A/N: I don't normally continue one-shots, but I had so much fun writing this that I just kept going and before I knew it I was writing out chapter after chapter.

My other WIPs will be updated eventually, I'm just too jittery to really focus on outlines.

This is still for BittenBee. It's the birthday that never ends. :)

Carlisle pulled out drawers, snapping them forward until the wood stopped him from pulling it to the floor. He grabbed a pen and stabbed it into a piece of paper, scribbling meaningless words onto the blank sheet. After thirty seconds of his aimless writing the tip indented and ink splattered everywhere.

I held onto my shoulder, unfurling the top layer of the wrap. The bullet had been pried out but I was left with a fleshy, oozing, swollen sore that stung like a bitch. I played the edges of the wound and flicked off dried skin.

"Stop it," Carlisle snapped. "You're an idiot."

I threw the area pad over the bullet wound and glared at Carlisle. "You're the one who said to kill him before he got away."

"You shot to kill because he was going to kill the hostage!" Carlisle's arms were in the air, waving around like a mad man. I itched the top of my wrap and flinched when I got to close to the hole. "I told you she didn't have a bounty, she could have died. James wouldn't have gotten far with a shotty leg and even worse off car."

I sat on the arm of a leather chair and stretched my legs out. "My moral character decided to pipe up. Bella didn't do anything wrong. She'd been in his possession for months. And don't you think that if I went after him he would have blown his brains out? He was adamant about not going back to jail."

"You could have tried," he hissed. "You didn't even get evidence from the crime scene. And now police have your image all over the news. This was sloppy and poorly executed. I'm severely disappointed in you, Edward."

I scratched the back of my head. "Fifteen isn't too bad," I reasoned. "Sure, we didn't get the bounty, but at least we didn't walk with nothing. And we've got the daughter of a small town cop for bribery. I think we could get five grand out of her."

Carlisle did not appreciate my joke.

"I want her ass out of here," he ordered. "I'm surprised you got ten minutes away from her. You'd think after being attached to a psychopath for that long she'd want some freedom." He pinched the bridge of his nose and propped his feet on the large oak desk. "What did you get from her about her captivity?"

"There were regular beatings." I closed my eyes briefly. The medical examiner had shown me pictures of her back. It was covered in welts from the handle of a gun and she had knife marks along the center of her back. I hadn't been surprised by that. If she decided to run one quick thrust into the spine would stop her. "From what she told me it doesn't sound like she was sexually assaulted. He claimed to have a girlfriend out west who he spoke with on disposable cell phones. There was another guy, but she didn't know much about him."

Carlisle wrote everything down, slowly this time as not to increase the ink now dripping to the hardwood. "Great. Did she happen to mention if they'd seek revenge? I'm sure he was running for a reason."

I shook my head, playing with a switchblade that sat idly on my right knee. "She doesn't tell me much of anything, only what I specifically ask her in as little detail as possible. I think that's what James trained her to do."

"Wouldn't doubt it," Carlisle muttered. "You can't keep her. She's gotta go back home, and soon."

I snorted and fell into the large Italian leather chair. My ass sunk into the cushion and I sighed. "Hey, they sooner you book a flight for her the sooner I can start up again." Carlisle eyed my shoulder warily. "Don't even start with me. It's a flesh wound. It'll be healed and better in two weeks tops."

"Where is she now?" he asked.

I hitched my thumb. "Hallway."

Carlisle rolled his eyes and drew a hand down his face. I took my leave as a frustrated sigh left his throat. The floor creaked beneath my socked feet and as soon as I stepped out Bella glued herself to my side.

--

"I don't care what Carlisle says, I'm not leaving," Bella huffed. Her arms crossed under her chest, she stood with her legs shoulder width apart.

I tried to dry off the water from my shower but was distracted by her constant yelling in my bathroom doorway. The girl had no finesse as she used her identification card to undo my lock and barge into the bathroom, throwing back the shower curtain and screaming her head off.

"Too bad so sad," I said.

She grabbed ice cubes from the bucket by the alcohol and started pelting them at me. I hissed as they hit my warm flesh, some even sticking to the still-wet parts of my chest. I picked up the baby powder under the sink and unscrewed the top, throwing it at her until she looked like a snowman.

I learned very quickly that there was no arguing with Bella. She was used to physical ways of expressing herself and she often blew up out of nowhere or had temper tantrums that rivaled my niece. I had started to remove the plastic bags from garbage cans so she wouldn't feel tempted to smother me in my sleep.

"I'm not leaving!" she yelled, brushing the powder from her clothes and coughing it up. She grabbed the bucket of ice and threw it at me. Beside the stinging pain of hard objects hitting me, the cold had my teeth chattering.

I stepped forward. "The hell you aren't." Another step. "I'll give you a three second head start."

She turned on her heel and began to run, throwing down a potted plant on her way out. I jumped it, holding onto my towel while I chased her. She ran down the hotel's hall, skidding on a turn for the stairs. My boys were flapping in the wind but that was the least of my worries.

Bella managed to make it two flights of stairs below me by the time I reached the platform. I jumped the railing, hissing my shoulder jolted from impact. Decidedly running the rest of the way, I could see her hair whipping around the doorframe and onto another level.

A Goddamn busboy got in my way as I rounded, his cart banging into my knee and sending shocks of pain through my already sore legs. The kid squeaked an apology and I pushed his cart into a wall as Bella rounded another corner. This hotel was like a fucking corn maze.

I flew after her, pumping my legs and clinging onto my towel. I ignored the stares of hotel patrons and focused solely on getting my hands around Bella's little neck. I caught up to her around floor six when we were only a few rooms apart.

"I'm not going back!" she shouted breathlessly.

I pumped my legs harder. "Yes you are! Your dad… is looking for you and the entire state of Washington—" I nearly stumbled on a stack of dirty dishes she flipped onto the ground. "Just go back already!"

"No!" she belted petulantly. "I'm staying with you!"

I was so close, so close. My outstretched fingers brushed a few strands of her hair, pulling them out. Bella protested and drove herself harder to escape from my closing form. The Goddamn towel was wrapped around my thighs and starting to chafe.

"If you stop now I won't kick your ass," I reasoned one last time.

Her heavy exhale could have been a scoff. "Like you could."

I was beyond replying as I threw off my towel and worked my newly freed legs. I streaked down the hall and tackled her to the ground. Her shrieking was God awful and ear bleeding. Bells rang in my skull and she tried to kick me in the nuts once she realized I'd dropped my modesty somewhere down the hall.

I rolled onto my back, arm still wrapped firmly around Bella's waist. My muscles started to give out and the tenseness from my run left my muscles weak.

Bella shut her mouth long enough to realize there was something wrong. "Hey, are you okay, Edward?"

"No," I moaned. "You opened it up."

Her eyes darted to my dick and I lazily snapped my fingers and pointed to my shoulder. She put a hand over her mouth and rocked back. She went pale as a ghost and her pupils dilated. If she threw up on me I was gonna lose it.

"Oh God," she groaned. "I hate blood."

I latched onto her thigh, trying to pull her back. "Don't you fucking dare leave me here—"

Her eyes fluttered and she fell backwards. Her head hit the floor with an audible thump and I was stuck naked in a hotel hallway with a gushing shoulder and passed out crazy bitch. I tried to fish out a phone from Bella's front pocket, narrowly grasping it.

"What, Edward?" Carlisle snapped.

"Come to the sixth floor. I need your help. Bring me clothes."

--

After Carlisle swore at me for two hours and dressed my arm I was left in my hotel room to stare blankly at the screen selection. Two weeks tops had turned into a month thanks to Bella. The tissue that hadn't been quite torn by James's bullet broke and my few stitches had been multiplied.

There was a soft knock at my door. She didn't wait for me to get up and unlock it, instead slid her ID through the small space and somehow got it open. I didn't acknowledge her as she came in and stood at my bedside. Not only did she force me to humiliate myself in front of Carlisle but she had solidified the reason why she needed to go back home.

"Edward, I'm really, really sorry," Bella apologized. "I honestly didn't think you'd chase after me—especially not in a towel. And then your… thing kind of fell into my hand—but that's beside the point. If you really want me to leave… I guess I should go back home."

"Oh yeah?" I snapped. "You couldn't figure that out before I chased you all over and reopened a gunshot wound?"

She wrung her hands together nervously. "I, uh—" She sighed and slumped onto the bed. "With James I didn't get to do anything," she whispered. I leaned forward a bit. She'd been overly reluctant to share any information about her time with him. "He wouldn't let me speak or move without his consent and I have this… rage built up."

"There's a punching back in the basement. Go hit it for a couple hours."

"You don't get it!" she yelled in frustration. "I haven't had basic human interaction in months. I spoke to a couple people here and there but other than that I've had nothing." She put her head in her hands and bent forward, the bandages on her side crinkling as she did so. I was envious of her shallow wound. "What can I do to make it up to you?"

"I'd say catch the next flight back to Washington," I said and she grimaced. "But you can't." Our facial expressions were reversed as hope lit up her eyes. "James had some friends, right? Carlisle thinks they'll most likely come after you."

"So I can stay?" she exclaimed.

I carefully folded my arms. "On one condition."

"Anything!"

"Give me a play-by-play of your time with James."

--

I reclined back in bed while the television forced canned laughter into the room. I'd been watching sitcoms for two days with little reprieve. I smelled God awful and had no company besides the television characters and occasionally Bella.

After I'd asked about James she clammed up and left in a hurry. She'd brought in food or batteries for the remote; once in a while she'd clean my clothes or pick up the shit I left lying around. The maids were too afraid to come in after my stint in the hallway.

Bella came in around noon to drop off my lunch and eat with me. As she prepared herself to leave I grabbed her arm and pulled her back down.

"You're staying," I ordered.

She shimmied out of my grip. "Why?"

"I smell like a pig." Her nose wrinkled as I said it. "I can't get my bandages wet so help me wrap it with a garbage bag."

She pulled out a stack of plastic bags and I managed to haul myself from the bed. There was an Edward shaped indent as I looked back. I pressed the button for room service before stiffly moving to the bathroom. I stripped to my boxers and sat in the tub while warm water washed over my legs.

Bella kneeled beside me with a plastic bag and Scotch tape. She shrugged apologetically and began to wrap the bag around my arm. The whole thing reminded me of when I'd first broken my arm and my mother covered me—fingers to elbow—in a thick black trash bag. I'd made finger holes to grasp the shampoo bottle easier and subsequently ruined my cast.

Once the water was up to my waist I handed Bella a washcloth. She looked at me like I had three heads.

"I have to wash you, too?" she asked, offended.

I rolled my eyes. "Remember that making up thing? Or the carpet the hotel staff had to replace because of my blood? Don't get frisky; just get the grime off of me."

"You're lucky I have experience washing dogs," she said. "Just don't shake everywhere when I'm finished."

I rested my arm along the rim of the tub for easier access to my nasty armpits. She stuck out her tongue and turned her face away.

"Since we're stuck here until I'm squeaky clean why don't you start explaining the details of your time with James?" Though I wanted to appear calm and collected my burning curiosity for answers and prying them out of her were spearing my nerve ending.

Bella didn't look up at me. She focused on squirting a glob of shampoo in her hand and slamming it down on my head. The goo made impact soft and I closed my eyes as she rubbed it in. For several seconds we were consumed in awkward silence and the sound of water flowing from the faucet.

"The first time I saw him," she said quietly. "He was at the police station in Forks."

"Back in Washington?" I asked.

"Uh-huh, he was in over night for public intoxication and destruction of property." A cup of water gushed over my head to remove the soap and she quickly worked in conditioner. "My dad tried to make an example out of him for me, referring to him as the kind of person I should avoid. Maybe that's why he decided to take me."

"The last time he was recorded as being incarcerated was three months before he killed his first victim. Why would he build a string of murders and then come after you?"

Her hands shook as she focused herself on getting out the conditioner. "That bastard didn't kill anyone," she ground out.

"Whoa, what?" I sat upright and pulled her hands away. "What the hell do you mean? Of course he killed! The police had been after him for months and all signs pointed toward him!"

She tumbled away from my grasp. "Yeah, well, he didn't kill anyone. He was a coward and a rat bastard. He had his friends do it and lead trails all over the place. I don't even know how you managed to find me. They made all kinds of trails back to Washington."

"The time frame between the gas station appearance and arriving in Washington so quickly didn't make sense," I explained. "So what you're telling me is that the entire time we were after him for murder and he didn't do anything?"

"Yes."

"Why didn't you tell me this sooner!"

She crossed her arms. "You've been a jerk to me and all you do is yell. Why should I have told you anything?"

Spluttering, I stood from the tub, hissing as my shoulder flexed. Bella babbled some shit about not getting all the soap off. I ignored her weak pleas for me to sit back down and relax. Even while I stripped out of my boxers and pulled on clean clothes she tried to wrestle me back to the bathroom.

I'd gone after that bastard thinking he'd been the one creating a string of murders when in reality it was his friends. He was a decoy, someone to throw under the bus when it came barreling down a hill without breaks. I'd gone after a bounty—risked my life—for something that would have been renounced as soon as interrogation started and his friends were linked to the murders.

Bella was pulling on my arm in an effort to stop me from my rampage around the room. I pushed her into the bathroom and barricaded the door. I couldn't deal with her clingy mannerisms when I was heated and ready to just—just lose it.

Immediately my mind worked into overdrive. I'd stupidly thought that with James's death things would be scaled down, but I hadn't been keeping up with murder patterns. I'd been otherwise occupied since coming back to Carlisle's hotel. To think that two other murderers were out there and I'd done nothing to help anyone made me sick to my stomach.

Banging sounded my departure as Bella whaled and screamed for me to come back and let her out. For her to keep something this important from me left the sting of betrayal ripe on my flesh. I understood why she would refuse to rehash her time with James, I understood why she wouldn't let go of my side, I understood why she lashed out and why I was well equipped to handle her mood swings, but why she wouldn't deliver this vital piece of information baffled and angered me.

I didn't bother to knock on Carlisle's door as I threw it open. He sat in his ostentatious Italian leather chair with his assortment of gold pens and detailed paper. I never asked if he was in some kind of mafia. I honestly didn't want to know.

"James didn't kill anyone!" I exclaimed hysterically.

Carlisle's brow furrowed and he started chuckling. "Oh yeah? Those bodies just killed and cut up themselves?"

I threw my good arm down and slapped my palm against his desk while maintaining eye contact. "James never killed anyone. He was a scapegoat the other two used in order to avoid the cops. He was probably never involved with the big stuff, but those other two—can you check to see if there are any new murder patterns?"

He tented his fingers and pursed his lips. The holier-than-though look appeared on his face. "You're not a cop anymore, Edward. This really doesn't concern you. Maybe in a few weeks they'll figure it out, put a warrant for arrest and then a bounty. You'll be the first to know."

"I don't want to wait for the Goddamn bounty! They'll probably come after Bella. She can't go back to where she was when this whole thing happened it would be redundant and who knows what the other two are capable of."

"Bait," Carlisle said evenly.

"What?"

"Use her as bait, Edward. Take her back to Washington, dangle her under their noses and kill them. Do whatever the hell you want in your rest period. Though you'll be good to no one with a bum arm."

"Ha," I spat. "Stop fucking around with my head, Carlisle."

He sat forward to use his computer. Within a couple clicks of his mouse and a second of typed information the printer beside me went off and rolled out two white sheets. Carlisle inclined his head for me to pick them up.

"There ya go," he said. "Two tickets to Washington for tomorrow afternoon. Take her back to town and watch the evil doers come flocking in." He grinned at the end like this was the biggest joke he'd ever made.

"This is completely ridiculous. She's not safe there."

"If we keep her here any longer suspicion will grow when she just appears out of the blue. They know James is dead, they know she was with him and disappeared. Play the role of undercover bodyguard and get inside her intimate family circle."

As crazy as I knew Carlisle was, I still took those damn tickets with me on my way out. I couldn't keep her with me for the rest of her life and she wouldn't leave on her own. If I went with her and eased old life prior to her kidnapping, would Bella just go in and feel comfortable enough with it? She wasn't guaranteed safe until James's girl and associate were gone.

I contemplated the effects and scenarios before borrowing some luggage from the courtesy desk and making my way back to my room.

A/N: Happy Reader Appreciation Day :)

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