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Bella ripped her arm out of Sam Uley's grip, her fingers curling into tight fists. "What'd I tell you about putting your fucking hands on me, Uley?"

"Oh, for fuck sake, Bella, calm down," Sam scoffed, putting his hands up in the air and taking a step back. "I just want to talk."

"Talk?" she asked, shaking her head. "You and I have nothing to talk about."

"You always were a dramatic little bitch," Sam muttered, folding his arms in front of him. "But then I guess given what he put you through, you deserved to be a bitch."

Bella pressed her lips together. There really wasn't much she could say. He'd known the man her father was, he had to have known. He and his partner, Jared Cameron, had been called to the Cullen house too many times, dragged a drunken Charlie home too many times not to have known. Yet he did nothing about it, never helped her, never stopped him, not even he almost killed her.

"Look," Sam started, but when she shook her head, putting her hand up in front of her, he stopped talking.

"You don't get to stand there and talk to me about him. You don't get to talk to me at all, Uley!" she snarled, her chest heaving. "You knew! You fucking knew how he hurt me, yet you didn't stop him!"

Sam frowned, taking another step backward. "I know. I just . . . I didn't think he . . . I thought he was just a drunk, who didn't know how to control himself when he was drinking."

"He was a drunk. You're right about that, but he didn't have to be drunk to put his hands on me," she quipped and leaned against the side of her car. "Why didn't you help me, Uley? How many times did Peter or Charlotte call you and tell you how they could hear him screaming at me? How many times did you show up and find me curled up in a corner, bleeding? How many times did you drag him off their porch after . . . after he beat me until I had broken bones?"

"Too many," he whispered, thickly. "But he wasn't . . . Bella, he wasn't like that all the time. When he was working, he was caring and compassionate."

"But not with me," she cried, moving when he reached for her again. "Don't fucking touch me!"

"Okay, I'm sorry," he said, but before he could say anything else, their attention was pulled to the front door of the house, where Carlisle, Jasper, and Emmett came rushing out with Esme, Alice, and Rosalie staying on the porch. "I'm not here to hurt her!"

But it fell on deaf ears as Carlisle grabbed the front of Sam's shirt, picked him up, and slammed him onto the ground with more force than Bella had thought possible. He reared his arm back to punch him, but Bella grabbed it, pulling Carlisle away. The last thing she wanted was him to go to jail — again — because of her. It wouldn't have been the first time Carlisle had been arrested trying to protect her.

"Stop, Carlisle, stop!" she yelled, pushing him back against her car.

Sam Uley scrambled to his feet, bending over as he tried to catch his breath. "Jesus, fuck, Cullen, I was just talking to her!"

"You shouldn't be anywhere near her, you stupid, arrogant, son-of-a-bitch," Carlisle snarled, trying to get around her, but Jasper and Emmett moved so that they were standing between all of them.

"Everyone needs to calm down!" Emmett yelled, throwing his arms up between them. His eye flickered from her and Carlisle to Sam before he said, "You should get the fuck out of here, Sam, before I let him beat your nuts into your throat."

Sam opened his mouth to speak, but seemed to think better of it, and put his hands up in front of him before he turned and walked away. They watched as he rounded the corner, and a moment later, they saw his deputy truck zip from around said corner, and down the street. Bella blew out a heavy breath as she released her hold on Carlisle, taking several steps backward. Carlisle, Jasper, and Emmett all reached for her, but she shook her head, putting her hands up in front of her. She couldn't handle the feel of anyone's hands on her right then.

"I can't . . . I can't . . ."

Bella pushed Carlisle out of the way and climbed into her car, leaving them standing there. She wasn't sure where she was going, until she found herself parked in the driveway of the big blue house on Manhattan Road. In that moment, the only person she needed, or wanted was Edward.

She had just climbed out of her car when Edward rushed out onto the porch, his cell phone plastered against his ear. "She's here," he said. "I'll check in later."

Edward ended the call, shoving the phone into the pocket of his red and black plaid pajama pants before he walked down the front steps, stopping a couple feet away from her.

"Hey," he murmured. "Heard you had a tough morning."

Bella nodded, tears sprinkling down her face as she wrapped her arms around herself. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have . . . I didn't know where else to go, and I . . . I needed . . . I'm sorry."

Edward closed the distance between them, placing his hands on either side of her face, tilting her head back so he could look her in the eyes. "You're always welcome here, sweetheart. Always."

Unable to keep from sobbing, Bella fell against him. Edward cradled her against him before sliding his arms behind her knees and around her back, lifting her and carrying her into the house, upstairs, and into his bedroom. He laid her on bed, climbed on next to her, and pulled her body against his, holding her as she cried. Again.

—You—

Bella, though exhausted, hadn't been able to sleep, even with Edward holding her. Her tears dried up, and she managed to calm the panic that rose inside of her, though she suspected that had largely to do with the man holding her. The feel of Edward's arms wrapped around her made everything feel better, and that scared her.

"Are you hungry?" Edward whispered, pressing his face against the side of her neck.

"No," she murmured. "I can make you something, though. If . . . if you're hungry."

"I'm a little hungry," he admitted, leaning up on his elbow. "How about if I make myself a quick sandwich and we sit out back? You can tell me what happened this morning."

Bella opened her mouth to argue with him, but then clamped her lips shut and nodded. The look of relief that spread over his face didn't go unnoticed and she worried that she had become too reliant on him. Was that her M.O.? Leaning on men to take care of her, to keep her from falling apart?

"No," he said, frowning as he sat up, twisting so that he could place his hand on the side of her face. "No, sweetheart."

"I . . ." Bella sighed, pulling herself out of his arms and climbing off the bed. Leave it to her to voice her inner ramblings. "I don't . . . I thought I was coming back for closure, Edward. I was . . . I was going to get him set up with hospice, tell him how much I hate him, how he hurt me, and go back to L.A. And then I got here, I saw him, and he smiles and calls me by my name, says he's sorry, and now I can't leave until I know he's dead.

"Then you kissed me, and you have me feeling . . . feeling alive and wanted and needed for the first time in . . . in so long, and I don't know. I just . . ."

Bella shook her head as she turned and sat on the side of the bed. "Sam Uley was outside Carlisle's house this morning when I was leaving to go to the funeral home. He grabbed my arm, and I . . . I don't know, I just . . . He admitted that he knew that my father was abusing me. Said he was just a drunk though, like that excused what he did to me? He was a good cop, so let's excuse the fact that he broke my arm when I was six, and again at seven. Or my legs at three and nine, or that by the time I became a teenager, I'd had more concussions than a football player."

"Sam Uley touched you?"

Bella looked over her shoulder, finding him staring at her with a tight jaw. "He grabbed my arm."

His eyes closed and he scrambled off the bed, grabbing his jeans off the chair in the corner. He tossed them on the bed and reached for the waistband of his pajamas when she gasped, scrambling off the bed.

"Where are you going?"

He stopped and looked up at her. "I'm going to go find Sam Uley and kick his ass."

She stared at him for a solid three seconds before she burst out laughing.

"What's so funny?" he asked, chuckling.

"Nothing," she snorted. "I just . . . I don't need you to go kick Uley's ass, Edward. I just . . . I don't know. I guess everything just kind of hit me all at once, and I needed . . . I needed you."

Edward's grin grew. "You need me?"

Bella nodded, inhaling a sharp breath as he started walking around the bed. "So much it . . . it scares me, needing you like this."

"It scares me, too," he whispered, stopping when he was standing in front of her. He slid his hands onto her hips, pulling her body against his once more. "Bella."

"Kiss me," she whispered.

The words were barely out of her mouth before his lips were pressed against hers. Bella moaned, her hands threading into his hair. Edward slid his hands from her hips, around to her ass, lifting her and laying her back onto the bed. He climbed on top of her, his lips never leaving hers.

Bella gasped for air as Edward moved his lips down her neck, pulling her shirt to the side so he can attack her shoulder, the top of her chest. "Edward," she moaned, tugging on his hair.

He leaned backward, his chest heavying, his eyes wide with desire. "Bella."

"Touch me," she whispered. "Please, just . . . I need you to . . . to touch me."

Edward pressed his mouth against hers again, his hand sliding down her side, across her stomach to the button on her jeans. Her heart was racing as he popped the bottom and lowered her zipper. He leaned back and looked her straight in the eye as his hand slipped inside her panties, down to the throbbing apex between her thighs.

"Jesus fuck," he growled. Fucking growled, and it turned Bella on even more than she already was. "You're fucking wet!"

"For you," she panted. "You make me wet, Edward. Please!"

"Are you sure?" he asked, and she saw the doubt, the fear in her eyes.

"About you? I've never been more sure about anything than I am about you, Edward."

The smile that spread on his face was priceless, just before his lips found hers again. In a frenzy, they had each other's clothes off, and with his hand curving around the outside of her thigh, he lined himself up with her, and pressed himself inside her.

"Oh, my God," she breathed.

"You okay?" he asked.

She nodded. "Just . . . just been a long time."

"For me, too, sweetheart," he whispered. "I . . ."

But before he said something she wasn't sure she was ready to hear, she leaned up, pressing her lips against his once more. Slowly, almost too slow, their bodies moved against each other's. Filling and taking, needing and wanting, giving into each other, letting the other love their bodies.

"I'm not going to last, sweetheart," Edward gasped, his body slamming against hers in the most spectacular way.

"Me . . . either," she gasped, clawing at his shoulders, trying to pull him even more on top of her. "Edward, I . . . I . . ."

Her back arched off the bed, into him as her climax washed over her, causing her to tremble from her fingers to her toes and everywhere in between.

"Oh, shit, oh fuck," Edward groaned, dipping his head into the crevasse between her shoulder and her neck as his own orgasm hit and he spilled himself inside her.

She could feel the warmth of his breath on her skin, but before either of them could say anything, talk about the step they had just taken, the sound of the front door opening and closing had them looking at each other before scrambling off the bed in search of their clothes.

Bella had just managed to pull her shirt over her head when she heard a woman say, "I'm just going to peek in on him. I won't wake him," before the door to Edward's bedroom opened, and his mother stood there, staring at her in just a shirt and Edward in just his boxer briefs.

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