******A/N****

Hi everyone! Here's another chapter to start your weekend! It's a little longer than usual. Hope you like getting into Edward's head a bit.

I hope you're enjoying the story so far. I'm having a lot of fun writing it. Still don't have a set posting schedule. I'm just kind of winging it.

Let's see how Edward's feeling about things...

S. Meyer owns all things Twilight.

Chapter 22-Exhaustion

EPOV

I was exhausted when I left the hospital. Physically and mentally. Usually when I work a case, I'm completely wired and energized, but not this one. I wasn't feeling the same high I usually got, and I wasn't sure what made this case different. Maybe because I witnessed the assault with my own eyes, and felt a little more invested in the outcome, I'm not sure, but Dolan getting away scot free, did not sit well with me, not at all.

After interviewing Miss Swan, it was clear she realized our chances of nailing him were pretty slim, for now anyway. This realization was disheartening to her, but to me it was more than just disheartening, it was unacceptable.

The criminals involved in the cases I work, are usually the lowest of the low. The types who need to be taken off the streets, and put away for a long time. I've seen some scary shit over the years, and I savor every victory when I hear a judge read a guilty verdict, and slam down their gavel.

With this case though, I didn't just want to lock him up, I wanted to kill him. Every time I looked at her face and saw the evidence of his hands on her, I would feel the fury rising up within me. When she misunderstood me, and thought he raped her, I almost needed to leave the room. Yeah, this was different, I wanted him to suffer.

Believe me, I had no doubt he'd fuck up. Sooner or later he would, but that knowledge didn't stop me from feeling frustrated. Frustrated because I couldn't do anything about it now. I remembered barging into the Captains office at the station, and fuming as I paced in front of his desk.

"Let me go after him Cap. Emmett and I can find him and bring him back. Give us a week, that's all we need."

He looked at me like I was insane, while he lit a cigarette.

"Are you serious Cullen? What the fuck are you talking about? I'm not about to send two of my best detectives outside jurisdiction to look for some junkie who stole a purse. Have you lost your fucking mind? When he does it again, wherever he is, he'll get busted and we'll haul him in. He'll probably be back on the street in six months. You know how this works."

I glared at him in frustration, knowing there was no legitimate argument I could make without giving away how completely obsessed I was.

When I saw her for the first time after she woke up, I stood in the doorway and watched as she cried in Esme's arms. I watched as she shook her head 'no' when Esme asked if she remembered anything from that night. So when she noticed me by the door, all I could do was stare, wondering if she would recognize me from the alley, or from the Post Office earlier that day.

For a brief moment, when I introduced myself, I thought I saw a flicker of recognition in her eyes, but then it was gone. That's when I saw how terrified she really was. In that moment, I knew I wasn't going to question her immediately. She wouldn't have made it through the interview.

All in all, I was satisfied with the information she was able to give us during questioning the next day. I'd been through this before, and more details might come to her in the coming days and weeks, maybe she'd even be able to identify him at some point.

We checked out Cindy from the cafe, and confirmed she was working Friday night. She also confirmed she saw Miss Swan leave around eight o'clock, and didn't recall seeing her with a man.

I noticed Miss Swan looked surprised when I mentioned the name Charlie, but she didn't remember giving me his name when she clung to me that night. Turned out, Charlie's her father.

In the interview she said he 'wasn't around' and I didn't press her for an explanation. Maybe he lived in another state, or maybe they just weren't close, but I did get the sense she was holding something back about him. I knew from Esme, her mother was dead, maybe Charlie was too and she didn't want to talk about it.

So yeah, after today, I was exhausted.

I pulled into the garage and killed the engine. I wanted to get inside, have a drink, and fall into bed.

I lived in a three story Brownstone in Lincoln Park. In truth, I didn't really need all this space, but I did like it here. When Alice and I turned twenty-one, we both received our Trust Funds from our parents Estate and Carlisle and Esme set up a meeting with the attorneys to discuss how we would use the money. We both decided to invest most of it, and let it grow. About three years ago, Alice used some of her money to buy the boutique. I bought the Brownstone.

It had three bedrooms, two and a half baths, a large living room with exposed brick walls, high ceilings, and nice views of the city. The gourmet kitchen came complete with sub zero refrigerator and viking stove. Unfortunately, the kitchen didn't get much use since I was always working. Most nights I ended up grabbing take out, but it was perfect when I had the guys over for poker night or Alice and Jasper or Rose and Emmett over for dinner . There was also a rooftop deck , which provided a birds eye view of the city, and the adjoining Lincoln Park.

I threw my keys on the counter, and went over to the liquor cabinet to pull out a bottle of Glenfiddich. I grabbed a glass, and poured myself two fingers, and then added one more for good measure.

I dropped my ass on the couch, and rested my head against the back, as I brought the glass to my lips and closed my eyes. The liquid felt warm going down and I immediately felt myself start to unwind.

I sat there for a few minutes, sipping my scotch, and trying to decompress. After I felt a little more relaxed from the alcohol, I opened my eyes, and reached into my pocket to check my phone.

What the hell?

I had five text messages and six missed calls. There were three voice mails.

I didn't recognize any of the numbers, well, except Tanya's.

I ran a hand through my hair as I leaned forward on the couch. I rested my arms on my knees and held the phone in both hands as I stared at the screen.

Tanya. I needed to address that and I'd been putting it off.

I sat and stared at her message, and all I felt was annoyed.

"Dinner this weekend? I'll cook. Call me."

I let out a sigh, not wanting to deal with it.

Tanya was a prosecutor for the DA's office. She was what you might call a 'bulldog' in the courtroom. Let me rephrase that, Tanya was a bulldog in everything in life, not just the courtroom.

She had a confidence level that was off the charts, and took what she wanted, in and out of the legal arena. At six feet tall, she was almost amazonian, and her physique was toned and muscular from her time spent at the gym. Her workouts, like everything else in her life, were intense. She had long, straight, black hair, and steel blue eyes that always seemed to look straight through you.

We met in passing a few times over the years working on different cases. In my line of work, you eventually get to know everyone. Judges, DA's, attorney's, you name it, we all played in the same sandbox.

I knew her mostly by reputation. She was aggressive, and won most of her cases, and had a hard time letting go of the ones she didn't. About a year ago, I was assigned to a case she was prosecuting, and we got to know each other better. It started out innocently enough. We'd get together to go over aspects of the case, usually at a nearby restaurant, or once in awhile at her place.

One night, we were sitting on the living room floor in her apartment, the case notes spread out between us. I threw my suit jacket over the sofa, and loosened my tie, as we dug into the specifics.

After we spent about two hours pouring over the paperwork, she leaned back against the ottoman with a groan, and stretched her arms over her head.

"Cullen, I'm fried. I've had enough for tonight. Wanna glass of wine?"

I stretched my arms as well, realizing I was spent too. A glass of wine sounded good.

"Sure." I said.

She went into the kitchen, and I could hear her opening the bottle, and pouring the wine into glasses.

I was at a crossroads in that moment. We had been working together a lot, and I would've been a liar if I said I didn't think she was attractive, but I also didn't like to mix business with pleasure, or as Emmett liked to put it,

"Don't shit where ya eat, dude."

With that being said, it had been awhile since I'd been with a woman, and she was certainly giving off signals she wanted more than just a working relationship.

When she came back with the wine, and handed me my glass, her fingers lingered on mine as I took it from her grasp. I looked up, and she met my gaze head on, with one eyebrow raised. That was invitation enough for me. I took the initiative, and reached up to pull her face down to meet mine, and kissed her.

"It's about fucking time, Cullen."She said, as she sank down into my arms.

The good thing about Tanya was, she wasn't looking for any kind of commitment. We were both on the same page. I scratched an itch for her, and she did the same for me. We had sex maybe twice a month. Sometimes I'd stay for dinner, or we'd go grab coffee, if we were both at the courthouse. It was the perfect arrangement.

Not long after, I started noticing things about her I wasn't quite comfortable with. It was the little things. The way she treated wait staff for example, or the stenographers or baliffs. The way she always had to be the smartest one in the room.

What I once saw as self confidence, I now saw for what it really was, arrogance combined with a major superiority complex, and a touch of cruelty thrown in for good measure. I think she got off on it. It wasn't a flattering look.

When we ordered coffee one day, and she yelled at the girl behind the counter, almost making her cry, I knew I had to end it.

I told her I was going to be really busy with a new case I was working, and wouldn't be able to get together anymore. I figured it wouldn't be a big deal. I knew for a fact she had more than enough male admirers to choose from to scratch her itch, and that, my friends, is why I always wear a condom.

She looked at me with an expressionless face, and didn't say anything for awhile. I was just starting to feel uncomfortable, when her face morphed, and she put on a wide smile. "That's fine, Cullen. When you're ready for more, you just let me know. I'll be waiting." She turned from me, and I watched her walk down the hallway of the courthouse, briefcase in one hand, and coffee in the other.

Yeah, no. That wouldn't be happening. Now that I saw her for who she really was, I was regretting getting involved with her at all. I'm not really sure what I saw in her in the first place, aside from the obvious. Emmett was right, don't shit where you eat.

Every few months she reaches out, and I keep declining politely. It looks like I'm going to have to be a little more forceful with my delivery.

I wasn't up to tackling that tonight though, so I closed the text, and moved on to the others.

The next message was from a number I didn't recognize, and it was for Miss Swan.

"Oh my God, Bella! I was so worried when I didn't hear from you all weekend. Thanks for reaching out. I'm sorry about your phone. That sucks. Call me as soon as you get your new one. I've got some great celebrity sightings for you. Love you!"

I took another sip of scotch and scrolled back to read the original text from Miss Swan.

"Hey Ang. It's Bella. Sorry I haven't been in touch. Lost my phone over the weekend. Someone loaned me theirs so I could reach out to you until I get a replacement. Didn't want you to worry. Call you soon. Love you!"

She didn't tell this 'Ang' about the assault. Maybe they weren't that close. But would you end your message with ' Love You' if you weren't close? I went to the next one. The next two, in fact, were from the same number.

"What the hell Bella? I don't hear from you for over a week and you text me? Really? A text? What do you mean you lost your phone? Was it stolen? I told you it wasn't safe out there. You need to call me."

Could this be her father, Charlie? It kind of sounded like something a father would say.

I scrolled back to her original text, a copy and paste of the one to the 'Ang' person, but this one was to someone named Jake.

Ok, so, not the father.

I looked at the second text Jake sent.

"You need to fucking call me Bella. I'm not playing around. I will get on a plane and come get your ass."

The fuck?

I felt my grip tighten around the phone as my anger started to build. Who the fuck was speaking to her like that?

Third text from Jake,

"Bella, I'm sorry. I'm sorry if I sounded like a jerk, I'm just worried. Please call me as soon as you can. I love you."

Boyfriend?

I drained the glass, and looked back at the screen with a frown. Probably boyfriend.

It's none of your business.

But if it was a boyfriend, why wouldn't she have told him what happened? Why wasn't he here with her?

So, maybe not a boyfriend. Brother? I didn't remember Esme mentioning a brother, but that didn't mean one didn't exist.

I went into voice mail and listened to the first one. It was from the Jake person.

"Um, yeah, hi. This is Jacob Black. I'm looking for Bella. She texted me from this number. Can you tell her to call me right away. Thanks."

Second message thirty minutes later,

"Yeah, uh, this is Jacob Black again, I need you to have Bella call me. She needs to call me as soon as possible. Yeah, Thanks."

Last message twenty minutes later,

"This is Jacob Black, I'm not sure what's going on or what Bella's doing, but she needs to call me. I'm going to be coming out there if I don't hear from her."

Ok, this guy had a serious problem and I thought he needed someone to fix it for him. I thought it should be me. What started out as annoyance at his controlling tone, turned intofull blown anger by the time I listened to the last voice mail.

Who the fuck did he think he was threatening my girl like that?

Hold up. Your girl? This is the second time you've called her that.

I sat there holding the empty glass, staring at the phone. Was I drunk? I didn't think so, but the overwhelming surge of possessiveness I felt was undeniable. She was mine. It made no sense, and made me feel like a complete neanderthal, but there it was.

I turned off the phone, and stood up from the couch. I would deal with all of this in the morning. I needed to go to bed. I shut off the lights and made my way upstairs. I barely got my shoes and pants off before I fell face first onto the bed in my boxers and shirt, and before I knew it, I was snoring.

****A/N****

I know, I know. It sucks he slept with Tanya, but that was before he knew our Bella. And I couldn't have him be a 32 year old virgin could I?

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See you soon!