9

"My name is Bella."

For a reason she couldn't explain, the moment those four words left her mouth, she knew they were true. She could almost remember being that little girl brown haired girl who followed Rosie around, who begged her to let her hang out with the big girls. Of course, this was before he came into her life, before he lured her away, stole her from her family.

"Oh, Bella," Rosie cried, reaching for her.

But at the moment, the doorbell rang, and she found herself scrambling out of Edward's arms and hurrying back into the kitchen, looking for another way out. If he found her, he'd take her away from these nice people, the people who had fed her pancakes and milk, and told her she was someone, and not a nobody. Told her her name was Bella, not nothing, not nobody. Bella, she thought. Her name was Bella.

She covered her mouth with her hand as she dropped to her knees and crawled under the kitchen table, pulling her knees as close to her chest as she could. Maybe if she were quiet, he wouldn't find her, he would leave her nice people alone. She had cried that night, screamed for him to let her out of the dark. She used to be scared of the dark, but not anymore. The darkness made it easier, tolerable.

She heard the door get opened and the sound of Edward telling whoever was there to come inside. He wouldn't let him in, right? She heard the sound of the door close and a moment later, she saw two sets of feet: one in shoes and one barefoot. Her eyes filled with tears as the bare feet squatted down, looking under the table at her.

Edward, she thought with a silent sigh. She could trust him, couldn't she? He'd eaten pancakes with her, and held her hand.

"Hey, is this a private party, or can I join you under here?" he asked, smiling.

She nodded.

He sat on the floor before scooting under the table, sitting with his knees folded in front of him. He reached for her hand, which she gave immediately, unsure why she felt safe with him. Why did his hand feel right in hers?

"Tell me why you ran," he said, quietly.

She bit the inside of her lip before looking past him at the feet before she shook her head.

Edward sighed and looked over his shoulder. "Jay, you're scaring her. She can't see you."

A moment later, Jasper knelt at the far end of the table, using his hand to hold him up. "Good morning, Bella. Do you remember me? I was at the hospital with you last night."

She nodded. "Jasper. You're Carlisle, Edward, and Emmett's brother."

He smiled. "That's right. I'm also a police officer. A detective, actually. Do you know what that means?"

She looked at Edward before shaking her head,

"It means that I try to help girls like you," he said, smiling. "And, um, I really want to help you, if you will let me."

"Help me?" she asked, shifting her eyes from Jasper to Edward and back. "Help me how?"

Jasper frowned. "I want to find the man who . . . who kidnapped you."

She shook her head frantically. "No, no, no, no, you can't!"

"Hey, calm down," Edward said, tugging on her hand and drawing her attention back to him. "Jay, give us a minute alone."

"Ed . . ." Jasper shook his head, looking from him to her. "Okay, I'll be in the living room with the others."

Edward simply nodded and waited for Jasper and everyone else at the end of the table to walk out of the room. He turned back to her and smiled. "Sorry about him. He's just worried about you. They all are." Edward tightened his hold on her hand. "We're not going to let him hurt you again, okay? I promise."

"Promise?" she asked, confused. "Why do you promise?"

"Because you're important to me," he said.

She just stared at him. She was important to him? But why? Why was she important? She was just a nobody, a nothing. They didn't know what she had done, how she had disobeyed him, how she'd made him angry over and over and over.

"Do you remember what happened that night?" Edward asked, scooting a little closer to her.

She bit the inside of her lip as she nodded.

"Tell me," he said, and when she started to shake her head, he added, "Just me. I won't tell them unless you want me to, okay? Just tell me."

"And I can trust you?" she asked.

"Yes, you can trust me."

"I . . . I was . . . I was in my bed," she whispered. "It was late. Like really late, and I heard the window to my room open and when I opened my eyes, he . . . he was standing in my room. He'd never come into my room before, so I was confused. He walked over and knelt next to my bed. When he reached out for me, I pulled away because he wasn't supposed to come inside the house. D . . . Daddy said he wasn't allowed to come over any more, and I didn't want to get in trouble.

"But he . . . he pulled me out of the bed, and held me against him. It was too tight, though, and I couldn't breathe, and I started to cry because it hurt. He told me to be quiet, that I had to be quiet or we would get in trouble, but I couldn't. I . . . I" She used her free hand and wrapped it around her throat. "He put his hands here and started to squeeze until I stopped making noise, but it was too late. They'd heard me, and he said he'd be right back, and then . . . then he put me in my closet," she whimpered. "I tried to open the door, but it was locked, and I screamed for Daddy, for Mommy, but then I heard him, I heard them screaming for him to leave, for him to leave me alone, to get out. I hugged Blue, waiting for the screaming to stop." She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "And then the door to the closet opened again and he was back, but . . .

"But he wasn't the same. His shirt was covered in blood, and there were scratches on his face and arms. He didn't say anything as he picked me up, throwing me over his shoulder. He walked out of my room, down stairs, and I saw . . . I saw . . ."

She yanked her hand out of his, scrambling from under the table before he could stop her. She ran out of the kitchen and into the living room. Everyone turned and looked at her, their eyes wide, and she knew they'd heard her. She grabbed the doorknob, surprised when the door flew open with ease and she ran outside, across the porch, down the front steps, and into the yard before someone wrapped their arms around her, pulling her to the ground. She knew without looking that it was Edward, she could feel the safety of his embrace.

"They were laying on the floor," she sobbed, her chest heaving against his arms. "There was so much blood, so much. I screamed for him to let me go, I begged him to let me go. I didn't want to leave. I didn't want to go with him, but he said I was his now. He carried me out of the house, and he put me in the trunk of his car, and . . . ."

"Shh, sweetheart," Edward murmured. "It's okay."

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," she cried, curling herself against his grasp.

Edward managed to stand with her in his arms, and carried her back into the house, past Rosie and Emmett, past Jasper and Alice, past Carlisle and Esme, all of whom were crying with her. He carried her upstairs to the bedroom she'd been in the night before. He kicked the door shut and laid her on the bed, climbing on next to her. Pulling her back into his arms, he held her as she cried for her dead parents, for her long lost sister, for the life that was stolen from her. Cried for pain and humiliation she suffered through for years. She cried for Edward, who wanted to help her.

—SfH—

She wasn't sure how long they stayed on the bed, wrapped in each other's arms when she heard the doorbell ring again. Springing up, she scrambled off the bed and over to the window, before remembering that it wouldn't open. She turned and looked back at Edward, who had shifted so that he was sitting on the side, his eyes trained on hers.

"It's safe here, right?" she asked.

"Very safe," he said. "Nobody here will ever hurt you, Bella."

"Bella," she whispered. "My name is Bella."

"You almost sound like you believe it," he laughed.

"I almost do," she murmured, placing her hand on the window. "Why do you want to help me?"

"I don't know," he said, and she felt him walk up behind her, placing his hands on the tops of her arms. "Why are you letting me help you?"

She looked back at him. "I don't know, either."

Edward placed one of his hands on her cheek, causing her eyes to close. "Come on. We should probably go back downstairs. They're going to be worried."

"About me?"

He nodded. "You're important to all of us, Bella."

"Why?" she heard herself asking, unsure if she really wanted to know the answer or not.

"Because you're somebody."

She found herself nodding, even though she knew she wasn't a somebody. She was nothing, a nobody. They hadn't come for her after he took her away. They left her with him, after all.

Edward slipped his hand in with hers before he walked over to the door and opened it. When they walked back downstairs, she saw James, the guy from the hospital last night sitting with Rosie, holding her as she cried. He seemed so familiar, like someone from a dream. He looked like her father, only his hair wasn't as dark.

"I don't know you, do I?" she murmured, shifting so that she was hiding behind Edward as she pointed at him.

"My name is James," he said, standing with Rosie in his arms. "I'm your uncle, Bella."

"Uncle James," she whispered, shaking her head. "I don't . . . I don't . . ."

"Hey, it's okay," Edward said, turning and wrapping his arms around her.

"Bella," Jasper said, drawing everyone's attention to him. He stood up with his hands in front of him. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"You want to help me," she murmured. "That's what you said."

He smiled. "Yeah, I really do, but I . . . I need you to talk to me, okay? I need you to tell me who the man is who came into your room that night."

She shook her head frantically and grabbed the front of Edward's shirt. "No, no, no, no."

"Hey, I'm a friend, remember?" Jasper asked, taking several steps to the side, still keeping his hands up in front of him. "You didn't want to go with him, right?"

She shook her head, feeling everyone watching her. "He said I was his now."

"Well, that was a lie, honey, because you don't belong to him, okay?" Jasper said, taking a deep breath before saying, "He took you from your family, from your Rosie," he added, gesturing to her sister. "And we want to make sure he pays for ever hurting you, but in order for that to happen, you . . . you have to tell us his name."

Tears filled her eyes as she shook her head. "I can't."

Jasper sighed and looked back at Carlisle, who nodded before saying, "You can trust us, Bella. We're family."

"Family?" she asked, looking from him to Esme, to Jasper and then to Alice, to Emmett, and Rosie, and James, all of whom nodded their agreement.

"Yes, you're our family," Carlisle said, moving over and standing next to her and Edward. "And we don't let anybody hurt our family, so we need you to tell Jasper his name so he can stop him from ever hurting you, or anyone again. Can you do that? Can you tell us his name, honey?"

She shifted her attention to Edward, who gave her a subtle nod.

"His name . . ." She shook her head, taking a deep breath. "His name is . . . Sam."

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