only ten in the morning, my eyes are heavy. Wrapped in the safety of his arms, my body melts into his as I lie here. And even though it feels right, doubts creep in, making me question if this is really what's best for me. But before I can give them too much thought, his steady heartbeat and even breaths lull me back to sleep.

When I wake, I'm still cocooned in his arms. I shift in his hold and look up at him. Sleeping, he looks peaceful. I smile, thinking of how peaceful I feel at the moment ... how right it feels. Right now, here, nothing can come between us. But still, a feeling of trepidation lingers. There are people who would rather not see us together, and I have to wonder just how difficult this road could be. I press my lips to his chest, trying to silence the voices in the back of my mind.

Edward breathes in deeply, exhaling long and heavy as his arms tighten around me. "You awake?" he asks, his voice rough with sleep.

"Yeah," I whisper.

We lie together in silence for several minutes, my head lying on his chest.

"We need to talk about a few things," he says, his voice cautious.

"That sounds ominous." I look up at him. "What's wrong?"

He shifts his body until he's eye level with me. He reaches out and cups my cheek. "Caius managed to get away," he whispers.

I nod once, swallowing hard. My gaze drops to a random patch of ink on his chest. "So, the Kingsmen will—"

"No," he says, shaking his head, "no Kingsmen. We managed to pretty much dismantle the club. Caius and maybe a member or two are still out there, but he doesn't have the muscle to come after us." He places a kiss on my forehead, his lips murmuring against my skin. "And while the threat to this town may be over, I'm afraid his personal vendetta against us, against my family, is not."

"I'm not safe yet, am I?"

"I'm sorry," he says, pulling back to look into my eyes. "But no, you're not."

"What does that mean for me? Can I go home?"

Disappointment I haven't seen in a long time covers his face, but he masks it well. "I was kind of hoping you'd want to stay with me."

"What about the boys? I miss my son," I whisper, avoiding his suggestion.

"I do, too, but it's not safe yet. I'll talk to Angela tomorrow and see if they can extend their trip by a few more days, just so we can have time to figure out if Caius is still a threat. Believe me, baby, I miss the boys too, but I'd rather Seth and Sam stay away until I know it's safe for them to come home."

I nod, even though I'm anything but happy about it. "I understand."

"Does that mean you'll stay here with me for now?"

"Can I go to work?"

He grins. "Yeah, baby, you can go to work. But you'll still have a shadow until we know for sure you're safe."

I nod and snuggle into his chest. I really want to argue, to tell him that I can handle this on my own, but I know he's right.

If Caius Volturi is out there, if his club has been destroyed, he'll be out for vengeance. And if I ever want my life to return to normal, if I want it to be safe enough for my son to come home, I need to do as he's asking.

"I just got you back, Bella. I'm going to do everything in my power to keep you safe."

I nod against his chest, and he pulls away, cradling my jaw in his hand and gently nudging it until my eyes meet his.

"I love you."

Before I can respond, he places a soft kiss against my lips. And as he rolls me to my back and settles between my legs, I begin to realize just how much he means it.

A/N: How are we feeling? Do you think Bella's going to bolt? Are they closer to their HEA? And where the hell is Caius? I'd love to hear your thoughts on this one.

So, I'll be taking a week off from posting next week. I need to catch my breath. Even revising edits has been difficult this week, not to mention I've not written a single word in days. I'm more than a little distracted. The world around me is in utter chaos, and my heart is hurting. I'm hoping a short break will help me get in a better headspace. But on a positive note, I'm not leaving you with a cliffhanger. I'll be back with chapter 21 on 6/16.

I WILL be around, especially in my group on FB, and Shift WILL post this Friday.

Be kind.
Stay safe.
Stay well.

Lots of love
~Sunshine