A/N Twilight series and all recognisable characters are owned by Stephenie Meyer. I just love messing with them.

So sorry for the update fail, new job and new place to live. Just saying. Updates will be more frequent now :)

PLEASE READ: So I've made a bit of a continuity error with this story and made a big error in Chapter 5, which I've now gone back and re-edited. Basically – there were supposed to be two assailants that attacked Jake and Bella that night, James and Laurent. Laurent was ran over that night and is now dead, while James was recently caught and arrested for shooting Jake.

So sorry about the confusion!!

CHAPTER TEN

Previous (EPOV)

"We will keep you safe. Worst case scenario we'll have to hide you, move you to another state and change your name." She flinched at that. "It's not ideal, but we've done it before and we know how to keep your husband from finding you. Either way, I promise we'll keep you safe."

Angela's eyes slowly flitted back up to meet me, the ghost of a smile twitching at the corner of her lips. Silently she just nodded, for the first time since she'd walked through the door holding my gaze for more than two seconds. "Okay," she whispered.

I sighed and leaned back in my chair, running my hands compulsively through my hair. I stood and offered her a hand. "Come on, I'll introduce you to Emmett."

~ * ~

BPOV

"What about this one, Bella?"

I looked up from the dining room table to look at the six-by-eight glossy photo Rose was waving at me across the room. It was a colour shot of the last stages of a darkening sunset over one of our favourite parks across town, the outlines of joggers and playing children discernible across the bottom line and left corner.

"I'm not sure," I said doubtfully, my brow furrowed. I didn't want to articulate that I'd been purposely avoiding picking the pictures with people - especially kids. Maybe it was the park that made me uncomfortable. It probably didn't matter anyway - I was pretty sure Rose had figured out my tactics about fifty-nine photos ago.

Rose made a dismissive sound and waved the picture again. "Why? It's beautiful, dramatic and fits in with the other pictures you picked for the exhibit."

I rolled my eyes. "Fine, put it in the 'maybe' pile."

I turned back to the table, the entire surface covered in glossy print-outs that my agent, Heidi, had sent over nearly three weeks ago. The exhibit was the day after tomorrow and nearly seventeen not-so-polite phone calls from Heidi had finally motivated me to figure out the final selection.

We worked in silence for a while then, quietly sifting through and selecting what would be shown in the gallery. Rosalie had helped me do this ever since my first show, her bluntness invaluable. Not only did she have a good eye for photography, but more importantly she knew me and what I wanted to project - even when I couldn't see it myself.

I heard the tear of packing tape as Rose ripped open the final box of pictures, then the soft rustling sounds as she laid them onto the kitchen counter.

"Oh, hell no!"

I had two pictures held out in front of me, trying to decide which shot was my favourite. The light was better in the first, but while taking the second a magpie had flown shockingly close to my camera. At the time I'd been convinced the take was ruined, but to my surprise the bird's silhouette was a dramatic stark contrast to the scene behind it. I was tempted to put them both in.

"What?" I asked, distracted.

"When did you take this?" Rose demanded.

I walked over to the stack Rose was looking at and plucked the offending picture from her fingertips, smiling to myself once I realised what it was. I should have known; if I'd been thinking clearer then I'd have taken this one out earlier because I could have predicted Rosalie's reaction.

"It's a great picture," I murmured, looking at it fondly. "You look beautiful in it."

She scoffed. "Please. I have no make-up, I clearly haven't even combed my hair and I have bags under my eyes. Why did you take this? When did you take this? I'll just get rid of it -"

"NO!" I yelled, lunging for the picture. Rosalie was so shocked by the sudden movement that I managed to snatch the photo to safety before she could run with it to the shredder. "I really want to put it in my collection. This picture...it's you, Rose. No pretense, no defences, just you. Just my friend." I locked eyes with her, putting all my gratitude and affection and pleading in that look.

It was a candid portrait snapped one random frosty Seattle morning when Rose was sat out on the rooftop garden, nursing a mug of coffee dressed in plain unadorned pajamas. The slow lazy swirls of steam framed her features and the early morning light set each angle of her face into focus. The light was perfect. Half her face was bathed in shadows, but the rest was lost in a rare moment of contemplation, soft and innocent as the low lights of the city framed her perfect visage into a moment of purity and subtle warmth.

I smiled to myself and traced my fingertip over the curve of her cheekbone. Rose placed her hand over mine, giving me a comforting squeeze and tilting her head onto my shoulder to leave the ghost of a kiss on my cheek.

This was the first show I'd done since I'd lost Jake and the baby; at least half the pictures were taken before... Rose and I never spoke of it, but it was with little moments like this that she reminded me that she loved me and I wasn't alone.

"Put it in, then," Rose conceded, still sounding a little exasperated but hiding it well. "But I swear, Swan, you want to show any more pictures of me and you give me a three hour warning and a hair and make-up budget. Deal?"

I smiled and nudged her. "Deal. And, Rose?

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

"Yeah, yeah," she muttered, heading back over to her half of the pictures. I watched her fondly for a moment before turning back to my work where it lay on the dining room table.

~ * ~

Just after lunchtime the selected twenty-five photographs were sitting in a courier pack with the doorman, ready to be picked up by one of Heidi's lackeys. The pictures were all mainly black and white with the occasional splash of colour, largely similar to previous shows I'd put on except perhaps a little darker than usual.

Rose sighed heavily and lay back on the coach with a loud huff, stretching her arms and wriggling her toes as if she'd been performing manual labour for the past eight hours. "We should celebrate," she announced.

"Celebrate how?"

"Margarita happy hour."

I laughed. "Rose, it's not even one o'clock."

"So? San Pedro's uptown has a bankers' special to get all the suits liquored up in their lunch hour. We may as well join them."

"Don't you have to go to work?" I asked, amused.

Rose glanced at her watch and groaned. "No. Yes. Fuck, I hate my job. I have to meet with that ass from accounting and I can guarantee he'll spend the whole hour whacking off over EBIT and staring at my rack." She covered her face with her hand. "God, I need a new job."

The phone rang out loudly and I headed over to the kitchen to scoop it from the wall, nestling it against my shoulder and saying, "Hello?" I expected it to be Heidi, still panicking that everything was too last minute for the show. After all, she did have a point.

The caller's answering pause was a little too long. I knew someone was there because I could hear breathing, and for a moment I wondered if this was some pervert getting his kicks. About to hang up I asked again, slightly more terse this time, "Hello?"

"Bella?"

I went still, my eyes widening. I felt a strange heaviness in my chest and I had a moment to wonder idly if this was how the beginning of a panic attack felt before Rose threw a pillow at me from across the room, breaking me from my stupor. She gave me a 'what the fuck?' look and waved her hand for me to speak.

I took a deep breath, then spoke. A statement. "Billy."

"How have you been, Bella?"

Billy Black's voice seemed older and sadder than I remembered. Whenever I'd spoken to him before - both while living with Jake and summers spent in La Push - he'd always had an air of joviality, had made his smile heard in his voice. But now he just sounded weary, and maybe a little lost.

"Better," I said softly. We'd not spoken much before Jake had been killed, and had spoken even less since. I felt a pang of guilt at that, realising how selfish I had been in my grief. "I'm sorry I haven't called."

"Me too," he replied, and for a moment I could hear the edge of that silver smile in my once father-in-law's voice. But it was weak. "We've missed you around here, Bella. We'd all love to see you."

I swallowed heavily at the thought of visiting First Beach, of walking amid the gnarled driftwood trees and multi-hued pebbles shining with wetness from the incoming tide... Being there without Jake.

God, the thought was intolerable.

The nearness of La Push was the reason I hadn't even made it to Forks in over a year, the reason I hadn't seen Charlie for so many months. The last time I had seen my father was when he'd come to see me at the hospital in Seattle after Jake and our daughter were killed and found me nearly catatonic.

"I'm not sure I can," I whispered. "Not yet. Not without Jake, it would just be..."

Billy sighed, a resigned yet understanding sound. "I know, Bella. I know."

There was a long silence again, both of us listening to the breathing of the other. Billy's was a heavier, a little more throaty; I imagined mine was faster than usual, the edge of panic pushing my heart rate up a little.

Eventually Billy spoke again. "I'm calling about your father, Bella."

I tensed. "Is Charlie okay?" I tried to remember the last time I'd spoken to him, and bit my lip when I realised it had been over three weeks. Maybe over a month, even.

"He's fine," Billy said, but his tone was slightly guarded. "When did you last speak to him?"

"Um, three weeks or so? What's happened?"

"Nothing's happened, Bella. I really don't mean to alarm you, there's no big secret. I'm just a little worried about him; he hasn't been to the res in a while, keeping more to himself than usual. I think he misses you, kid."

Tears burned the corner of my eyes. "I know, Billy. I miss him too, but I can't come back to Forks. It's like I'd see Jake everywhere and I just couldn't do it."

"I know, I know," Billy said hurriedly, sensing my impending panic. "Just give him a call, maybe get him to come up to Seattle for the day to visit you? Charlie's just like you - he broods too much when he's left alone."

I smiled sadly, reflecting on the truth of that. If I hadn't had Rose here to ignore my boundaries and anti-social tendencies then I'd have withdrawn into myself and never emerged. Rose broke through my clouds, but I'd left Charlie to be swallowed by his. Charlie had not only lost his son-in-law that day, he'd lost his best friend's child who he'd watched grow up. He'd also lost his daughter - lost me - when I became a hollow person, a zombie.

"I will, Billy. Soon, I promise."

"Oh, and there was something else." I heard him clear his throat, then, "Did you get a call from a Detective Parker this week?"

I was dimly aware of my fingernails biting into my palm. "Yes."

"Did he..." Billy harrumphed again, his voice a little thick but otherwise composed. "He called me again this morning, mentioned that the trial date was set and will be coming up in a few weeks."

"We had the ringer turned off until about half an hour ago. I guess he'll call, want me to..." I trailed off, the words strangling in my throat.

"To testify," Billy finished, softly. "I'm so sorry, Bella. I'm not gonna lie and say it'll be easy, but I will say we'll all be there to help you. You're not alone."

I couldn't speak, just made an affirmative mumble as I looked up and blinked the tears back. The thought of reliving that night in front of a bunch of strangers, in front of him, the guy that killed them...

"Um, yeah. Um, I'm sorry Billy but I have to go. I have a show and need to finalise some...stuff." I gripped the phone tighter and leaned against the wall. "But thank you for calling, and for keeping an eye on Charlie."

"Of course, Bells. You know you guys are family."

That one statement injured and comforted me in equal measures. I bit my lip until I could taste the metallic tang of my blood, somehow managing to get out a normal sounding farewell before hanging up the phone.

I sunk back into the wall, head spinning and buried my head into my hands. I felt Rose's fingers in my hair, making meaningless soothing noises as I just sat there on the kitchen floor and drowned in the past.

~ * ~

EPOV

It was mocking me. Tormenting me. Expecting me to fall into its trap, if it even was a trap. Was that its game, to fake me out so I wouldn't even bother trying when that was really what it wanted? Or is it that it wanted me to second-guess myself until I got to the point where inaction was the only possible solution, because otherwise would be to -

"What are you doing, bro?"

"Fuck!" I swore, jerking at the intrusion and spilling hot coffee over my wrist. "Son of a bitch," I muttered, grabbing a handful of envelopes and trying unsuccessfully to mop it up. Emmett watched me with arms folded, clearly amused and clearly not offering to help. Asshole.

"You were staring at that phone like it just screwed your mom and then never called. What's going on with you?"

I frowned at him. "What are you even doing here, Emmett? Who's watching Mrs de Luca?"

"Ms Webber," Emmett drawled, emphasising her name, "Is just peachy. I was with her all last night and this morning, got her townhouse fixed up pretty damn tight now. I've left her with a couple of guys from Cheney's company, they're keeping an eye on her 'til tomorrow. Not a peep from Felix yet, hasn't even tried to call her."

I just grunted, tossing the handful of soggy envelopes into the trash can. Emmett leaned over and picked up the now half-empty mug of coffee and took a long gulp, smacking his lips in satisfaction.

"I was drinking that," I remarked dryly. He just shrugged and took another sip. "Now go away."

"So you're not going to explain the staring contest with the phone?"

"No. Go away."

Emmett snorted. "Fine, be all mysterious. I'm going to pick up a pizza anyway. Want anything?" I just shook my head and then turned to stare at the phone once again, watching Emmett leave the office out of the corner of my eye.

Just call. You won't be able to think about anything else until you call, so you may as well just give in to temptation now and attempt to have an afternoon which is more productive than the morning.

My hand twitched towards the phone.

This is insane stalker behaviour. This will also be the fourth time you've done this in two months and it only takes one random remark to Bella for her to realise there is demented person checking up on her.

I clenched my fingertips together, steepling my hands and leaning on them to better stare down the technological gadget that was slowly driving me crazy.

Fuck it.

I grabbed the ear piece and dialled the numbers with too-hard jabs of my fingers, then once it started ringing I had to resist the juvenile urge to just hang up without speaking.

"Good morning, Sam's Bagel Company."

"Yeah, hello," I said, tugging on my hair with my free hand. "I just need to check whether my girlfriend picked up our order this morning. The name is Swan."

"No problem, just let me check." The phone made a clink as it was put down onto a hard surface and I could hear footsteps and muted voices in the background. I pinched the bridge of my nose, wanting to punch myself.

This was ridiculous - all it took was one passing remark from one of the workers to Bella about her 'boyfriend' and I was fucked. Maybe they'd already become suspicious, maybe -

"Hello? Hey, you still there?"

I sat up straighter. "Yes."

"That order was cancelled this morning. Want me to put it again for you to pick up?"

Cancelled? Why? Bella picked up bagels every Monday and Thursday without fail, I'd never known her to miss a day. Was she sick? Had something happened? Did she no longer bagels? Was she -

"Sir? Sir, can you hear me? Do you want me to resubmit the order?"

"No, um, no it's fine. Thanks." I hung up and leaned back in my hair, tugging my hair again and resisting the urge to yank handfuls of it out. Maybe they had some sort of anonymous support group for stalkers. I needed to Google that shit.

The bell over the door sounded and I looked up just as Jasper entered the office. He glanced over at me and then paused, appearing a little surprised. I shifted self-consciously, wondering if my inner turmoil was reflected across my face.

"Everything okay, Edward?" he asked cautiously.

"Fine," I snapped, clenching my jaw. Jasper looked sceptical and I shook my head. "Honestly, I'm fine, it's just...nothing."

Jasper stared at me for a long minute, cowboy blue eyes a little too perceptive and searching. But eventually he shrugged and nodded, heading over to his desk and draping his jacket over the back of his chair.

"Where's Alice?"

"Following de Luca," Jasper said sourly, his tone showing his clear disapproval of the whole idea. "It took nearly three hours of arguing but I got her to wear sneakers and a shoulder holster. She claimed it ruined the line of her jacket, but I think it would be messed up even more if he caught her without a gun."

I snorted. "Sounds like Alice. I'm amazed you managed to win with the shoes, actually. Especially because she'd already agreed with me that she'd take the gun."

Jasper smiled. "I know she'd already agreed, but I like to let her have her fun."

I just shook my head, amused. "Can you ask her to drop the Davies file off at the courthouse tomorrow morning?"

"She can't, said she's interviewing people all morning tomorrow."

"For Jane's old job?"

Jasper just shrugged. "Said she talked to you about it."

I frowned, vaguely remembering the conversation. "Can you take it?"

"Sure, just leave it on my desk."

I nodded and eyed the dregs of my coffee before deliberately dumping it into the trash. Fucking Emmett.

"Do you know who she's interviewing tomorrow?" Jasper asked.

"Nope. Why?"

Jasper leaned back on his chair, crossing his arms behind his neck. He looked a little puzzled. "It was just the way she mentioned it, like it was someone she already knew. She was weirdly excited about it."

The back of my neck prickled. "So she knows this person? Why's she doing an interview then?"

"Beats me," Jasper drawled, scratching his neck. "Don't even know if she know them, could just be Alice being Alice."

I forced out a short laugh and nodded. "Yeah."

Alice being Alice. The problem with that was that it was creeping the hell out of me and I had no idea why.

~ * ~

A/N Thank you again to all my reviewers!! Sorry for the delay, updates won't take so long now.

Reviewers are rewarded by Edward stalking them about their bagel habits.