30

Edward didn't like the way Jacob Black was looking at her. The smile on his face, the knowing look in his eyes, and based on the way Bella scooted closer to him, she didn't much like it either. Rosalie cleared her throat, catching Edward's eye before she walked between Felix and Emmett, the latter reaching for her, but pulling his hand back before he could touch her.

"Mr. Black, we've never met. I'm Rosalie Hale, Ms. Swan's business manager."

"It's Jacob," he muttered, his eyes leaving Bella and shifting to Rosalie for a split second before he looked back at Bella. "Call me . . . call me, Jacob. Isabella . . . Ms. Swan, I mean, I'm . . . I'm a huge fan."

"Are you?" Bella asked, tilting her head to the side.

"I am."

"But you're not just a fan, are you?" she asked, taking another step closer to Edward. "Are you, Jacob?"

"No," he replied. "How long have you known?"

"I think the question is how long have you known that you're my half-brother?"

Jacob's eyes flickered to Edward, and then back to Bella. "Officially? Since your first album came out."

"How? How did you know?" Bella asked, taking a few steps to the side, and Edward followed. "I didn't even know who my birth parents were until a few days ago, so how did you?"

Jacob pressed his lips together, his eyes flickering from each of them before landing back on her. He shook his head before saying, "The man who raised me never let me forget who fathered me. Never. After they came back, I had hoped that he . . . that Phillip Dwyer would help me, help my mom, but he told me I wasn't his problem, said he had enough to deal with and I was better off without him, but I had made a habit of watching them, watching all of them, and saw that she was pregnant. Two months later, they were gone. I thought, like everyone thought, they had just moved on, left town again, and then their bodies were found. I was . . . I eleven years old, my mom had died, and I . . . I was left with a man who made sure I knew how much he hated me, hated everything about me. I had been all but shunned by my mother's people, so when I turned eighteen years old, I left the reservation. Just walked away. Joined the Army, but I didn't fit in there any more than I did on the reservation."

"Why didn't you fit into the Army?" Jasper asked. "You were dishonorably discharged, weren't you?"

He nodded.

"Why?" Charlie asked, moving so that he stood on the other side of Bella. "Why, Jacob?"

"One of my bunkmates had a real nasty habit of attacking female soldiers while they were on duty. I don't tolerate violence against women, and decided to take care of him myself, seeing as our commanding officers weren't going to stop him. I beat him within an itch of his life, and when they asked me why, I told them they may be willing to look past what he did to those women, but I wouldn't. We were both given a dishonorable discharge."

"Was it worth it? Being forced out of the Army like that?"

"It was." Jacob grabbed the back of his neck. "I traveled across the country for a while, just trying to find someplace I belong, but then ten years ago, I . . . I became a dad, and, um, I realized that I didn't know anything about my own father, my real father, so I started doing some research. Did one of those genealogy things you see advertised on the internet, thought maybe I could find out more about Phillip Dwyer, more about who he was, his family, or whatever. That's how I found out about . . . about you."

"Me?"

Jacob nodded. "Found the record of your death, so imagine my surprise when you released your first album. I knew as soon as I saw you who you were."

"How'd you know?"

Jacob frowned. "Because you look just like him."

"I . . . I do?" Bella asked.

Jacob nodded. "I have a picture, if you want to see it."

She shook her head. "No . . . I can't . . . I can't yet."

"Why are you working on her crew?" Edward asked, causing Jacob to shift his eyes to him. "So you can get close to her?"

"Started out as just a job, a way to pay my bills and, maybe get to know my sister a little bit, but turns out I like the work. I make good money, so Leah can focus on taking care of Emily."

"Emily's your daughter?"

Jacob smiled and nodded. "She's a huge fan of yours."

"And Leah? Who is she?"

"My wife, and Emily's mom."

Bella nodded and shifted her eyes to Edward before asking, "And do they know the truth about me? About who I am to . . . to you?"

"Leah does, but not Emily." Jacob started to speak again, but shook his head before saying, "She . . . she wants to be a rock star, like you. Says you're her role model, or whatever, and I don't want to . . . take that away from her, if . . . if you never accept that I'm your brother."

"This is . . . This is just . . . it's just too much for me right now."

Jacob frowned, but nodded. "Yeah, I understand. I'm . . . I'm sorry. I . . . I'm just sorry. Thanks for letting me explain, I guess, and good luck with your next album, your new tour, and career, I guess."

"You're quitting?" Bella asked. "You'd walk away from my crew just like that?"

"I don't want to make things harder for you," he murmured, gripping the back of his neck again. "I just . . . I just . . . I'll just go."

"It's not that I'm curious about you."

"You don't have to explain," Jacob whimpered before taking a deep breath. "Take care of yourself, Isabella."

"I . . ." Bella shook her head, wrapping her arms around herself. "I'm sorry, Jacob. I'm just . . . I'm just so sorry."

He smiled, or tried to at least. "Don't be sorry. I appreciate the opportunity to . . . I don't know, to talk to you, at least."

And without another word, Jacob Black walked past all of them, and out of the conference room, and for reasons that Edward didn't understand, he found himself watching the tall, brawny man leaving with tears in his eyes.

—TB—

Edward stood next to the door and watched Bella sitting in one of the chairs, her hands braced on her knees and her eyes closed. She was inhaling deep breaths through her nose and exhaling slowly between her lips. He wanted to hold her, to wrap his arms around her and hold her, but she'd made it clear that while they were in the field, he needed to stay focused, stay professional. But how could he when his sole focus was her. Always had been, always would be, too.

"I don't want him to quit," Bella whispered, her eyes opening and shifting from Edward to Rosalie. "He shouldn't have to quit just because of me."

"Bee, are you sure?" Rosalie asked, walking around and sitting in the chair next to her. "I mean, are you sure?"

"No, but he shouldn't have to quit." Bella sighed. "He has a daughter, Ro. I can't . . . I can't let him walk away from a career he genuinely enjoys because of her. Just . . . just don't let him quit, okay?"

"Yeah, okay, Bee." Rosalie reached for her hand, but pulled back before he stood up and hurried out of the conference room with Garrett following.

Edward walked over and sat in the chair Rosalie had just departed. "Are you okay, sweetheart?"

Bella shook her head. "Not even a little bit, but he's not the man who broke into my house. That much I'm sure."

"How can you be sure?" Felix asked, drawing their attention to him. "Because he gave you some bullshit sob story about wanting to get to know the only member of his family he has left?"

"Because I looked into his eyes and saw the truth. I just know."

Felix scoffed, but before he could offer a rebuttal, the door to the conference room opened again and the tall, thin man from the hallway, the one with spiky blond hair stood in the doorway. His blue eyes flickered from Felix to Emmett to Jasper, Carlisle, Charlie, Edward, and finally to Bella, his lips curving into a huge smile. But before he could say anything, the dark haired man with thick, black framed glasses from earlier came up behind him, clapping him on the shoulder, causing him to wince as he stumbled forward.

"Mike, man, thought we talked about this."

"I have a meeting with her," Mike said, quickly turning his eyes away from Bella. "I'm just a little early."

"Do you now?" he asked, his eyes flickering from Mike to Bella. "Is that true, Ms. Swan?"

Edward looked over at Bella, who simply nodded.

"Okay, sorry to interrupt," he said, before turning and walking away just moments before Rosalie came up behind Mike Newton. "Ms. Hale."

"Ben," Rosalie replied before she nudged Mike Newton into the room and followed him inside. Edward moved out of the chair next to Bella, and Rosalie nodded before she sat down. "It's been taken care of."

"Thanks," Bella whispered, her eyes shifting to Edward for a moment before she looked back at Mike Newton. "Please, have a seat, Mr. Newton."

"Oh, um, okay."

Mike Newton walked around the table and sat on the opposite side from her, his eyes never leaving hers. Edward wanted to jump across the table and beat his head against the table, make sure he understood not to look at her, but he didn't, because while Mike didn't fit the build of Bella's male stalker any more than Jacob Black had, he knew that they needed to find out why Mike Newton had been to so many of her shows. Was he just an overzealous fan? Or was there more to him than met the eye?

"Why do I feel like I'm in trouble here?" Mike asked, laughing under his breath.

"Have you done anything to be in trouble for?" Edward asked.

"No," he was quick to reply. "I was joking. Guess this isn't the time, nor the place."

Bella cleared her throat. "You've been to a lot of my concerts."

Mike shifted his eyes back to her. "Yes."

"Why?"

"Because I like your music."

"You like my music?"

He slowly nodded. "Is that wrong?"

"No. Just . . . just odd. Eighteen out of twenty-five concerts is a lot, don't you think?"

Mike frowned. "I guess when you put it like that." He shifted in his chair. "I didn't realize that being a fan of yours was . . . was a crime."

"Never said it was," Edward quipped, tilting his head to the side and when Mike looked at him, his eyes hardened. "On the night of August twenty-third, while Ms. Swan was performing in New York, you paid for fuel at a gas station three miles from her home."

"I did?" he asked, his eyes widening.

"You did. Why?"

"Because I was on empty, I would imagine." Mike shifted in his chair again. "If you're wondering why I didn't make her show in New York, it's because I had an appointment here in the city that I couldn't miss. A very important appointment."

"What kind of appointment?" Emmett asked.

"A private one."

Jasper scoffed. "I'm sorry, but we're going to need more than just a private appointment."

Mike Newton closed his eyes for a moment before he pushed his chair away from the table and stood up. He reached up and began unbuttoning his shirt, pulling it open and showing them a long tube that was connected to a port that had been surgically placed into his chest. His pants hung loosely on his hips, clearly the man was in poor health, but the lack of an infinity sign tattoo on his boney hips was evident.

"It's a chemo port. I had it placed on August twenty-third, when I started chemotherapy for lung cancer. Stage three. I was diagnosed six months ago. They told me I would be lucky if I'm still alive in three years."

"Is that why you've been to so many of my shows?"

Mike smiled, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "You're the most successful artist we've ever had here at Sin Records, Ms. Swan, and I am a fan. Have been since I heard you at an open mic night down at the Bronze. Just want to spend as much of the time I have left enjoying my life. Didn't realize I was making you uncomfortable."

"You're not." Bella looked at Edward before she said, "Is there anything I can do?"

Mike shook his head. "Unless you can cure cancer, then no. I have a lot of regrets in my life, Ms. Swan, a lot, and when you find yourself facing the end, you start to realize how precious it really is, what a privilege it is to be alive, I suppose. I just don't want to leave this world with anymore regrets."

"If we can do anything," she said.

Mike buttoned up his shirt. "Just keep singing. Just keep singing, because the world needs to hear you sing."

Giving her a sad, pathetic smile, Mike walked around the table, opened the door to the conference room, and left them alone.

"Ro," Bella whispered.

"I figure out a way to help him, Bee. Just . . . I'll figure it out."

"You're buying his bullshit story?" Felix asked, and Edward clenched his hands into tight fists before he lobbed his head toward him. "Oh, shit you are. Wow."

"Have you ever seen someone on chemo, Felix?" Rosalie asked.

"Can't say I have."

"Then you should shut your fucking mouth," Rosalie whimpered, and Emmett was immediately by her side, kneeling next to her. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize to that dick," Emmett murmured.

"I'm a dick because I don't believe for a second that Mike Newton ain't your stalker?"

"No, you're a dick because you don't know what it's like to look at a man and see death in his eyes," Rosalie whimpered. "He's not her stalker. The man barely has the strength to get through one day to the next. He's not her stalker."

—TB—

At exactly three-thirty on the dot, the door to the conference room on the fifth floor once again opened and Kate Denali walked into the room. A tall, leggy blond with delicate curves and bright blue eyes, she paused in the doorway, looking at each and every one of them, her eyes lingered on Garrett for a moment longer than anyone else. She closed the door behind her and walked around the table and sat in the chair Mike Newton had sat in. Unlike Mike, she leaned forward and placed her arms on the table, her lips curving more into a smirk than a smile.

"Well, I was not expecting to find myself facing so many of you." Kate paused. "Rosalie, is there something you need to share with me?"

"You' received a parking ticket eighteen months ago a block from Isabella's house."

Kate shifted her eyes around the room. "Yes, and that's a big deal, because why?

"Cell records also show that your phone has pinged off towers in that same area," Garrett said, causing Kate to look at him, her lips twisting into a smile. "Why?"

"Probably because I was outside of her house."

"Why were you outside of my house?"

"I was doing my job," Kate scoffed, leaning back in the chair and folding her arms in front of her. "I got a memo that you were holding a press conference outside of your house, yet when I got there, imagine my surprise when there was no press to be seen."

"Who sent you the memo?" Charlie asked.

"It was from Rosalie."

Everyone turned and looked at Rosalie, whose eyes were the size of hubcaps. "I didn't send you any kind of memo!"

"It had your name on it," Kate quipped.

"I don't send memos, Kate. If I need to discuss Isabella's image with you, I do it in person. You should know that after five years of working with me."

"Look, all I know is that I got the memo in my Teams chat. I can show it to you."

"Yeah, why don't you do that," Edward said, pushing his chair backward as he stood up.

Kate sighed and pulled her phone out of her pocket. A moment later, she turned the phone around and held it out to Edward, who walked around the table and took it from her. Sure enough there was a memo dated on the same date as the calls they pulled from her cell records, and according to the Teams app, the memo had come from Rosalie.

"Why didn't you ask her about the memo?"

"I tried!" Kate insisted, yanking the phone out of Edward's hand and going to her call log. "Look for yourself. I called her three dozen times, but she never answered. They left for New York the next day, and, to be honest, I forgot about it."

Kate placed her phone on the table and leaned forward, placing her hands flat against the tabletop. "What the hell is going on? And does it have anything to do with Marcus Volturi?"

Edward and his father shared a look. How in the Hell did she know about Marcus Volturi?

Thank you for all the AMAZING reviews! Thoughts?