I am here with the eleventh chapter of this our little tale of love and serial killers. Hope you like the way I did section I. Enjoy, my lovelies!

I.

Vice Cop Suspected of Kidnapping and Murder

By: Angela Webber

Yesterday a policeman by the name of James Alistair was gunned down in a warehouse on the pier while interfering in the rescue of a kidnap victim, the identity of which has yet to be revealed. However a source has revealed that Alistair, who is in critical condition in the ICU, is suspected to be the kidnapper and murderer that struck Seattle thirteen years ago, kidnapping and killing seven children. His last victim, eight year old Isabella Swan escaped and effectively ended his murder spree in the mid nineties.

Many remember those murders to be the most gruesome in the country's history and…

Continued on page A3

II.

Morphine was a wonderful drug. Bella felt herself floating through all the pain. She knew it was there, she could almost feel it, but it was just far enough away that the burns, the bruises the incisions, the broken bones she had suffered never quite touched her. The doctors told her she was going to be okay. There would be some minor scarring, but altogether she was lucky to be alive and she wouldn't suffer any permanent damage.

How wrong they were. She was already permanently damaged. She had been kidnapped and tortured not once, but twice. Both times she had managed to escape death, just barely she reminded herself. This time she had ended it by shooting him, James Alistair, and it still wasn't over. She was starting to fear that it never would be.

And Edward, beautiful Edward, he was trying so hard. He was staying with her as much as he could, but business took him away from her now and again. Emmett had to come in and take her statement to get it on record. She skipped over the most horrifying details of the torture, hoping it would suffice to say he tortured her and leave it at that. Emmett didn't push and she was glad that he was the one interviewing her. She would never have been able to tell a stranger and Edward would have gotten furious hearing her talk about it, watching her eyes tear up.

"Could Edward and I…being together, could that really screw the case up?" she asked quietly when Emmett was done taking her statement. He put his pen in the inside pocket of his jacket and sighed.

"Do you want me to tell you the truth or make you feel better?" he asked just as quietly back.

"The truth, I have morphine to make me feel better."

Emmett sighed and scratched his scalp absently.

"Edward and I went through some rather…unofficial channels to find out where you were, and that is not the only things we have done off the books or that goes against the rules. That stuff alone could be enough to get the case thrown out if anyone finds out about it, but I know they won't because the only people who know about it are Edward and I and other people who would rather see this stupid fucker put to death than let him go on a technicality. But Edward…he's one of the lead detectives on your case and he got personally involved. If you ask me, you two are the best things that could have ever happened to each other, but the courts won't exactly see it that way.

"The defense attorney could rip him apart on the stand. If they discredit him, they discredit all the work he did, every lead he chased down, every breakthrough he made. Everything he put together won't matter, even though it was fuck all brilliant. You won't be prosecuted for the shooting, and Edward certainly won't get in any real trouble other than a tongue lashing and a slap on the wrist, but the case will fall to shit. He could get back on the streets."

Bella felt her eyes flood with tears. The idea of him alive was enough to make her heart beat too fast; the idea of him free made her want to vomit.

"Hey, hey Bella, calm down, honey. If you think Edward or I is going to let that monster live past this hospital you are out of your mind," Emmett said, putting his hand on her arm. She closed her eyes and tried to just breathe.

"I asked him to do it and he didn't say anything, Emmett. I would do it myself if I could get out of this goddamn bed, I swear I would," she said angrily. Morphine did nothing to keep her emotions regulated. One minute she was up, the next she was down. There was nothing to help her keep them in check. Whatever she felt, she wore on her face.

"I know you would, Bella, I know. But do you really think Edward or is going to let him wake back up? If you do, you don't know us well enough," he replied, his voice quiet.

"I don't want you to get caught; I don't want you to get in trouble―" she started but Emmett shushed her.

"We're cops, Bella. He and I had this plan from the very beginning. It has been unspoken since the second we knew who he was. Besides, one second looking into those scared eyes and I know I couldn't stand knowing I could put that fear to rest and didn't, let alone Edward, who loves you more than anything else in his whole world. If the positions were reversed and Rose was here instead of you, I know I would want the son of a bitch dead and I wouldn't get fucking caught doing it either."

Emmett's eyes darkened marginally when he spoke his last words and for the first time Bella saw him for exactly what he was. She had always known he was dedicated, smarter than he looked, but it was then that she saw he was not only fiercely loyal but calculating far beyond what anyone ever gave him credit. Emmett knew the ins and outs of the system, he knew the cracks and holes and how to exploit them. And though it was a rare occasion upon which he would choose to pervert the system he worked for and the code he honored, he was more than happy to do so when the situation called for it.

And as he would say, this situation was all kinds of fucked up and definitely called for it.

"Thank you," Bella whispered in return, closing her eyes to try and stop the tears.

"You do not ever need to thank me for protecting you and doing my job," he rejoined softly.

"I would say this goes a bit above the call of duty, Emmett."

"I wouldn't. You are an innocent woman, a civilian, the woman my partner and best friend is in love with, and my friend. Protecting you, making you safe again is exactly how I would define my duty."

Bella reached her hand and touched his face briefly. Emmett smiled.

"You're a good man, Emmett."

"Thank you, ma'am; now if you'll excuse me I am going to make this statement official and send in your man who has been standing outside the door anxiously for the past twenty minutes waiting for me to finish up in here. I swear the kid has some kind of Bella ADHD, if he isn't concentrating on you, he can't concentrate on anything," he said with a grin. He bid her goodbye and once outside, spent a moment talking quietly to Edward before leaving. Edward came in and closed the door behind him, taking his place back at her bedside.

Bella smiled at him and he smiled down at her, tucking some of her hair behind her ear for her.

"You look tired, Edward," Bella announced. There were shadows under his jade eyes, a fatigue in his movements she hadn't noticed before. She had regained some of her lucidity in the past hour. The adrenaline crash and sudden infusion of morphine had put her in a fog, but she was starting to come out of it, and with that she was seeing how exhausted he looked. He was practically sagging with weariness.

"I'm fine," he answered, by rote it seemed.

"You don't have to do that for me, Edward. You are tired; when did you last sleep?" she asked. He paused and looked away. It was a bad sign if he had to think about it.

"Night before last, after I saw you at the motel," he answered slowly, with obvious reluctance. "It's been a busy few days," he continued after she eyed him with disapproval.

"I will call one of the nurses and have them set up a cot in here for you so you can get some sleep," she said quietly. He opened his mouth to argue and she narrowed her eyes. He sighed in defeat and Bella felt victorious.

It took no time at all to get someone to set up a cot for Edward to sleep in. Within ten minutes she was telling him to rest as he lay down reluctantly. The lights were off and the blinds were closed, it was almost as dark as it would have been at night. Within minutes Bella heard his breathing slow to a sleeping rhythm.

She looked over at him, lying on his side facing away from her, his arm curled under his head. He seemed almost like a child then, so vulnerable. She wanted nothing more than to fold herself into him, to burrow into the hollow between his arms and stay there until they were sharing warmth and their breathing had matched pace. Even though it hadn't worked, she never doubted for an instant why she had offered to go willingly with James. She would die for him without a second thought. And she knew that he would die for her.

And she knew, because he had said it and because Emmett had said it, that he would kill for her.

In fact, he planned on it.

III.

Edward slept soundly. He didn't know he was so tired until Bella pointed it out, fingering the skin under his eyes, commenting on how dark the shadows were, how exhausted all his movements were. He felt as though a weight had suddenly been laid across his shoulders and everything was heavy. He was going to fight her on sleeping, because he didn't want to miss a second of being near her, but she had that look in her eyes again, the one that told him not to argue and he had no choice. He let her call an orderly, let them set up a cot, let her usher him into bed. Sleep took him instantly and he slept dreamlessly for what seemed like eternity and not nearly enough time.

When he woke up he rubbed his eyes, trying to rid them of sleep and sat up. He stretched quietly, glancing out the window to see it was now night. He looked behind him at Bella, who as he thought she might be, was asleep. He took a long moment to stare at her resting form and then exited the room as quietly as he could. He went outside to taste some fresh air. As soon as it hit his lungs he felt invigorated and took out his phone.

He called Emmett, who informed him that their captain was planning on stopping by the hospital the next morning to speak to Bella, check on James—who was still comatose as far as Edward or Emmett knew—and to speak rather pointedly with Edward about his misconduct. Edward was both dreading and anticipating it. He just wanted to get it over with.

Emmett and his conversation was short. Emmett was home with Rosalie, and Edward understood with Emmett needing to tell him that he wanted to just spend time with her. He hung up as soon as they were up to date with each other.

Edward had waited eagerly and impatiently outside Bella's room while Emmett had interviewed her and taken her statement. He had insisted on being present, but Emmett told him to stay outside.

"She is going to be saying things you don't need to hear, Edward," Emmett had said, and he knew he was right, like he usually was. So he had waited and twenty minutes later Emmett emerged. They looked at each other for a moment and all Emmett said was 'I'm in."

Edward didn't have to ask what he meant.

Bella had asked him rather pointedly to kill James. He had been surprised that she had asked, but it made him confront the reality he had felt to be true earlier. He could not live in a world with James in it. He could not forgive him for what he had done, and could not trust a prison to keep him behind bars. He knew that there was a chance that if he went to prison —a very high chance—another prisoner would kill him. Jail was not a very welcoming place for a cop or a kid killer. But there was also a chance that he would never make it to that. That he would get put on bail and while on bail he would skip out and never be found again. Or maybe he wouldn't skip out on bail and he would be acquitted.

Edward had faith in the justice system in almost all things, but the idea of the man who had stolen and tortured the love of his life going free made his skin crawl. Not to mention the chance that he himself would be the reason the case was discredited and thrown out made him want to vomit. He couldn't bear the thought of him getting away with it all because of him.

No matter how Bella had asked him he would have done it, because for her would have done anything. He hadn't been lying about that. But what cemented it was the sound of her voice when she asked, the emptiness in her eyes. For those brief moments she had ceased to be Bella. She was could have been if she were a lesser person, the scared, hollowed out version of herself. It was what she would become if he lived, if he was allowed to exist in this world with her.

She might get some closure from his being tried and found guilty, but she would never find peace until he was dead. It was doubtful he would ever be convicted of the previous seven kidnappings and murders even though the papers had already caught wind of their suspicions (from Emmett's anonymous tip, he was sure). They didn't have enough solid evidence to connect him to those crimes. There would be no death penalty in his future. Kidnapping, torture and attempted murder were all possible convictions, but even then he would only serve life in prison.

He could not abide it. He did not want to wake up next to Bella every morning and see the light had left her eyes. She would be a shadow of who she had worked so hard to become and he just couldn't take that. He might as well have killed her.

He tried to tell himself that the reasons he wanted James dead were purely altruistic, but in reality there was a bubble of rage under the surface that wanted James dead just because he wanted nothing more than to end the life of the motherfucker who thought he had some kind of claim over Bella. He caused her so much pain, and it was going to give him so much pleasure to know for certain that he never would again. It wasn't necessarily the act of killing, but the knowing it was over. He wanted to be the one to do so he could know with absolutely certainty that it was done. Knowing Emmett would be there to assist him made things easier.

Edward had never taken a life on the job. He had discharged his weapon twice, but both times he only injured the perp, he hadn't killed them. Both shootings were in extreme circumstances and were obviously cleared when the cases were looked into. He had always thought if he could go his entire career without killing anyone he would be a happy man, though he understood that sometimes it was unavoidable, and occasionally even necessary to take a life.

In this case, where the choice was kill James to save Bella, he knew it was more than justified. All that he had to do now was figure out exactly how he planned on taking him out.

Doing it in the hospital might be too conspicuous, it wasn't as though he would have many good exit points if he were to try and kill him in his room, not to mention he was under constant surveillance, so his presence would never go unnoticed. He tried to mentally tick over the ways he could go about it in the hospital, and came up with far too few options that suited him and didn't include serious prison time. But from what he had heard, James would make a full recovery, so he would not always be in the hospital. He could be in custody, out on bail, any number of scenarios.

Edward took another steadying breath in the ambulance bay where he had been standing, first to make his phone call then to think. Murder wasn't something he liked to contemplate, but it did strike him as ironic that he was doing so at a hospital. The red and blue lights of an ambulance signaled its approach and Edward watched as a stretcher was pulled from the back of it, nurses and doctors rushing to the sides, emergency medical technicians shouting things to them. Edward understood much of what they were saying; he was the son of a doctor, after all. He hadn't really needed the doctor's positive prognosis after he was told the extent of Bella's injuries, he knew without being told that time would heal her.

Time and peace.

He went back inside, leaving the fresh air behind in favor of his Bella. He found her pushing hospital food around on a tray, poking at Jell-O with her spoon. She looked up at him, chagrined.

"I'm pretty sure this was made in the seventies," she said quietly. Edward chuckled to himself. You had to give it to the girl; even in a hospital bed she was adorable. He went to the seat by her bed, the one he had occupied almost constantly since coming to her side again. She reached her hand out to him, IV in the back of it, tethering her to the saline and the morphine and the bed she was supposed to be healing in.

"How did this happen?" Edward asked, reaching out to touch the indigo colored bruise he could see peeking out from the top of her hospital gown. He let his fingers skim lightly over her skin, careful not to hurt her.

"I don't think you want to know," she said quietly in return. She was right on one hand. He really didn't want to know what he had done to her to hurt her that way. He didn't want to, but he needed to. Everything in his world was coming crashing down on him at this very moment; the only thing he really had left was Bella. If he couldn't do what she needed, then he literally had nothing. She needed him to take out the son of a bitch that tried to kill her, so he needed to have all the information.

"Tell me," he supplicated gently. She bit her lip. He looked back at the stain on her skin.

"Brass knuckles," she whispered. Edward flinched, but did not look away. He brushed his fingers over the light bandages on her arm.

"And this?" he inquired.

"An iron."

"And this?" he asked, his fingertips touching the bandage covered stitches on her arm where she had her deepest laceration.

"A filet knife."

"And this?" he whispered in question, gesturing to her feet.

"A blowtorch."

Edward shook slightly, but internalized the rage and put it away for later, knowing there would be time, plenty of time, to get rid of it.

He was going to destroy that motherfucker, and he was going to do it soon.