18

"Do you think they're still down there?"

Edward smiled and lobbed his head to the side, his eyes landing on Bella, who was sitting on the other side of his bedroom, her knees pulled up to her chest, her arms wrapped tight. After she offered him her hand, after he wrapped his fingers around hers, after they headed back into the house, past his brothers and Rosalie, they once again found themselves sitting inside his bedroom. She'd taken comfort in the farthest corner, and he was sitting next to the door.

"Probably," he confessed. "Maybe not Al and Jasper, or Mom, but the others, yes."

Bella snorted, but didn't say anything else. He'd watched as she snuck out of her bedroom, followed her downstairs, and watched as Alice went out to talk with her. He heard their conversation, of course. Heard Alice trying to compare their levels of Hell. Yes, Alice's family was the definition of dysfunctional, but her father had never held her down and hurt her. He just didn't anything she did was good enough.

"I'm not normally like this, you know?"

"Like what?" he asked, confusedly.

"So . . . fragile," she replied, rolling her eyes. "I mean, I've always had the touch thing, but I'd learned to control my reactions, for the most part. I do my own grocery shopping and pay bills like everyone does. I spurge on overpriced, mediocre coffee because for some reason a nitro cold brew with heavy whipping cream and stevia just hits the spot. I function like a normal adult does, you know?"

Edward nodded. "And we changed that."

"You changed that," she said, quietly. "I don't know why, I can't explain why, but from the moment I saw you standing in the doorway of your office, I . . . I hadn't been able to stop thinking about you."

"Me?" he asked, and she smiled and nodded.

"I googled you."

"You googled me?" he asked, this time laughing. "And what does google have to say about me?"

"Nothing really. There was one picture, from when you graduated high school."

Edward groaned. "Great. Of all the pictures you had to see, that was it."

Bella laughed, and the sound of her laugher had Edward's heart racing. "I have to admit, it was not a good picture of you."

"No shit," he muttered. "I was still a little . . . guarded back them."

"Because they were mean to you?"

Edward tensed, but nodded. "Al told you."

"She did. Think she wanted to make me feel better that she's been a bitch to me. Or maybe she just thinks I'm another person in your life who is going to hurt you."

Edward frowned.

"That's what I thought," she whispered, scrambling to her feet. "I just should . . . I should just go."

"No, don't go!" he blurted out, pushing himself off the floor, causing her to lean against the wall behind her. "Sorry. I just . . . I just don't want you to go because you think she's right."

"Then why do you want me to go?"

"I don't," he murmured, shifting his eyes to the floor. "I don't, Bella. I . . ."

"You what?"

He looked up, finding her pushing away from the wall and taking a few, tentative steps toward him. "I . . . Look, I don't want to seem like . . . like a crazy, obsessive . . . asshole," he said, clearing his throat, "but I just got you back in my life, Bella. I don't . . . I don't want to lose you again."

"I wasn't talking about leaving the cabin," she said, the corners of her lips curving into a smile. "I just meant your room."

"Oh." He paused before adding, "Why?"

Bella's smile dropped as she brought one hand up to the locket around her neck. "I don't want to be another person that hurts you, Edward. I don't . . . If it's hard for you to be around me, I can keep my distance."

"It's not," he said, shaking his head quickly.

"It's not what?"

"Hard to be around you," he replied. "I, um, I like spending time with you."

"You do?" she asked, her lips curving into a smile.

Taking a deep breath, he nodded. "You always did."

"I wish I remembered you the way you remembered me," Bella whispered, turning and sitting on the bottom of the bed, bracing her hands on her knees.

"I wish you did, too," he confessed as he slowly walked over and sat on the bed next to her, causing her to shift her eyes to him. "Not the bad parts, just the other times. It wasn't always . . . It wasn't always abusive, you know?"

"No, I don't know." She reached over and placed her hand on top of his, causing him to tense before he turned his hand over and threaded his fingers in with hers. "Tell me about it."

Edward smiled softly before he said, "We were kept away from most of the adults, but there were two women who kind of, sort of, took care of us, I guess. They weren't very old, though they seemed much older than us back then."

"What were their names?"

"Kebi and Sasha. They were kind and gentle after . . . after we were returned to the dorms. They used to sneak us cookies," he said chuckling under his breath. "You liked peanut butter."

"Still my favorite," she murmured with a nod. "When things got really hard, Charlie would make me peanut butter cookies. Eventually, he taught me how to make them, and to be honest, mine are better." She frowned. "I haven't made any in a long time."

"Why not?"

She rolled her eyes before she lobbed her head in his direction. "Gotta eat healthy, and stay away from sugar, keep fit. Image is everything, and they aren't going to buy my music otherwise."

"That sounds horrible," he grimaced. "So you don't eat junk food at all?"

She shook her head. "I can't even tell you the last time I indulged on something full of fat and sugar. Or, oh, how I miss cheeseburgers. You know, the big, greasy ones with bacon. Extra bacon. Lettuce, pickles, onions, jalapenos, and mayo."

Edward laughed. "Love a good greasy burger, without the jalapenos, though. And fries. I could eat my body weight in fries."

"With nacho cheese to dip them in," she murmured, her tongue slipping out and swiping along her bottom lip. "Great, now I'm hungry."

Edward snickered as he stood up, pulling her onto her feet. "Let's go raid the kitchen. See what we can find."

"I don't know," she fretted, shaking her head as her eyes flickered to the door. "They'll probably say something. I think I was rude to your mom, Edward, and I didn't even mean to be."

"How?"

Bella sighed. "She said I was pretty, and I kind of snapped and said not to call me pretty, that I have enough people calling me pretty. Which, isn't a lie. I just felt like everyone was in my face and I just wanted a few minutes alone."

"I'm sure she understood." Edward brought his other hand up to the side of her face, feeling rather than hearing the sharp inhale as she sucked a breath in through her nose, but leaned into his touch. "I won't let them get in your face again."

Bella sighed, but nodded. "Okay. Let's go."

Edward kept his hand with hers as they turned and walked out of his room, down the stairs to the living room. Rosalie was sitting on the couch with Charlie, Carlisle, and Emmett. She stood as they stepped off the last step, but when Bella moved so that she was standing behind him, she put her hands up in front of her.

"Hey, Bee, it's okay."

"I . . ." Bella shook her head and he felt her fingers curve around the back of his T-shirt. "I'm sorry. I just . . . I just need some time, okay? It's been a lot to accept, so . . ."

"Of course, Bee," Charlie said, standing and placing his hand on Rosalie's shoulder, ignoring the way she tensed. "Just take whatever time you need, honey, but know that we're here, if you want to talk."

"Yeah, all right," Bella whispered.

"We were hungry, so . . ." Edward gestured toward the kitchen, sparing his father a look before he turned and wrapped his arm around Bella and the two of them walked into the kitchen. Esme was seated at the table, her legs propped up on the chair next to her and a book open. She had ear buds in her ears, and Edward almost laughed, knowing she was playing her eighties hair metal collection. It was her favorite, after all.

She spotted them and grinned as she plucked one of the buds from her ear. "Hey, kids."

"Let me guess? Van Halen? Motley Crue?"

"Whitesnake, actually," she quipped. "Can I help you find something?"

Bella tightened her grip on his hand as she scooted closer to him. "Something fattening, something unhealthy."

"Ah, a girl after my own heart," Esme gushed, closing her book and standing up. "I have just the thing."

She walked across the kitchen and opened the freezer and pulled out one of those frozen apple pies from the grocery store. She turned and placed it on the counter. "Takes just over an hour, directions are on the side. I would also recommend the leftover spaghetti and meatballs in the fridge. I mean, if you're going to indulge, might as well go all out, am I right?"

Bella laughed against his back.

"Sounds good, Mom. You sure you won't mind us making it?"

"Of course not," she scoffed before she walked back over to the table. "Just clean up after yourself and save me a piece of the pie. Dad doesn't get one, though. His cholesterol is borderline at best, so I mean it, Edward. I don't care how much he whines and begs."

Edward laughed, feeling Bella shaking with soft giggles behind him. "Yes, Mom. I promise."

She smiled wider before she picked up her book and left the two of them alone in the kitchen. The second his mother was out of the room, Bella released her hold on his shirt and hurried to the counter, picking up the box of frozen pie.

"I've never had pie from a box," she said, biting her lip before she looked over at him. It was a Marie Callender's Frozen Dutch Apple Pie with streusel sprinkles on top. The picture made it look delicious, but she was leery. "Is it good?"

"I mean, it's not homemade, but it hits the spot."

"Guess I'll have to be the judge about that, won't I?" she asked, smiling. "How about I get the pie in the oven, and you heat up the leftovers?"

"You drive a hard bargain, Ms. Swan," he snickered.

While Bella opened the box of frozen apple pie, poking at it with a knife, Edward pulled a large Tupperware bowl from the fridge, popped the lid off, and placed it in the microwave for five minutes. According to the instructions, she set the oven to four hundred degrees and dug through the cabinets until she found the baking sheets. She placed the frozen pie in the middle of the baking sheet and placed it inside the oven, setting the timer for sixty-five minutes.

"We should probably have something to drink, too." Edward cleared his throat. "We don't really keep alcohol here, so our options are limited to milk, tea, water, and knowing Mom, there's probably juice boxes inside. You know, because I'm still five years old."

She smiled. "A juice box sounds amazing."

Edward dug two out of the fridge and held them out to her. While she placed them on the table, and then grabbed them each plates and forks, he stirred the spaghetti and meatballs and set the timer for another three minutes. Turning, he leaned against the counter, watching as Bella stared out the window, her arms wrapped around her torso.

"How'd you get signed?"

Bella turned and looked at him, raising an eyebrow. "Are you talking about my record deal?"

"Yeah."

"Um," she said, before she shifted and sat in the chair in front of her. "Ro and I had been in L.A. for nine months, I guess, and I was playing in this really seedy bar downtown. I'd played there a dozen times, but most of the people who went there were only there for the booze," she said with a laugh.

Edward pulled the bowl from the microwave and carried it over to the table, placing in the middle before reaching for her plate. "Go on."

"It's kind of the cliché story, I guess. I was playing and after my set, this guy came up to me, said he dug my sound, and asked if I had a demo. Ro gave him one along with her business card, which cost her a fortune to get made, by the way. Neither of us expected to hear from him. Figured he was just hitting on me, or whatever, but a few weeks later, she got a call from him."

"And what?" he asked, motioning for her to eat. "He just offered you a deal?"

"No, of course not," she scoffed, spinning the spaghetti around her fork. "We were invited to come in for an audition. And then a second audition and a third. I was starting to get annoyed because with each audition I found myself performing in front of more and more people. I didn't like the pressure to perform, but I wanted my songs to be heard. After the third audition, the CEO of the label offered me a three album deal, the chance to be the opening act for a national tour, and a very generous advance. I was pretty skeptical, but Ro and Charlie went over the contract thoroughly, and said it was a good deal, so I signed. That was almost six years ago. As you know, I released my first single, which was a success, and suddenly, everyone was talking about Isabella Swan."

Edward nodded before taking a bite of the spaghetti. Once he chewed and swallowed it, he asked, "Do you regret it?"

"No," she said in between bites. "I don't like the showmanship of it all. The smoke and lights, the production, I suppose you might say, but I love my music, love sharing my music with my fans. It's terrifying, but once I'm on stage, it's like I'm not that little girl who is afraid her shadow all the time, you know what I mean?"

"Not really," he said, taking another bite. "I told you: I don't like being in the spotlight, hence you being the first celebrity I've ever signed on to protect."

Bella frowned and nodded. "Am I really important enough to you that you'd make yourself uncomfortable being around?"

"Yes."

"What makes me so important, Edward?"

"I told you: you were the only constant that I remembered back then."

"No, I know, but . . ." Bella shook her head. "Does it not hurt you? Being around me? I mean, you remember what they did to us, what they made me do to you."

"I do," he admitted, pushing his empty plate away. "But when I'm near you, I feel . . . I feel alive for the first time in twenty-five years, Bella. This is going to sound way more intense than I mean it to, but when I . . . when I found out you weren't dead, for the first time since that night, it felt like anything was possible. I mean, you came back from the dead, and . . . I don't know if I'm making sense, but being around you like this, it feels like home."

"You're right," she said, nodding. "You're not making sense."

Edward frowned.

"I just . . ." Bella moved around the table, sitting in the chair next to him before she reached out and wrapped her hands around his. "This feeling scares me, Edward. I've never felt this need to be close to someone. Even Charlie or Ro, but I . . . I need to be here with you. I just . . . I just don't understand why, and it scares me."

"What scares you?"

"Never feeling like I belong with someone again."

"You'll always belong with me, sweetheart."

Edward reached for the side of her face, but the timer on the oven went off, breaking them out of the intense, emotionally charged moment they were having. Bella scrambled to her feet and hurried to the oven, pulling the door open and turning away from the bellowing heat. As she used a pair of oven mitts to slip the baking sheet out of the oven, her eyes met his and he knew that he was never going to be able to live without her in his life again, and that scared him. Because what if once they stopped Marcus Volturi, she wanted nothing to do with him again?

Thank you for all the AMAZING reviews! Couple things. I know Bella seems like a bitch, but I think she has every right to be a bitch for a while. In the course of a few days, she's learned that she was the victim of extreme abuse, kidnapped as an infant and spent five years in a cult, and is now being stalked by a man who favored her and Edward as children. Not only that, but Charlie lied to her for twenty-five years, never told her why she felt the hands on her, why she felt so anxious. So, yeah, she's kind of a bitch, but I think she deserves it for a while.