15

The second the door was closed behind Edward, Bella settled on the side of the bed, taking a slow, steady breath to calm down. She felt on edge, a feeling she hadn't felt in a long time. Not even after the first letter came in. Letters from fans had just because a way of life for her, giving her line of work. Most of them were innocent enough. They gushed about her music, about how beautiful she was, how she inspired them in ways she never understood, but there had been a few that fantasied about her, lusted after her even. She'd had marriage proposals, prom proposals, and more. Again, it was just part of the gig when it came to being a celebrity. She never let them get to her, though. Not like his letters did.

His letters were different, familiar, and filthy. They talked about how she got him hard, how he loved to touch himself while watching her perform, how he imagined her on her knees in front of him, owning her body and soul. She had always thought the person sending them was just some nobody, whose love of her music had been twisted into something perverse, sick, and disgusting. Now, now, she knew there was more to the letters than she could have ever pictured. More to her than she ever thought. She just had never imagined the pure and utter Hell she had gone through as a baby.

Bella looked up as the door to her room opened, and just like she knew she would the second Edward left, Rosalie was standing in her doorway.

"Hey, Bee," she said, leaving the door open behind her and walking over sitting next to her on the bed. "You okay?"

"No."

"Sorry. That was a stupid question."

Bella nodded.

Rosalie sighed. "I'm worried about you."

"You always worry about me," she scoffed. "I'd gone months without feeling them, you know? I thought maybe I was finally done with that shit, Ro. I had never gone more than a few weeks without feeling their hands on me, and here I was going on months of not feeling them. And I thought I was finally getting over it, I guess. And then the first letter came. I had just wrapped up what? A month in the studio?"

"Closer to two months," Rosalie said. "They kept arguing with you to change your last three song choices, but you won. Told them you weren't going to change your style just to suite what they think will sell better. You sell music, not sex appeal you said. Thought their heads were going to explode, but they gave in. Knew they'd lose more money if they forced your hand."

She nodded. "I was exhausted and all I wanted was to veg out for like three days, eat a bunch of shit, and maybe binge watch Netflix. But instead, I felt them touching me again, and I've felt them every day since."

"I should have called him that night," Rosalie murmured.

"Probably," she whimpered and when she reached for her hands, she pulled away and said, "Please, don't touch me."

"Sorry."

"It's okay." Bella sighed, scooting back on the bed and pulling her knees up to her chest. "I'm just feeling really . . . edgy right now."

"I think we're all feeling edgy right now." Rosalie shifted so that she was sitting with her knees folded in front of her. "I talked to the label before we left town. I tried to get them to pause your media tour, but they said no, Bee."

"Kind of figured they would."

"Emmett said they'll work to increase your security, though."

"Emmett said, huh?" Bella asked, raising an eyebrow. "You and Emmett had a good talk about me?"

Rosalie rolled her eyes, though her cheeks turned red as she spoke, "Couldn't very well sit in a car with him for three hours without speaking to the man."

"You could have," she suggested. "You like him, don't you?"

"I don't even know him," she denied, though there was something in the way she spoke that made Bella question the truth behind the words. "But he seems to care about you."

"He doesn't even know me."

"He knows more than you think."

"Of course he does," she groused, tightening her arms around her knees. "They all do, don't they?"

Rosalie nodded.

"It's weird, you know? They know things about me that I don't, things I've been through. They watch me, like they've been watching me my entire life, Ro, yet I've never met them before."

"I'm worried, Bee. About you, about Edward, about both of you."

Bella sighed.

"I know, I know," Rosalie grumbled, putting her hand up. "I shouldn't worry about you, but I do. We both do."

"Why did you choose Edward's company in the first place?"

Rosalie bit the inside of her lip.

"That's what I thought. He told you to go to him, didn't he?"

"He did," she admitted. "He said Edward would be the one person who could keep you safe, since you refused to let him come down."

Bella rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I'm stubborn. I know."

"Nothing wrong with being stubborn, Bee." Rosalie reached up and placed her hand on the side of her face, ignoring the way she flinched. "I'm going to head downstairs, make some calls and try one more time to get the label to postpose your media tour a few weeks. If you need me . . ."

"I just need some time alone, Ro, but thanks."

She nodded and climbed off the bed, walking across the room, and closing the door behind her.

—TB—

Bella had been slowly strumming her guitar, trying to lose herself in any song other than the one that was always stuck inside her head. The one that made Edward leave her. She didn't like it when he wasn't there, though she couldn't find the words to beg him to stay by her side, to let her hold his hand, to help ease the pain and fear inside her heart. Why did he affect her so much?

She was startled when she heard a noise outside of her bedroom door. She slipped off the bed, placing her guitar on the soft blanket before she slowly walked across the room, placing her hand on the thick, wooden door. She could hear the muffled sobs from the other side, and for reasons she couldn't understand, they had her heart racing, her knees weakening, and she reached for the doorknob before she could stop herself. She pulled the door open, barely able to keep from gasping when she found Edward on his knees. He looked up at her, his eyes filled with tears that seeped down his face.

Bella knelt in front of him. She raised her hand, not consciously making the decision to touch him, but when her hand came to rest on the side of her face, she felt the strangest sensation. A calmness she had never felt before, a peace that she had longed to feel for twenty-five years.

She shifted so that she was on her knees and brought her other hand up, cradling the other side of his face. He stared at her, hurt and sorrow in his eyes. She didn't say anything as she shifted so that she was seated in front of him, her hands still cradling his face. Their eyes were locked on one another, their souls connected in a way she had only read about in silly romance novels.

"I'm sorry," he whimpered.

"Why are you sorry?"

"I shouldn't have bothered you."

"You didn't."

Edward scoffed, but leaned into her touch.

"Why are you outside of my room?"

He frowned, his eyes closing. "I don't know. I just . . . I hadn't let myself think about what we went through in a long time. Not since your first album came out, when I realized you weren't dead."

"Why didn't you come to me then?"

"How could I? I . . ." Edward sighed and shook his head, pulling his face from between her hands. "I thought you were free."

"Free?" she murmured, scooting backward so that she was leaning against the doorframe and pulling her knees up against her chest. "Freedom isn't something I've ever felt, Edward. I may not have the memories, like you do, but I think I've always known something had happened to me. Probably why Charlie didn't want me to leave Wyoming."

"He didn't?"

She shook her head. "He . . . he and I argued for weeks over it. It was the first, and only, time in my life that I thought I would lose him, but I had to get out of there, away from being that little girl who had panic attacks every time someone came close to her. People were scared of me, they avoided me and I hated the way they looked at me, like I was dangerous, you know?"

"I do."

"The night before Ro and I left, I had had a really bad episode," she whimpered. "I woke up in the middle of the night, the feeling of someone on top of me, their hands and . . ." Bella closed her eyes, blowing out a deep breath. "I was thrashing around on my bed so hard, I knocked my lamp off my nightstand. And then he was there, holding me, telling me everything was okay, helping me break through the panic and fear that filled me. Once I'd calmed down, I thought for sure he was going to insist that I wasn't ready to leave, but he didn't."

"Why didn't he?"

She smiled and shrugged her shoulders. "He said that no matter what, no matter where I went, he would always be by my side. All I had to do was call."

"Did you?"

She nodded. "Every fucking day. Sometimes ten times a day."

"Why didn't you let him come visit you in three years?"

She rolled her eyes. "Because when he's here, I feel like that little girl, Edward, and I don't like feeling like that." She brought her hand up to the side of her head. "You never told me what it was like to grow up with brothers."

"I told you it was chaotic."

"But you didn't tell me how it was chaotic."

Edward sighed and shifted so that he was leaning against the wall, bending his knees up in front of him. "They were good brothers. Took a long time before I could handle being alone with him, but they never pushed for more, always stood up for me when I needed them."

"Are they older than you?"

Edward nodded. "Emmett is the oldest. He just turned thirty-five last month. Jasper is thirty-two. His birthday is in four months."

"And you all work together in private security?"

Edward nodded. "After Dad retired from the F.B.I., he started our company. Taught us everything he knew, made sure we were able to protect ourselves."

"Like self-defense?"

He smiled and nodded. "From the time I was eight, he started teaching me how to fight, how to protect myself. Said . . . said the world was filled with men like the Brothers and I had to learn to take care of myself, not to be a victim anymore."

"Did it help?"

"Most of the time. Gave me confidence and courage when I needed it. The tools when I needed a little more than confidence and courage."

"Like what exactly did he teach you?"

Edward raised an eyebrow, but said, "Um, he started with the basics: how to block a punch, throw a punch, where the most sensitive parts of a person's body are. Feet, knees, and stomach. He also taught me to fight dirty. Said they aren't going to care if they hurt me, so I damn well better learn to hurt them back. Once I got to the point where I wasn't having meltdowns every time he or my brothers came at me, he taught me different martial arts: Karate, Taekwondo, and Judo. I learned how to use a knife, shoot a gun."

"Was it hard? To dip into that side of the things?"

Edward nodded. "At first."

"Did it make you feel safer?"

"No."

"No?" she asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"No, Bella, all it did was give me the tools to hopefully keep things like that from happening to me again, but I don't feel safe. I've never felt safe, because while I didn't know that he was still out there, I knew there are a thousand of him out there just waiting for some little boy, or girl," he added, shifting his eyes away from hers, "they can hurt. I've never felt more unsafe than I do right now."

"Why did you take me on as a client if you don't feel safe?"

"Because when I saw you standing in my office, I knew I couldn't not help you."

"Why?"

"I told you."

"You said I was important, that I was the only constant you remember, but why did you say yes when Ro and I came to your office?"

"Because when I looked into your eyes, Bella, I saw the same lost, scared little girl that's haunted me for twenty-five years. I couldn't not help you. Just wasn't prepared for him to be back."

"If it is him," she said, tilting her head to the side. "What if it's not?"

"It is."

"But what if it's not?" she asked. "They're saying it is because you and I are connected, because we were once those little kids who were tortured and abused by sick, sadistic cult, but what if it's not? What if it's someone else?"

"Someone else wouldn't have written about you the way he did."

"How do you know?"

"Because his letters were personal, intimate, filled with longing, Bella. I don't know where's been hiding, or why it's taken him twenty-five years resurface, but nobody else would have known about the Black and White Desert Roses. He was the only one who liked them, and he only had them when he picked both of us."

"How can you know that?"

"Because no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't forget those fucking flowers. Like the song, Bella, it's just a part of my nightmares."

"Am I a part of your nightmares?" she asked, unable to stop herself. When he shifted his eyes back to her, she knew he was going to say, "Yes," even before the word left his lips.

"Sometimes," he added.

"Why are you here, Edward?"

"I told you —"

"That I'm important to you, I know, but if I'm a reminder of the worst part of your life, why are you here? Why do you care if he gets ahold of me again?"

"Why do I care?" he asked, shaking his head and shifting so that he was on his knees. He kept his eyes locked on her. "Do you just not understand, Bella? When I say you're important, I don't mean that you're just important. You're the most important person in my life."

Bella wasn't sure what to say, how to respond, and in that moment, she didn't have to because the sound of someone clearing their throat, starling both of them, and when they looked down the stairs to the second floor landing, Bella saw Alice leaning against the railing, her arms folded in front of her, and a glare pointed directly at her.

"Sorry to interrupt, but he wants everyone in the living room. You know, go over the ground rules and shit. If you can pull yourself away from America's Sweetheart long enough."

"Al," Edward grumbled, but released his hold on her face as he scrambled to his feet. "We talked about this."

Alice rolled her eyes.

"What the fuck is your problem with me?" Bella asked, standing up and drawing the woman's attention to her. "You've been a bitch since day one."

"Sorry if I'm not going to kiss your ass, princess. I am here to do a job, and I will do that job, not for you, but for him. Believe it or not, the world doesn't revolve around you, and you are not the only one in harm's way anymore."

"I never said I was," Bella argued. "But seeing as I am paying a lot of money for protection, I don't think it's unreasonable to expect my money's worth."

Alice laughed and shook her head. "Oh, Honey, you're not paying a pretty little penny. We're here because if we weren't, he'd be doing this on his own, and while the rest of us don't give two shits about you, Bella, he is our family, and he is important to all of us."

And without giving her the chance to say anything else, Alice turned and walked back downstairs. Bella wrapped her arms around her torso as she looked at Edward, whose jaw was so tight, she thought it might break.

"Guess I know where she stands, huh?"

"I'll talk to her again."

Bella snorted. "Don't bother, Edward. Is she right, though? About me not paying you for your protection?"

Though he paused for a moment, he nodded. "Dad said the minute he came into the picture, it became personal. He refuses to accept compensation for protecting his family, and though Al may not see it that way, Bella, you are just as important to my family as you are to me." He seemed to take a deep breath before he stretched his hand out toward her. "You can trust me."

"How can I be sure that I can trust you, Edward? You've known about me your entire life, while I've just learned that you're the little boy with the red hair and freckles."

"That's how you know." He closed the small space between them, and lifted his hands up, placing them on either side of her face, causing her to inhale a shallow, emotional breath. "You may not have known my name, but you've known who I was since we were five years old. Trust me, Bella. Please, just trust me."

"Edward," she whimpered, her eyes closing as she leaned into his hand.

"I know, sweetheart," he whispered and a moment later, she felt his lips press against her forehead. "I know."

Her eyes opened as she felt his hand slide down her neck, along her arm, and thread his fingers in with his. She simply nodded, unable to voice the feelings inside her accurately. Hell, she didn't even understand the feelings inside her, the way he made her feel better just by being close to her.

Edward kept a tight hold on her hand as they started downstairs. When they arrived in the living room, they found Charlie and Carlisle standing next to the front door, while Jasper had his arm wrapped tightly around Alice, who once again glared at her like every bad thing that had happened to Edward was her fault.

Emmett was seated next to Rosalie, who was stiff and uncomfortable, yet Bella saw the way she peeked at the man sitting next to her. Esme walked out of the kitchen, drying her hands on a dishtowel, and upon seeing Edward and Bella together, she smiled, cleared her throat, and tossed the towel over her shoulder, drawing Charlie and Carlisle's attention to them.

"Hey, Bee," Charlie said, hurrying over to her and placing his hands on either side of her face. "You okay?"

She shook his hands off as she said, "No."

"Suppose that was a stupid question," he chuckled, though it sounded tense and he looked over at Edward. "Should I ask you, Edward?"

"No."

"That's fair, I guess." Charlie dropped his hands to his hips and looked from him back to her. "Have a seat. We'll make this quick."

"Make what quick?" she asked, scooting closer to Edward as Alice turned her glare onto her again.

"Just a couple ground rules we would ask anyone to follow," Carlisle said, smiling as he walked over and stood next to his wife and then gestured toward the two couches.

Though, the last thing Bella wanted was to sit next to any of them. Alice was too busy glaring at her and Emmett was too big for her to feel comfortable next to, so she simply shook her head and pulled backward, sitting on the steps. Edward sat next to her, their hands still wrapped tightly around each other's.

"Okay, first, I'd . . . We'd," he said, gesturing toward Esme, "like to welcome you, Charlie, and Rosalie to our home, Bella. Please make yourself comfortable."

"Thank you, Carlisle, we appreciate you having us," Charlie said, glancing from Rosalie to Bella first.

"Of course," he said, nodding. "All we ask is that you don't venture away from the house alone. We are in the wild, so to speak, and there are coyotes, black bears, bobcats, and such in the area. They don't typically come close to the house when we are here, but safety comes first. Just use the buddy system, be smart."

Carlisle paused, his eyes shifting to Edward before he said, "I've reached out to an associate that we've worked with a time or two before, Bella, to help provide you with adequate security when it's time to reenter society, so to speak."

She felt Edward tense, and when she looked at him, he was glaring at the floor.

"Edward, we talked about this."

"I know," he told his father.

"Who is this person?" Bella asked, causing Edward to look at her before she turned toward Carlisle. "And why do I think it's not a good idea to bring them in?"

"His name is Felix. He's intense, Bella."

Jasper and Emmett scoffed, not that their father reacted to it.

He simply put his hands up in front of him and continued to say, "He's an expert tracker, and knows a thing or two about cults and their followers."

"A thing or two," Edward scoffed, and when she looked back at him, she saw that he had stood up and walked up three steps. "He knows more than a thing or two, Dad. Tell her the truth about him."

"Edward."

"Tell her, Dad!" he snarled, taking another step upward. "Tell her."

"Tell me what?" she asked, and when she turned, she noticed the concern on Alice's face as she watched Edward breaking down and in that brief moment, she saw the woman who cared about him. But, of course, she noticed Bella watching her and turned to glare at her instead.

"Bella, Felix's mother used to be a member of the Gathering of Twilight."

Bella stared at Carlisle for a long, tense moment before she shook her head. "I'm sorry. He what?"

Carlisle dropped his hands to his hips. "Felix was five years old when his mother managed to escape in the middle of the night with him. He . . . Bella, Felix is the son of Marcus's Volturi."

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