17

"Hey, I wasn't sure you would be here when I got home."

Edward looked over at Carlisle as he hurried inside. "Why not?"

He shrugged. "Just didn't. I'm glad, though."

"You are?"

He smiled. "Yeah."

"Why?"

Carlisle walked over and laid on top of Edward, the full length of his body pressing against his had Edward moaning, which caused him to smirk. "Because I love causing you to make that sound. Turns me on."

"Everything turns you on."

"Everything about you turns me on, babe." Carlisle kissed him, softly at first before deepening the kiss by sticking his tongue into his mouth. He pulled away, shifting so that he was lying next to him on the couch. "I'm worried about you."

"Why?"

"Feels like you're pulling away."

"I'm not." Edward turned onto his side, his hands coming to rest on his hips. "I promise I'm not."

"We should go away for a few days."

"We can't."

"Why not?"

"Because of everything that's happened over the last week." Edward sighed. "They watched us. Me and Bella. All fucking day, they watched us, whispered about us. Judging her because of her father, me because the man doesn't think I'm good enough to date his daughter. I mean it's not like it's not a well-known fact that my father is drunk, piece of shit who puts his hands on my mom. But I never thought they would look at me like that."

"I'm sorry, babe. I'm so sorry."

"Not your fault," Edward whispered, leaning his head against his chest. "Being in your arms makes everything better."

"For me, too."

Edward and Carlisle's private moment was interrupted when they heard a door upstairs opening and closing followed by the sound of footsteps. They sat up just as Bella and Esme hurried downstairs, their hands wrapped around each other's. Edward had been worried about Bella. She'd fallen apart the moment Esme's arms wrapped around her, and Esme gave Edward a look before carting her upstairs.

"Sorry to interrupt, but Peter should be here soon," Esme said, giving Carlisle a look. "He texted me when he left the city. Said he's bringing a friend."

"A friend?" Carlisle scoffed, rolling his eyes. "They're always friends."

Edward stood and walked to the other couch, sitting down.

"Babe?" Carlisle asked, raising an eyebrow. "You're seriously not still jealous, are you?"

"I'm not the one who just scoffed about Peter's friend, am I?" Edward quipped, earning him a smirk. "What?"

"You're just so sexy when you're jealous."

Edward rolled his eyes.

"I told you Peter and I haven't been together in two years." Carlisle sat next to him. "You're the first man I've been with since him. I don't do casual hook ups, Edward. When I made the decision to be with you, I did so knowing that you're end game for me."

"Yeah?" he asked, smiling.

"Yes, so please don't worry about Peter. The fact that he's bringing his, um, friend, means he's moved on, too."

"Okay, okay, I'll try."

When they heard the crunch of tires outside, the four stood and looked at each other before turning their attention to the door. Carlisle squeezed Edward's hand before letting go and walking over and yanking the front door open. Edward fought to urge to follow, to stake his claim in his man.

"He's different with you," Esme whispered, causing Edward to look at her. "Carlisle is different with you than he has been with . . . anyone else. Trust that he loves you, Edward, and only you."

"I'm trying. I've just never felt like this before."

"Trust me," she murmured, looking at Bella, who was still standing at the base of the stairs, like she was preparing to make a break for it. "I know. I fucking know."

"Hey, thanks for coming," they heard Carlisle say from the front porch followed by a deep laugh and someone saying, "Hell, man, how could I not? Needless to say I'm . . . Well, let's call it intrigued by the new man in your life."

"Peter," Carlisle warned.

A moment later, Carlisle led Peter and his 'friend' into the house. In a black, Italian suit that probably cost more than Edward's house was worth, it wasn't hard to tell which one was Peter. He was tall, thin, and handsome with a head full of thick, blond hair and bright blue eyes. There was a cockiness around him that reminded him of Mike Newton, something that didn't sit well with him. Was this really the kind of man Carlisle was attracted to?

The man standing just behind him cleared his throat. Unlike Peter, he was wearing a pair of blue jeans with holes in the knee and a black T-shirt with a red and white bullseye. He had shaggy brown hair and dark eyes that flickered around the room, landing on Edward for just a second before he looked back at Peter and cleared his throat.

"Someone should probably introduce us before he has a fucking heart attack."

"Garrett," Peter scolded, causing him to shrug. Rolling his eyes, he looked back at Carlisle. "He's got a point. Your boy is glaring at me pretty damn hard."

There was something in the way he said 'boy' that pissed Edward off, but before he could offer any kind of a rebuttal, Carlisle spoke. "Don't call him a boy, Peter. He's important."

"I'm sorry," he laughed, putting his hands up. "Introduce us so we can get down to business."

Carlisle walked over to Edward, sliding his arm around his waist. "Edward Masen, this is Peter Davis and his boy, Garrett Mitchell."

"It's nice to meet you," Edward said, trying to sound polite.

"You too, Edward," Garrett said, placing his hand on Peter's back before he could say something rude and condescending. "And who are they?"

"That's Esme, the wife," Peter said, giving Garrett a look before turning to Bella. "And she must be the woman of the hour. Bella Swan, it's nice to meet you."

"I can't say the same," Bella replied. "Are you going to be able to keep my father away from me?"

"I am," he said. "Why don't we sit and we can talk about it?"

Bella shifted her eyes to Edward before nodding and moving from the stairs, taking hold of Esme's hand, and sitting on the couch. Carlisle and Edward joined them, leaving Peter and Garrett to sit across from them. The air was thick with tension and anticipation.

"First things first. I filed for an order of protection on your behalf against your father, Bella. If, by some miracle, he is released on bail, he won't be allowed to be within five hundred feet of you. I also managed to get this," he said, reaching into an inside pocket of his jacket and pulling out a purple iPhone, "from evidence. Figured you might want it back."

"Thanks," she said, taking it from him and pressing the power button, but of course, it was dead. "Did anyone else go through it?"

"Not that I can tell."

She nodded, shifting it from one hand to the other and looking at Esme for a moment before turning her attention back to Peter. "So, what now?"

"Well, first, they are taking your father to Seattle next week for his psychological evaluation. The D.A. has agreed to send me the results of his evaluation immediately, much to young Riley Biers' chagrin."

"You know him?"

"I do," Peter said, causing Garrett to roll his eyes. "Don't mistake his youth and naivety as a weakness, Bella. This might be his first major case, but the man is clever and your father isn't making it easy."

"So what? So he just gets away with putting his hands on me? For going after Edward's mother!" Bella scrambled to her feet.

"Of course not!" Peter said, raising his hands in front of him as he stood. "I'm fighting for you, Bella."

"Why?"

"What do you mean why?"

"I mean just that. Why are you fighting for me? You don't know me, or Edward, or what we've been dealing with all week!" Bella wrapped her arms around herself, and before he could stop himself, Edward embraced her, placing one hand against the back of her head. "They stare at us. Before we pretended to start dating, they never paid attention to me, to who I was interested in. I was just . . . I was just mousy, little Bella Swan. Good enough to talk to at school, but not good enough to hang out any other time. And then I caught them together, and I thought . . . I thought this was our chance, mine and Esme, his and Carlisle's, to really be together. We could fake it for a few months, you know? Just long enough until we could really start over somewhere. But my father wouldn't let that happen, because in his mind I belong to someone else. And I don't understand why. I need to understand why."

"And I hope we can find out why, Bella. I truly do, but until them, we're going to have keep it together, honey."

"Don't call me honey," she quipped, tearing herself out of Edward's arms. "I am not a child, so please do not treat me like one."

"I'm sorry," Peter said, softly. "I don't mean to offend you. When Carlisle called, when he told me about your father, about the arrangement the four of you made, I knew I needed to help you."

"Why?" Edward asked. "Why do you care?"

"I care because he told me he's in love with you, Edward, and he never, ever told me he was in love with me. Never. So, when he tells me that you need my help, that she needs my help because she's important to you, and you are important to him. Well, I'm going to help, so please sit down and let's make a plan."

Edward looked down at Bella, who simply nodded. "Fine."

The two squeezed in between Carlisle and Esme, both of whom wrapped their arms around them.

"The district attorney is expecting me tomorrow after school, to talk about the case against my father," Bella said. "Edward agreed to go with me."

Carlisle raised an eyebrow.

"I was going to tell you about missing practice," he muttered. "Sorry."

"We'll talk about it later," Carlisle quipped. "But I agree that you need to go with her."

"I will meet you both there," Peter said, drawing everyone's attention back to him. "As your attorney, I need to be there."

"Fine," Bella groused. "Be honest with me, Peter. What's going to happen to my dad?"

"It all depends on how his evaluation goes, honestly. I've asked the D.A. to request a full battery of tests, as well."

"What kind of tests?" Edward asked.

"MRI and CatScan. I did a little digging, and three months before your father was suspended from the force, he was in a car accident. Did you know that, Bella?"

"No. What happened?"

"It was a minor accident, from what the reports say. He was in one of the old patrol cars, taking it to Port Angeles to auction off, when a deer ran in front of him. He didn't have time to stop, hit the deer head on. It flipped upward and smashed into the windshield. Your father hit his head. He was taken to the clinic in Port Angeles and cleared to return to duty, but slowly over the next few months, his behavior changed, as I'm sure you know."

"That's around the time he started pressuring me to go out with a boy named Jacob Black. He lives in La Push, but he goes to school with me and Edward. Found out today that my father has become obsessed with Quileute Tribal history."

"Who told you that?"

"Sam Uley, one of my father's deputies. He said Charlie's been asking two of the other officers from the reservations questions."

"What are their named?" Peter asked. "I'd like to ask them some questions myself."

"Embry Call and Paul Lahote."

Peter made note of their names in his notebook before he looked back at Bella and then Edward. "Now, what are we going to do about your father?"

"My . . . my father?" Edward asked. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about how your father beats your mother, Edward."

"Yes, I know." Edward looked at Carlisle. "You told him about my parents?"

"I did. Someone has to help her."

"You think I don't know that," Edward snarled, scrambling to his feet and rushing out of the house. He slammed the door behind him, but when he reached his car, he heard the front door open and looked back to find Carlisle chasing him, but instead of stepping up and trying to understand why his lover had put his personal business out there like that, he climbed into his car and left.

Carlisle started blowing up his phone the second Edward was out of sight of the house, but he couldn't bring himself to answering any of his phone calls. Instead, he switched his phone to silence and dropped it into his backpack.

When he walked into the house, he found his mother standing in front of the kitchen sink. She turned and looked at him. Her left eye was swollen shut, her right cheek was bruised, her lip busted, and there were handprints around her neck.

"Dinner should be ready soon."

"I'm not hungry." Edward dropped his backpack onto the kitchen table. "Where is he?"

"He got called into a meeting at work. With human resources."

"Meaning he's getting fired again."

"You don't know that, Edward. He might can talk to them, make them understand what happened the other night."

"And the ten nights before that when he would show up drunk? Can he make excuses for those? Or, is he just going to blame you?"

Elizabeth sighed. "You're in a bad mood."

"Kind of had a shitty day," he admitted. "Tends to happen when everyone at school knows that your mother stays with the man who beats her."

Elizabeth looked away. "I'm sorry."

"Why do you stay, Mom? Why? You don't love him anymore."

"Of course I do," she lied. "He's my husband, he's your father."

"He's not my father. He's a bastard. A fucking bastard!"

"Edward, don't use that kind of language," she scolded, looking toward her bedroom.

"He's not here, Mom! He's not here, and you're still scared."

"Just stop, Edward. Just stop!" she wailed, wrapping her arms around herself. "Just stop."

"I'm sorry." Edward pulled her into his arms. "I just . . . I don't want to lose you, Mom. He's going to go too far one of these days. You know that, don't you?"

"He loves me. He does. He just gets frustrated with me. I just . . . I just have to do better. Be a better wife."

"You deserve better than him." Edward kissed the top of her head. "I'm leaving."

"Wait, what?" Elizabeth took a step backward. "What are you talking about?"

"I . . ." Edward shook his head. "I'm leaving. I can't . . . I can't stay in this house another night knowing that he puts his hands on you. I can't . . . it's tearing me up inside, Mom, because I love you," he cried. "I love you so much, but if you won't fight for yourself, then I can't stay here anymore."

"Where are you going to go?"

"Somewhere safe."

"With someone you love?"

Edward nodded.

"Does he love you back?"

"He does."

"Good. I . . . That's good, Edward."

Edward wanted to beg her to come with him, to go pack her own bag and leave town. They could go to Seattle, or Los Angeles, or fucking Texas. Anywhere else but that little, broken down house in Forks, but he knew she wouldn't leave. So, instead, he walked down the hallway into his bedroom and shoved as much as he could into two suitcases, stuffed what little cash he had into his pocket, grabbed his backpack on the way out, and found himself driving down the same road, back to the love of his life.

Carlisle was seated on the porch when Edward parked behind his truck. He stood as he climbed out of the car, his eyes widening when he pulled two suitcases from the backseat.

"I'm sorry," Edward said. "I can find somewhere else to stay, but I can't . . . I can't go back to that house and watch while he slowly kills her."

Carlisle smiled, placing his hands on his hips. "Of course you can stay here, Edward. I'm sorry if I crossed the line telling Peter about your dad. I just . . . I worry about you."

He nodded. "I know, and I love you for it, but for now on, don't talk about me to men you used to fuck."

"That's fair," he said, cringing.

"Are they still here?"

Carlisle shook his head. "They're staying in Port Angeles for the night."

"I don't like him."

"I don't much like him anymore, either."

"But I love you."

Carlisle grinned. "I love you, too."

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