Thanks to our Beta-queen Bri and major thanks to you guys. Reviews enlighten my day frequently!

Disclaimer: This belongs to Stephenie Meyer although I doubt she wants to have it.

Chapter 9 – Leave your heart, change your name

Leave your heart

change your name

live alone

eat your cake.

(The National – Vaderlylle, Cry Baby)

Edward Cullen

What the hell had I done?

The rumours are confirmed and now it's official: The award for the worst person ever goes to – insert imaginative drumroll - Edward Anthony Cullen!!! Thank you very much!

I sat in my car on some country road outside of town. Far outside of town. My head rested against the steering wheel, although from time to time I lifted it, just so I could crash it down to the leather again. Unfortunately, it didn't hurt. I deserved to be hurt. Maybe I could convince Jasper to beat some sense into me.

I kissed her. I really just kissed her. Those words vibrated back and forth in my mind. I had never done something like that before. Well the kissing I had done before, but never had I kissed someone and then ran away. What kind of chicken shit does that?

Apparently me.

I didn't even wait for her to say something. Not before and not even after this legendary kiss.

Before and after the kiss. I guess I could divide my life into two chapters. Before Bella and after Bella. Someone should do a new computation of time or something. Who was Jesus Christ anyway?

Bella, the murder that I didn't do and everything I planned vigorously in my head for the immediate future were my direct ticket to hell.

I gave myself a few more minutes to wallow in self-pity and disgust, before I braced myself to do the things that needed to be done. But just thinking about that kiss, about her lips on mine and her hands in my hair made my whole body ache. It wasn't a good ache, but also not a bad ache. It was just there, like a constant reminder of what I was missing.

I lifted my head one final time off the steering wheel but it was as if all strength had left me. It sank right back against the head rest.

God, Cullen, man up. Be strong for once!

I gave myself an internal pep talk and finally reached for the phone in my jacket pocket and the little yellow note along with it.

Quickly dialling the number of Mr. Henderson of NatWest, I already thought about where to get the number of that Icelandic bank without ripping another page out of a phone book.

"Anne Miller, NatWest Newcastle speaking. How may I help you?" a much too happy voice greeted me.

"Good morning Miss. I would like to speak to Mr. Henderson, please."

"Of course Sir, whom should I announce?"

I quickly measured the option to give out a fake name, being a fugitive and all, but the only chance to get answers was to be myself. The boss of Gateshead Windpower.

"Cullen, Edward Cullen."

At least I sounded like James Bond and not like one of the bad guys. Although, come to think of it, Bond wasn't a pacifist either.

"Of course Mr. Cullen. Just a moment, please."

Some annoying midi-sound jingled through the line for a few seconds until I was greeted by Mr. Henderson.

"Mr. Cullen, how come I get the pleasure of your call this early in the morning?"

I glanced at the clock on the dashboard, instantly relieved when I saw it was already past eight. Not conspicuously early.

"Mr. Henderson. I'd like to get directly to the point of this. During the annual audit I've checked the statements of account and I'd like to request the details you have for the firm 'Fagur Alit' in Iceland. We've been transferring money to the company."

"I'm sorry Mr. Cullen, but I'm used to Mr. Barth handling the accounting. Has there been any problem regarding our business relation, because I assure you we are willing to do our--"

"No, cooperating with you is fine," I quickly interrupted. "It's just, Mr. Barth is ill and unfortunately we have to handle the audit during his absence." The lies were coming quite freely now.

"Ah, I see, would you be so kind to send Mr. Barth my best regards. As for your request I'm afraid we don't have any more information on a transferee than what's already on the statement of account," Mr. Henderson answered and my last hope came crashing down on me. Bella was right. This would have been too easy.

"So, who has the information on the transferee? Your colleagues in Iceland?"

"Yes, Mr. Cullen. The house bank of this company would have the same informations as NatWest has about your firm. But I'm afraid due to banking secrecy, they are not allowed to give information to anyone besides the firm itself."

I exhaled into the speaker, the desperation constantly growing. But of course I got his point. I wouldn't want my bank to give out information to some random guy on the phone either. I thanked Mr. Henderson anyway and hung up. Maybe I should have told him to inhibit any further transfers that may be assigned, but I didn't want to raise any suspicion. It wasn't necessary for anyone to know that I was about to discover what was going on. No need to warn and alarm those criminals any further.

A call to the Icelandic Bank was a dead end. They wouldn't give me the information I needed and certainly not on the phone. Bella had been right all along. It was too naïve to think they would tell me anything.

As expected: a journey to Iceland was what I had to do.

I hit one of the speed-dials on my phone and after three rings Jasper answered groggily. I clearly wasn't in the mood for smalltalk and almost certain Jasper would understand the hurry I was in.

"Jasper, I need your help!"

"Edward! Well a good morning to you, too. I'm fine, thank you for asking. It's not like I tried calling you all the time. Where are you and what the hell happened?" His voice shifted from concerned to angry in between two sentences.

"I'm fine, everything's just fine. Can we talk? It's important. Are you alone?"

"Uhm, what? No. Alice is here. But whatever it is, you can talk. There are no secrets between the two of us."

"Ah well, that's too sweet Jasper, but I don't want any more people in this than necessary."

"What did you do? Don't tell me you killed this Claire after all."

"Blimey! Of course not. Are you alone at last?"

"Yes, Alice is still sleeping. I'm in the kitchen."

"Good. Listen, I need to talk to one of your mates. You know, the ones from your past--," I trailed off. I knew this was hard for Jasper to talk about and I felt bad for even asking, but it was my only chance to get what I wanted.

"They are not my mates anymore." He was firm in his answer and I knew I needed to word this carefully.

"I know and I'm sorry," I apologised, thinking a moment about how to phrase my request properly. Eventually I decided I just had to tell him without beating around the bush. There was no way to put a gloss on this. "Jasper, I need a new passport."

His answer came immediately.

"Go to the local registration office."

"You know what I mean. Please, don't make this hard on me."

"Stop it right now, Edward. I haven't told you all about my shit, because I want you to participate or something. I told you because I changed. My life changed and I wanted to start all over with honesty and without lies and especially without those people."

"I know Jasper and I'm sorry. Believe me, I wouldn't ask if I knew any other possibility."

"Tell me why!" he demanded.

"No Jasper, I don't want you involved. Just give me a name and I'll handle it myself."

"Why?" he asked again, not backing away.

"Because you're my friend."

"Wow Edward, that's a low blow."

"I know. Did it work?"

He was quiet for a second and I could already sense my victory.

"Dammit! Go to the Middlefields Industrial Estate near the harbour. Ask someone for Jason. They know who he is down there. And when they shoot you in the head, don't blame me!"

"I won't."

"Good."

"Thank you Jasper, I owe you one."

"You owe me more than one."

"Probably."

It was quiet again and I was about to tell him goodbye, when he restarted talking.

"Is there any chance you are going to tell me why you need a new passport?"

I considered this for a second and concluded it couldn't hurt to tell him at least something. Like he said, I owed him big time!

"The police are looking for me and I need to get out of town to prove my innocence, 'cause no one else will."

"Geez Edward!" I could all but hear him roll his eyes. "Sometimes I'm wondering why I consider you my best friend. First, please stop this self-pity-party... 'cause no one else will...'," he imitated my choice of words. "Really Edward. That's pathetic. Second, you are going to commit a crime to prove you're innocent?"

"If you put it that way it sounds a little weird, but yes, I guess that's what I'm doing."

"You're insane."

"Yeah thanks. That's the encouragement I needed."

"You're welcome. Listen Edward, I understand that I can't convince you otherwise. I know how you are when you set your mind on something and how you think you're unmistakable and always right, but really, be careful. Don't go to Jason after dark. He's scary enough in daylight. And really, just reconsider this once more. It's totally stupid!"

"Thanks Jasper, I appreciate your concern, but I know what needs to be done now. Is it okay to tell them you sent me, or should I leave your name out of this?"

"Well, I doubt they're going to help you when you just tell them you're the fugitive Edward Cullen. They're really careful nowadays. Oh and plan to bring a lot of cash. They probably know who you are and won't make it cheap. Dammit Edward, I should go with you. It's not safe for you or anyone really to go there by himself."

"No!" I blurted out a little too fast. I didn't want him involved in this mess more than absolutely necessary. "I will be careful," I added and it was a promise I intended to fulfil.

Jasper tried to convince me otherwise a few more times. He wanted me to leave this alone or to let him help me, but finally Alice appeared in his kitchen and I knew that her presence was all he needed to stay at home. He wouldn't leave her alone for this. And he shouldn't.

We hung up and as soon as the line went dead, my thoughts went back to my Bella. I knew I had no right to use this possessive pronoun, but I couldn't help it. At least in my head, she was mine. My beautiful Bella. I was a little obsessed before, but now I was brainwashed or something. What would I give to just be with her again.

Since that was not an option, I headed for the bank instead. I needed cash for my plan to work out. And probably a lot of it. During a little detour on my way back into town I accidentally passed by Bella's apartment. Of course that didn't make any sense at all. There was nothing to be seen. Not even a light on, but I just had to do it. That happens a lot lately. Like I'm not able to think and I just have to do things.

Kissing Bella was one of those unintentional things. And in that case I was glad my brain didn't argue with my instincts for too long.

At the bank I headed straight for the counter because those cash-machines had limits I was about to exceed. The friendly woman looked a little confused when she handed me a quite big amount of cash, but I guess stranger things happen in banks than me withdrawing money.

I stuffed the stack of notes in the inner pocket of my jacket, fingers trailing carefully across the lining were my precious iPod formerly resided. I had the whole playlist memorised, the melodies now haunting me. Would she listen to them even if she hated me? Would she like them? Would she finally like Wonderwall?

After sliding behind the steering wheel, I fumbled with the radio until I found a decent station and started the motor eventually.

The thought of where I had to drive next, left me with trembling hands.

I shouldn't be such a coward, but I knew what those people had done to Jasper and that only Alice was able to make him leave that shit behind. He told me about his past shortly after my father died, when our friendship crossed that thin line between acquaintance and friendship. Since then we shared a thick bond of acceptance and trust that meant more to me than I could ever tell him. I felt bad using his connections to the organised gang down at the harbour, but who else should I confront with my request? They were dangerous and absolutely lethal if you accidentally stomped on someone's foot, but I had to take the risks if I wanted my plans to work out.

The Volvo rolled down the highway towards the Tyne river, while I flipped through the stations again, looking for some classical music. I missed my iPod more from minute to minute. Was Bella listening to it at least?

The houses got darker and dirtier outside the confines of my car and out of fear for my Volvo, I parked it a little away from where the houses were more or less ruins. While I circulated expertly into a narrow spot on the side of the street, my eyes fell onto the reflection of myself in the rear-view mirror. I didn't think of myself as a vain person, but for a second I was a little shocked. The mess on my head that people were supposed to call hair, was another reminder of my Bella and her capable gentle hands. It was a nice and torturous reminder at the same time. Since I had no intentions to let those criminals know what I did this morning, I tried to straighten it out, pushing and pulling to flatten it down a bit. As always, it didn't turn out to be a very successful try, but as I stepped out of the car, the wind did the rest. It was colder out here than in the city. The closeness of the sea was enough to drop the temperature by a few degrees and to let the air faintly taste of salt.

I closed the buttons of my jacket, not only to secure the money on the inside, but also because it really was cold. After a short orientation and some looking around, I walked in the direction where I assumed the bad guys to be. I had no idea if the dark side even worked before sunset, but I figured I had to give it a try.

I wandered for a few minutes and soon the harbour-quarter was within eyeshot. It was a dingy and bedraggled neighbourhood. The plaster was falling off the old red brick walls, while graffiti had been sprayed on every wall within the reach of someone's arm. Just initials or curse words, nothing I would consider art. The windows were mostly broken or so dirty they didn't deserve the word window anymore. I walked over the deserted cobble stone pavement until I finally saw two guys in their early twenties sitting on the stairs in front of a building, which was in no better condition than the other ones I had just passed. Trying to avoid thinking about Jasper's comment about shooting people's heads too much, I approached them, anxiety slowly making itself known in the form of my increasing heartbeat.

I thought about what they say about animals. You shouldn't let them know your fear. This should work with human beings as well, right? It's not like I'm a very muscular or scary person, but I definitely could pretend to be one. Hands in pockets, I straightened up and at least tried to look at them and not on the pavement, which was what I would preferably do.

They didn't care at all.

They didn't even notice me until I was standing right in front of them, clearing my throat louder than necessary.

The boys looked up slowly, their puffy eyes showing their extensive drug use. Their clothes were scruffy and worn down, their hair long, greasy and messy. I internally laughed about myself, trying to smooth my hair out before facing the criminals.

"Who are you?" one of them demanded, more out of boredom than out of interest.

I wasn't really comfortable with telling them my name or anything really, so I opted for a counter-question. "I'm looking for Jason. Can you tell me where to find him?"

"Sure!" the other one answered and as he didn't continue I felt the need to say something again.

"So, are you going to tell me?"

"That depends, bro! How much is this information worth for you?"

I couldn't believe my ears. Both of them could barely see out of their eyes and were still able to blackmail me?

"Alright, what if I give you ten pounds?" Their eyebrows rose and I quickly added an "each!" behind my sentence. One of them huffed, while the other one just stared at me expectantly. I raised my offer to twenty pounds and the first one chuckled, obviously amused.

"I tell you what. We show you exactly where to find Jason, when you give us fifty pounds each."

I swallowed. Is this how it's supposed to work? Maybe I should just go and find this guy myself. Oh well, it was just money. I handed them each a note after they had assured me they would lead the way and fortunately that's exactly what they did. However, that it was just one block down the road and I, regrettably, gave one hundred pounds to some kids, who would buy drugs from my money just to lead me a few yards to a building I wasn't even sure I wanted to go into.

They left me standing in front of the grey house, which built a monotonous force with the grey sky above. The windows weren't broken, but some of them were closed with shutters and the graffiti was still in place. Just the awry neon sign over the entrance indicated the club or bar that would await me inside. It read 'Eclipse', although the lights of three letters were broken down. I missed the comfort of Bella's apartment more than ever before.

Of course there was no doorbell to ring and I had to make a decision of running and screaming or being brave and just trying the door handle. Being brave sounded like the better alternative in my head and without considering the possible consequences, I stepped onto the front porch and turned the knob with a loud creak. The door swung open into a dark hallway.

The timber floor board cracked with each of my steps and if this Jason was somewhere in the building he surely was aware of my presence by now. The noises of the old house were doing a better job than any doorbell could. I just hoped that at least the pounding of my heart was only audible for my own ears.

As I slowly walked down the corridor, unsure about my destination, suddenly a tall and skinny man appeared in front of me.

"Hey man, what are you doing here?" he asked and I tried not to stutter when I repeated my request to find Jason. I silently wished I had watched more of The Sopranos or something similar. That way I would know how to behave in such an environment.

Besides exceeding the speed limits from time to time, I had never really done anything against the law. Well, I had drunk a beer once when I was 13, but it tasted bitter and pretty terrible so I didn't try it again before I was legal. I surely could use one now, though. Or a shot of good Scottish whisky. Or anther kiss from my Bella. Yeah, these were the drugs I craved, mentioned in ascending order of degree of current desire.

But instead of some fulfilment of my desires, I had this weird guy asking me what I wanted from Jason.

"Well, Jasper sent me," I began and instantly saw the shift in tall-guy's posture. "He told me about the great business one could do with Jason."

At least I had the feeling I sounded quite confident there. Truth be told, it was a lot easier, when I could hide behind Jasper's name, which clearly rang a bell around this place still. He had made himself quite popular in this neighbourhood after all.

"Of course, Sir. Please follow me," tall-guy replied and I followed him not showing my uneasiness.

This way seemed a lot more complicated than the one I paid a hundred pounds for before, but it was a relief that tall-guy apparently didn't expect me to pay him for his service. We walked through the bar, which even provided a dirty little dance floor, through a couple of doors and some curtains until we finally reached our destination in the back of the building.

Tall-guy knocked on one of the more stable-looking doors of this house and a hoarsely, rough voice barked "Come in!" in response.

I entered the room right behind tall-guy, who introduced me as best as he could.

"Sorry to bother you again, Sir, but I found this fella in the hallway. He said Jasper had sent him."

The formerly blocked view was now free, as tall-guy stepped aside a little. With a raised eyebrow a man, who I guessed to be Jason, eyed me from behind his large wooden desk.

This office was in better shape than I had expected it to be. The carpet was fairly clean, the leather chair behind and even the ones in front of the desk looked expensive, while the one big window of the room was undamaged and even clean. The view however was not spectacular. Just a grey backyard with some more graffiti. It was a typical back room of a criminal, but a good one at that.

Everything about the man behind the desk screamed villain. Not because he looked dirty or poor or anything like that. Quite the opposite. The neat suit, the gold chains dangling around his neck and wrists, the meticulous gelled hair and the respect with which he was addressed by tall-guy proved his position in this community only further.

His eyes were dark, his thin lips pale, the skin wrinkled. I estimated him to be in his late fifties.

"Jasper?" he asked, the left eyebrow still raised. "I haven't heard from him in a long time. How is my friend?"

I knew one thing for sure. This guy wasn't Jasper's friend. But I decided to play along.

"Oh he's fine. Great even. He sends his regards."

"Well, well. So you are a friend of him?"

"Yes." At least one word which wasn't a lie.

"I see." He paused and motioned with a waving hand gesture for tall-guy to leave the office. Said man turned and strolled out of the door, closing it behind him.

Silence filled the room. Alone with the devil himself. Nice.

"So, how may I help you? Does Jasper need anything?" He spoke slow and secure. His smoky voice was unnerving to say the least.

"Oh no, Jasper's all good. I'm here because I need a new passport."

"A passport? Why don't you go to the local registration office?"

Very funny. I think I've heard this one before. Smart ass!

"I might need one with a different name on it than my own."

"Ah, I see. But that would be illegal, wouldn't it?"

So that's how we play this game now? Him pretending not to know what I was talking about? He was probably afraid that I wasn't serious or that I had been sent by the police to discover his... business.

I groaned.

"Listen, I'm wanted for murder and I'm not in what you could call a good mood, so please stop playing these games and tell me how much a new passport would cost me."

His lips turned into a diabolic grin, which literally creeped the hell out of me. A shiver ran down my spine.

"You are Edward Cullen, aren't you?" he asked and the blood disappeared from my face. So much for staying anonymous and getting a new ID. My shocked expression must have been answer enough for him. "Now that is interesting. Please my friend, have a seat. I didn't know Jasper had such wealthy friends." I sat down, not because I wanted to get comfortable, but because I was afraid I might pass out otherwise.

"You were all over the police radio this morning. It was quite entertaining when I listened to it earlier. They think you're going to kill the retired chief's cute little daughter next. Really amusing. It's not often that things like this happen in good old Newcastle. Good job! And now you're here and about to leave the country? Yeah, probably the best you can do in your situation."

Was I supposed to say something now? I couldn't. My only reaction was a growl deep down in my stomach when he just mentioned the possible death of Bella. Caused by me no less. It was laughable, but it made me angry as well. I kept it quiet nonetheless, while Jason continued.

"Well, I'm going to tell you the rules of this. And only once, so listen closely." His eyes narrowed even further, while he leaned over his desk a bit and raised a finger. "First. This won't be cheap and I only take cash. Second. If you tell anyone or so much as think about telling anyone about this office, I'm either going to make your life hell or I'm simply going to kill you. Depends on my mood. I guess Jasper will be dead, too. I trusted him once, but you know, things might change. Third. This will take about a week. I don't want you here and I don't want you to come back. You draw too much attention as it is. When it's ready, I'll have someone bring it to you and for this reason someone will call you and ask for your place of residence. Are we clear?"

Well, did I have a choice? "Yes, crystal. But this whole process needs to be fastened. One week is... too long."

"Show me the amount of money you're intending to spend on this."

I opened the buttons of my coat and revealed a quite big amount of banknotes, which I placed on the table as casual as possible.

The little Dollar-symbols behind his eyes were impossible to miss. Money rules the world after all.

"I'm going to contact my mates in London. Maybe I can do something for you. Expect this to be ready around Monday then. Now hand me a photo and tell me the information you want on the ID."

Photo?

"Photo? I don't....."

"Are you sure, you're friends with Jasper? He is never unprepared. Give me your original passport then. I'm going to scan this and have my people work with it."

Is it safe to give these people your real ID? Probably not.

Oh well. I handed it over.

While he did something with it on his PC and with other devices, he asked me for a new name and birthday and said, we couldn't change my real eye colour unless I wanted to wear contacts all the time.

I decided for Anthony Masen as my new name, which was actually my middle name and I wasn't creative enough to think of something else under the pressure Jason's gaze provided. I wasn't sure about my new date of birth, so I randomly picked a date.

When everything was said and done, Jason asked me for a phone number, where one of his guys could reach me, but as I was about to give him my mobile number, his brows furrowed.

"This isn't your usual number, right? It's a secure phone, isn't it?"

We both knew it wasn't, but I shook my head nonetheless.

"God, how I hate to work with such greenhorns like you. How come you're so rich pretty boy? You have no brains at all."

He thought for a second, stood up, took a pretty big bunch of keys out of his pocket and walked over to a metal closet on the other side of the room.

From my point of view, I couldn't see what was in there, because the door was blocking my view, but after a short moment, he closed the door again and threw a little mobile phone in my direction. Fortunately at least my reflexes were quite fast, so I had no problems catching it. There was absolutely no desire to find out what he would do to me, if I let this fall onto the ground.

The phone was new and fancy and even better than my own as it seemed. I eyed it for a second, before Jason settled behind his desk again and began talking.

"You should be glad I like you, pretty boy. You are quite the entertainment. Take the phone as a gift, but do me a favour and throw your old one away. This one is secure. The police can't find you via GPS and the calls can't be overheard. I've got my best men working on this kind of technology. I've got the number, so expect someone to call as soon as your passport is ready."

I was glad when everything was finally over and Jason dismissed me. I found my way out of the building and hurried out of this neighbourhood. I had definitely been out here long enough. As soon as I reached my car, I slipped into the driver's seat and began to copy the most important numbers out of my old phone and typed them into the new one. Then I turned the old one off, with hopes they hadn't traced this GPS thing yet, silently wondering why I had been so stupid in the first place.

It was already afternoon by now and there were still a lot of things that needed to be done. My first priority was to find a bed for the night. And a roofed one at that.

My own apartment was out of the question and so was Esme's house. I considered Jasper, but there was no need to bring him more into this sick game than I already had. Bella's couch... well, no. I couldn't even allow my thoughts to go there. And not only to keep her safe from the dangerous murderers out there.

I needed a neutral place to sleep and hide for the next three nights. A hotel which wouldn't require an ID or a credit card. And I certainly had never slept in one of those. The only thing I could think of were those transient hotels where they let rooms by the hour.

I was in for some great nights for sure.

We both have been to Newcastle once, but we are not that familiar with the city structure. The quarter around the harbour might be one of good, hard-working people, but we thought a harbour would be quite a good setting for some criminal stuff going on. But this all came from our imagination.

The Sopranos are a pretty famous US TV-series about a family in the Mafia business.

Sorry this has been a chapter without Bella, but things will change very soon.

Thanks for reading.