Thank you so much IamTheAlleyCat for beta'ing and Ncsupnatfan for pre-reading. Thank you all for reading and reviewing xxx


Chapter Fourteen

Bella

I had just gotten back from the gym and was barely through my front door when my phone rang. I toed off my sneakers as I answered, "Hello."

"Bella, it's Edward," a formal voice replied.

I smiled. Despite things going better between us lately, he was still a little stiff at first, whether it be in person or on the phone. I wished he would just relax and let go of his nerves. I wasn't angry anymore. I wanted my friend to act like a friend.

"Hello, Edward," I replied just as formally. "What can I do for you today?"

He hesitated. "I… Uh."

"I'm screwing with you, Edward," I said. "What's up?"

"Oh."

I could imagine his bemused smile. I never used to tease him like this. I was always too enraptured in the love we shared and concerned that he would realize I wasn't right for him after all and he'd leave, which he had eventually, of course. I figured a little teasing now was in order.

"Alice says there is going to be a storm this evening. We were wondering if you'd like to join us for a game of baseball?"

"I'd love to," I said. "I'll be catcher, yeah?"

"I don't think…" he started.

"Just screwing with you again," I said. "I'd love to come cheer for you guys. What time?"

"When is best for you?" he asked.

"Well, I've got to work the late shift so my buddy can see his kid's game, so I'll be free after eight. Shall I come by your place when I'm done, and we can go from there?"

"That sounds perfect," he said. "I will see you then."

"See ya." I set the phone back in its cradle and smiled.

Watching a vampire baseball game would be fun. I only did it the one time with Edward; after the nomads attacked, he seemed to take it as a bad omen, and I was never invited along again. I was pleased he'd gotten over that now.

I shrugged off my jacket and hung it on the hook then made my way upstairs to the bathroom. I set the shower running to warm and went into the bedroom to my closet to pack some clothes to change into after work for the game.

I guessed running with one of the Cullens was going to be a part of the evening, even if the storm wasn't over us, so I needed to be warm. I found my old academy sweatshirt and a pair of jeans and stuffed them into a backpack. With a coat and tank, I should be warm enough. I went back into the bathroom and stripped down, dropping my dirty gym clothes into the hamper, then stepped into the shower under the warm spray.

It didn't take me long to soap down and wash my hair, but I lingered under the hot spray awhile to ease the tight knots in my neck out with the heat.

It had been a good workout that finished on a sour note when the chief called. Max Brier was out of the rehab clinic at last, and he'd been bailed. Apparently, his injury had been more debilitating than they'd expected, and he was seen as no danger to the public now with a mostly useless arm.

I didn't feel an ounce of guilt for what I had done to him; he'd been threatening the public, and my job was to protect. I was pissed, though, that he was back on the streets, as he was a menace.

Part of my anger stemmed from the fact that, if I were to come across him in the line of duty, I had to treat him the same as I would anyone else—take his crap, essentially. And that was going to be bad as, even before I had shot him, he had been vocal against cops in general and me in particular. Sometimes the justice system sucked.

Sighing, I stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around myself. As tempting as it was to stay in there forever, I had a job to do.


The radio crackled, and the dispatcher's voice came through the speaker. "Unit Fifteen, respond."

I picked up the handset and clicking down the button said, "This is Unit Fifteen. Go ahead."

"Reported civil disturbance at the Brew and Cue. Suspect refusing to leave."

I sighed. That usually meant Will Baxter, known as Crazy Will to the locals, was out of cash and making a nuisance of himself. He was a nice man that had been in the military most of his life. He'd come out with a small pension and a large amount of mental trauma, which he dulled with alcohol when he could afford it or find someone to provide it for him when he couldn't.

"Report as responding," I said.

"Copy, Unit Fifteen."

The radio crackled once more and fell silent. I set the handset back in place and pulled away from the road. There was no emergency, just a strain on Ray's—the bartender's—nerves, so I left the lights and sirens off as I drove through town toward the bar.

As I turned a corner, I noticed a car with dark tinted windows in my rear-view mirror that I recognized. Wondering why Carlisle was following me, I carried on, thinking he would tell me when I was free to talk.

When I reached the bar, I saw that the situation was a little more complicated than reported. Will was standing outside the bar, slapping his hands on the rippled glass window and shouting. I pulled up and climbed out, putting on my hat as I did and made my way over to Will, calling out his name.

He turned at the sound of my voice, and I saw his craggy face twisted with despair. "Bella," he moaned. "I'm all out."

"I'm sorry, Will," I said. "But you can't stay here, and you can't make a nuisance of yourself like this."

He raked a shaking hand over his face. "I just need a drink."

I felt a wave of pity for the man that had once been a senior military officer protecting the country. I had been to his home a couple times when I'd delivered him there instead of throwing him in the drunk tank to sleep it off, and I'd seen his military medals and photographs of him in uniform. He had once been young and proud, and it was sad how his life had come to this.

"I can't get you a drink, but I can get you home," I said, stepping closer and smelling the reek of alcohol coming from him.

He shook his head dolefully. "I don't want to go home."

"Well, you can't stay here doing this," I said reasonably.

At that moment, Ray came out of the bar and looked from me to Will. "Hey, Bella," he said. "Sorry to have to call you again, but he was getting ready to trash the place before I got him out."

I closed my eyes a moment, disappointed. This could end badly for Will.

"Did he do any damage?" I asked.

"Just a couple knocked over chairs and some broken glasses," he said. "Look, I don't want to make trouble. Maybe he just slipped. If you can just get him out of here…"

"Absolutely," I said gratefully. "Thank you, Ray. Will…" I promoted, hoping he wasn't too loaded to see what he was being offered.

"One more drink?" Will asked hopefully.

I shook my head. "Home. I'll even give you a ride."

He sighed heavily. "Okay. Home."

I opened the back door of the car, and Will folded himself heavily into the seat. I closed the door and turned back to Ray. "Thank you," I said again. "When he's sober, he'll appreciate this."

"You think?" he asked with a quirked brow.

I nodded, though I, too, was a little doubtful.

"Okay," he said. "Will I be seeing you later?"

"Not tonight," I said happily as I opened my door and slid into my seat. "I have plans."

He waved a hand in a lazy farewell, and I pulled away from the curb.

A loud snore from the back seat told me Will had crashed. I smiled sadly at him in the rear-view mirror. His life had been—and still was—a hard one, and being able to use discretion to deal with him was a good feeling.

As I turned back to the road, I saw Carlisle's car behind me again. Frowning, I muttered, "Little weird," knowing whoever was driving would hear me. In response, the car slowed and pulled back as I carried on along the street. I had a feeling I was mistaken in thinking Carlisle was the one driving. It had to be another Cullen, and only one of them had a history of hanging around me when I was unaware of it—namely sleeping.

When I reached Will's, I woke him gently. "You're home."

He blinked at me blearily. "Already?"

"Already," I said. I climbed out and opened the back door so he could get out.

He stumbled and weaved his way up the sidewalk, turning back at the door. "You coming in for coffee?"

"Maybe next time," I said. "There's something I've got to do." I had spotted the hood of a black Mercedes that had parked in the corner.

I watched as he let himself into the house and saw the door close behind him, and then I leaned against the hood of my car and said, "Come on out, then. Hide and seek time is over."

The Mercedes slowly moved along the street and then pulled up behind me. The door opened and Emmett climbed out.

I frowned at him. "Gotta say, you weren't who I was expecting to be stalking me," I said, as he came toward me, grinning.

"You thought, Edward, right?"

"He has form," I said.

He laughed. "True. How did you know I was there?"

"I'm a cop, Em, and I have eyes. You weren't exactly stealthy. Why are you following me, anyway?"

"I wanted to see what you do," he said, flashing me a dimpled smile. "I mean, you're a cop, Bella. That's so many kinds of cool."

I laughed. "What do you think so far, then?"

"I think you were kind," he said seriously, gesturing to the house.

"He's a good man. He got dealt a rough hand in life, and this is how he copes. Who am I to punish him for that?"

"I think you're a good woman," he said.

I smiled. "Thanks, Em, I appreciate—" I cut off as the radio crackled and came to life. "All units. Robbery in progress at Mark's Mini-Mart."

"Not again!" I gasped. I threw myself into the car, grabbing up the radio as I turned the key in the ignition. "Unit Fifteen responding. I am attending. Three minutes out."

I gunned the engine to life and sped away from the curb with lights flashing and sirens wailing. I saw Emmett on my tail, and I spoke aloud, "If you're seen here, Em, you'll be a witness. A court witness. There will be press."

In response, he flashed his headlights. I hoped that meant he understood and agreed that it wasn't worth the risk, but he didn't pull back. He stayed on my tail. It was his mistake to make. I had other concerns.

I skidded to a stop in front of the Mini-Mart. From the outside things looked calm, and there were no other patrol cars there, so I guessed I was first to respond. I reached for my gun and made for the entrance when I heard two things. From one direction Emmett called, "Bella!" and from another, a voice filled with malice snarled, "Swan!"

At the same moment I turned toward the second voice, I heard a crack and felt a hammer blow to my chest. I was thrown back, and someone was shouting my name, but it came from a great distance. I had a moment's clarity before the darkness descended and one word rose to my lips, "Edward."


Edward

"Play that again, Edward," Esme said.

My fingers moved to hover over the keys, and then I started to play the piece I was halfway through composing. Like the lullaby, it was inspired by Bella, though this time it was different. Her lullaby had been melancholic and about yearning. This was about love and hope. It was the sort of music you could dance to, though only slowly: a song to sway with your lover to.

"That part right there," Alice said, flitting down the stairs to stand at my side. "It's a beat too slow. You're making it sad again."

It was hard not to be sad when making a song you could never explain the meaning of to the one you wished to more than anything, the one you wished you could dance with.

I started again, increasing the tempo ever so slightly.

"That's better," she said. "It's—"

She broke off, and I turned to her. Her name was on my lips when the vision swept through her mind and mine by proxy of my gift. The backdrop was the side of a convenience store in town I had seen a few times. There was a man checking the magazine of a handgun. He clicked it back in place and smiled as the sound of sirens approached. His face was intermittently lit with blue light from a patrol car.

"Bella!" I gasped, knowing it had to be her I was going to see.

The vision pulled back, and I saw Bella reaching for her gun as she made for the entrance, then two voices spoke out, one I recognized as Emmett and the other a man's I had heard only once in a memory calling for morphine. There was the crack of a gun, and Bella was thrown back. Her lips moved, forming a word I couldn't hear. I dragged my mind from Alice's and ran.

I barely heard Esme's exclamations or questions; I was consumed by the horror of what I had just seen. I grabbed my car keys from the table and raced for the door, yanking it open so hard it hit the wall and left a divot in the plaster. My car was parked at the side of the house, and I threw myself in behind the wheel and brought the engine roaring to life. Alice called after me, but I ignored her in favor of flying out of the spot and to the track that led to the highway.

The only thought in my mind was that I had to get to Bella and save her. The fact I had seen the spot the bullet hit and knew what it meant didn't break my certainty. I just had to get there. She would be fine if I was there.

The traffic was reasonably busy as it was what counted for rush hour in the small town, but I weaved between them and made use of quieter side streets to reach my goal.

My phone rang when I was a few minutes from the store, and I pulled it from my pocket without checking the caller ID. "Yes?"

"She's alive," Emmett said. "I'm following the ambulance now. Carlisle knows we're coming. He's ready."

Ready to what? Save her life with medicine or to steal her away from the hospital and save her life with the change as he had me? I didn't care which. As long as she was alive in some form, I would be happy, souls be damned.

I redirected my path to the hospital instead of the store. I was speaking under my breath, a litany of pleas and bargaining for Bella's life. It took me a moment to realize it had become a prayer. I never prayed. I had known since the moment I was changed that God had forsaken me.

I skidded to a stop outside the hospital and threw myself out of the car. I made the walk across the parking lot at a fast pace, too fast to be completely human.

Edward! a voice scolded. Slow down!

I glanced up and saw Carlisle silhouetted against the doorway to the ER, under cover from the misting rain by the overhanging porch. At the sight of him, my anxiety peaked. Why was he out here and not inside, helping Bella, if not because it was already too late?

I faltered in my footsteps and stared into his eyes. "She's not…"

"They won't let me treat her," Carlisle said quickly and bitterly. "I know her too well. She is alive though."

"How?" I breathed moving closer to him. "How can she be?" I had seen where she was shot. She should be dead by now.

"She wore a vest," Carlisle said.

I breathed out a gusting sigh of relief. In my panic, I had forgotten the details of Bella's uniform, namely the bulletproof vest she wore when on duty.

"She perhaps has some other injuries, but she is not in danger," he said.

At that moment, the wail of sirens reached me, and I stepped under the overhang with Carlisle as patrol cars screeched into the lot. Police officers spilled out and ran towards us. For a moment, I thought there was something new happening at the hospital, but then I paid attention to their thoughts and saw the same face and name that was in my mind reflected back at me. They were here for Bella.

"Doc," an older looking man whose badge declared him at the chief said, addressing Carlisle. "Where is she?"

"Trauma bay five," Carlisle said. "Dr. Branting is her physician."

The police officers disappeared into the hospital, and I made to follow, but Carlisle caught my arm and held me back.

"What?" I growled.

"They are still treating her, Edward," he said. "You will not be allowed near her."

"But…" I pointed uselessly after the police officers that had entered.

"It's different for them."

How could it be different? How could the fact they were cops matter more than the fact she was my reason for being? I needed to see her. I needed to know for sure she was okay.

"Come to my office," Carlisle said, tugging my arm.

I followed him into the hospital and through the halls to his office, trying to make sense of the thoughts surrounding me as I went. I wanted to find Bella's doctor, but there were so many people thinking panicked thoughts of loved ones and doctors assessing illness and injury. It wasn't until Carlisle had pushed me into a seat in front of his desk that I found someone looking at Bella. It was one of the cops, the chief, and his thoughts were almost overwhelming with worry.

I nodded to Carlisle's explanation that he had to go back to work and closed my eyes to just listen.

Through the chief's eyes, I saw Bella lying still on a hospital bed, as a doctor threaded quick stitches through a wound on the back of her head where she must have hit as she fell. A doctor was speaking, explaining that they were going to take her for a scan and x-ray but that otherwise, she seemed fine, albeit still unconscious.

The chief's thoughts drifted to Charlie and how he was going to tell him he had almost lost Bella once again. He was weighing the cost of Bella's wrath if he told him and the wrath of Charlie if something happened to her and he hadn't known.

At that moment, Bella's eyes began to roll and then cracked open, revealing the rich brown irises I loved so much.

"Swan?" the chief said as the doctor suturing her up tied off his last stitch and moved to her line of sight.

"How do you feel?" the doctor asked.

"Edward?" she murmured, and my frozen heart seemed to leap in my chest. She had said my name. My name first.

The chief peered closer and said, "Swan? You okay?"

She blinked a few times and groaned. "Ow. Damn."

"Where does it hurt?" the doctor asked.

"Chest," Bella said.

"Yeah, getting shot hurts," the chief agreed.

Bella smiled slightly. "I didn't get shot. The vest did."

I growled. That she was making light of what had happened was both characteristic of her and infuriating. It was like she couldn't understand the absolute fear the people that cared for her had felt.

A nurse entered the room and whispered to the doctor who nodded. "We're going to get you down for a scan and x-ray now, Officer Swan."

Bella nodded. "Okay."

The chief's radio crackled, and I heard an urgent voice speak. "All units. Ten-Eighteen. Suspect armed and dangerous. Believed to be heading towards Columbia Memorial."

The chief's face paled, and he made for the door followed out by the other officers. I saw through the doctor's eyes as Bella watched them go, her eyes wide and the rhythm of her heart monitor increasing its pace.

I started towards the door, wishing to go to her and comfort, and then stopped abruptly as I heard a voice shouting outside the window. "Drop the gun, Brier! Put it down on the ground and step back!"

I moved to the window and saw the man I recognized from Alice's vision, the man that had shot Bella. His right hand was tucked in his pocket and, in his left hand, there was a handgun. He smiled cruelly as he began to raise it.

"Lower the gun, or I will shoot!" the officer warned.

The man, Max, continued to raise it. Then, he jerked as two gunshots cracked through the air, and he dropped, crimson now staining his dirty jacket and shirt in bloody blossoms.


Bella

I was alone in my small hospital room, lying on my back and staring up at the ceiling. My bruised ribs ached in a disconnected way, dulled by the painkillers currently seeping into my veins through the IV in the back of my hand. I was feeling mentally disconnected, too.

Somewhere in the hospital was the body of the man that had shot me, Max Briers, and I didn't know how to feel. He had shot to kill me, pulled a gun on one of my friends, and yet his life's ending seemed such a waste.

I sighed heavily and turned my head on the pillow to stare at the opposite wall. I knew when I joined the force that life and death were some of the things I would be forced to deal with, and I hadn't expected it to be easy, but there was no preparing for this—the knowledge that someone had tried to end my life and lost their own in return.

I was angry, too, at the justice system. He should never have been allowed bail. He had been dangerous; any idiot should have known that. If he had been behind bars, I would not have been shot, and he would not have been killed.

Max Brier wasn't the only thing on my mind, though, and that felt selfish and wrong. I couldn't help but think about Edward.

I thought I had made peace with my decision to not be with him, and yet, when I had lain there on the ground, certain I was dying, he had been what I wished for.

My last thought hadn't been of Charlie or Renee; it had been of Edward and how I had wasted my time these past weeks since his return to my life not being with him.

I didn't know what to do, though. I had been set on my path, and I was so scared of being hurt again.

Someone cleared their throat at the foot of my bed, and my head snapped up. I couldn't help the smile that curved my lips as I saw Edward and Carlisle standing there.

"Hey," I said.

Carlisle smiled, but Edward looked tense.

"How are you feeling?" Carlisle asked solicitously.

"I've been better," I said honestly.

Carlisle nodded. "I understand you have bruised ribs."

"Yeah, but nothing internal," I said. "I call that a good shooting."

Edward flinched, and I looked him in the eye. "I'm okay, Edward."

I tried to shift myself up a little on the bed, but Edward crossed the room in a flash and laid a hand on my shoulder. His cool touch sent a thrill through me, like the spark we had felt the very first time we touched.

"I'm sorry," he said, quickly pulling back his hand when I jerked and winched.

I caught his hand as it fell back to his side and squeezed it. "It's okay. You didn't hurt me." Not that time at least.

"I should be getting home," Carlisle said. "The family are all waiting for news."

"Say hi for me."

"I will," Carlisle said with a smile. He stepped around the bed and patted my hand. There was no spark at his touch. "Take care of yourself, Bella. Rest and recover."

"I plan to," I said fervently.

He looked pointedly at Edward, making me think there was some inaudible to me communication happening, and then slipped from the room.

I rested my head back against my pillows and said, "You can sit if you want. I know you don't need to, but it might look odd if someone comes in, and I have a statue as a visitor."

Edward pulled around a chair from beside the bed and sat down stiffly. His expression was strained. I rallied for something light to say.

"How are you?" I asked stupidly.

Edward raised haunted eyes to me. "I almost lost you today."

"You didn't, though," I said quickly. "I'm going to be fine. I have a couple bruised ribs is all."

"He could have killed you."

"He didn't."

Edward shook his head angrily. "Do you understand how scared I was?"

"Probably about as scared as I was," I said. "I thought I was dying and…"

"And what?" he asked.

"Nothing."

I couldn't get into what I had felt when I lay there, feeling like I was dying. I had to make sense of my thoughts and feelings before I told him that. I couldn't give him false hope. That would be cruel.

"I'm off work for a while, obviously," I redirected. "I'm thinking of going back to Forks. I don't think Charlie knows what happened yet, but it'll be public knowledge soon enough, and I need to see him."

"And Renee?" Edward asked.

I sighed. "She'll find out, too, eventually. I'll probably have to make a trip south to see her."

"She'll appreciate that." He drew a deep breath. "Bella, I was watching you when they were treating you. I saw you wake up. I heard what you said."

I heard the heart monitor beside me pick up its pace slightly. He had heard me say his name. "You did?"

"I would very much like to talk about it."

I bit my lip. If I was in his position, I would want to talk about it, too, but I needed a little time. I reached out and touched his hand where it lay on the bed side, inches from me.

"Can I have a little longer?" I asked. "I'm not trying to hurt you or be difficult, but I just need a little longer. Is that okay?"

"You can take forever, Bella," he said, intensity in his eyes.

"Thank you," I said gratefully, though I knew forever wasn't needed. I just needed a little longer, just a little time to make sense of my thoughts and feelings, and then I would either break his heart or make it whole all over again.

Just a little longer.


So… Bella got shot. How many of you were thinking that was going to end with her being changed? She needs a little more time, and I know that sucks for us, but we're so close to Edward and Bella now, so be patient a little longer.

Until next time…

Simaril xxx