Alright, guys, I apologize for not getting this to you last week. I had every intention of posting on Thursday after I posted La Bellissima, but real life got in my way. Then I planned on Sunday, but FFN had all those issues over the weekend. So, thank you for being patient with me!

I have warned you that things are going to get a little rocky, but don't worry too much. It will only be for a couple of chapters.

Let's see how Edward's plans with his Atlanta friends play out...

"I'll be back in an hour," Edward assures me, grabbing a soda from the hotel's lobby. A slice of cheese pizza balances on my plate as I pour my drink into a cup.

"It's fine. Have fun. I'll probably be at the pool with the girls when you get back." I nod toward the side hallway where he's planning his escape. "Your Atlanta friends are waitin'." There's a blue sedan parked outside a glass door; its window is down, and a boy with a backward ball cap leans out of it waving. I wonder if it's Collin... or Brady… or a friend of Edward's he hasn't mentioned.

I chew at my lip as Edward kisses my head and mutters, "Cover for me." He glances over his shoulder at Mrs. Cope, who's gesturing wildly while she recaps our trip to the museum with a group of students at her table. Edward is down the hall and out the door before she takes a breath. He slaps hands with the backward cap boy before climbing into the car. They take off, and I attempt to quell my nerves while I look for a place to sit.

Emily motions to the seat next to her. Her bathing suit is already on, the purple halter strap sticking out under her t-shirt, and her pizza is halfway eaten. "The front desk said the pool is heated," she tells me as I slip into a bar stool at the high table.

"I'll go upstairs and change after I eat," I promise, but my stomach swoops and swirls with so much anxiety that I barely finish a third of my pizza. I stop and switch to taking small sips of my drink instead.

"What did you think, Bella?" A mousy girl named Chelsea turns to me, tucking her shoulder-length blond hair behind her ears.

I blink at her, ready to spill my thoughts about Edward and his impromptu reunion, but stop when I realize no one else knows he's gone. "What?" My face grows warm as the table turns to me. Emily nudges me with her elbow, pulling me into the conversation.

"About the museum," she whispers helpfully.

Becca cocks an eyebrow and laughs. "Daydreaming about Prince Charming? Where is he anyway? You two never leave each other's sides."

"Oh, uh, his dad called about some college scout wantin' to meet when he gets back home." I'm proud of my lie. It seems plausible. "He went upstairs to talk about it."

"Mm-hm." Becca's eyes narrow, but she doesn't call me out on my bullshit, even though I know my blush has turned tomato red. So much for being a believable liar.

Chelsea flips the tab on her soda, turning toward me. "Anyway, Bella, did you like the exhibits?"

"Yeah. The European Renaissance was great." I'm too distracted to give more than a halfhearted response.

Becca stands, finished with her pizza and crumpling her napkin in her hand. "Don't sound so enthusiastic, Bella." She drops her trash in a can behind her before pulling her key card from her pocket. "I'm going to change for the pool. Meet you guys there?"

I use her cue as an excuse to leave the awkwardness of the table, even though she's the one who created most of it. "I've gotta change too. I'll see y'all in a few minutes."

With no other option, I toss my trash and follow Becca to the elevators. She smacks her keycard against her palm, leaning against the wall inside as I press the button for the fourth floor.

The moment the doors slide closed, she smirks, head swiveling in my direction. "So, where'd Edward sneak off to?"

"What?" I stare straight ahead, afraid that if I look her in the eyes, she'll see right through me.

"Come on, Bella," she scoffs. "I saw him run out the side exit and jump in a car. Who picked him up? Is he going out to get us alcohol or something? If Cope finds out…"

"No." My head snaps to her as my mouth drops open. I've got to fix this before rumors spread and a chaperone gets word that Edward not only left but could be returning with contraband. "He's just out to dinner with some old friends. He'll be back in like forty minutes."

"Okay. Sure," she shakes her head, slipping out of the elevator as the doors open. "I call dibs on anything he comes back with. If you share, I won't tell."

I have to catch the sliding door with my arm so I don't get closed in as she blows me a kiss and saunters down the hall.

This was a horrible idea.

oOo

Dripping wet, I snatch my towel from a pool chair and wrap it around my frame. The indoor pool room is humid with steam, and condensation rolls down the windows, but goosebumps still cover my skin from the change in temperature.

I tap the screen of my phone to check the time. Again.

Nine thirty-six.

It's been two and a half hours since Edward left, and the pit of anxiety in my stomach has grown into a full-blown panic.

I send him text number five.

Seriously, are you okay? I'm worried. -B

"He better get back soon," Becca says as she plops onto the chair beside me. "Cope will freak if he's not here for lights out."

"Thanks. That's helpful," I spit back, staring at the "delivered" underneath my text.

He wouldn't ignore me like this. Something terrible happened, I know it. I give up on the text and select his number from my recent calls. It rings four times and goes to voicemail. "Hey. It's me. Um, call me back."

"Maybe he went up to the room when he got back." Emily climbs up the steps, glancing around to ensure no one is listening. Of course, Becca opened her mouth and clued Emily in on why I was jumping out of the pool every few minutes and watching through the lobby door like a stalker.

"I should go up there." I cling to the hope she's given me like a lifeline. It's possible that he didn't want to interrupt us. "Maybe he went to the room and fell asleep or somethin'."

"I'm sure that's what it is." Emily squeezes my arm after draping her towel over her shoulders. "I'll go with you. I'm all pruney anyway." She holds up her hand, giggling at the wrinkles in her skin. I force a smile. Giggling is not something I'm capable of at the moment.

Stress weighs heavy over me as we walk through the hotel and ride up to our rooms. Emily tries to distract me, recapping our plans for our room switch in the middle of the night, but I only give her one-word answers. If I attempt more, I might gag and vomit.

Noise filters into the hall from Sam and Edward's room. Boys laughing and yelling about a video game, their trash-talking over Mario Cart would be amusing in any other situation.

"Sam brought his Nintendo Switch," Emily explains, knocking on the door.

Heavy boy steps approach us before the door swings open, and a grinning Sam scans Emily's body, whistling at her bikini. "You're a little early, but I can kick these guys out if you want."

She rolls her eyes and slaps his bicep with an "Oh my God" before peeking in the room behind his shoulder. "No, Bella is lookin' for Edward. Is he in here?"

"No." Sam turns as if checking to make sure he hasn't missed an entire person. "I figured he was with you, Bella. Is he still out with his friends?"

"I don't know. He won't answer me." I show the screen of my phone- no notifications.

Sam checks his watch and grimaces at the time. "Shit, If he's not back soon…"

"What do we do?" Emily combes her fingers through her wet hair, eyes darting between Sam and me.

No. Edward not coming back isn't an option. I shiver in the cool air of the hallway, dread rolling down my spine. What if there was an accident? What if he's in a hospital somewhere? How will I even find him?

Sam smacks his hand on the doorframe and nods. "I've got an idea. After I kick these guys out, I'll turn on the shower so when Cope comes to check, I can tell her Edward's in there. It's not like she can look in the bathroom."

"Smart." Emily grins, looking at me for approval.

I roll my phone between my palms and mutter, "Sure." Maybe I should google Atlanta Hospitals and call around to find him. Could they even tell me anything? What if I say I'm his sister?

"Come on, Bella. Let's get changed for bed. He'll call you soon, I'm sure. Sam's got Cope figured out."

She tugs on my wrist, and I stumble after her, the simple action of getting my feet in front of each other too big of a task to undertake. In our room, I tell her to shower first, afraid to part with my phone. The battery percentage drops to seven percent, so I spend ten minutes hovering over the corner desk while it charges. I can't walk away, afraid that I'll miss it when Edward finally reaches out if I don't stare at the screen.

Emily all but shoves me in the shower, promising that I can leave the bathroom door unlocked and that she'll bring me the phone if anything happens. While I rapidly scrub shampoo into my hair, I consider calling Mama Esme to tell her what's going on. But if Edward isn't lying dead somewhere, that will only get him in trouble.

That thought brings images of Edward, covered in blood, skin pale, with doctors rushing to save his life.

No.

He's fine. He's just stuck somewhere. Maybe they had to stop for gas… and there was a robbery in the gas station… and he got shot.

Jesus, please save him!

"Bella, are you okay?" The bathroom door cracks open as Emily peeks inside.

My sob bounces off the wall as I choke on a cracking "No."

"Oh, Bella. I'm sure he's fine." She rushes in, handing me a towel with her eyes closed when I stop the water and open the curtain.

"What if he's not? What if somethin' horrible happened to him?" I'm ugly crying, snot beginning to drip from my nose as tears roll over my flushed cheeks.

She sighs, squinting an eye open to make sure I'm covered. "He probably lost track of time. Aren't these guys his old teammates? You know how boys get when they're together. Maybe he forgot about the lights-out curfew or thinks it's at eleven."

"But why isn't he answerin' me?" My breath is ragged, making my words choppy.

"His phone is probably on silent."

I take one more shuddering breath before reaching for a tissue and blowing my nose. "You're right. I'm probably freakin' out over nothin'."

"Well, maybe not nothin'," she scoffs. "If I were you, I'd give him hell when he shows back up."

I give her a weak smile. "Yeah."

"What do you say we find some girly movie on TV and hang out while we wait for him? You know he won't miss our room switch for anything."

My eyes sting from crying, and my nose is stuffed, but I take Emily's offer, settling in to watch Pitch Perfect. Mrs. Cope knocks on our door five minutes later, but she lets us keep watching our movie as long as we promise not to leave our room. Emily winks at me when she closes the door and raises her crossed fingers from behind her back.

I give her a weak smile as I settle under the covers and drift off.

oOo

"Bella."

I roll to my side, my damp hair tangled and draping uncomfortably over my face.

"Bella." Whoever hisses my name shakes the mattress, causing my bleary eyes to open. I'm blinded by the mass of hair tumbling from my head.

Groaning, I swipe away the strands and blink as my vision adjusts to the light coming from the entryway. "What?"

"It's room switch time," Emily whispers, key card in her hand and shoes on her feet. She's still in plaid fleece pajamas.

I sit up, propping an elbow on a pillow. "Room switch?"

"Yeah, I'm going to Sam's room, remember?"

"Yeah…yeah." I glance at my phone in the corner as my memory returns. "Edward got back?"

"Uh, I don't know." She looks toward my phone on the desktop before her eyes drop to the carpet.

Scrambling up, I shake my leg free from a sheet and trip toward my phone. It's fully charged, but my notifications remain empty.

Emily checks over my shoulder and sighs. "Maybe he's in his room. I'll text Sam." While she taps on her phone, I go to my recent calls and voicemails, desperately hoping something is wrong with my reception. But there's nothing.

"Edward's not there," she mutters, sinking to her mattress. "I'll stay here, Bella. Maybe we should tell Mrs. Cope."

I check the clock- eleven forty-five. Oh, God.

"Let me call him again." I select his name on my call log and pray as the ringing starts.

My heart skips when the call connects, and a rustling sound comes across the line, followed by, "Edward's phone, Brady speaking." My throat constricts, and my worry and fear suddenly turn into an all-consuming rage.

"Where the hell is Edward?" Seething, I pace by the dresser and back again, Emily following my every move.

"Who's this?" The guy on the other end of the line, apparently Brady, asks before cracking up and passing off to a second boy.

"Collin speaking, to whom do I have the pleasure of conversing?"

"Where the hell is Edward?" Emily shushes me as my voice rises and my free hand curls into a fist.

"Dude, chill," Collin laughs. "Are you that Bella chick he keeps talking about?"

"Yes, I am 'that Bella chick.' Where is he?" Emily runs over, slapping her hand over my mouth and whispering for me to keep it down. I push her off but nod.

"I don't know. He forgot his phone in my car when he left with James."

My blood runs as cold as ice before heating and boiling to a point that may cause me to combust. "James?" I hiss out the name of Edward's trouble-making friend like it's a curse.

"Yeah. Anyway, we're bringing his phone back to the hotel. Can you get it from us? We've got curfew at twelve-thirty." Collin says as the car engine rumbles in the background and rap blasts from his stereo.

"Jesus, do you know where James and Edward went?"

"I think to some party in Dunwoody? Seriously, I don't know. That was like an hour and a half ago."

Taking a deep breath, I rub at my temples, my head starting to pound. "Do you have James's number?"

"Yeah, why are you going to call him?"

My teeth may crack with how hard they grind together. "Yes. Edward was supposed to be back four hours ago."

There's a pause, and I cringe as rap lyrics about sex in a club play through the receiver. "Sorry about that. We kind of lost track of time." Judging by how Collin and Brady crack up at the apology, they aren't sorry at all. "Look, he'll turn up. James likes to stay out late. They'll be back before dawn. Hey, we're out front. Can you come get this phone?"

The growl that escapes me has Emily flinching and the boys laughing again. I disconnect the call and retrieve my sneakers from the closet, haphazardly lacing them so they'll stay on my feet.

"Should I go downstairs with you?" Emily asks, her expression full of sympathy that I don't want. Shoulders hunched in humiliation, I shake her off.

"Go see Sam. I'm goin' to wait for Edward."

"So you can kill him?" She raises her brows, and I think she truly fears for Edward's life.

Good. He should fear for it, too.

"We'll see." Plucking my keycard from the dresser, I motion her toward the door.

We open it slowly, preventing any sound from echoing down the hallway. There's no one around when I step out, so I make room for Emily and let her shut the door. The latch closes with a quiet click.

Step one accomplished. I wave at her as we split and hurry to the elevator. She makes it into Sam's room without attention from a chaperone as I disappear into the lift. When I enter the lobby, I check each way before rushing to the front doors. The nighttime concierge is talking to a security guard. It's easy to slip by undetected with both of them distracted.

The icy December air outside has my breath catching and my arms wrapping around my waist in an attempt to preserve body heat. My thin thermal top does little to ward off the chill. I scan the entrance for any sign of Edward's friends, the heavy bass of a rap song cluing me into their location. Parked around the corner, I find the same blue sedan from earlier, with backward cap boy still in the passenger seat.

Placing a deep scowl on my face so they know just how pissed I am, I knock on his window before stepping back, arms crossed.

"Are you Bella?" He asks once the window is halfway down.

"Yes. Do you have the phone?" I place my palm flat, indicating I'm here for one purpose- to get Edward's stupid phone.

"Holy shit, dude. She's as hot as Cullen said she was," the driver says, slapping his passenger on the shoulder as he grins at me.

I'm going to murder Edward.

The driver leans over, smiling wide. I spot the navy case of Edward's phone in his hand. "What the hell is a girl like you doing slumming it with Cullen?" He laughs at his stupid joke.

"Jesus, just give me the phone." I reach in as he holds it out and slaps it into my hand. "Thank you," I snark and twist, my hair flying. The damp strands aren't helping to keep my teeth from chattering.

"Nice to meet you, Bella," backward cap guy calls as they reverse from the spot, and their music turns up.

I sneer their way and have the urge to give them the middle finger along with it.

Edward's phone goes off with a text. I feel no remorse for punching in his passcode and checking the notification.

Yo, where you at?- J

James. What was Edward doing with James? He told me they weren't in contact anymore. Was it James he was texting on the bus? Was it always his plan to meet up with his nefarious counterpart?

Did he lie to me?

Edward's text threads show multiple unanswered messages. A few from Mama Esme checking in about the trip. A few from Brady informing Edward that his phone was in Collin's car. They're morons. Following those are all of my texts and one that makes me want to punch something.

So good to see you tonight, E. Next time you're in Atlanta, let's hook up again ;) -G

The contact says 'Gianna.' Who the hell is Gianna?

In a fury, I jog to the entrance of the hotel. My gut rolls as I question everything I thought I knew about Edward Cullen. Maybe I know the Amelia Island Edward, but it's clear that the Atlanta Edward is a total stranger.

A stranger that right now I can't stand.

Squeezing his phone in a death grip, mimicking what I want to do to his neck, I step under the motion detector for the sliding glass hotel doors. But as they open, tires squeal on the stone driveway, and I turn to see a car with a purple Lyft logo in the corner.

When the passenger's tall frame stumbles out of the back seat, I throw my head up and scream.

"Bella? Wh-what are ya doin' out here?"

He's wobbly, leaning too far to the left until he stumbles, barely catching his footing and grabbing a trash can to stay upright. He smells strongly of beer, probably due to the giant liquid stain running down the side of his shirt.

"Where the hell have you been?" My body shakes from the cold, but I don't dare move. I want an answer now.

"Shiiiiiiit. You're mad." His palm wipes sloppily over his face, his eyes glazed under his furrowed brow.

Getting close, I hold my breath, disgusted by the smell of sweat, alcohol, and weed. "Oh, Edward. I'm not mad. I'm fucking furious."

I've never hit another person in my life, but I've lost all control.

My hand makes contact with his cheek. The satisfying smack that the skin-on-skin contact creates overshadows the sting on my palm.

He stumbles back, grasping his face in shock.

"Wellllll. Fuuuuck."

A/N: Oh, Edward. Bella was right to worry about his old friends. So, exactly how much trouble did he get into?

I'm doing my best to get you chapter twenty-one by next week. Real life is going a little nuts right now.

But I'll see you soon!

(If you need another story in the meantime, go check out La Bellissima. Chapter five will be up in a bit.)