8

While Carlisle and the man named Charlie seemed to just stare at each other, Edward found himself watching her. She was nestled his arms, letting him hold her. He was the only person who she seemed comfortable enough to allow to touch her, including Rosalie. She looked at him with love and admiration, pride and adoration, and Edward worried how much that would change when she knew the truth about the early years of their lives.

Would it better if she never knew — like really knew — what they had done to them? To her? Maybe she was lucky not to have those memories. It had taken Edward the better part of a year before he could sleep with the light off, after all, and he hadn't gone through as much as her. None of them had.

"You think it's him?" Charlie asked, and Carlisle shifted his eyes from him to Bella then to Edward before nodding. "So you don't think he died, either."

"No," Carlisle scoffed, folding his arms in front of him. "Son-of-a-bitch was too clever for that shit."

"Who are you talking about?" Bella asked, and when everyone looked at her, she pulled herself out of Charlie's arms and said, "Someone had better start explaining right now!"

"Calm down, Bee," Charlie said, reaching for her and pulling her back into his arms. "We'll explain, I promise. Let's just sit down, okay?"

"Yeah, okay," she whispered, her eyes shifting to Edward for a moment before she looked away.

She and Charlie settled on the smaller of the couches, while Carlisle, and Edward sat on the bigger couch. Rosalie settle on the arm of the couch next to Charlie, who smiled and draped his arm across her legs. While Emmett and Jasper leaned against the wall next to the sliding black door, Edward could feel himself tensing up, struggling to keep their secrets to himself. There were parts of him that even Emmett and Jasper didn't know. The only consolation was that Sam had left half an hour ago to meet up with Alice. While they would have to confide in their team member if Carlisle's assumptions were right, it didn't feel right to bare all their secrets in front of him. They were her secrets as much as they were his.

"As I said," Charlie started, gesturing toward Carlisle, "he and I used to work from the F.B.I. together. We were partners for the better part of a decade."

"We came out of the academy together," Carlisle added. "Kicked his ass on almost everything."

Charlie scoffed, shook his head, but didn't deny the claim. "We were called in on a case out of Washington, little town called Forks where the remains of four people — two adult males and two adult females — had been found about five mile up the mountain. The women were in their early to mid-twenties, and both had given birth within hours of their deaths. They died from a gunshot wound to the back of the head."

"The men were around the same age, and had been shot once in the back of the head, as well. Though, both men showed signs of extreme physical trauma. They had been beaten without ten hours of their deaths," Carlisle added. "Medical Examiner estimated that they had been dead around three years before their bodies were found. It took a while, but we were able to identify them as Renee and Phillip Dwyer and Elizabeth and Edward Masen."

Charlie leaned down and pressed his lips against the top of her head. "Bee, Renee and Phillip . . . They were your parents, honey."

"My parents?" she asked, frowning. "They were my parents, and they were murdered?"

Charlie nodded.

"Wait," she said, standing up and putting her hands up in front of her. "You've known who my parents were from day one?"

No, it wasn't until after you were hurt that I was able to match your DNA to theirs," he admitted, standing up and reaching for her, but she pulled away. "Bee, when you woke up, you had no clue who you were, what had happened to you. I thought I was protecting you!"

"By lying to me? How was that helping me, Charlie?"

"You were a little girl, Bee. You'd . . ." Charlie shook his head, placing his hands on his hips. "The people who killed your parents, Bee, they weren't good people. They . . . they killed your mom and dad to get to you."

"Why? Why me?"

"It took us awhile to put all the pieces together, but your parents were reported missing out of Forks when they were fifteen. They were considered troubled kids, Bella. They both were known to be drug users, had gotten expelled from school after getting caught selling drugs to students. When they disappeared, the police just wrote them off as runaways, since it wasn't the first time they'd left town. They weren't seen again for almost six years, when they showed up back in Forks with Elizabeth and Edward Masen in tow. They refused to tell authorities where they had been, but police reports state they were skittish, nervous. Private. They set up house just outside of the town's limits, weren't seen much, either."

"When they disappeared again six months later, police assumed they had left town like they had before. It wasn't until their bodies were found that they even realized Renee and Elizabeth were pregnant," Carlisle said, lobbing his head to the side as he looked at Edward, before reaching out and placing his hand on his shoulder.

He tried to keep from flinching, but couldn't stop himself from recoiling from his father's touch. He, of course, already knew most of this. Carlisle had told about his parents in the months after he was rescued. Years of therapy had helped him cope, yet he never understood how his parents got involved with monsters like that in the first place.

"Edward's parents were Edward and Elizabeth Masen, Bella," Carlisle shifted his eyes back to her. "Like your parents, his were reported as runaways when they sixteen years old, and like yours, they were considered troubled, so the authorities didn't put a lot of effort to find them."

Her eyes locked on his as she asked, "You're saying he and I were born on the same day, our parents murdered, and we were . . . we were what? Kidnapped?"

"That's exactly what we are saying," Carlisle said, frowning.

Bella closed her eyes for a moment before she looked back at Edward. "Did you know all of this when you took me on as a client?

Edward nodded.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't think it was related," he lied.

Bella snorted, her arms wrapping around her torso. "But apparently it's all related, isn't it? I've spent the last twenty-five years not knowing when my fucking birthday was, not knowing how I ended up on the side of that highway, for fuck sake! But, hey, it wasn't important enough to tell me, right?"

"Bee, language," Charlie scolded.

"You know what? Fuck that and fuck you," she said, causing him to raise an eyebrow. "You've been lying to me for twenty-five years, Charlie. How could you lie to me like that?"

"I just . . . I wanted you to have a chance to live without those memories."

"Bella, I know this is a lot to take in," Carlisle said, removing his hand from Edward's shoulder and standing up. "Just let us explain, okay?"

Sighing, she nodded, but didn't take the seat next to Charlie. Edward could see the fear in her eyes, knowing the same look was in his. He hated thinking about them, about what they did to them. Over the last twenty-five years, he had conditioned himself not to let them inside his head again. Not let her inside his head again. The little brown haired girl who was supposed to be dead, he thought. He thought he had failed her, too.

"It took us a while to figure out the why you were kidnapped, why your parents were murdered, where they had spent the better of six years."

Charlie cleared his throat and stood up, walking to the far side of the room before he turned and looked right at Bella. "When your parents — both of your parents — ran away, they joined the Gathering of Twilight, a cult lead by three brothers: Aro, Caius, and Marcus Volutri. Their compound was located in West Virginia, just outside of Elkins. Your parents fled not long after finding out they were pregnant with the two of you. The brothers tracked them down, killed them, and kidnapped you."

"Wait, just wait!" she exclaimed, putting her hands up. Edward could see them shaking. "Why? Why would take us like that? I don't . . . I don't . . ." Bella shook her head, shuttered as her fingers curled into tight fists. "They hurt us, didn't they?"

"Bee," Charlie said, taking a step toward her, but stopping when she screamed, "Don't touch me."

She closed her eyes, taking a slow, deep breath in through her nose and out through her mouth. "Please, don't touch me. I can't . . . I can't handle that right now. I'm sorry."

"Hey, don't be sorry, Bee. I'm not going to touch you," Charlie said, causing her to open her eyes. "It's just me, honey. Just me."

"That's why I feel people touching me all the time, isn't it?" she cried, wrapping her arms around her torso. "Isn't it, Charlie?"

"Yeah, Bee, that's why."

She brought a hand up to her mouth as tears cascaded down her cheeks. "It wasn't just physical abuse, was it?"

"No," Charlie whispered, and when she closed her eyes, he said, "Bee, look at me."

She opened her eyes. "Did . . . did they try to kill me?"

"Yes," Charlie replied, stretching his hand out toward her. She shifted her eyes to Edward before she placed her hand on top of his and allowed him lead her back to the couch, sitting with her right next to him. "Carlisle and I knew the only way we were going to bust our case open was from the inside. We went in undercover, and it didn't take long to get enough to take them down. However, the brothers got word that we were about to raid them, and decided if they were going down, everyone was going down. They had set several homemade bombs to go off on a timer, and at exactly midnight on August the thirteenth, your fifth birthday, a series of explosions went off inside the compound. Most of the members pulled a Jonestown and killed their children before themselves, but as we sorted through the rubble, we only found two survivors," he said, smiling weakly at her.

"You and Edward were found huddle together inside a small metal cabinet beneath a wall that had collapsed. Edward was relatively unharmed. A few cuts and bruises, but you, Bee, you had a severe head injury. The doctors didn't think you were going to make it more than a day. You slipped into a coma and as each day passed, I became attached to you, I guess. When you finally woke up and I realized you had no memory of who you were, what you had been through, I thought you were getting a second chance at a normal life. I retired from the F.B.I., adopted you and we settled in Wyoming. Think we've had a pretty good life."

"A life made up of lies," she whispered, slipping her hand from between his.

"Bee," he said with a sigh.

But she shook her head, her eyes shifting between each of them, landing on Edward last. "I'm sorry. I just . . ."

Bella stood up and fled the room and a moment later, Edward heard the sound of her door being slammed. Rosalie stood to follow, but he put his hand up, stopping her before he followed. He paused outside of her bedroom door, taking a deep breath before he raised his hand and knocked.

"I don't want to talk to you right now, Ro!" she screamed just before the door opened. "Oh, it's you." She looked past him. "What are you doing outside of my bedroom?"

"Just checking on you. Making sure you're okay."

"Doing your job, right?" she asked, reaching up and placing her hand on the locket around her neck. "Did he send you?"

"No."

"Did she?"

Edward laughed softly. "No."

"Did you know? About me before today? Did you know me?"

"Yes."

Bella's eyes closed as she turned and walked over to her bed, sitting on the side. "Do you remember what happened to us?"

"Enough to haunt me for the rest of my life," he admitted, slowly stepping into the room and knowing better than to shut the door. Always leave an exit open, he thought to himself. Survival step number one. She opened her eyes and watched as he sat in the chair in the corner, which of course was red. "I don't remember names or face. Just smells, and . . . the feel of their hands. I can hear them singing that song. I remember fire and pain and agony following."

"Feel them all over your body, holding you down," she cried. "The weight of them on top of you, the feel of them . . . of them inside you."

Bella leaned forward, placing her free hand on her knee. Edward could hear her trying to calm her breathing, trying to stop the panic that filled her as she fiddled with the locker around her neck. He slipped from the chair and knelt in front of her, reached up slowly, and placed his fingers under the locket, careful not to touch her. He opened it, finding himself staring at the same picture he had. The little boy with red hair and freckles, holding the hand of the little girl dark hair.

"It's you, isn't it? You're the little boy?" she asked.

"I am. I have this same picture of us."

"You do?"

He nodded. "I thought you were dead. We thought you were dead," he said, releasing the locket and leaning backward and gesturing toward his brothers and father in the living room. "Until you released your first album, of course."

"Why didn't you tell me you knew me two days ago?"

"You don't remember, and I . . . I remembered enough for both of us, I guess."

Bella inhaled a sharp breath. "Is that you think? That just because I don't have the memories that I'm okay?"

"I did," he admitted. "Until I started watching you, observing you over the last two days."

"And what did observing me tell you?"

"That you remember more than you even realize."

"I feel them all the time," she whimpered. "Their hands, their bodies, all the time. Holding me down, touching me. Sometimes I can't . . . I can't even scream for help. I just have to lay there until the feeling eases up."

"So do I."

"Yeah?"

"Especially at night." Edward nodded, dropping his hands to his knees. "Most of the time I can control my reaction better, especially with my family. My brothers, my mom and dad, but ever since you walked into my office, I've been having a hard time keeping myself centered, focused."

"Why'd you take on my case, Edward?"

"Because I can't stand by and let someone hurt you. Not again."

"You really thought I was dead?"

Swallowing against the lump in his throat, Edward nodded. "I thought I failed you, Bella. I've spent my entire life thinking I failed you, and then one day, I was in the grocery store and there you were on the cover of Rolling Stone. You'd just released your first full album and your single had already hit number one. Stayed number one on the charts for like four months."

"Five," she whispered.

He smiled. "My bad. Five months."

"So you what? You've just watched me from a far?"

Edward shrugged his shoulders. "Not in the way you're making it sound."

"Sorry, I didn't mean it like that. I just. . ." Bella shook her head and stood up, wrapping her arms around herself as she walked to the far side of the room, almost like she was trying to find her center. "You asked me why I got into the business. Truth is music is the only part of my life that makes any sense, Edward. My career is the only part of my life that is controllable, and even that I can't do without Ro by my side almost all the time. And now I find out that my father has kept a huge part of who I am a secret from me, and I get why. I do, because I don't have those memories. I woke in a hospital in a full panic attack with no idea how I got there. My life is out of control, Edward, and I don't know how to get that control back. And I need it back."

"You let us help you."

Edward and Bella looked toward the doorway of her bedroom, where they found Charlie leaning with his arms folded in front of him.

"Bee, I'm sorry if I hurt you. I was just trying to protect you."

Bella nodded, her eyes shifting to Edward. "Can you give us a minute alone?"

"Yeah, sure," he replied.

Though the last thing he wanted was to leave her alone with the man who had spent the last twenty-five years lying to her, he walked past Charlie and out into the hallway, turning as the man closed the door behind them. Clenching his hands into tight fists, he walked back into the living room, where he found Carlisle, Emmett, and Jasper gathered by the front door while Rosalie stood next to the back door. The four turned and looked at him, only Rosalie seemed the smallest bit relieved.

"Is she okay?"

"No," he admitted, shaking his head. "Did you know? About her, I mean?"

"No," she said with a sigh. "I mean it doesn't take a genius to figure out that she's been through a lot, but I never pushed for more than she could tell me. She's my best friend, Edward. I just try to be her person when she needs me to be, keep her safe, protect her from people getting too close."

"You've been friends for a long time."

"Met Bee when I was ten years old and my dad decided we needed a little more downtime compared to city life. Bee and I became best friends, and when my parents died in a car accident when we sixteen and I thought my world was ending, she and Charlie became my family. It's been the three of us a long time." Rosalie put her hands up as she walked up to Edward. "He's everything to her, Edward. We can't let her push him away just because she's mad. She won't survive without him."

"Why hasn't he been here in three years if he's so important to her?"

"Not because I didn't try." Looking over his shoulder, he found Charlie standing with his arm wrapped around Bella, whose eyes were red and puffy. "I would have been here every day if she had let me, Edward, but Bee's a little stubborn and always told me no. I vowed a long time ago not to be another man in her life who took her choices away from her."

Bella rolled her eyes, which almost made Edward laugh. "You shouldn't have to be here, holding me together all the time. I'm an adult, Charlie."

"Yeah, well, I'm here now, so deal with it, honey," he said, winking at her.

She smiled, her eyes flickering to Edward before she looked at Carlisle. "You said you know who my stalker is."

"Actually, I said I think I know who your stalker is," he replied with a grin that was quickly faded as he looked from her to Charlie and back. "We only found two of the brothers' bodies in the aftermath of the explosions. Aro and Caius. Marcus' body was never found, Bella. The theory had been that he was the closest to the explosion and there wasn't enough of him left to identify, but I never believed that myself. The man was quiet — too quiet."

"You think Marcus is the man stalking me?"

Carlisle nodded. "I do. His letters are personal, intimate, and if I'm right, then you are in great danger, Bella."

"Why?"

"Bella, you were his prize possession, and he won't stop until he gets his hands on you again."

Thank you for all the AMAZING reviews! So we have the basics of what happened to Edward and Bella. Do me a solid and leave me a few words about this chapter.