A/N… I think this is something a lot have been waiting to hear. I'll let you get to it.

~oOo~

Chapter 15

BELLA

I wasn't sure what time it was when the door to Edward's bedroom started to thump and shake. I cracked an eye open toward the clock on the nightstand, groaning that it was just a little after four in the morning.

"Sid, cut that shit out," I mumbled, trying to refrain from throwing a pillow at him.

"No," he whined.

"Yes," I hissed, rolling my eyes at myself for arguing with my cat.

Sitting up, I shook my head that he was as flat as he could get with one long, black paw shoved under the door as far as he could reach. He thumped the door again, and I got out of bed to pick him up. Thankfully, I'd left the light on in the bathroom, so I didn't stub a toe or something equally as painful.

I knew I'd brought some of his toys with us, so he must have lost one beneath the door and into the hallway. Keeping him under one arm, I cracked the door to see over six feet of shirtless man on the other side.

"Christ Almighty, Edward!" I gasped in a whispering squeak, jumping back with my free hand on my heart.

He snorted, holding up Sid's toy. "I'm guessing he'd break the door down for this. I could hear him next door."

"Now you know why he's relegated to one room," I grumbled, taking the little stuffed fish with the crinkly shit on the inside from Edward. I tossed it to the open space on the floor, and Sid leaped out of my arms after it.

"I'm really sorry he woke you…" I trailed off because my eyes raked from bare feet, up muscular legs, to navy blue shorts with the SPD emblem on them. He was standing there shirtless with abs and pecs and messy hair, and all I could think was that no one had the right to look that fucking delicious at four-something in the damn morning.

Forget suits and ties, shorts and T-shirts. Fuck the uniform, because what was standing in the doorway beat them all.

"He didn't," Edward answered, completely oblivious to my staring. "I sleep light. And…I…I was up. B-Bad dream."

That last thing caught my attention, breaking through the haze of hormones that were just about to make me reach out and touch.

"Oh, sorry."

He shrugged a bare shoulder. "It happens, especially in this house."

"Wanna talk about it?" I asked him.

At the same time, he muttered, "I'll let you get back to bed."

We both chuckled, but I reached for his hand, clicking the door closed behind him so my furry maniac couldn't escape to cause more trouble. I sat on the bed with my back against the pillows and patted the spot in front of me.

Edward's brow furrowed and he swallowed nervously, but he sat in front of me, reaching behind him to remove his gun from the small of his back to set it on the nightstand.

"Don't shoot my cat, Edward," I teased him, and he grinned.

"No, never. I just wasn't sure what I was hearing."

Speaking of Sid, he leaped up into the desk chair with his toy fish in his mouth, and he curled up around it.

"All that drama, Sid," I scoffed, rolling my eyes to Edward, who was watching him with a distant look in his pretty green eyes.

"He reminds me of my mother's cat," he whispered, breaking his gaze from Sid to me. "Sam. I was a little boy when we first got him. Maybe nine or ten? He slept in my room all the way up into my teens."

I wanted to ask what happened to him, but Edward's demeanor darkened.

"My dad hated him," he said softly. His brow furrowed as he shook his head. "Or maybe he just hated all of us."

My eyebrows shot up with that last statement, but I reached out to cover his hand with mine. That seemed to break him out of a trance, and he flipped his hand over to link our fingers together.

"Edward Sr. was…" Edward started, shaking his head a little. "He was a hard man, a controlling man. Cats can't be controlled." He smiled ruefully. "And neither can wives or sons, apparently. He wouldn't hear excuses, didn't want explanations, and always demanded the best manners. Trying to debate or explain… He'd simply say, 'I don't care about all of that.'"

Suddenly, a few more pieces of the Edward puzzle clicked into place. He always gave short, brief answers without much else added, which now was probably habit. He always used "yes, sir" and "no, sir" with his elders. Even family.

"He was a lawyer, so he'd tell us that he heard bullshit excuses all day, so he'd be damned if he'd listen to them from his own family," Edward went on, his eyes on our clasped hands. "We moved here from Chicago, but he traveled back for business all the time – old friends, he'd say."

My eyes narrowed at the way Edward had put that, but I said nothing.

He met my gaze. "My mother, on the other hand, was very much like Aunt Esme – kind, loving, a happy spirit. Though, as I got older, I saw that she was that way with me. Only me. Toward my father, she'd become…tolerant."

Fuck me. I wasn't sure I wanted to hear this story, but this was the most he'd ever said in one sitting, and something deep down told me he really needed this off his chest due to his bad dream. His voice was unsure, and his grip on my hand was a little shaky yet tenacious.

"One day, not long after the summer I turned fourteen, I came downstairs to eat breakfast before school," he said softly. "I expected my mother in the kitchen, but he was there, sipping coffee. All he said was, 'Your mother left. And she took that wretched beast with her.'"

My gaze snapped from our hands to his face so fast that I felt a brief twinge in my neck. I wasn't the detective in the room, but I'd heard enough clues from Edward to begin to add shit up. I had a gut-sinking feeling that "left" wasn't exactly the truth.

"But it didn't make sense to me. I fucking knew my mother wouldn't just up and leave me. There was no fucking way. And then he left for Chicago for almost three weeks," he stated in a whisper. "He drops that bomb like it's nothing and then leaves. For the next year, I maybe saw him a handful of times. He'd return, leave me some money, and go back."

I sat up on my knees next to him to cup his face. "By yourself? At fourteen?" I asked softly, brushing a curl from his forehead.

"Yes."

That simple answer, which before would've driven me crazy with curiosity, now meant something else, something different. I searched his beautiful eyes and saw more hurt, more pain than any one human should have to take.

"Did she leave?" I barely uttered aloud, and he shook his head, which made me gasp. I saw the haunted boy of fifteen in the pictures downstairs for a brief flash.

Edward huffed a humorless laugh, his eyes still dark, still sad. But his touch to my face was gentle and sweet. He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead, inhaling deeply before pulling back.

"Aunt Esme reported my mother missing, despite proof of train tickets bought on my father's credit card – the one he gave Mom for groceries and utilities."

"And she just left you there alone at home?"

"No. I didn't tell anyone he was gone for weeks or months at a time. I was… He told me that I was old enough to take care of myself. Not to bother anyone with my whiny bullshit," he said as he focused on picking up my hand again. "He said that he'd move me back to Chicago if I opened my fucking mouth. And I wanted nothing to do with Chicago. No fucking way.

"By myself wasn't…bad. But when nothing came out of the search for my mother, I started to pay attention to him when he'd come around, and when he'd leave, I'd started looking around my house. Shit wasn't adding up."

"Like what?"

"Sam's carrier was in the basement."

I gasped, my mouth falling open. "If she'd left with him, then he'd be in it."

"Exactly. My mother's jewelry was gone – which, if she'd left, made sense – but I found her keys, wallet, and cell phone in a box on the top shelf of their closet. But one of their big suitcases was gone – again, if she'd left…made sense."

Something about his tone or the darkness in his eyes reminded me of the day he'd helped clean my apartment. Sometimes, doing the right thing is hard. It doesn't give you anything back, but you know if you don't, then you're no better than they are.

"Oh, my fucking God…" I barely breathed aloud, letting go of his hand and placing both of them on either side of his face. "You caught him. You found all the clues."

His jaw rolled with the gritting of his teeth, but instead of answering me, he asked, "Ever read Sherlock Holmes?"

My mouth opened to answer, but I snapped it closed, finally replying, "I've seen the show with Benedict Cumberbatch. Does that count?"

His grin was beautiful and sweet as he chuckled at me a little. "Sure. We can work with that." He leaned in to kiss me once, and he was still amused at my answer, but at least he wasn't so dark at the moment. "Sherlock's whole thing is observation. That's it. He notes the most minute details of a scene or person or room. Moved or missing furniture, powders or stains on clothes, calluses or cuts on hands. All of that means something.

"I started to really observe my father on his last trip home. It was just before I turned fifteen, and by then, the search for her had come up empty. I'd found her things in the closet and the cat carrier in the basement, and I knew he was fucking lying. I just had to prove it," he said, getting up from the bed to pace a little.

The fact that a fifteen-year-old felt the need to solve the mystery of his own mother's disappearance made me angry and sad. It made me want to wrap Edward up in a thick, fluffy blanket and never let anything hurt him again.

"He'd come home and pretend there wasn't this…this…shit between us," Edward hissed, his hands balling up into fists. "But I started to notice he wouldn't answer his phone in front of me. That he never, ever went down into the basement, when he used to go all the time because his wine collection was down there. He'd just bring home new bottles instead."

I followed Edward's pacing, but my heart was in my throat. It was on the tip of my tongue to ask him if he'd confronted his father, but he continued on with his story, pacing some more.

"One night, while he slept, I snuck into his room to look at his phone. One number kept calling him over and over, and he'd call it back with regularity. So I wrote it down and went upstairs to call it." Edward's face turned so angry when he faced me again. "A woman answered. I asked for Edward Masen. She said… Sh-She s-said she was his fiancée, but that he'd be back home in a few days. His fucking fiancée, Bella!" he hissed my way. "The whole goddamn time, he'd had another life in Chicago. He could've just…left us. He didn't need to…"

I squeezed my eyes closed to fight tears but opened them again when he started to talk.

"When she asked who was calling, I said his son," Edward stated, wearing a slightly evil smirk, and I had to nod in agreement because it seemed he was going to out it all with his father. "She had no idea I existed."

I sneered, shaking my head. "I bet she didn't."

Edward huffed a harsh laugh. "Right?" He gripped his hair in both hands again, letting them fall back to his sides with a slap. "I waited until he left again before I did any more searching or…or…" He trailed off, looking so very lost and young and heartbroken. "She wouldn't leave me, Bella."

He said that for the second time, urging me to understand, but I totally got what he was saying. If Edward's mother didn't leave, didn't take the cat carrier, and Dad was avoiding the basement… I groaned, covering my face. I felt the bed dip, and the heat of him was close. He gently tugged my hands from my face. I didn't even think; I suddenly wrapped him in a hug.

I clung to him because he was shaking and muttering into my shoulder about the basement, the suitcase, and Sam. Pulling back, I cupped his face, and he leaned into my touch like he needed it to ground him.

"I went down into the basement, trying to see what had changed, what he'd done. It took me a while, but beneath the stairs and behind a chest freezer was a space behind some paneling. There were marks on the floor where he'd pulled the freezer away and shoved it back. He'd just…stashed her and Sam. He'd choked her; he'd snapped Sam's neck," he stated with a finality that held almost no emotion. "I called Uncle Carlisle and Aunt Esme, and they called the police. My father was arrested in O'Hare as he stepped off the plane."

Blinking back tears, I swept a hand through his hair.

"They charged him with murder, child endangerment, child neglect…" Edward paused for a moment, looking at me, but I wasn't sure he was really seeing me. "He… He never saw the courtroom. Apparently, his fiancée was connected to organized crime, which explains a few things, I suppose. It was a hit; he was dead before he even had a lawyer. I always assumed my call to her set that shit into motion, but I don't give a fuck."

Something about that was so very unsatisfying; Edward Sr. should've suffered more. A hell of a lot more. However, as I looked at the man in front of me, I decided maybe it was for the best, because young Edward would've had to testify. They would've sat that heartbroken boy down in front of God and everyone to face the man who'd made his life hell, who'd taken away his mother.

"That's my dreams. The basement or the epic meltdown I had when Uncle Carlisle took me to pack up before I moved here."

A brief memory of Edward arguing with Carlisle about that house came to mind. Now I understood why he'd rather burn it down than live in it. I understood why he'd destroyed an entire china cabinet in grief and anger, which he'd told me about in my bedroom back at Common Ground.

I brushed a curl from his forehead, tugging his hand gently. "C'mere," I whispered, patting the pillow next to mine.

His brow furrowed, but he nodded, shifting until we were face-to-face. "You're the first person outside my family I've ever told that story to."

Smiling sadly, I quickly swiped away my tears before leaning in to kiss his forehead. "Then I feel honored, and I'm sorry you went through that, Edward."

He didn't say anything, and he still looked haunted and exhausted as I lightly brushed his hair from his face.

"Sleep, Edward," I whispered against his lips as he wrapped an arm around my waist. "It's okay to sleep."

~oOo~

EDWARD

I woke up in my old room, not exactly remembering how I got there. Until I shifted a little. Still wrapped around me was the prettiest thing I'd ever seen – long dark hair, creamy skin, and a sleeping pout on Bella's lips. Never mind that I was drowning in the sweet scent of her.

The clock glowed mockingly that I needed to get up soon for work, but damn it if she didn't feel spectacular in my arms. My brow furrowed as I realized I'd told the beautiful girl in my old bed more about me than I'd ever told Maggie, who I'd dated for just under a year.

I'd only known Bella for a few months.

Brushing a lock of her hair away from her face, I took a deep breath and let it out. I hadn't meant to blurt out everything to her last night, but I didn't feel regret over it. Bella deserved to know, and I'd promised her that I'd tell her.

Bella's legs shifted and tangled with mine, and I almost groaned aloud at the feel of smooth, silky skin as she snuggled in closer, which put her precariously close to the evidence of how she truly made me feel.

With her face buried in the crook of my neck, she mumbled, "You okay?"

"Yes. I'm kinda better than okay at the moment," I stated, smiling at her light laugh.

"Good." She pulled back, and her deep, dark-brown eyes were open, though still sleepy. She reached up to run her fingers through my hair. "Are you working today?"

I nodded, leaning in to press a kiss to her forehead. "Yes, as soon as Uncle Carlisle gets home from his overnight shift, which should be about an hour or so. Well, depending on traffic. You can go back to sleep if you want."

A part of me knew I had to get up, to go back to my room to start getting ready for my long day, but for the life of me, I couldn't seem to pry myself from her arms. She nodded, her brow furrowing a little, but neither of us moved, which made me press my forehead to hers and pull her closer.

"Beautiful, you have to let me up, or else…" I trailed off because her hand slipped up my chest and around to the back of my neck to toy with my hair.

"Sounds like a threat, Edward. Or else what?" she asked teasingly, but fuck, her voice was sexy and kinda raspy in the morning.

I let out a shaky and breathless laugh because that's what she did to me. She made me feel nervous and awkward because she was way too pretty and way too self-assured, but God, I wanted her.

"Or else…I'm going to give in to the temptation to kiss the shit out of you."

Her grin was stunning and sexy as she dragged her tongue along her bottom lip. "Doesn't sound like much of a threat…"

She pulled me in by the back of my neck, and I collapsed under the weight of just how much I'd been holding back. The arm around her waist tightened, bringing her flush to my front. If she didn't know what she was doing to me before, she did then, and it caused a gorgeous moan to erupt from her.

Tongues twisted, breaths pushed out against cheeks, and my hand on her back started to move and touch, reaching that amazing ass of hers and gripping it over her shorts. It caused her to grind into me, and I rolled her onto her back. My hand glided along her side, under the T-shirt she was wearing, and across her smooth stomach. Part of me wanted to move up, and the other part wanted to move down.

I trailed kisses from her lips and along her cheek. When I got to her neck, I left a long, slow, open-mouthed kiss just below her ear.

"Bella…" I said through a groan, my forehead thumping to hers. "I want… Fuck, I want this, and I really fucking want you, but…"

My eyes rolled back as she shifted so that I was in the cradle of her thighs, and I braced over her, gazing down at flushed cheeks and heavy breathing. However, she cupped my face, bringing me in for another kiss – this time, slower, deeper, not so frantic.

I could feel the heat of her as we lined up perfectly, dressed in shorts or not.

"But what, Edward?" she asked in a whisper against my lips.

"But…" I dove for her mouth, taking one last selfish kiss before pulling back to grit my teeth. "But not something quick and over too soon. I want to take my time with you, beautiful." I opened my eyes to sweet and understanding, because she smiled a little and nodded. I gave my old room a glance. "And maybe not in my old bedroom?" I grimaced a little.

She let out a giggle. "Aw, it's not so bad." She nudged me a little, and I rolled off her. She sat up next to me and gave me one more kiss. "I mean, I'm never gonna play Clue against you because I'd be willing to bet you're obnoxiously good at it, but it's a comfortable room." She pointed to the top shelf over my desk where some board games were stacked.

Chuckling, I nodded. "Yeah, Emmett used to cuss me the fuck out with that game. Honestly, it's missing half the pieces because he launched the whole fucking thing across the living room when we were seniors in high school."

Bella's laugh was perfection. I loved that I caused that sweet sound. I sat up in front of her, giving those tempting lips another kiss.

"Was last night… I'm sorry if I dumped—"

She kissed me to shut me up. "Don't," she whispered, pulling back to meet my gaze. "I meant what I said. I'm so sorry you went through that, and I'm really sorry about your mother, but I'm glad you trusted me enough to tell me."

Nodding, I nervously swallowed. "Okay."

"Okay," she echoed sweetly. "Go on. I know you have work. I'll see if Esme needs help with breakfast."

Sid hopped up on the bed between us, purring loudly and bumping his head against my chin and then Bella's.

"Speaking of breakfast," she muttered wryly.

Grinning, I reached out to pet him. I liked him. He always seemed to be watching and judging, but Sam had been that way.

"It's rare that he likes a guy outside of my dad," Bella said softly. "Sid hated Jake."

I snorted, shaking my head. "That says so much."

She chuckled. "I know, right?"

"Sam hated my dad, too." That statement slipped out, but she nodded. "He wanted a dog – some sort of big, manly breed. But Mom and I went to the SPCA and picked out Sam instead. He just attached himself to us that day. Dad was pissed, but he didn't say much then, just that cats were worthless, that they couldn't be taught tricks or whatever."

Bella tsked, rolling her eyes.

I let out a light laugh. "My mother did that same thing. She told him that cats were different than dogs – not better or less, just different. She told him that dogs required a leader and that cats required consent, but for someone to not like cats for that reason stated more about the person than the pet."

"Oh, damn," Bella breathed, her mouth hanging open.

"I've never forgotten that, because she was making a statement about control and his asshole ways to him way back then."

We both turned toward the door when the sound of the garage door wafted through the house.

"Uncle Carlisle's home," I whispered, and I leaned in to kiss Bella's forehead. "Thank you, beautiful."

She smiled sweetly, but her brows furrowed. "For what?"

"For just…last night."

"I promised you I'd listen, Edward. I meant that," she said, getting off the bed to stand between my legs. "Go get ready for work. I'm not going anywhere."

~oOo~

Ducking under the crime scene tape at the little park not far from Inferno, I braced myself for what Garrett and I were about to see.

Laurent had told the truth. At the far back corner behind a water fountain, they'd found Bree Tanner's body. After four years, I wasn't sure what we'd find. Depending on the environment, she could be just bones.

But she wasn't.

"This motherfucker," Garrett said through a deep and angry sigh. "She was a tiny thing, so fighting him would've been useless as hell."

Bree had been wrapped in plastic and what looked like a cheap blanket. Long brunette hair was the first visible thing I saw, followed by a shattered skull. Tossed in on top of her was her cell phone that was practically broken in half.

I shook my head, gazing around the area. We were surrounded by high-end apartments or condos several stories high. I doubted anyone who lived there would remember seeing anything four damn years ago. And James had picked the most secluded corner in that park underneath trees, and even by the light of day, seeing anything would've been iffy.

My eyes drifted back to Jessica as she carefully and meticulously bagged that cell phone. "You think you can lift prints on that phone?"

"I'm gonna fucking try, Masen," she muttered sourly. Once she had it secure in its bag, she glanced up to Garrett and me. "How many girls has this asshole hurt?"

I gritted my teeth, but Garrett answered her. "Too fucking many, Jess. At least three and an attempt on a couple more. And the little coward is on the run."

"He needs to be stopped," she whispered, going back to her work.

Turning to my partner, I said, "He's got someone hiding him. His house, Inferno, and the film studio are all under surveillance, and he's not gone anywhere near them. He hasn't taken a plane or bus or train. Not even a fucking cab."

"Maybe it's time to speak with his next of kin," Garrett offered up, wearing an innocent expression.

Smirking, I asked, "At the mayor's office? Or that really fucking rich neighborhood?"

Garrett scoffed. "Oh, the fucking mayor's office, Masen. Are you kidding me? I wanna make a scene. I want to him know we have all sorts of info."

I laughed, nodding. "And you kinda want the mayor to see that his chief of staff is as dirty as the bottom of a shoe."

"Hells yes."

Nodding, I pulled out my keys. "Then let's really make a scene. We'll have a few uniforms go with us. You know…just in case his nephew is visiting or some shit."

Garrett grinned, rubbing his hands together as we walked to my truck. "I like the way you think, Masen." He got in on the passenger side, asking, "How's your girl?"

I smiled sadly his way. "She's okay. She was there this morning when you texted about Bree, but she's hanging in there. Better than if we'd have stashed her in some random hotel or something."

Bella's tears at breakfast had just about brought me to my knees, but she was so strong; she simply kept going, kept taking care of those around her. And I could see that I was starting to become one of the people she liked to spoil.

"Good. I bet Esme's pampering those girls to death."

Chuckling, I shrugged. "They all are."

"And you?"

Smirking out the windshield as I navigated the streets toward the mayor's office, I said, "She's…" I trailed off, not knowing how to put it.

Garrett lightly punched my shoulder. "Yup. He's done, ladies and gentlemen. I was the same way with Katie. Just as articulate, too."

I grinned. "I bet. Call in for uniforms to meet us, Garrett. I want to give Bella her life back."

Garrett nodded and pulled out his phone. "Copy that, Masen."

~oOo~

A/N… So now you know Edward's history. Ed Sr. was a raging asshole. The next chapter actually touches on the breakfast Edward mentioned at the end, so we see Bella's view of that.

Okay, so both fics update as normal this coming week. Until then… Mooches, Deb ;)