A/N: Thanks so much for all your wonderful thoughts.

Most characters belong to S. Meyer. The rest belong to me. All mistakes are mine as well.

Chapter 27 – Arraignment

When I arrive at the federal courthouse, James and Kate are already in the courtroom, seated up front and surrounded by a team of lawyers. Assistant D.A., Cora Cope, and her paralegal arrived before me, armed with Bella's damning statement. Seated opposite the defense 'Dream Team,' Cope eyes me as I walk by, feigning nonrecognition, pretending she only knows me as Doctor Anthony Masen, one of three being arraigned this morning.

I cross the room with my "attorney," Alistair Randall, at my side. He's a man in his forties, genuinely a lawyer by trade, but he's also a fellow undercover FBI agent recently drafted into this segment of the undercover façade. Keeping my gaze front and center, I sense more than see a few other sets of eyes on me.

But it's been less than an hour since I left Bella still shaking and still refusing to look at me. This morning, I've learned exactly how James – and Kate – killed Charles and Renee Swan. I've just witnessed Bella, who's usually almost disturbingly calm and serene, fall apart because of what they did to her. Both James and Kate were in the car that pushed Bella and her family's car into the cold, murky river. Then James shot her, and Kate was his accomplice.

Over the past couple of years, I was sure I'd perfected the proverbial poker face. I prided myself on being as good an actor as any of those Oscar-winning celebrities. But at the moment, I don't trust myself to even look at those who are responsible for Bella's pain, much less to put on an act like I don't want to murder them with my bare hands.

Don't look at them. Not now. Not yet. Calm down first. Don't look at them.

Counselor Randall and I take our places at a pair of seats reserved for us by and with the rest of the defense team. Randall, playing his part, shakes hands with the rest of the legal team, pulls out paperwork from his leather satchel, adjusts his gray-striped tie, and clears his throat in prep.

All the while, I sit there with my hands steepled over the table and close to my chest. My eyes are glued straight ahead, pasted to the judge's empty bench. They pan tightly to the great seal of New York County hanging behind the bench before panning to the red, white, and blue national flag, and then to the navy state flag beside it. I study everything and anything except James and Kate, though I feel their eyes burning a hole in my head.

James is seated at the other end of the table. In my periphery, I see him lean forward, trying to catch my eye.

"Hey, Tony. Tony."

I continue facing forward as if I can't hear him. Next to him, Kate joins in.

"Anthony."

Don't look. You'll fucking kill them if you look now. Calm down before you-

"Tony?"

For more than one reason, I won't ignore the individual who now calls my name. For one, Garrett sounds despondent. For another, he's been a good friend, even if he believes me to be someone I'm not. And finally, pure guilt prevents me from ignoring Garrett; yes, he's been a good friend, and I've betrayed that friendship in the most despicable manner. At the very least, I owe him my attention.

Turning sideways in my chair, I force my tight jaw to slacken as I face Garrett and take in his wide, dark-rimmed eyes. The fear and anxiety reflected in them awaken my sympathy for him if for no one else here this morning. He's visibly shaking. Nonetheless, he pats me on the shoulder before offering me a weak smile.

"How are you doing, Tone? How've you been holding up?"

"I'm okay, Garrett. Thanks."

"Jesus, look at your face. When we heard through the lawyers that you'd had a run-in with a couple of the federal agents after they took you in, I never imagined they'd…well…"

It's the story the D.A.'s office and the agency have fed the defense team to explain both why I wasn't held with Kate and James and why I've got bruises all over my face.

I merely shrug.

"What a nightmare, huh?" he says. "Tony, if the feds used excessive force, speak to your lawyer. No matter what, they had no right, and nowadays-"

"It's fine, Garrett."

"But, Tony-"

"Honestly, I probably deserved it. You should see the other guys," I quip with a weak smile. Garrett still appears skeptical, but before he can continue, I change the subject. "How have you been holding up with all this, Garrett?"

Garrett squeezes his eyes shut for a moment. When he reopens them, the fear in them has multiplied.

"I'm so damn worried for Kate. Honestly, I still don't understand where all these charges against her came from. They're saying that she, James, and Alec were behind some clandestine and illegal operation involving pharmaceutical fatalities? That they were trying to bring you into the operation? And worst of all, that she and James murdered or attempted to murder some individuals related to James' girlfriend, Maria, who it turns out isn't really called Maria? What's more, no one knows where the hell Alec is. He just disappeared the other night at the party. Do you have any idea what's going on, Tony? Because I'm completely lost."

He's out of breath by the time he finishes. Unfortunately – or more likely, fortunately – the door to the judge's chambers opens before sufficient time transpires where Garrett can reasonably expect an answer from me.

"All rise!"

All conversation ceases as we face forward and Judge Carmen Maestro, a middle-aged woman strides in briskly and confidently, her black robe billowing in her wake. Standing, we button our suit jackets and smooth down our clothing while the bailiff introduces her honorableness. Once she takes her seat at the bench, the rest of us follow suit and retake our seats. Docket numbers are read, the case is summarized, and the judge calls for Kate Nixon to be the first to stand and be arraigned.

Frenzied whispers ensue to my left. A chair scrapes the floor as Kate rises to her feet, followed by her lawyer.

"Counselor, has your client been advised of her rights and of the charges she faces?"

"Yes, she has, your honor."

Now…gradually…steadily…I force myself to look at Kate.

She wears a new dress. I know it's new because it's nothing she'd wear under normal circumstances. The dress is too simple for her taste – dark and understated. It's the type of dress a professional who's more interested in assisting her patients than in showing herself off would wear to the office. Her legal team has obviously been judicious in its choice – color, length, fit, and material have all been meticulously consulted and considered before the dress's delivery to the cell where Kate spent the past thirty-six hours or so. Her hair is pulled back in a neat bun. Together with her low-heeled shoes, the entire outfit is not the type a murdering monster would sport – if you can judge a monster by its clothing. Kate wears just enough makeup to conceal the fact that she hasn't slept much in the past two nights. Her dark under-eye circles contrast starkly with her pale lips and cheeks.

This morning, instead of monstrous, Kate only appears tired and nervous. Nonetheless, knowing her as I unfortunately do, I can imagine the hysterics that the past thirty-six hours or so have wrought. Even more so, the eleventh-hour charges of first-degree murder and attempted murder, which have now been brought against her, and of which the Assistant D.A. was legally compelled to advise Kate's legal team through the terms of discovery, must've left her an internal if not external mess. But I'm sure her legal team has advised that she tamp down on any outward displays of panic or anger – only guilty monsters appear panicked and angry. From here on in, Kate must assume a façade of calm and collected, the façade of an individual who doesn't submit to baser instincts.

Jesus, how could I have done what I did with her? Even without knowing about what she did to Bella and her parents, how could I have-

Cutting off that train of thought is imperative right now or I'll never get through this arraignment without exposing myself. Instead, I force my internal musings into silence for now and listen as Judge Maestro reads out Kate's criminal charges.

"Doctor Nixon, you are hereby charged with…"

As the judge proceeds, Kate's eyes abruptly flicker to me as if she feels my gaze. In the fraction of a second before our eyes meet, I silently pray to God, to luck, and to Billy Black's god of war that I've managed to tamp down on my baser instincts as well, and that all my hatred and disgust – toward both Kate and myself – aren't as openly displayed in my gaze as they're felt in my gut.

"How does your client plead?" Judge Maestro asks once she's read all the charges.

Blinking rapidly, Kate returns her attention to the judge, and I can only hope she hasn't seen through me.

"My client pleads not guilty, your honor."

Of course, she does. The plea is recorded by the stenographer, and then the judge calls for a discussion on bail. Counselor Cope begins.

"Your honor, the state would strongly argue that, considering the charges Doctor Nixon faces, it's fair to assume that she poses a flight risk-"

"Your honor, that's ludicrous," Kate's lawyer scoffs. "My client would never-"

"Furthermore, and again, considering the charges, Doctor Nixon certainly has the financial means and the contacts to assist her in fleeing the country. The state, therefore, proposes that Doctor Nixon be held in custody without bail until the trial."

The courtroom erupts into hushed outbursts. Meanwhile, all remaining blood drains from Kate's face. She turns terror-stricken eyes toward her lawyer.

"Do something!" she hisses.

Her lawyer gestures sharply with her palm, ordering Kate into silence. In my periphery, I see James lean into one of his lawyers. Even from here, I hear the quick and panicked tones of his voice, and I suppress a smile. That's right, motherfucker. You're next.

"Your honor, the assistant D.A.'s proposal is preposterous! My client has no priors! What's more, Doctor Nixon is more than an upstanding member of this community, she's an invaluable, essential part of the medical community, who is venerated in her field of expertise! She donates to charities, performs volunteer service, and her current roster of patients will be lost, their health likely threatened if Doctor Nixon is held without bail until a trial! Holding Doctor Nixon without bail would be yet another miscarriage of justice in what's already a flimsy and last-minute case brought against my client!"

Judge Maestro's eyes pan impassively from one counselor to the other as she ponders the information presented. Her gaze finally rests on Counselor Cope.

"Counselor, present me with another option."

Cope's nostrils flare as she reiterates her previous points. "Judge Maestro, considering the severity of the charges against Doctor Nixon, together with the first-hand testimony the state has obtained corroborating those charges, the state vehemently requests that Doctor Nixon be held without bail until the trial-"

"That's not going to happen, Counselor Cope, even if you vehemently request it. Please remember that this is an arraignment, not a trial. Don't try to build your case. Simply present me with another option."

Counselor Cope presses her lips together tightly, and I swallow hard, forcing myself not to howl at the top of my lungs.

"Judge," Kate's counselor cuts in, "we request that my client be released on her own recognizance-"

Cope's eyes bulge wildly, but Judge Maestro snorts and shuts down the defense attorney's suggestion before it gets far.

"That's not going to happen either, Counselor."

"Very well, then," the defense lawyer continues. "My client can make bail up to ten million dollars-"

"Ten million dollars?" Counselor Cope interrupts in outrage. "Ten percent of that, which is all she actually has to put up, is pocket change to your client!"

"Meeting a million dollar bond will be a hardship for anyone, including my client!"

"That's bull! Your client's shoe collection is likely worth more than that!"

"We're not here to discuss her shoes!"

"No, we're here to discuss the murders and attempted murder she committed-"

"Your honor, my client is innocent, but the state apparently wants to skip the arraignment and go straight to trial!"

"Counselor Cope, watch yourself!" Judge Maestro warns. "Once again I'll remind you that this is an arraignment, not a trial. Stick to the issue, and don't make me admonish you again."

Counselor Cope grits her teeth. "I apologize, Judge. Very well. If the court won't deny bail, then the state requests bail be set at one-hundred-million dollars."

Bedlam resounds around the court. But Cope isn't done.

"Further, we request that all of Doctor Nixon's assets be frozen until after the trial and that Doctor Nixon give up her passport to this court to ensure she will not attempt to leave the country."

"That is the most absurd bail request-"

"Bail is set at fifty-million dollars," Judge Maestro says.

Mayhem ensues.

All the while, Kate stands there, chest heaving, nostrils flaring as Judge Maestro continues handing down her adjudication.

"Furthermore, an accurate and complete record of all Doctor Nixon's financial holdings will be delivered to this court by three p.m. this afternoon, at which point, all such assets will be frozen.

Kate turns bewildered eyes toward her lawyer. "What? Is this really happening?"

"Judge, that bond amount is an unfair sentence in and of itself! Furthermore, how is my client to pay any of her bills with her assets frozen?"

"Exactly!"

"Counselor, I'm not enjoying these outbursts from your client," Judge Maestro cautions.

Again, Kate's lawyer sharply signals for Kate's silence.

Judge Maestro continues.

"Once we receive an accurate and complete record of Doctor Nixon's holdings, this court will provide guidelines for what is allowed and what is prohibited as far as financial transactions."

Kate audibly whimpers.

"Judge Maestro, I repeat, my client has no priors!"

Behind her massive bench, Judge Maestro inches forward with a scowl of indignation now etched across her face.

"And the fact that Doctor Nixon has no priors is why she's being allowed to resume her life as she awaits trial, Counselor! There is no reason for hysterics as it's hardly a permanent sentence she's currently being handed down! If she is proven innocent by a jury of her peers, she will be returned all her worldly possessions! Finally, Doctor Nixon's passport will also accompany the financial record, to be returned after the trial if your client is found innocent. For now, Doctor Nixon, you will not leave this state without this court's knowledge and permission. Is that understood?"

Eyes narrowed into slits, Kate nods once. "Yes, your honor."

"Good. Next!" When Judge Maestro pounds her gavel, her adjudication becomes law.

My gaze sweeps over to Counselor Cope, who looks down, lips pressed into a tight line. She's trying hard to suppress a triumphant grin. However, I'm much less mollified. A staggeringly high bail has been set, yes; Kate's freedom to come and go as well as to spend between now and the trial has been massively curtailed…but she's alive. Bella's parents, Charles and Renee Swan can't say the same. And Bella…Bella lives with a never-ending nightmare, one she can't even alleviate through tears.

"Dear God, that was horrific."

With a deep, internal breath, I nod in shared acknowledgment of Garrett's whispered words if not in shared dismay. My dismay arises from the fact that Kate was granted bail at all. Cope had warned us back at FBI Headquarters not to get our hopes up that the judge would deny either of them bail this morning, but I'd still hoped. Though none of us really believe she'll try to skip the country, Cope was right that Kate has enough to make bail and then some.

But apparently, Garrett is out of the loop regarding his girlfriend's true financial worth, just as he's been out of the loop about her extra-curricular activities. Recalling that one of those extra-curricular activities once involved me, I cringe, once again bombarded by waves of guilt, self-loathing, and self-revulsion. And once again, Garrett pats my shoulder, misconstruing the reason for my reaction.

"Don't worry, Tony. At least the judge seems willing to grant bail. That bodes well regarding her sense of fairness. Don't you think?"

Again, I merely nod, while Kate hastily and unsteadily reclaims her seat on the defense side. Immediately, Garrett releases my shoulder and wraps his hand tenderly and discreetly around Kate's nape. With her seated this close, the bitter repugnance toward her multiplies to the point where I can barely see straight, much less look at her.

"Thank God that's done," Garrett murmurs. "Are you okay, my love?"

"This is such a damn nightmare," she hisses. "Now, I've got to lay out five fucking million dollars, all my assets are frozen, I can't leave the country, and why? Because some stupid little bitch-"

Garrett cuts her off. "Shh. Remember what the lawyers said, my love; you've got to watch everything you say from now on in case it's misconstrued. Katie, it'll be okay. You'll see. You've got the law on your side. You know you're innocent," he whispers fervently, nodding with equal vehemence, "and once the lawyers prove it at the trial, you'll get your assets and your passport returned."

"Yes. Yes, you're right."

In his blind zeal, I'm sure Garrett fails to notice how it takes Kate a fraction of a second too long to reply. However, the effort it takes to keep my clenched fists to myself forces me to dig them painfully against my own thighs instead.

Meanwhile, Kate turns away from Garrett and briskly changes the subject.

"Anthony, we tried getting in touch with you, but the lawyers were told you had some issues with a couple of the federal agents and were being held separately?"

With the direct question, and with less than two feet of space separating us, I have no choice but to look at her. But first, I've got to mitigate the fury roiling in me because I can't afford any suspicions. With a deep, internal breath, I turn toward her.

Kate gasps at the close-up of my bruised face. Her hand goes up in the air, its trajectory clearly my cheek, and for a moment, I find myself mystified by how stupidly reckless she can be. Then, I recall why we're here, what she did, and I realize that this is just her personality – sneaky yet reckless – on full display.

In the next moment, she seems to catch herself. She clamps her hand over her mouth instead. Throughout it all, in my periphery, I observe no reaction, no suspicion from Garrett. His trust in her is sadly fathomless.

"There was an altercation," I reply coolly.

"Those monsters," she spits through clenched teeth. "I hope you plan to-"

The bailiff calls for James Penn to stand, providing me with an excuse to turn away from Kate.

"We'll talk later," she whispers close to my ear and then pats my hand, clandestinely caressing it with her thumb before she pulls away. Revulsion turns my stomach.

Buttoning his crisp, three-piece suit, James stands, and Judge Maestro proceeds to read out almost the same charges she did for Kate. However, James manages to keep his features composed and utters not a word of contradiction, not a sound of panic or fear, not even a whimper when his bail is set at seventy-million-dollars, twenty-million-dollars higher than Kate's. He'll have to shell out an extra couple million than she will. The rest of the bail requirements are the same as those for Kate. As they're decreed, James stands there calmly. When the judge asks him, as she did with Kate, whether he understands the restrictions of his bail, he replies in an even, stable tone.

"Yes, your honor. Thank you."

Then, he walks back to his seat at a controlled, steady pace, his blue eyes meeting mine as the judge calls my name.

While the judge knows I'm a federal agent, the undercover charade must be carried out to its fullest. At this point, my remaining undercover has more to do with keeping Bella safely out of James' clutches than with gathering any new evidence related to their current charges. It's a fine line I've got to walk now to ensure I don't provide the defense an opportunity to claim Criminal Entrapment in the future.

With my attorney at my side, Judge Maestro charges me for lesser crimes because I'd 'just recently been recruited into their criminal activities.' She sets my bail lower but with the same instructions as the others. Finally, once we've all been arraigned and the court has adjourned, James, Kate, and Garrett approach me, and we form a tight circle.

"Tony, I've been trying to get in touch with you since the arrests."

"I had some trouble with the arresting agents."

"Yeah," he nods, "so I heard, and so I see. I hope you fucking gave as good as you seem to have gotten."

All my bruises are courtesy of Bella and of Jake, and while I fought Jake back, unlike him, I'd rather die than ever hurt Bella.

"One of them got it good, while the other…" I shake my head, locking my jaw and reliving all Bella's bruises.

James' misconstrues my misery. "Those assholes. I've gotta be honest, Tony, I was worried. I had our team of lawyers set to represent you, but then they were informed your dad sent his personal lawyer."

"Yeah. Randall's been our family attorney for years. My father trusts him implicitly."

"All right. Okay then. If you feel comfortable with him… Look, have you seen or heard from Alec?"

When I shake my head, he draws in a deep breath, hissing.

"That motherfucker. Between him likely turning state's evidence and that traitorous bitch's testimony…" he bites out, while my fists twitch at my sides.

"James," his lawyer whispers from just outside of our circle and shakes his head.

Again, James sighs. "Look, we'll talk later, once we've all made bail." When he leans into my ear, he drops his voice to the lowest whisper. "We've got to be careful now, okay? Don't even jaywalk, Tony." As he pulls back, his eyes hold mine.

Though I know I have to proceed cautiously here because James' paranoia must be on overload, it takes me a few seconds to reply.

"Got it," I murmur.

He pats my shoulder and continues at a normal volume. "We'll talk back at the office once we're all out, but don't worry, Tony. All the D.A. has is testimony based on lies, while we've got justice on our side and great lawyers working for us."

He's already putting on a show.

"Yeah. Yeah, you're right, James."

"I know I am. Just put your faith in me, Tone, and we'll be fine."

Yeah, James' facade is definitely going to be harder to crack than Kate's.

OOOOO

After secreting myself out of court via an undisclosed side-exit, I rush back to FBI Headquarters, which is just a couple of blocks away. My feet hit the cement streets, with my heart matching every pounding step that brings me closer to the building…to her. I'll have to meet up with James later to make sure I keep him appeased, and I'll have to prepare myself mentally for that. But right now, only the prospect of a different – and likely final – meeting can hold my attention.

By now, Bella has provided her entire statement. She and Jake have handed over all the information required and related to the funds in the Cayman accounts. She's fulfilled her end of the bargain, met all the requisites toward obtaining immunity and witness security for herself, even though she never asked for it, as well as the immunity and witness security she demanded for Jacob. For all I know, the U.S. Marshal's representative has already whisked her away to her safe house. For all I know, I won't catch sight of her again until James and Kate's case goes to trial. After that, she'll be provided with a new identity and with a new life somewhere far away…and I'll never see her again.

But, if I'm lucky, if God or Providence or Billy Black's god of war…or even if Renee Swan's river goddess of love has granted me one unmerited favor, then Bella is still in the building. The next few moments will be my last moments with her, yes, potentially all I'll have, and while the possibility of that makes the reality of what the next few months hold for me seem almost unbearable, it's better this way. She's better off this way, and that's all that matters. As much as it kills me, I won't insult her with an apology that'll always be insufficient for all the ways I've wronged her, both knowingly and unwittingly. An apology would be more for my benefit than for hers – to ease my guilt – and I won't put her through that. No apology in the world can ease her pain or return to her what she's lost. No, I simply want to…to see her, to set my eyes on her one final time without the chaos of a courtroom meeting.

Even as I walk into Whitlock's office to find out where Bella is, hoping for those last few, undeserved moments, I'm convincing myself of all the reasons why I shouldn't fall to my knees and beg her forgiveness for all the ways I've harmed her. Maybe if I do…maybe…

Jasper is on his phone, facing his large windows that look out onto downtown Manhattan's silver skyline, the drab morning making the entire scenery one of gray monotone. Vague city sounds seep in through the windows and walls – the wind blowing in between the surrounding buildings, an ambulance's siren whirring nearby, impatient motorists honking their horns.

Emmett and Rose sit across from Jasper's desk. As soon as they see me enter, both eye me with anxiety and apprehension – placing me immediately on alert. Meanwhile, Whitlock seethes into his phone, apparently too furious to realize I've walked in.

"Excuse my language, Director, but this is total bull! She was promised a safe house as soon as she provided all the information, and she provided- no, sir, she's most certainly not in a safe house; she's locked in a room at FBI Headquarters." He pauses to listen. "No, sir, it's not the same thing! A holding room is for criminals, for interrogations, for- no sir, she's not a criminal!" He grips his hair with his free hand. "We promised to provide her with immunity in exchange for her testimony, which means she's an ally now, not a- Sir, she's hurt. She needs a place where she can recover from her injuries; she was promised a place where she'd be-" Whitlock growls and bangs the window with an open palm. "Then call back the U.S. Marshal's office and tell them we do need her safe house right away! She doesn't deserve to spend another night here! Agent Brandon doesn't deserve to lose the trust she's worked hard to build, and Agent Cullen doesn't deserve to have the witness he's worked so hard for-" Another pause. "Very well, how long will that take?" He exhales angrily. "Then, with all due respect, sir, please get on expediting that!"

Jasper holds the phone away from his face and furiously digs his finger into the 'End' button. "Motherfucking, son-of-a-" When he turns to fling the phone over his desk and sees me standing there, he jerks back, startled eyes widening.

"Shit. Cullen."

"What the hell was that about?"

He sighs. "Sit down, Cullen."

"I'd rather stand, and you know what?" I spit through clenched teeth. "That was a rhetorical question. Don't waste time with long, drawn-out explanations. I got the gist of this latest fuckery."

"Cullen-"

"No!" I roar. "This is bullshit! He expects her to remain in a cold, sterile, and purposely uncomfortable holding room until when exactly?"

"He's going to call the U.S. Marshal's Office WitSec rep and get him working-"

"He was already supposed to have worked on it! Bella and Jacob provided them with everything they required, correct?"

"That's correct," Emmett replies.

"And they're all fucking over the moon with the information, correct?"

"Correct," Jasper replies.

"Then, WHAT THE HELL?"

"Edward, calm down."

"Rosalie, don't even speak to me," I say without looking at her.

"Edward, I admit this whole thing has been done ass-backward, and I apologize," Jasper says sincerely, placing a hand on his chest.

"I don't want your apology, Jasper! That'll get Bella nowhere!"

"Nevertheless, I'll provide it because I've had no experience with this kind of situation either. Now, I've asked Haywood to expedite things as much as possible, but-"

"Jasper, I'm not leaving this in his hands; not anymore. There's no fucking way Bella is spending another night here in a holding room while those other assholes," I hiss, pointing sharply at the courthouse visible through Whitlock's window, "are about to go free on bail after what they've done. They're going to eat nice meals and sleep comfortably in their own beds tonight. Meanwhile, Bella is injured, and as tough as she is, I know she's afraid, and I know she feels…like she's all alone." My voice quivers. Clearing my throat, I continue. "Jasper, she needs a place where she can take a deep breath again."

When he replies, Whitlock's tone is infused with sympathy. "I agree, Edward, but I'm not sure she has another option at this point but to wait."

"Of course, she does," I say.

Emmett chuckles, instantly understanding my meaning. So does, Rosalie, apparently, who snorts and drops her head, shaking it from side to side but smartly says nothing. Meanwhile, Whitlock frowns. He walks around to the front of his desk, sits on the edge, and throws his hands up before crossing them against his chest.

"Well, if you think you've got a solution, I'm all ears because yeah, this is total bullshit."

I had a solution, for better or for worse, the second I realized Bella didn't have a safe house.

"She has a safe place, somewhere she'll only be harmed over my dead body."

"Where is that?"

"My place."

The room is as silent as a monastery; traffic appears to come to a standstill, and even the wind outside ceases howling.

"Haywood might not be happy with that."

"I don't give a fuck. The only part that concerns me is convincing Bella that she'll be safe with me – for the time being."

Again, Emmett chuckles. "Why do you think I was just laughing? Good luck with that, buddy. And watch your balls this time."

"Yeah." I draw in a deep breath and release it slowly. "I'm going to need luck."

A/N: Thoughts?

We'll be in Bella's head next chapter. ;)

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