43

It took every ounce of Edward's control to slide his hands from the sides of Bella's face down to the top of her arms and push her away. The minute her lips were away from his, he missed them. He missed the feel of them, the taste of them, but he knew it wasn't right for him to be kissing her, not like this, not right then. Not in the middle of the road, after just pressing her for details about the man who kidnapped and raped her repeatedly for the last eight years. Not when she was still so fragile and delicate.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm sorry, Bella. I'm so sorry."

"Why are you sorry?" she asked, leaning toward him to kiss him again. "Isn't this what you want? To kiss me? To touch me? To be inside of me? You want to love me, don't you?"

"No . . . I mean, yes, but not like this," he said, wrapping his fingers around her hands. "Not like he did, Bella."

She yanked her hands away from him and took a couple steps backward. "He loved me. He loved me all the time. Told me how much he loved the way I cried, the way I begged him to leave me alone," she cried. "He fucking loved me so much I can feel him on me all the time, Edward!"

"That wasn't love, Bella," Edward whispered, slowly reaching out and wrapping his hands back around hers again, pulling her toward him. "Sam Uley never loved you, Bella. Never."

"He never loved me?" she cried, and fell against him. "He never loved me."

"No, sweetheart, Sam Uley never loved you. Never."

Her knees buckled, but he caught her, sweeping her into his arms. She wrapped her arms around him. He could feel her tears against the side of his neck, sliding down onto his shirt. Edward pressed his lips against the top of her head before he turned and carried her back to Emmett and Rosalie's apartment, drawing everyone's attention. Rosalie was immediately on her feet, but when she stepped toward him, he shook his head, knowing that Bella needed a few minutes to calm down before she faced her sister again.

He carried her into the bedroom, straight into the closet. He settled on the floor with her on his lap, his arms wrapped around her as she cried, holding her while she accepted his love, accepted that someone out there really loved her, even if she couldn't love him back. Maybe never love him back. While it would hurt, Edward knew that he would take any part of her she could give him, even if that meant one-sided love.

"He stole my life from me, Edward," she cried. "Why me? Why did he take me? I wasn't a good girl."

"I wish I could tell you why he took you from your mom and dad, from Rosalie, but I don't know, sweetheart. I just don't know, but you . . . you, sweetheart, you're not a bad girl. You've never been a bad girl. You are amazing and beautiful," he whimpered, holding her against him as tight as he could. "You're a good girl, Bella. A good, beautiful, amazing girl."

She yanked herself out of his arms, pulled her knees up to her chest, laid her head on top as she looked at him. "You really love me?"

Edward smiled. "I really love you."

"But not like him. Not the way he . . . not the way he did, right? You're never going to hurt me . . . like he did, right?"

"No," he whispered, matching her position, laying his head on his knees as he looked at her. "I will never hurt you like he did, Bella. None of us will ever hurt you the way he did."

"But you . . . you love me like . . . like Carlisle loves Esme? You want to kiss me like he kisses her?"

"I do," he whispered, leaning his forehead against hers. "I love you, Bella. I am in love with you."

"Don't stop, okay?" she whispered, nestling herself against him. "Don't stop loving me."

"Never, Sweetheart, I'll never stop."

—SfH—

Marcus sat in his car, watching as the youngest of the Cullen boys carried Bella Swan from the middle of the road and back into the apartment she lived in with her sister and Emmett Cullen. Peter had given him the breakdown on the Cullen family. He'd met Carlisle a few times, mostly in passing through the emergency room when he was called in to access a trauma victim, and he knew Jasper worked as homicide detective with the Seattle Police Department. Emmett Cullen had just earned his bachelor's degree in business, and would be starting his graduate program in a few weeks, while Edward would be starting his second semester of his freshman year. The four were close, yet the death of their parents had flipped their world around, and so had Bella Swan.

He remembered seeing the story on the news of Elizabeth and Anthony Cullen's deaths, the accident that claimed their lives. A truck driver lost control of his rig when he suffered a heart attack, striking the Cullen family head on. He lived while Anthony and Elizabeth died at the scene, and the youngest of the Cullen boys, Edward, spent three days sedated due to head trauma, broke his leg, and lost himself in his grief. Though, if Marcus was right, that little girl may be the key to saving that boy, and he . . . Well, he may be the key to saving her.

Marcus waited a few more minutes before he climbed out of the car, walked across the street, and knocked on the door to the apartment. He shoved his hands into his pockets and a minute later, the door opened, and he found himself face to face with Carlisle Cullen, who looked worn and tired.

"Oh, hey," he murmured, stepping backward and waving him inside. "Come on in."

"Thanks," he said, nodding before he stepped into the room, looking around.

There were a lot of people gathered in such a small amount of space. Rosalie was nestled in the arms of Emmett Cullen. Carlisle's wife Esme was seated with Jasper's wife, Alice, who was holding a small baby. No wonder the girl was so overwhelmed. She had this incredible family who loved her, yet at the same time, he wondered if they were smothering her. This little girl spent years in isolation, only to have people around her all the time.

"So, how was court this morning?" Marcus asked, shifting his eyes between each and every one of them. None of them made eye contact, which concerned him.

"Um, it . . . it wasn't good," Carlisle said, clearing his throat. "They held him without bail, thank God, but he's . . . he's claiming . . . he's claiming spousal privilege."

Marcus raised an eyebrow. "Oh really? Any truth to it?"

"Jasper and Garrett Mitchell were going to find out if there is any . . . any way the marriage could be legal, but we don't see how? I mean, she's a minor, right? They asked . . . they asked us to get more information from . . . from her, so . . ."

Marcus pressed his lips together. "You?"

Carlisle shook his head. "Edward."

"And you think a nineteen year old boy is the best person to extract vital information about the man who kidnapped and raped that little girl for eight years?"

"He's probably the only one she'll talk to," Rosalie whimpered, and when Marcus looked at her, he noticed the way her arms wrapped around herself, holding herself together. "She . . . she won't talk to me, to anyone other than Edward, Jasper, and Carlisle."

Marcus nodded. "Makes sense, seeing as she considers them as the ones who saved her."

"What do you mean?" she asked, frowning.

He pointed toward Carlisle. "He found her. The night he almost hit her with his car, he bought her pancakes, made her feel safe for the first time in eight years. And Jasper? He's the first person who told her it was okay to talk about him. The police officers from Bainbridge Island didn't help her, the police in Forks didn't help her, but Jasper did. And Edward? Well, it doesn't take a genius to see that boy is the only person keeping her together. They've saved her, over and over and over again."

"Not like we haven't tried," Rosalie argued, standing up. "She pushes me away!"

Marcus smiled sadly. "Because she's scared to lose you again, Rosalie."

She frowned. "Lose me?"

Marcus pressed his lips together before he walked over to her, taking her hands and pulling her back onto the couch, sitting so that he was facing her. He sighed before he said, "She was eight years old when Sam Uley crept into her bedroom, killed your parents, and stole her innocence away. Eight years old and her entire world was turned around, Rosalie. She lost her mother, her father, and her sister in one horrible night.

"She's spent the last eight years just . . . just trying to survive, trying to be strong and brave and someone. She gave birth all on her own, she had all but given up on ever being someone again because the only person she's had around her in eight years literally beat it into her that she was a nobody and a nothing, took her child away, left her without hope for a future that didn't involve pain and heartache.

"And then one night, she almost got hit by a car and everything changed for her. She went from being alone and lost, to having this amazing family who loves her, who needs her, and it scares her. It scares her, Rosalie."

"It scares me, too," she cried. "I lost my family that night, too."

"You did," he said, tightening his hold on her hands. "She needs you, Rosalie. She's trying to be stronger than she is, because making you sad, making you cry, makes her feel guilty."

"So what do we do?" Alice asked, and when Marcus looked at her, he noticed the way she cried, the way Esme cried, nestling her baby against her, protecting her. "She's important to us. To all of us."

Marcus pressed his lips together before he shifted, clasping his hands together. "You keep doing what you're doing," he said, nodding. "You love her, you hold her, you get her pancakes anytime she wants them," he added, smiling when everyone laughed with him. "But you also give her a chance to breath, to grieve without being in her face all of the time. She's got a long, long road ahead of her. There will never be a day when Sam Uley doesn't haunt her." He paused, before adding, "I do have concerns, though."

"What concerns?" Emmett asked, sliding his arm around Rosalie again.

"Her relationship with Edward. It's intense, especially for someone who has been through what she has. She might feel . . . pressured to allow certain liberties because she loves him."

"He wouldn't do that," Emmett disagreed. "Edward would never pressure her for more than she's ready for."

"I didn't mean Edward would pressure her," Marcus said, putting his hand up before all of them jumped to Edward's defense. "All she's known for the last eight years is a man who took from her body and soul what he wanted, regardless if she consented or not. Sam Uley controlled every second of that girl's life, to the point that even when he left her alone for days at a time, she never felt free to seek help. She might feel obligated, for the lack of a better word, to give Edward whatever she thinks he wants: physically, emotionally. She's been conditioned to think sex is something she owes, something she doesn't have a choice in the matter. And they are teenagers, hormone riddled teenagers, so like I said, I have concerns."

While they sat with their mouths wide open, shock marring their features, Marcus stood up and walked down the hallway, to the first door on the left. He hoped he could save that little girl because losing her, would end them all. Bella Swan was important to all of them, and if he were being honest, she was important to him, as well.

—SfH—

Garrett tapped his nails on the stirring wheel, his eyes glued to the front door to the tribal council's office. He and Cullen had been waiting in his truck for almost two hours while Kate tried to get them arrest warrants for Embry Call, Quil Ateara, and Paul Lahote.

In all his years in law enforcement, he'd heard every horror story known to man. He'd sat with women and children as they spoke in ugly detail about the people who used them, abused them, tossed them away. He'd sat with the families of murdered children, murdered women, murdered men, but nothing — nothing had prepared him for what Bella Swan had been through.

"Who else do you think knew?" Cullen asked, and when Garrett looked at him, he saw the disgust in his eyes. The same disgust that was in his eyes, he knew. "Guess this explains why the Tribal Council didn't stop him after he raped Leah Clearwater and Emily Young, doesn't it? You were right: they're all a bunch child-raping bastards."

"Suppose so," Garrett agreed. "What I don't understand though, is why would Yorke ignore Ephraim Black? He told Yorke about the accusations against Sam Uley when Bella went missing, didn't he? Why wouldn't he follow up with him? Is he a part of this? Is it pedophile ring? And did Newton and Crowley know?"

"I don't know," Cullen said, shaking his head as he looked back at Garrett, his eyes filled with tears. "They were babies," he whimpered. "Bella? Emily? Leah? They were babies, for fuck sake, and they . . . they . . ."

"I know, Cullen." Garrett placed his hand on the man's shoulder just seconds before his phone chimed with a new text message. He inhaled a sharp breath when he saw Kate's name. He clicked on the message and when it opened he smiled and said, "She's got the warrants." He shifted his eyes back to Cullen. "Let's go arrest these child-raping bastards."

Jasper simply nodded as the two men climbed out of the truck and headed up to the front door. They shared a look before Garrett wrapped his hand around the door handle and pushed the door open. Standing inside the large room were three men, all of them with long black hair, dark eyes, and evil in their hearts. They didn't seem surprised to find Garrett and Cullen entering their office.

"Embry Call, Quil Ateara, and Paul Lahote, we have warrants for your arrest," Garrett said, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out his zip cuffs. "You're under arrest for rape, conspiracy to kidnap, child endangerment, and a felony charge facilitating the illegal marriage between Sam Uley and Isabella Swan. You have the right to remain silent . . ."

As Garrett recited the rest of their rights, the three men simply turned and put their hands behind them back while he and Cullen cuffed them, and led them out of the office, where a small crowd had gathered with Ephraim Black, Collin Littlesea, and Brady Fuller and an older woman with sad eyes.

Sue Clearwater, Garrett thought. As their eyes met, she brought her hand up to her lips, tears sliding down her face, and all Garrett could think was if Ephraim Black, Collin Littlesea, and Brady Fuller had stopped Sam Uley when two little girls stood before them and bravely told what that monster had done to them, Leah Clearwater and Emily Young might not have taken their own lives, and Bella Swan? Well, Bella Swan would never have found herself in the hands of the devil for eight years. The list of people who failed that little girl grew even bigger.

Thank you for all the AMAZING reviews. Not gonna lie, this chapter was a real bitch to write. The words were . . . difficult. This whole story has been a challenge to write, and I know it seems like nobody is helping her, but they are. We still have a lot of story to tell, and it's not always going to be easy. Thank you for your patience, and mostly, for your support. It means the world to me!