7

By the time Emmett pulled the large, black SUV back in front of her house, Bella could feel the panic starting to rise deep inside her. Edward had thrown her for a loop. He knew the song, the one that rattled inside of her head, the one that haunted her every moment. She clinched her hands into tight fists as the feeling of hands roaming over her flesh filled her, intensifying with each passing second, and she clinched her jaw tight to keep from screaming for them to let her out.

Thankfully, the SUV stopped and Edward hurried out, meaning she could follow. She rushed past him and into the house, freezing when she saw Carlisle standing in the middle of her living room with a tall, thin Native American man with long black hair and dark eyes. He looked at her and grinned, which did nothing to help ease the panic that soared through her entire body.

"I . . ." She shook her head before she hurried down the hallway and into her bedroom, slamming the door shut behind her. She slid to the floor and pulled her phone out of her the back pocket of her mini-skirt and immediately called him.

"Hey, at the beep you know what to do."

"Fuck," she muttered, but as soon as it beeped she said, "Hurry. I need you. Please hurry!"

The phone slipped from her hand, hitting the floor with a loud thud as she brought her hands up to the side of her head, trying to take as deep of a breath as she could to shake the feeling of hands on her body. The urge to scream, to fight, to cry was intense, overwhelmingly intense. Why was this happening to her? It wasn't normal to feel people touching you, to get scared every time someone came too close.

"Bee, are you okay?" Rosalie called, knocking on the door before she tried to push the door open. Tried, but couldn't because Bella was leaning against it. "Bee, let me in!"

"Ro," she choked as she crawled away from the door.

Rosalie threw the door open, her eyes shifting down to her, and sadness filling her features.

"Oh, Bee," she murmured, closing the door and walking over to her, sitting on the floor next to her. Close, but not too close

"I tried to call him, but it went to voicemail," she whimpered.

"He's on the plane here right now. He texted me while we were at the store, said he managed to get on an earlier flight. Thought he needed to get here, sooner rather than later. Guess he was right."

Bella closed her eyes, nodding. "It's happening again. The feeling of people touching me . . . it's happening again, Ro. I can feel them all the time. Why? Why do I feel people who aren't even here touching me, Ro?"

"I don't know, Bee. How long has it been happening?"

"Since the letters started coming in," she admitted, opening her eyes and looking at Rosalie. "I'm sorry. I know I should have told you."

"Yes, you should have." Rosalie sighed, wrapping her arms around her knees. "What happened at the music store that set you off? And don't deny it, I could see it in your eyes the minute we got back into the car."

"He . . . he knows the name of the song," she admitted. "Edward, I mean. He . . . he said it's called Come thee, Child of Mine."

"Oh." She looked back at the door. "How does he know it?"

"He said he heard it a lot when he was little."

Rosalie nodded before she turned her attention back to her. "You don't have to be strong all the time, Bee. You can lean on me. I'll take care of you. I love you, Bee. You know that, don't you?"

"I know you do," she admitted. "But you shouldn't have to take care of me all the time, Ro. I'm a fucking adult, for fuck sake. I should be able to manage for a day without you needing to come to my fucking rescue all the time."

Rosalie laughed. "You'd better get all those curse words out of your mouth before he gets here."

Bella smiled. "I ain't scared of him."

She snorted, but said, "I'm glad you finally agreed to let him come down, Bee. You should have done it months ago."

"I know. I just . . ." Bella closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep, calming breath. "I'm okay now."

"No, you're not," she countered, but scrambled to her feet. "But you can fake it better than most of us. Change into something more comfortable, and then come into the living room, okay? He should be here in a few hours. You cannot hide in here all day. It's only going to make it worse."

Bella nodded. "Thanks, Ro."

"You're welcome, Bee."

Bella waited until Rosalie was out of her room before she scrambled to her feet and hurried to the closet, stripping off the denim mini skirt and clash T-shirt she was wearing, grabbed a pair of black leggings and the Blacktail Ranch T-shirt she had been wearing before. She tossed them onto the bed before she reached behind her, unclasping her bra and tossing it into her laundry basket and walking out of her bedroom, pulling open the top drawer on her dresser and pulled out a black sports bra.

She turned to put it on, her eyes catching her reflection in the cheval oak mirror in the corner. Or more like the small one inch by one inch black infinity tattoo on her hip caught her attention. She had never known when she got it, where she got it, who had given it to her. Just like so much of her life, she lived in the dark with secrets she couldn't remember. Like the title of the song that haunted her, or the hands that touched her all the time.

Turning away, she quickly dressed and picked up her phone, sliding it into the small pocket on the side of her leggings. When she opened the door to her bedroom, though, she was surprised to find Edward leaning against the wall across from her bedroom. His eyes met hers, and for a moment, a small, brief moment, she felt a calm she had never felt before.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"No," she admitted. "Were you waiting for me?"

He smiled. "I was worried."

"Why?"

"Because I think I upset you, and that was not my intention, Bella."

"What was your intention?"

"I . . ." Edward shook his head, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I don't know, but it wasn't to upset you."

"You didn't," she said. "It wasn't you, Edward. I just. . ." Bella paused. "How'd you know the name of that song?"

"I told you I heard it a lot when I was a kid," he said.

"Where did you hear it?" she asked.

He shook his head.

"Why won't you tell me?" she asked. "It's just . . . it's just a song, right?"

Edward scoffed. "No, Bella, it's not just a song. It's . . . You're okay now, so I'm going get to work."

And before Bella could stop him, he was down the hallway, leaving her standing there alone. She closed her eyes once more, took a deep breath, before she followed. It was just a song, so why was he acting like it was more? What did Edward know about that song that she didn't? And why did she feel like there was more to Edward Cullen than meets the eye?

When she entered the living room, she found Edward, Emmett, Jasper, Carlisle, and the other man standing just outside with Rosalie. Edward's eyes met hers for just a moment before he turned away from her. She wrapped her arms around her torso and walked into the kitchen and pulled a bottle of water out of the fridge. She should have known when she woke up in the middle of an episode that today was going to be a shit-show. She just hadn't expected to find a connection to the man she had just hired to protect her, but what exactly was that connection?

—TB—

Bella wanted to hide for the rest of the afternoon, but she couldn't. Rosalie wouldn't have allowed it, knowing that if she did, it would take days to coax her back into the real world again, so once she had finished her bottle of water and taken the time to disinfect every surface inside the kitchen, she walked back into the living room, where Rosalie was sitting in front of her laptop with Emmett next to her. Jasper and Carlisle were working on changing the locks on her front door and Edward and the other man were in the backyard. Having this many people inside her house made her uncomfortable. Her privacy was important to her.

Wrapping her arms around herself, she crossed the living room and stepped into the backyard, drawing Edward's attention to her. He stared at her for a moment before clearing his throat and gesturing toward the man next to him.

"Bella, this is one of our associates, Sam Uley. Sam, this is Bella Swan."

"It's nice to meet you," he said, offering her his hand, but pulling it back almost immediately. "Sorry, they said you don't like to be touched."

"Did they?" she asked, her eyes flickering to Edward for a moment. "They're right, I don't, but there are a lot of things happening right now that I don't like, though."

"I'm sorry," Sam said, frowning as he looked over at Edward. "I'm going to go start on the other side of the house."

Edward nodded and waited until Sam was out of ear range before he said, "I'm sorry. I know you don't want any of us here."

"I don't," she confessed. "This is just the one place where I don't have to worry about people watching me all the time, yet you're going to be here, watching me all the time."

"If you don't like the attention, then why did you decide to become America's Sweetheart?"

Bella rolled her eyes. "I hate that nickname."

"Sorry," he chuckled. "I didn't come up with it."

"It's fine." She waved him off. "Music has always been my . . . refuge, I suppose one might say, when things get too intense." She paused and looked back into the house at Rosalie. "I'm sure she's told you about me."

"What about you?"

Bella rolled her eyes and looked back at him. "Don't play dumb with me, Edward. I know Ro better than anyone. She told you about how I was found on the side of the highway when I was little, didn't she?"

"She did," he admitted. "It was important that we know."

Bella nodded. "Probably, I just don't talk about that with anyone."

"I can understand that," he said, and there was a look in his eyes that made her wonder how well he could understand how she felt. After all, like her, he didn't like to be touched, either.

"When I woke up in the hospital, I was scared and alone and I had no memory of who I was, what had happened to me, just a scar," she added, patting the top, left side of her head. "They told me my name was Isabella, and the only reason they knew my name was because it was written on the tag of the white dress I'd been found in. The man who found me stayed by my side every day. He was there when I woke up, when I had my first of many panic attacks after one of the nurses touched my arm. Anyway, he, um, he adopted me and he had an old beat up guitar and he taught me how to play, gave me a place to channel my emotions, and I fell in love with music."

"How'd you go from just loving music to wanting to be in the spotlight?"

She snorted. "I don't want to be in the spotlight. I hate all that shit. I'd prefer just being in the background, but the label wants me to sing my songs rather than let other artist sing them, and I want my music out there, so I do what I have to do."

"But if you don't enjoy your work, is it really worth it?"

"I love my work," she argued, tilting her head to the side. "I just don't like being America's Sweetheart. I'm just a girl with good voice and a song to sing, Edward. The people want the flashy lights and rock show, so I give them what they want."

"You are good," he admitted, grinning. "I did enjoy your show last night."

"It was good one," she said, toying with the locket that hung around her neck. "Why didn't you talk to me afterward? Why'd you leave like that?"

"Emmett was tired," he said, tilting his head toward the inside of the house.

"You don't look like them. Carlisle's your father, right? Emmett and Jasper are your brothers? That's what you said, right?"

"I did."

"You don't look like them. Emmett and Jasper have the same eyes as Carlisle's, but not you."

Edward nodded. "I was adopted."

"You were?" she asked.

"Yeah," he murmured, his eyes shifting up toward hers. "When I was five years old, too."

Bella opened her mouth to push for more, but before she could, the sound of her phone ringing startled both of them. She threw him a look before she dug it out of the pocket of her pants, seeing his name flashing across the screen. She looked at Edward again before she pressed her finger against the green talk button and said, "Hey," before hurrying into the house and straight to her bedroom.

"Hey, Bee, I got your voicemail. What happened?"

She sighed and crawled onto her bed, pulling her pillow in front of her. "I, um, I don't know. We were at the music store, doing another one of those stupid planned sightings the label insists on doing, and I had picked up a guitar. Not just any guitar, either, but a cherry red 1964 Gibson ES-335 Bigsby."

"A classic," he laughed before he asked, "You started playing the song again, didn't you?"

"I did," she confessed. "He knows it."

"Who knows it?"

"Edward, my new bodyguard. He knows the name of it. It's called Come Thee, Child of Mine."

"Did you ask him about it?"

"I did," she admitted. "He just said he heard it a lot when he was little, but I mean, what are the odds that he knew it?"

"Not high," he said. "Is that what set you off?"

"Yes. No. I don't know," she grumbled. "After this morning, I already felt . . . uncomfortable, and then all of that, and by the time we got back here, I was . . . I could feel it again and I . . . I don't know. I just needed to talk to you."

"I'm sorry I wasn't available, Bee."

"How much longer until you're here?"

"A couple hours. On a layover in Vegas. Next flight boards in ten minutes."

"Surprised you aren't hitting up one of the casinos," she said trying to lighten the mood.

"I ain't that stupid," he scoffed. "Are you going to be okay until I get there?"

"I think so."

"Did you tell her? You know she will help you."

"I did, and she did, but she's not you," she confessed.

"I gotta go, Bee. Flights boarding. If it starts again, tell her immediately. Don't try to be brace."

"I will," she promised. "I love you."

"I love you, too, Bee. I'll see you soon."

—TB—

As the afternoon wore on, Bella found herself watching Edward as much as he appeared to be watching her, which was a lot. Carlisle and Jasper changed all the locks on her front door, backdoor, and garage door. Sam placed additional cameras on all four sides of the house, along with the corners of the fence in the backyard, one facing the house from the front fence, and one more right over the door.

Emmett and Rosalie were sorting through the list of people in Bella's life, anyone from Angela who did her hair and make-up for all her shows, to the four man security team the label provided for her shows. Quil, Embry, Jared, and Paul were useless in Bella's opinion, but the label hadn't cared that they were too busy hitting on girls to keep over-zealous fans away from her. The more exposure to her meant the more albums she sold, which meant the label made more money off her.

Unable to sit inside the house with everyone right there, she found herself sitting in the backyard, her knees pulled up to her chest and her notebook open in front of her. She needed an outlet for the feeling inside her, the anxiousness that filled in that moment. He would expect her to talk to Rosalie, who would drop everything to help soothe the anxiety she felt, but Bella didn't want to burden her more than she already did. It wasn't fair that Rosalie felt responsible for her all the time.

"You like the color red, don't you?"

Shifting her eyes to the backdoor, she saw Edward leaning against the side of the house. "No."

"No?" he asked. "You have a lot of red furniture for someone who doesn't like the color red."

"That wasn't my choice," she quipped. "Ro insisted that if I was going to buy this house, I had to furnish it appropriately. She likes red. I don't."

"It's your house, though. Shouldn't you get a say?"

"In theory." She turned her attention back to her notebook. "Did you get my security ramped up to your satisfaction?"

"Yes," he said, and she watched him walk over and sit in the chair across from her. "I know you think we are going overboard."

"I don't," she lied.

He grinned. "You are a terrible liar, Bella."

"Never claimed to be a good one," she quipped, closing her notebook and placing it between her legs and her body. "I just don't like so many people being inside my house. It makes me uncomfortable."

"Bee," Rosalie said, drawing her attention to the back door. "He's pulling into the driveway right now."

Bella spared Edward a look before she dropped her feet off the edge of her chair and stood up, following Rosalie into the house. She reached the front door just as he knocked on the front door. She smiled and pulled the door open. Tall and muscular with dark hair sprinkled with grey he grinned, the corners of his dark eyes crinkling.

"Hey," she whimpered.

"Hey, Bee," he murmured, grinning as he opened his arms.

She couldn't keep from sobbing as she stepped into his embrace, letting him hug her for the first time in three years. He was the only person who she allowed to touch her, the only person who didn't send waves of panic through her at just the thought of their hands on her. He'd been her safe place since she was five years old, the only person who never told her she was crazy for feeling the way she did.

"Oh, I've missed you, Bee," he whispered, kissing the top of her head. "So much."

"I've missed you, too," she cried. "I'm sorry I didn't let you come sooner."

"It's okay, honey. I'm here now. That's all that matters." He kissed the top of her head again. "Now, let me inside."

Bella sniffed back her tears and stepped out of his embrace, waving him inside. He stepped by her and into the living room, leaning his suitcase against the wall as he looked around at everyone, his eyes seeming to linger on Edward for a moment longer than everyone else.

"Hey, Ro," he said, reaching for Rosalie.

"Hey," she whispered, wrapping her arms around him. "I'm so glad you're here."

"Me too, honey, me too." He kept his arm around Rosalie before he turned to Bella. "Aren't you going to introduce me, Bee?"

"Oh, yeah," Bella muttered, but before she should, Carlisle and Jasper walked out of the kitchen.

Carlisle stopped suddenly, his eyes shifting from her to the man with his arm wrapped around Rosalie.

"You son-of-a-bitch," he snarled, hurrying over and grabbing the front of his shirt and slamming him against the wall next to Bella, who screamed and scrambled backward, hitting the door hard. "You've known all this time she was alive and you didn't tell me?"

"Couldn't," the man said, wrapping his fingers around Carlisle's wrists and pushing him away from him with ease. "It wasn't safe, Carlisle."

Carlisle shifted his eyes from him to Bella and back. "You got her out, didn't you?"

"I did. Barely, but I did," he admitted, turning and reaching for Bella. "Come here, Bee. It's okay."

"What the hell is going on?" she asked, walking over and letting him wrap his arm around her. "You know Carlisle?"

"I do. We used to work together twenty-five years ago, when I worked for the F.B.I.," he said.

"What the Hell is going on?" Edward asked, and when she looked at him, she saw the same look in his eyes that she often saw in her own. "Dad, you know her father?"

Carlisle placed his hands on his hips before he nodded. "Charlie and I worked together, like he said. And this changes everything."

"How?" Edward asked.

Carlisle and Charlie shared a look before he said, "Because I think I know who her stalker is."

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