Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight, duh.

Leash Laws

Chapter 4

EPOV

The beautiful brunette's sexy sashay as she left the park occupied my conscious thoughts all the way through my post-run shower. Try as I might, I couldn't get het expressive brown eyes out of my head. It was eating at me that I didn't even know her name. I did, however, make acquaintances with her strangely intuitive mammoth of a dog. I figured that, if anything, was a starting place. As I toweled myself dry I vowed to myself that I would run every day in Ellis Park until I saw her again. I simply had to know who she was.

I mulled over everything that I'd seen that morning while I read the headlines of the Chicago Sun Times. This woman had an intensity about her that I'd never encountered before. It unnerved me how protective I felt about her without having even met her, and I couldn't suppress the strange unease I felt at being separated from her—what the hell was happening to me? I threw down the paper being completely unable to focus on the words on the page and ran my hand through my messy hair, a habit I'd developed in undergrad in response to any kind of stress. Why the hell was I stressing, anyways?

I groaned and put my face in my hands. Fucking women.

My frustration and avid fascination with the mystery girl only seemed to increase as my morning passed. So much so that I found myself pacing in my living room. I stopped abruptly when I realized what I was doing to myself. Usually I would channel whatever frustrations I had into my music, playing them out on my piano. But it hadn't yet arrived from Chicago and I was left empty-handed and feeling completely marooned in my angst. I decided to preoccupy myself by organizing my massive music collection, blaring DeBussy from my new stereo as I carefully placed each CD in a specific location on my wall-spanning shelf. I quickly found myself lost in the task, which was a surprisingly sufficient therapy in my piano's absence. I was so focused on what I was doing that I nearly jumped out of my skin when my cell phone vibrated angrily against my left calf.

"HELLO?" I attempted to yell over the blaring symphony, but failed, so I reached over to turn it off.

"EDWARD?!" Emmett's voice came crashing through the receiver just as silence filled my apartment and I winced and held the phone away from my ear. I was slightly afraid of the fact that I might have just sustained significant hearing damage.

"Jesus, Emmett!" I switched my phone to the other ear and began to poke at the injured ear in an attempt to stimulate any sort of sound reception, " I'm here. What's up?"

"Get your pretty-boy ass down here to the station, there's some guys you need to meet!" Emmett laughed loudly into the phone.

I groaned loudly. I had no intention of spending even more time with Emmett's half-brained co-workers, I thought the cookout I was attending this evening would be more than enough torture for an evening.

"Do I have to?" I whined.

"What are you, four?" Typical.

"Very mature, Emmett." I growled. My mood was growing darker by the second.

"I could say the same for you, Eddie-boy!" Emmett chuckled and I heard the rustling of paper. He was probably already downtown.

"Can't I just wait to meet them in a few hours? I mean, I'll be seeing them this afternoon, right? Why prolong my suffering?" I was whining again, but I didn't care.

"Edward, you are such a drama queen. You're meeting some of my friends, Edward, not co-workers." I could tell his patience with my arrogance was wearing thin. He sighed into the phone, "We'll only be here at the station for an hour, and then I'll drive you over to Alice's place so you can meet the gang. I just wanted you to come in to meet some of the guys—you know, the people you'll be working with in just a few days? Or did your new job slip your mind? I thought you were supposed to be smarter than me, Ivy-leaguer." Emmett's booming laughter filled the room I was sitting in, notifying me that I was forgiven for being a complete ass.

Jesus, he was loud.

I was embarrassed at my behavior, and glad that Emmett had called me out on it. I could always count on him to be honest.

"I'll be there in five. Try not to break any furniture between now and then." I smirked into the phone.

"You break one chair at a frat party…" Emmett muttered as I hung up the phone. I chuckled a bit at the memory. Emmett, being ridiculously intoxicated, tried to jump into an open chair. Being as massive as he was, the chair splintered and he found himself on his ass in a pile of woodchips.

My reminiscing carried me to the parking garage, where I easily slid into my new Volvo and turned onto the street and sped towards the station. I arrived in less than three minutes. I stepped out of my car and hurried into the metropolitan police building. I climbed two flights of stairs and made my way to the always-busy main floor. I hadn't ever been here before so I stopped at what looked like a secretary's desk to ask for some directional help.

"Excuse me, miss?" I inquired politely.

A curly-haired brunette looked up at me, her eyes going wide at my appearance. She appeared to be flustered but pulled herself together after a second or two.

"Can I help you?" She asked sweetly, though her tone made me somewhat nauseous.

"I'm looking for Detective McCarty, could you point me towards his office?" I smiled at her, knowing it would help my cause.

"S-sure," she stammered. It had worked, "He's down the hall to your right," She said, pointing towards an open hallway, "third door on your left." She smiled at me again, and I returned the gesture.

"Thanks."

"If you need anything else, just let me know." Her voice was thick with implications and she batted her eye-lashes at me. I fought back the bile building in my throat. Didn't these women know what class was?

I turned quickly and headed towards Emmett's office, hearing him before I could see him. I was surprised that the force hadn't soundproofed his office yet. I knocked lightly on the door before entering, knowing that he couldn't hear me.

Emmett was sitting behind a large desk chatting animatedly with someone on the phone. I could tell that they were discussing one of the many large cases Emmett handled, so I politely turned my attentions away from the conversation. I studied the pictures he had hanging on his wall while he finished his conversation. There was a picture of him and I from our graduation from undergrad, a picture of his parents, and a picture of Emmett with two other people, a man and a woman, who looked like they were glowing, and sitting beside them was the large dog I'd encountered this morning. I couldn't believe my eyes. What was the dog's name again? Duke. Duke was sitting besides the short, pixie-like female with his mouth open and tongue hanging lazily out, like he was smiling at the camera.

How in the hell does Emmett know Duke?

Oh. Oh.

Emmett knows her. Emmett knows her.

I spun on my heel to face him just as he hung up the phone.

"Who is she?" I demanded hastily, pointing at the picture.

"Oh, that? That's Alice. The guy to her left is her boyfriend Jasper." He said, looking at the picture at which I was pointing.

"No, not her," I dismissed the dark-haired girl quickly, anxious to find out the identity of the girl who had so easily captured my attention, "her," I said, pointing to the dog.

"Uh, that's Duke. And he's definitely not a girl." Emmett shook his head and chuckled.

"No, not the dog, you idiot. Who is the dog's owner?!" I half-yelled. I definitely needed to calm down. I didn't think that last sentence was even coherent.

"Who is who?" Nope, definitely not coherent.

Emmett scratched the back of his head and looked at me, confused. I was agitated that he hadn't answered my question in a manner I felt was acceptable, but I couldn't let my impatience get the best of me. Emmett stood and walked out into the hallway. I followed him.

"Who is Duke's owner, Emmett?" I repeated my question, slowly this time, hoping to at least get her name.

Emmett opened his mouth to respond but was cut off when the door to the main floor burst open, smacking against the wall with such force that some of the drywall fell to the floor in a powdery mess. The entire room went silent as all eyes fell upon whoever it was that had caused the commotion.

I heard Emmett suck in a gasp of air.

There, standing in the doorway, was a leggy blonde with a body that rivaled most supermodels. This woman was wearing a skin tight red satin dress with a short skirt and low neckline. It left absolutely nothing to the imagination. It was clear that she was beautiful, almost inhumanly so, but that wasn't what was so shocking.

One of her heels was broken, and her entire body was covered in bruises and bloodied cuts, some of which were still openly bleeding. Her dress was torn in multiple places, putting on display some of the lacey lingerie she was wearing underneath it. One of her wrists was sitting at an awkward angle, and a few of her fingers were in the same position. Her ankle was swollen beneath the straps of her stiletto, it was clear that walking in them was causing her pain. I slowly brought my eyes to her face, which was in the same, if not worse shape, than the rest of her body. One of her eyes was nearly swollen shut, with the outlines of a black-eye already forming. Her lip was split in three places, and blood was dripping down her face from a cut in her left eyebrow. What was most frightening, beneath the bloodied exterior, were her eyes. They were on fire, though I couldn't tell if it was from fear or anger, and she was trembling violently in succession with the ferocity in her eyes.

The entire room stood in complete silence by the time I'd finished my assessment. Her eyes flickered from person to person, settling finally on the curly-haired brunette sitting at the desk directly in front of her.

"I want Swan." The blonde's voice was low and venomous, but the secretary didn't move. She simply gaped at the bruised and battered woman that stood in front of her. The blonde narrowed her eyes at the woman.

"Are you deaf, or are you really just as stupid as you look?" She spat mercilessly, "I said, I want Swan." Her voice was still dangerously low, but the secretary still didn't move. She was beginning to shake under the blonde's judgmental gaze.

The blonde took a step forward and slammed her good hand down on the desk. "NOW, DAMNIT!" She roared. The secretary squeaked and nearly fell out of her chair and began clumsily trying to punch the correct numbers into the phone. A dirty-blonde haired officer attempted to approach her with his hand held out to touch her shoulder. Clearly, this idiot couldn't read body language. When he got within two feet of her, she wheeled around to face him, fury lighting every single one of her features.

"Stay away from me." She barely breathed out the sentence, but it was clear the officer got the message. He backed away slowly and then turned on his heel down an empty hallway, retreating in what looked like a bathroom. If I were a betting man, I'd say he was off to have a good cry.

The blonde attempted to compose herself, but it was clear that she was visibly shaken. She tried to inconspicuously wipe a tear from her eye, but I caught it. Emmett and I exchanged a loaded glance, and I knew that he had caught it, too.

This time, Emmett decided to intervene. He took a few hesitant steps towards the blonde, and she shot him a glare, stopping him in his tracks. He held his hands up in the air, signaling his surrender, and continued forward slowly. He shrugged out of his sport coat, which he was wearing over a plain white t-shirt and jeans, and held it out towards her. She looked from him to the jacket multiple times and rubbed her bare arm self-consciously. It was as if she'd just become aware of the fact that she was wearing next to nothing. Emmett held it out to her, to help her into it, but she snatched it out of his hands before he took another step. He immediately froze, never taking his eyes off of the woman as she hastily put it on, wincing as she pulled it over her broken fingers and wrist. This did not go unnoticed by Emmett, who clenched his jaw and squeezed his fists out of anger towards whoever had laid a finger on the woman standing in front of him.

When she finally turned her attention back to Emmett, he opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off.

"I want to talk to Swan." She said, but her voice was much less firm than it was before, and there was not a trace of anger in her voice. It seemed as though her fear was getting the best of her. Emmett nodded and pulled out his cell phone, most likely to dial Swan. The conversation was quick and hushed, though I did notice Emmett smile once or twice through the conversation. I wondered what kind of a relationship he had with my new boss as he hung up the phone.

"Twenty minutes," was all that he said when he had put his phone back in its place on his belt. The blonde nodded, still shaking.

Emmett held out his hand in front of him. "Emmett McCarty." He'd dropped the title of detective in his impromptu introduction, though I couldn't figure out why.

The blonde eyed him suspiciously, but her face had softened tremendously. She looked exhausted and terrified. All traces of anger were long since gone. "I want to talk to Swan," She whispered, her voice breaking. Emmett's hand remained in front of her, and he waited patiently for her to reciprocate. Her apprehension was apparent. I was about to step in on her behalf when she raised her broken wrist to shake Emmett's hand. He looked at her injured wrist and took another step forward, closing the gap between them. He reached forward with his extended hand to take a closer look at her wrist. She took a step backwards. Emmett froze, locking eyes with her, and took another slow step forward. This time, the blonde didn't move, but left her injured arm raised, never taking her eyes away from him.

"Emmett McCarty," he said again, gingerly taking her wrist in between his massive hands, treating it as if it was glass.

"Rosalie Hale" she whispered with tear-filled eyes, "And I want to t-talk t-to S-S-Swan." Her composure and posture collapsed simultaneously, and she fell into Emmett's arms, sobbing hysterically. He lifted her off her feet and carried her down a hallway begging me with his eyes to follow. Rosalie continued to cry into his shoulder as Emmett took a seat in a chair in the last room at the end of the hall. He stroked her hair soothingly and turned towards me, speaking softly.

"Edward, find Quil and tell him to come back here. I need someone to stand guard of this door that I know is on the inside." I nodded, though I didn't understand his cryptic instructions. "Once you've done that, call Dr. Carlisle Cullen down at the hospital. Tell him we've got another one and that he should come fully prepared, she's the worst I've ever seen of them." Again, I nodded. I placed my hand on his free shoulder in as comforting a manner as possible before quietly slipping out the door.

I went to the secretary's desk and asked for Quil's location as well as the number for the doctor Emmett had requested. The doctor was kind, and said that he'd get to the station in about a half hour. I found Quil and sent the message along with him Emmett. I decided to take a seat in one of the empty chairs and wait for the doctor so that I could escort him back to where Emmett and Rosalie were.

I found myself daydreaming yet again about the mysterious brunette. I didn't have the heart to be annoyed at Emmett for not being able to answer my inquiries about her, but I was even more frustrated than before. I was so close to having the information that I wanted…

BANG!

The door swung open again, interrupting me from my thoughts. A whirlwind of brown, cream, and yellow flew through the foyer and straight over to the secretary's desk. I froze. It was her. Her brow was furrowed as if deep in thought as she sauntered sexily over to where the curly-haired woman sat. My body reacted automatically and I shifted uncomfortably as I watched her. Her long brown hair was curled and fell casually down her back around her shoulders. Her dress wasn't low cut, but gave me a decent view of her chest as she bent forward to speak with the secretary. I shook my head to get rid of the thought—I was trying to be a gentleman. Which was difficult considering she was easily the most beautiful creature I'd ever laid my eyes on. My memory of this morning simply didn't do her justice. I continued to watch her in fascination and awe.

She briefly questioned the secretary, whose name I discovered through my eavesdropping was Jessica, and went to pacing wildly in front of Emmett's office door with tensed shoulders and wringing her hands. She was beautiful. I couldn't take my eyes off her. Again, as if sensing my gaze, she paused, and looked up from the floor and searched the office with her eyes. Before her eyes scanned where I was currently sitting, the dirty-blonde haired idiot of whom ran cowering from Rosalie wrapped his arms around her waist. She stiffened in his arms, as if exceedingly uncomfortable, but then smiled happily.

My heart plummeted. Of course someone like her would already be taken. By an ignorant fool, but taken none-the less. I felt slightly nauseated as I watched her purr into his ear. The officer's eyes widened and he took a tiny step backwards, as if caught off guard. The brunette's smile broadened.

I couldn't understand what was going on.

All of a sudden, my mystery woman whipped herself around in the dirty-blonde's arms and wrenched his wrist up behind his back, forcefully pushing him into the wall. She kicked his legs apart and reached between his legs and grabbed a hold of—

Mother of God! That should be illegal!

I flinched subconsciously at whatever she was currently doing to the police officer who had so clearly offended her. She was hissing something in his ear fiercely, her emotions clearly expressed in her eyes. She was angry, to say the least. Although livid might be a more appropriate term. She stiffened suddenly and turned around. When she saw that the entire office was watching her display, she blushed furiously, as if embarrassed at being caught. She apparently didn't like the attention.

The dirty-blonde wriggled under her firm grasp, calling her attention back towards him. She slammed him forcefully against the wall with her forearm and began to hiss at him again. Her voice was too low for me to hear, though I tried. I turned to the left and saw Emmett beaming at her with pride. He winked at me and signaled for me to stay quiet through the entire ordeal. I nodded and smirked. Apparently whatever this guy had done, he'd deserved it. I watched as his face paled and he nodded furiously, resulting in a genuine smile from the brunette as she released him. He scuttled away to the bathroom again, either out of fear or embarrassment, but I suspected the latter.

I watched her as she smoothed down her patterned dress and returned to pacing.

"I'm pretty sure Jasper told you not to make anyone cry today." Emmett boomed across the office. The brunette smiled largely and turned towards the sound of his voice.

"I would think that sexual assault serves as some sort of an exception to that particular instruction, don't you?" She quipped, still smiling and joining Emmett in his laughter.

Emmett winked at her, "The only one who was assaulted was Mike."

The brunette rolled her eyes at him. At least she knows not to take Emmett seriously…

"Oh, please. I hardly touched the guy. It's not my fault he wasn't adequately trained in hand-to-hand combat." She laughed. I swallowed roughtly.

Hand to hand combat? What was this girl, G.I. Jane?

"Bella, you and I both know that no amount of training could have prepared him for that. He didn't stand a chance!"

Bella. Her name was Bella. It was so befitting… I missed her response because I was so absorbed in drinking in the fact that I now knew her name. Well, her first name, at least. That was a place to start.

"What? Oh, right." Emmett blushed, and Bella raised an eyebrow at him, obviously intrigued by his reaction. "Follow me." And with that, he led her down the back hallway towards where he had left Rosalie only minutes earlier. I was confused, but I thought that maybe she was a social worker and Rosalie was underage. Not that she looked underage…

I decided I had to take matters into my own hands. I walked casually towards the desk where the secretary, Jessica, had her face in a smut-filled two dollar romance novel.

I cleared my throat loudly, causing her to jump.

"Can I help you?" She blushed as she attempted to sneakily stow away the book she'd just been reading.

"Yes, could you tell me something?" I smiled at her, hoping to charm the answer out of her. She looked a bit dazed for a minute and then smiled back.

"Depends on what it is," she said throatily. I fought back the urge to vomit at her obvious flirtation, but I needed her help. I swallowed my pride.

I leaned forward towards her, her eyes widened slightly and she pushed her arms together in an attempt to puff up her chest.

"Could you tell me the name of that woman?" I asked sweetly, my face inches from the secretary's. I pointed towards the hallway where Bella and Emmett had just exited. The secretary's eyes narrowed.

"Oh her?" She sneered and took a particular interest in the current state of her finger nails, "That's Isabella Swan."

"Swan?" I pressed, was she related to my new boss?

"Yeah, she's the new D.A., the prosecutor. Emmett must have called her in on a case. Most likely that nutcase that was in here hollering just a little while ago…" Jessica continued to babble but I'd tuned her out.

Isabella Swan. As in Prosecutor Swan. That was my mystery woman, who'd completely filled every thought I'd had all morning. That was the person I'd been day-dreaming about.

I ran my fingers through my hair and swore loudly.

She's my fucking boss.

Oh, Christ.

Hey guys! Sorry it's been a while since my last update, but we've had mid-terms and I'm crazy busy!

I hope you enjoyed the chapter!

As always, read and review! I accept flames, anonymous reviews... basically anything! I would love some constructive criticism!

xo auteurinconnu