A/N Stephenie Meyer owns all. I just own a new set of awesome exam results that made me squeal and a very pretty scarf from Camden market.

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CHAPTER SEVEN

Previously (JPOV)

"What is it, Edward? This is really bad fucking timing."

"It's Bella." I froze, shocked at hearing the undercurrent of panic in Edward's voice, my desire and anger dissolving away. I'd known him since we were teenagers and he'd never sounded like this. Alice reacted to the change in my body language and stared up at me with concern now.

I spoke slowly, deliberately. "What's wrong with her?"

I heard him gulp, he sounded like he was on the verge of hyperventilating. "I can't wake her up, Jasper. She hit her head a few hours ago, it was bleeding and she was sick... She seemed okay though, knew who she was and the disorientation was minimal. But now...she just won't wake up. What the fuck do I do?"

~ * ~

EPOV

I could almost hear Jasper freezing at my words and the creak of bed springs and the rustle of cloth as he moved.

I'm sure he had a hundred questions, but all he barked was, "Hang on." Sound was muffled as he covered the mouthpiece, but I could still hear him speaking to Alice. "Edward's with a witness - sounds like she has a head injury and he can't wake her and the hospital is too dangerous."

Alice came on the line then, her bird-like tone abruptly clipped and professional. Not for the first time I was so grateful and proud that my sister had decided to become a doctor, and I gradually felt the rising panic fade as I buried myself back into the stoic mask I'd long-since perfected.

"Edward? Tell me what's going on."

"Alice," I sighed. I gave a brief rundown of Bella's symptoms and injury, describing the disorientation and nausea and the fact that she'd fallen asleep a little over two hours ago.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" she hissed, the phone almost twitching with her agitation. "You know better than anyone the first rule when dealing with a head injury is not to let them go to sleep!"

I groaned and ran my hands furiously through my hair. "I know, I know - but she was so fucking tired and pale, I thought it would be okay if I let her sleep and then woke her up in a couple of hours."

I could almost hear the sarcastic comeback threatening to bubble off Alice's tongue, but the urgency of the situation restrained her.

"Have you checked her vitals?"

"She's breathing, a little slow but evenly. Pulse seems slow but still strong."

"What's her BPM?"

"I haven't checked."

Alice sighed in exasperation. "Check the carotid artery in her neck. Start counting beats when I tell you." I obeyed, stopping the count at twenty-three when she told me to after what felt like about thirty seconds.

"Forty-six beat per minute," she mused. "It's slower than I'd like, but still within the normal range for the someone sleeping. How's her colour?"

I examined Bella. She was pale, but then her whole body was unusually white for someone living in Arizona - like light cream. She wasn't chalky like she had been before and there was the slightest hint of her pink her cheeks. "It's okay, I think."

"Okay, Edward, now I need you to try and wake her. Press on her sternum firmly - but not too hard, you don't want to break her."

I frowned into the phone. "Her sternum? What the fuck -"

"Her breastbone, jackass! You know, the bit between her boobs - I know it's been a while but surely you remember what those are? We were in the same biology class."

I growled at her sarcasm but did at she asked, pressing tentatively at first and then more firmly. "Nothing," I snapped. "Any more brilliant ideas, Alice?"

"Don't be an asshole - I'm the one with the MD, Edward, you're just the one with the gun. Do you have a torch, or a penlight or something?"

I crossed the room and pulled my keys from my jacket pocket, quickly locating the miniature penlight key ring hanging there. "Yes."

"Lift her eyelids up and shine the light in each of her eyes. Watch the pupils carefully."

I knelt on the bed beside Bella, her form dipping into me as I compressed the mattress springs, and carefully lifted her right eyelid. It was disturbing to see her chocolate brown orbs with no recognition or spark in them, and my gut clenched uncomfortably. Pushing it aside I shined the light directly into her eye, watching as the pupil shrunk down to a small dot. I did the same with the other eye, relieved to see an identical reaction.

"Both pupils constrict equally to the light. That's good, right?"

"Yes, that's good." Alice sounded calmer now, less stressed. "It sounds like she has a grade two concussion, maybe a grade three. Unless you want to take her to the hospital there's nothing you can do but monitor her and let her rest."

"But you said not to let her sleep."

"Well, it's a bit late for that now considering she's already unconscious!"

I exhaled slowly and pinched the bridge of my nose with my hand. She was going to be fine - I just had to wait for her to wake up. "Thank you, Alice."

"No problem. I'll hand you back to Jasper."

I heard fumbling and soft murmurs, then Jasper came back on the line. He also sounded calmer now, clearly having been listening to the emergency consult with his wife. "Where are you now, Edward?"

"In a motel about three hours north of Phoenix."

"You need to get back on the road. You're sitting ducks there, and Alice assures me that it will make no difference to Bella whether she's resting in a bed or in a car. Just recline the seat and check on her regularly. Right?"

"Right." It was true - Jasper was right, it was far too dangerous to sit here waiting for the Volturi to find us. Focus on the reality - there's nothing I can do but watch her sleep and wait for her to come round. May as well do it from the front seat of a car. "I'll be on the road in five minutes. I'll be in touch."

"Sure thing, Edward. Check in before nine." He clicked off and the line went dead.

~ * ~

The dead buzz of the telephone line burrowed into my ear. With a low curse I thrust the phone back into my pocket, slipping the shoulder holster back on before I redressed into my jacket. It was specially tailored to Alice's design, carefully concealing the presence of weapons beneath the hemline.

I checked Bella's breathing and pulse once again, then hurried out of the door and dashed across to the office. The whole time as I returned the key and scrawled a fake name into the book my eye-line was locked on the door to our cabin, ready to end anyone who approached.

I jogged across the parking lot back towards our room, scooping our meagre belongings up and hurrying to put them into the Porsche. Then I returned for her, still shaken to see that she didn't stir as I lifted her into my arms and placed her carefully into the front seat. I cranked the chair back once again, tilting her onto her side facing me so that she wouldn't choke if she was sick again, and also so that I could see her face as I drove.

I shifted the stick like a man possessed, hurtling the vehicle out of the motel and back into the freeway in a blur of scorched tires. I checked the mirrors and the blind spots compulsively for at least half an hour until I gradually started to relax, confident that we'd evaded our pursuers for now.

I looked at her constantly, relishing each increment of colour that grew upon her peaches and cream complexion. Each rise and fall of her chest that reassured she me was still breathing. After a few miles my mind turned to other matters, the events of the last hour rolling over me relentlessly.

Why had I reacted like that? It wasn't the first time I'd seen blood, it certainly wasn't the first time I'd seen a client fade and falter before me. I'd been in this life for nearly nine years and in that time I'd witnessed countless gun shots - mine and others - brutal car crashes, desperate choked pleas, and I'd seen far too many people die. Yet, with her...it seemed different, somehow. More real.

I rode long and hard, my eyes locked on the highway unfolding before us as we fled from Phoenix. A couple of times I stopped the car and pulled over on the hard shoulder, checking her pulse rate and her pupils, before restarting our journey towards the north.

It wasn't until the sky was lightening with the first signs of the rising sun that she stirred. I glanced at her anxiously as her fingertips curled and clenched and a low moan escaped her lips. I called her name, but there was no response.

The sun rose in a blinding explosion against my right window, shocking ribbons of orange and yellow blurring into the birth of a new day. I reached into the glove compartment and found a pair of large men's sunglasses, a little too designer for my taste but functional enough all the same. I slipped them on and carried on driving.

Just before eight a.m. she shivered and moved in her seat, delicate hands reaching up to cup her eyes as she shifted around in her seat to face forward. The relief I felt was like a kick to the guts and I almost lost focus on the road as I watched her.

"Bella?"

For endless moments there was no response, and I feared she was still asleep. Then, soft and croaky with dehydration, "Edward?"

My knuckles on the steering wheel were white with tension, but at the sound of her voice every muscle within me relaxed as if at a hypnotist's command. I released the pent-up breath I wasn't even aware I was holding. "Bella? Can you hear me?"

She groaned and nodded, then winced at the movement. I fought the urge to grin, to laugh like a giddy schoolboy. She opened her eyes the barest crack, then slammed her lids back down immediately.

"Does the light hurt your eyes?" The Arizona sun was building up to full-force now. She didn't answer, just nodded her head minutely. I immediately pulled the borrowed sunglasses from my face and carefully slipped them over her nose, keeping a half-eye on the road as I situated them behind the shell of her ears.

She looked absurd and painfully fragile in the over-large sunglasses. "Thanks," she whispered, her voice still dry.

"There's water in the glove compartment."

She fumbled forward, popping the button and grasping the bottle. No doubt it was warm by now but she gulped the liquid down greedily, shivering and shaking as she paused, then downed some more. Neither of us said a word for a long while.

"Where are we?" she croaked.

I checked the display on the dashboard. "About an hour away from Vegas."

She snorted, but the familiar sarcastic timbre in her voice was there, albeit still throaty and pained. "I'm not really up to a game of Texas Hold 'Em right now, maybe later, hmm?"

I rolled my eyes. "Don't worry, the gambling can be saved for the next trip down. Right now we need new transportation and ID." I cursed myself once again for the stupidity of leaving all our shit in my Volvo, overly-confident that she'd reach me at the Plaza.

Bella laughed, then winced, cradling her head in her palms. "My head hurts. Do you have any pain meds?"

Regretfully I shook my head, then realised her head was still tilted down and she couldn't see me. "Sorry, no. It was all in the other car. We'll meet our rendezvous soon - he'll have a full kit with him, you'll feel better then."

She nodded, still curling her face into her palms. I drove on, glancing at her sporadically. The passenger seat was tilted far back and she reached the lever to put it upright, fumbling with the plastic. I leaned over and helping her, but the seat snapped forward unexpectedly and slammed into her back. She lurched forward, startled, emitting a small "ow!"

"Sorry!" I blurted, looking at her frantically, half-expecting her to pass out again. She looked at me with initial annoyance, then consternation as she saw my horrified expression. Then she started giggling, a melodic buzz of humour that involuntarily drew a smile from me. Lower, softer, I murmured, again, "Sorry."

She smirked and drank some more water. "Don't worry about it."

~ * ~

The scenery whipped by in a whirl of hot desert air and dry sunshine. The air con in the Porsche was disappointedly unimpressive, and eventually Bella just unwound her window halfway down and cranked open the sunroof, silently daring me to argue with her. I smiled to myself as the wind whipped a whirlwind within the cabin and didn't say a word.

Cacti cast spiky silhouettes along the freeway as we drove, and I was transfixed with watching Bella's fascination with them. We spoke very little, exchanging only functional words and brief questions on her health.

Eventually she began fiddling with the radio, skipping through various stations until she found music she liked. I was amused to see she listened to Muse, Jason Mraz and The Shins as easily as she tuned into The Cranberries and Iron & Wine. She sang along to the songs she knew softly, a gentle cadence that complemented the wind buffeting through the vehicle.

I couldn't help but chuckle when she found a station playing Deana Carter's Strawberry Wine. She glared at me, daring me to argue. "Problem, Edward?"

I smirked, shaking my head. "I just never pegged you as a country 'n' western fan."

She rolled her eyes, turning the volume up. "I'm not, usually, but this song is awesome. So shut your face and don't ruin it for me."

I watched her, absorbed as she unwound her window fully and ducked her head out into the slipstream, hair blowing and tangling in the breeze, her hand undulating like a dolphin's trail over the waves as she traced the wind across her skin.

I looked at her curiously, transfixed by her movements. Her eyes were closed as the gale tossed her hair back behind her like she was diving through water.

I bit my tongue a dozen times, but I had to know. My curiosity was insatiable. "What are you doing?"

She grinned, but didn't open her eyes, didn't retract into the car. "I love the wind. When I was little Charlie would drive down to La Push with the windows open and our dogs, Jacob and Sam, would stick their heads out of the window and let their tongues loll in the breeze." She giggled, and the tinkling melodic sound made my fingers twitch to touch her. "Since I was little I'd always copy them. I just love the rush of air, it makes me feel free. Like I'm daring and adventurous, diving down a cliff face or riding a roller-coaster." She blushed then and glanced at me through her lashes, shyly. "I know it sounds stupid."

I grinned at her. "So you like roller-coasters?"

She blushed prettily and nodded. "I don't know why. It would drive my friends insane - I'd badger them endlessly to come ride me with, then the second the carriage started clicking to the summit I'd always start screaming and change my mind, demanding they let me off." She giggled again, and I had to tighten my grip on the steering wheel.

She continued, her voice thoughtful now. "It sounds kind of crazy, but I always searched for that, you know, the feeling that I was living a life less ordinary? I just wanted some excitement, some validation that I was more than a standard pleb trudging through the capitalist machine. And when I'm at the top of a roller-coaster, about to scream down...it makes me feel alive."

I didn't answer her for I had no answer to give. I ached, wishing I'd met her when she was a blushing, innocent teen begging for acceptance and validation that her life was more than an accident of organic chemistry. God, how I wished that I had met her before she'd met him. Took her on a roller-coaster and held her hand.

Was that why she'd said yes to his proposal - her endless mission for meaning, for a life less ordinary?

Before long she drew her head back into the Porsche and a wide yawn split her jaws. She rested her head back on the seat, eyes heavy and hooded. A shadow of my earlier alarm captured me, the memory of her lying splayed and loose-limbed without life on the sheets.

I needed to keep her awake. Conversation seemed the easiest way. What to discuss?

"Tell me about Demetri."

The question escaped me, rocketing from my throat before my mental filter had time to haul it back and beat it into submission.

She looked shocked. Shit. Why did I have to ask that? Not only was it none of my goddamn business, but I always did my job better without the emotional connection, when I could just view the clients as packages to be delivered safe from transit. That was all she was - a package. A cute, deliciously fragrant package, but a package nonetheless.

I expected her to scowl and shut down. But she surprised me yet again, giving me a guarded look that belied the openness of her words.

"Okay. What do you want to know?"

~ * ~

So who wants to know? Share your theories with me!

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