21

The next morning, Bella once again found herself waking up alone, and once again, she scrambled out of bed and rushed downstairs, this time finding Charlie sitting on the couch next to Garrett, while Edward stood next to the door. Edward looked over at her, but didn't say anything as she stared at Garrett and Charlie. She wasn't sure why the sight of the two of them sitting next to each other, watching cartoons was comforting.

There was a time when Bella trusted Garrett, but that time had long passed. However, seeing him sitting with her daughter did put her at ease. As much as she could be at ease knowing Marcus Volturi could be sitting outside of the house, waiting to make his move. Waiting to take the only part of her life that mattered away from her.

"Mommy!" Charlie giggled, scrambling to her feet and hurrying over to her, jumping in her arms.

Garrett's eyes met Bella's, and for a brief moment, she saw the man he used to be. Back when she could trust him, but a moment later, he turned away from her, scrambling to his feet and started toward the dining room. It wasn't until Bella said, "E, take her to the kitchen. He and I need to talk," that Garrett stopped, but didn't look at her.

"Yeah, okay," Edward murmured, pulling Charlie out of her arms and carrying her into the kitchen.

"Mommy," Charlie cried, reaching for her.

"Go with Edward, sweetie," she said, trying to keep the tremor out of her voice. "Grandma will make you French toast."

Edward gave her a look before carrying the little girl out of the living room and into the kitchen, where she could hear her parents, Carlisle, Alice, and Jasper laughing like her world wasn't falling apart at the seams. Bella wrapped her arms around herself as Garrett shifted so that he was looking at her, his eyes full of a mixture of need and hatred.

She hadn't allowed herself to think about him since the night she and Edward made their escape, the night he left his partner in the hands of a madman. No, Bella didn't let Garrett own even one moment of her existence, but Tanya Denali on the other hand, haunted her every moment of the day.

"Why'd you come?"

Garrett shoved his hands into his pockets and shrugged his shoulders. "Edward called."

"But why did you come?" she pleaded.

"Fuck, B," he mumbled, shifting his eyes to the ground. "I don't know. I guess . . . I guess I needed to see for myself that you were alive, that you were okay."

"Okay?" she scoffed. "I haven't been okay since the day they snatched us away from everyone and through us in Hell, Garrett."

"Yeah, yeah, I suppose you're right," he admitted, dragging his hand through his hair. "I miss her. Every fucking day, I miss her."

"Me too," Bella whimpered, taking a step back when he reached for her. "Sorry, I'm not ready for that."

"S'okay," he mumbled. "Every day, I regret putting Tanya in that place. We should have known what was going to happen, but we thought . . . I don't fucking know, we thought we were going to save the world, but . . ." He shook his head. "Nothing we did made a Goddamn difference."

"No, it didn't," she agreed with a shaky breath. "I want to trust you. I need to be able to trust you, Garrett, because this isn't about me. Not anymore. It's about Charlie. She's innocent: the only one of us who is innocent."

"He's her father?"

Bella nodded.

"Motherfucker." Garrett closed his eyes, shaking his head before looking her straight in the eyes and saying, "He won't touch her, B. I won't let him touch her."

"Promise?" she cried, tightening her arms around herself.

Garrett was across the room, wrapping her in an embrace before she could stop him. The damn inside of her broke and her knees weakened, and for the millionth time in the last two weeks, she cried for the life she was forced to live, the Hell she wanted to escape from, and the ghosts of those left behind because of her.