Thanks for hanging on!
Isabella recognizes the serious look on Edward's face. Whatever or whoever he is hiding from, she understands the implications of what would happen if they were exposed. She may not understand all the details, but she knows not to do anything that would put either of them in jeopardy.
So, she does exactly what Edward says. She doesn't move; besides the rise and fall of her chest, she is frozen in place. Her eyes are clenched shut, her back pressed against the wall. Edward towers over her, standing between her and a view of the door on the other side of the wall separating the bar from his office. His hand is still loosely clamped over her mouth, having forgotten he had done it in his haste to silence them both at the sound of the knock on the door.
He is close enough to her now that he feels her body move with each breath she takes, and he wishes to tell her there is nothing to worry about – but he doesn't want to lie. There is always the chance the person at the door could be a guest who is just a little too late for service, arriving minutes after closing. Edward grimaces at the thought; everyone in town knows when The Lost Key opens and closes, and late arrivals are very rare.
What is not rare, Edward thinks as he takes another step closer to Isabella to further block her from view, are threats from Marcus. If the person outside is him, no words will be necessary. He has made his point loud and clear, and it screams deafeningly in Edward's ears as he listens to the footsteps walk away from the door.
He wants Isabella.
At the realization of the potential danger, he opens his eyes and looks down at Isabella, sandwiched between himself and the wall. Maybe on some level, he knew he would wind up here – protecting the woman who barreled into his life, into his pub, without warning. Who showed up without caring about how her mere presence could affect his perfectly planned life. How it could spawn a chain of events that could ultimately throw him onto a completely different trajectory than he had ever thought himself to be on.
His pub, his main source of identity for what feels like a lifetime, is possibly on the verge of becoming entangled in a feud with a neighboring, dangerous pub owner over a woman? How many times has he seen Marcus stake his claim to whatever woman catches his eye? How many times has he done anything to stop it?
Only once before.
His sister couldn't be saved – and now she doesn't seem like she wants to be.
But now, Edward has the urge to suddenly swoop in and stop Marcus from getting what he wants?
He wants to say it's because it's the right thing to do; the women that belong to Marcus always regret the day they met him and can never escape.
But that's not the truth.
The truth stands before him, with wide, brown eyes the color of warm coffee on a cold day and skin the color of snow. She meets his eyes in the dark hallway, looking at him for some type of reassurance that there is nothing to be afraid of.
That he will be the one to protect her.
And Edward knows then and there the real reason why Marcus has to be stopped.
Isabella.
Edward cannot stand the thought of Isabella under Marcus' grasp; he also recoils at the image of Isabella with any other man, for that matter.
The only man he can trust Isabella with is himself.
Not even Emmett, who was instructed not to leave Isabella alone at the end of the shift.
"Where is Emmett?" Edward asks, taking a small step away from her as he lowers his hand from her mouth.
"He left at the same time I did," Isabella answers. "I came back because I forgot my hat."
"All this for a hat," Edward muses aloud, his voice faintly above a whisper as he shakes his head in disbelief.
Still afraid, Isabella steps closer to Edward once more, feeling safer hiding in his shadows. "Who was that at the door?"
Edward sighs, her proximity to him making him suddenly aware of just how precarious their position is.
She is vulnerable and tempting, making him think of things he has tried to push out of his mind for far too long. Being close to her likes this only makes him acknowledge to himself just how much he enjoys it. He can smell her perfume with every turn of her head. He can see her worrying her bottom lip between her teeth as she tries to calm down.
"Edward?" She asks again. "Who was that?"
She is a walking distraction.
He shakes his head as her voice brings him out of his own head. "Not here. Follow me."
Her hand falls into his as easy as breathing, and carefully he leads them to one of the doors in the back. He instructs her to remain quiet once again, and very slowly, he makes sure the coast is clear before walking them outside. Reaching behind her, he wraps an arm around her waist and pulls her against his side so he can lock the door.
Pausing, he looks down at her once he is finished and meets her eyes in the darkness once again. His face softens when he sees how scared she is.
"Are you all right?"
"I'll be fine," Isabella replies, squeezing his hand harder. "Just don't leave me alone."
Edward finds himself squeezing her hand back before he can talk himself out of it.
"I won't," he assures her before checking their surroundings. When he feels it is safe to go, he leads them down the dark and empty streets from behind The Lost Key toward Emmett's place.
"Wake up," Edward says after landing three hard knocks on Emmett's door once they arrive at his place a few blocks down from the pub. "We're going to Rosie's."
He doesn't wait for a response, grabbing Isabella's hand again before continuing down the streets. Emmett mumbles a weak protest but still heads back inside to get dressed, knowing Edward would only demand such a request if it were serious. Judging by the tone of his voice and the way he was guarding Isabella, Emmett doesn't waste any time.
Meanwhile, Edward walks briskly ahead and with purpose, making sure to keep Isabella as close to his side as he can without causing her to worry any more than she already is. Even though he has his eyes all over the city right now, peering around corners and dodging puddles on the uneven cobblestone, Isabella notices the gentle way he holds her hand as they make their way to Rosalie's. It's a contradiction to everything else about him right now. His face is serious and determined, his brows furrowed in thought. His body is stiff, and his gait is powerful, yet every now and then, he looks at Isabella, and a flicker of gentleness washes over his features, briefly, before his mask is back in place.
But he can't fool her.
She knows what she saw.
It has to be; it must be the same feelings she feels whenever he is near. An urge, a need, to talk to him. A tightness in her chest when he sometimes lets her see his smile.
The heat on her skin when she remembers the night he saw her in her robe, the way his eyes unraveled her from head to toe when he saw her in the hallway outside her room.
The way his hand burns her skin as he brings them to Rosalie's.
She knows what he feels.
It screams louder between them as he opens the door to Rosalie's and places a hand on the small of her back as they make their way to the kitchen. Throughout the night, she has gotten used to the weight of his hands on her body and loves how it makes her feel. Protected. Alive. Like a woman – no longer the girl who arrived in Port Angeles all those months ago. They separate when they see Rosalie standing in front of the window, blowing smoke out of the open screen in the kitchen.
"What's this about?" Rosalie asks with a slight smirk as she pretends not to notice the way Edward's hand had dropped from Isabella's back the moment he realized they weren't alone.
Edward ignores her question and skips all pleasantries. "Emmett's on his way. Where's Victoria?"
"Upstairs in her room," Rosalie answers, her eyes bouncing back and forth between Edward and Isabella. "What's going on?" She looks towards Isabella as Edward disappears to presumably bring Victoria down to the kitchen to join them.
Isabella answers her truthfully. "I'm not sure, really."
The front door opens, and Emmett's voice booms from down the hall. "Edward?"
"He's upstairs," Rosalie answers; she and Isabella head to the door to meet him, motioning upstairs. "Come on."
The three of them make their way up to Victoria's bedroom at the end of the hall and walk inside quickly. Emmett shuts the door behind them as Edward and Victoria are already engaged in a heated conversation.
"Does Marcus know where the baby is?" Edward asks Victoria, who is sitting on the edge of her bed with her face looking down at the floor. "Is that the reason for his sudden interest in everything I do?"
"Shocking for you to hear this, but not everything is about you, Edward," Victoria fires back, running a hand down her face. It's been a long day, and it's beginning to look like the night is going to be the same.
"Marcus showing up at my pub after hours has everything to do with me!" Edward yells before he remembers where he is and who can be listening. He takes a step back and stalks towards the small window in Victoria's room to compose himself.
"It was Marcus at the door tonight? How do you know?" Isabella asks, her suspicions confirmed. Even though she is right in her thinking, it doesn't make her feel any better knowing who was there.
No one says anything; all of them are waiting for Edward to fill in everything he is holding back. After a few moments, he speaks but doesn't look away from the window. "He was looking for you," Edward answers with a sigh, now turning to look at Isabella. "I overheard some of his guys talking on my way back from tasting the gin."
"Me?" Isabella asks worriedly. "What could he possibly want from me?"
Rosalie stomps a heeled foot on the ground. "Oh, Jesus Christ."
Emmett already knows but asks anyway to make sure. "What did he want?" Edward looks over at Emmett and answers him with his eyes, and Emmett curses under his breath. "You're sure about this?"
"He hasn't mentioned her name," Victoria adds. "But he wouldn't, anyway."
"This is why I need to know," Edward continues. "Does he know about the baby?"
"How would he? I left before anyone could find out."
"And you haven't told him since you've been back?"
"Why would I?"
"I'm just trying to understand his motives," he answers.
"Are you really all that surprised Isabella has caught his eye?" Victoria scoffs and looks over at Isabella with a joking smile. "She's the town's shiny new toy, and he can recognize a profit when he sees one."
"We won't let that happen," Rosalie tells Isabella reassuringly. "Trust us."
She believes they will try to protect her; she just isn't sure it's possible to stop Marcus from getting what he wants. Somehow she finds it in herself to voice her concerns. "How would you stop him? I don't know him, but from what I've heard, he doesn't seem like a man who takes no for an answer."
"He's doing this for revenge. To get back at me for taking you and his baby out of town." Edward snarls, walking purposefully toward his sister again. "He knows Isabella has a connection to me. To the pub. This is his way of telling me I overstepped."
Victoria is exhausted and is ready to end this conversation for tonight and discuss it tomorrow morning when she's rested and sober, so she stands and points an accusing finger at Edward.
"You may be right. Perhaps he is trying to tell you something. But it's because of you and Isabella, not because of my baby." Her eyes bounce back and forth between the two of them, and she enjoys the look on her brother's face at the mention of Isabella, his newly discovered weakness. Without words, they're all in understanding about the shift that has happened between them.
Ready to end the night once and for all, Victoria flops back down on her bed and faces the wall, but not before dropping one final truth before she succumbs to her exhaustion.
"Marcus didn't know I was pregnant because it wasn't his baby to worry about."
Thanks so much for being patient between updates. See you soon!