16

Edward would never forget the first time he met Felix. He was sixteen years old and had stopped by his father's office, after having a particularly rough day at school. He had had a substitute teacher in his gym class, who apparently hadn't been told that Edward didn't play well with others, and had all but forced him to play basketball.

His normal gym teacher knew better than to force Edward into contact sports and would let him run laps, or hit the weight room with Emmett or Jasper, but seeing as Emmett had already graduated and Jasper had skipped that day, claiming to be sick, Edward didn't have anyone to go to the weight room with, not that it mattered. The substitute teacher didn't give a rat's ass and made him play with the other kids. He didn't like the contact, didn't like how close everyone got, and by the time class was over, he had almost had five different panic attacks. Then, to make matters worse, when he walked into his father's office, he found him sitting across from a man who sent him to his knees.

Felix was the spitting image of his father, and Edward had never forgotten the man who tore their lives apart.

"Wait, wait, wait," Bella cried out, putting her hands up in front of her, and Edward tore his eyes away from his fathers, swallowing the bile that filled his throat. "His . . . his son? This Felix guy is . . . is his son?"

"Yes, Bella," Carlisle said, his eyes flickering to Edward for a moment before he looked back at her. "But he isn't anything like his father."

Edward snorted, causing her to turn and look at him.

"He's a bit rough around the edges," Carlisle said, and she gave Edward a look before she looked back at his father. "But if Marcus is the man stalking you, and I have no doubt that he is, Felix will be able to help us protect you."

Bella shook her head and put her hand up before she turned and looked back at Edward. He could see the confusion in her eyes, the fear and doubt that he knew was in his. "You don't agree with him."

"Bella, I promise —"

"I wasn't asking you!" she exclaimed, twisting and holding her hand up to his father, stopping him in mid-sentence. She blew out a deep breath and looked back at Edward. "You don't agree with your father, do you?"

Edward pressed his lips together, his eyes darting to Carlisle before he shook his head. "I think it's too soon to consider bringing him in."

"Edward."

"Stop talking," Bella snarled, glaring at Carlisle before turning back to Edward. "Why do you think it's too soon to consider bringing him in?"

Once again, he looked at his father before speaking, "Felix acts before he thinks. He's impulsive, overly strict, and I don't think, given your desire for privacy, he will respect that."

"Edward."

"If you don't stop talking, I will fucking scream!" Bella groused, turning and glaring at Carlisle, who almost seemed amused by her veiled threat. She took a deep breath. "If he says no, then I say no."

"Is that so?" Carlisle asked, tilting his head to the side, his eyes flickering to Edward before shifting back to her. "We have nine days before you start a media tour, Bella. Nine days to stop Marcus, or expose you to the world again. Nine days is not a lot of time."

"I know exactly how long nine days is," she quipped, taking a step backward so she was on the step in front of Edward. "But I hired him to be my bodyguard. I mean no disrespect, Carlisle, I honestly don't, but I don't trust you, any of you," she added. "I trust him, so we don't call Felix in until we have to. That's final."

And without giving his father a chance to say another word, Bella turned and walked past Edward, heading back for the third floor. A moment later, the sound of her bedroom door closing echoed down to them. He pressed his lips together before he looked back at his father, expecting to get his ass handed to him, but Carlisle simply nodded and motioned for Charlie to follow him back into his office.

"Maybe she's worth something after all," Alice quipped, standing up and grabbing Jasper's hand and dragging him outside, letting the door close behind them.

"Ed, man, you okay?" Emmett asked, drawing his attention away from the front door.

Edward shook his head. "No."

And without giving them the chance to stop him, he turned and walked back upstairs, but instead of knocking on her door, like he wanted to, he walked past it and into his bedroom. As the door closed behind him, he slid to the floor and listened with his hands clenched into tight fists and tears burning his eyes as she started playing the song again.

—TB—

She played the song over and over and over, until Edward was ready to burst through the door and slam the old guitar against the wall. Until he was ready to drop to his knees at her feet and beg her to stop. Just stop, but he didn't. Because while the song may bring back memories he longed to forget, for her they were the only part of her life before the age of five that she seemed to remember.

The sun set behind the tall, snow-capped mountains, and clock ticked by minute by minute by minute. He ignored the knock on his door by his mother, urging him to come down for dinner. She'd made his favorite, she said, and when he refused to open the door, he heard her knock on Bella's door, too, only to hear her sigh when neither answered.

It was just after midnight when he heard the sound of her bedroom door opening and closing. He scrambled to his feet and walked over to his door, prying it open just enough to watch her tiptoeing downstairs. He was quiet as he followed, staying at least one level behind her as she crept downstairs, and into the kitchen. He stood in the doorway of the kitchen and watched as the light from the refrigerator turned on as she opened it, searching the inside before reaching for the jug of milk and one of the cartons of vanilla yogurts his mother always kept. It was a good protein, she said, and healthy, she would add with a laugh.

Edward cleared his throat and reached over to turn on the light as she turned and closed to the door to the refrigerator.

"Are you fucking stalking me?" she gasped, almost dropping the jug of milk, but managed to keep from letting it spill all over the floor.

"No," he laughed, folding his arms in front of him. "I heard you leave your room. Thought you might need some protecting."

"From the kitchen monsters?" she asked, grinning as she placed the milk and carton of yogurt on the counter. "Where would I find a glass and a spoon?"

"Glasses are in the cupboard next to the stove and spoons are in the drawer next to the sink, to the left."

She turned and quickly grabbed one of each, before placing them on the counter and opening the milk, filling the glass. "Did you want some?"

Edward shook his head. "Milk and I have a hate-hate relationship."

She smiled and nodded. "Charlie and milk don't really agree with each other, either, but he still won't give up his occasional bowl of ice cream."

Edward hummed, but didn't reply.

Bella peeled the top off her yogurt and mixed it with her spoon before shifting her eyes back up to him. "Why are you just staring at me?"

"Sorry," he mumbled.

"Why are you sorry?" she asked, tilting her head to the side.

"I don't know," he chuckled.

"Oh, okay." She picked up her yogurt and glass of milk and walked over to the table, sitting on the far side with her knees pulled up against her chest. Her eyes landed on him again. "Are you just going to stand there?"

"No, I guess not." Edward grabbed an apple before he walked over and sat across from her, leaning forward and placing it on the table. "Why aren't you asleep?"

"Why aren't you?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "Kind of scared, I guess."

"Me too."

"Yeah?" he asked and when she nodded, he pressed for more. "What scares you?"

"What doesn't scare me?" She took a bite of her yogurt. "I feel . . . I feel too anxious to sleep."

"Me too."

"Have you always wanted to be in the personal protection business?"

"No," he admitted, picking up the apple and taking a bite. He chewed slowly before swallowing and saying, "Never felt like I had a choice in the matter, though."

"Because of your father?"

"Yes, and no. I'm good at it. It gives me control over my life, something I didn't have for a long time."

"But if you don't enjoy it, is it really control over your life?"

"I don't not enjoy it," he said before taking another bite of his apple. "I like helping people who need help, Bella."

"People like me, like us?"

He nodded. "Maybe not as extreme as our situation," he confessed. "Most of the people who come to me for help are pretty open and shut cases. You know, ex-boyfriend, over-friendly co-worker, etc."

"Am I your first celebrity?"

"You are," he admitted.

"Why?"

"Because I don't like being in the spotlight."

"I don't much like being in the spotlight, either."

"You hide it well."

She laughed and scooped another spoonful of her yogurt and popped it into her mouth. "Being on stage like that, it's terrifying. Takes me hours to get the courage to go out there. I seclude myself in my dressing room, try to block out the hustle and bustle that's always going on around me. But once I'm ready, once I go out on that stage, once I feel the energy coming off my fans, well, you saw my show."

"I did."

"If you weren't in private security, what would you want to do?"

Edward shook his head. "I don't know."

"Come one, sure you do," she urged, dropping her feet from the edge of the chair and leaning forward, picking up her milk. "What do you do when you aren't saving damsels in distress?"

He snorted. "Damsels, huh?"

She smiled and nodded.

"Okay, well, when I was little, when I was too scared to sleep, I used to write stories."

"What kind of stories?"

"Just . . . stories." He stood up and walked over to the trash, tossing his apple inside before leaning against the front of the sink. "About what we went through. Of course, I didn't understand what had happened to us, not really, so I'd write stories about monsters."

"Monsters," she whispered, leaning back and pulling her knees back up to her chest. "How'd you go so long knowing what we went through, Edward? It's been like a day and half and I feel myself struggling to breathe. Especially when everyone is watching me, staring at me, waiting for me to freak out. Makes me want to stop it all."

Edward frowned.

"I'm not going to kill myself," she was quick to add. "I just don't like attention, and they all seem to be paying me an extra amount of attention."

"They know you're important to me."

"So you've said a few times, but why do they think staring at me is going to make me comfortable?"

Edward laughed. "They're worried about you, about me. About me being around you again. I told you, Bella, I talked about you a lot. Annoyed the crap out of them. Especially my brothers. Pretty sure they thought I made you up."

"And Alice? Did she think you made me up?"

"No," he said, slowly.

"Then why doesn't she like me? And don't give me that bullshit about her being protective of you. Your brothers are protective of you, too, and they aren't they don't treat me like a selfish bitch."

Edward sighed.

"Is she in love with you?"

Edward choked on his tongue as he gasped and said, "Oh, fucking hell no!"

Bella fell back in her chair and laughed. "Sorry."

"No, I'm sorry. I just . . ." Edward walked back over to the table and sat down. "Al and I, we've been through a lot, Bella. She's fought for me so many times. Too many times. Her family . . . her dad puts a lot of bullshit on her, blames her for a lot that isn't her fault, and as a result, she kind of latched onto us, I guess. She's like my sister."

"Then why doesn't she like me? I mean, I don't expect her to kiss my ass, or wait on my every need, but she's talks to me like I am garbage, Edward. Like I'm trash, and I . . . I've had lifetime full of feeling like I'm trash, I guess, to sit around and let someone else treat me like I'm not worth shit."

Bella stood up and walked around the table, pouring the last of her milk in the sink before washing her glass and her spoon. She turned and looked back at Edward.

"Right now, Alice hasn't shown me that she's going to have my back when push comes to shove. I'm willing to fight, Edward, but if I'm going to put my trust in you, my trust that you're worth fighting for, then I need to know that the people around me are worth my time and effort."

Without giving him the chance respond, Bella turned and walked out of the kitchen. He followed, finding her standing at the bottom of the stairs with Alice. Bella turned and gave him a look before she hurried upstairs, and a moment later, they heard her bedroom door close.

"What are you doing up?" Edward asked, turning and walking back into the kitchen, knowing she would follow.

"Couldn't sleep. Thought I would work for a while." Alice leaned against the doorjamb, her arms wrapped around her torso. "You were alone with her."

Edward nodded.

"Wow, Edward," she said, sighing. "She has you wrapped around her little finger, doesn't she?"

"And if she does?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "I don't know why you're treating her like this, Al. You know how important she is to me."

"I do," she admitted. "And that's why I'm worried." Alice walked over to him, slowly raising her hands and placing them on either side so his face. "She's been your entire world for as long as I've known you, Edward. Even when you thought she was dead, when she was a ghost of a memory, you let her invade everything you did. And now, you're . . . you're falling apart because of her."

Edward shook his head. "Not because of her. Because of him. It's always been because of him."

Alice dropped her hands from his face. "Yeah, I suppose it has. You're different around her, you know? I see the way you look at her, the way you watch her every movement. You don't even know you're doing it, either."

"I do," he admitted.

"If you tell me you're okay, Edward, I'll try to be nice to her, but don't expect me not to worry about you. You've been my best friend for more years than I can count. I don't want you to get hurt again," she whimpered.

"Al."

She smiled through her tears as she took a step backward. "Just . . . just promise me that you're being careful around her, that you're not losing yourself again, because, Edward, I don't know if you'll survive losing her again."

"I know I won't." Edward leaned down and kissed the top of her head. "I love you, Al, but if you don't make things right with her, then we're done."

And leaving Alice standing alone in the kitchen, Edward walked upstairs and into his bedroom, once again leaning against the door and listening to Bella strumming her guitar. Only this time, the song she placed made his heart race. Alice was right: she did have him wrapped around her little finger. And he wouldn't have it any other way.

Thank you for all the AMAZING reviews! Do me a favor and leave me a few words letting me know what you thought of this chapter. I'm off to read the next chapter of The Love of the Game by DrivingEdward, which is flipping amazing. If you haven't read it, then read it now.