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Scheduled for Friday
by Anton M.

46: Danger Is My Middle Name

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Sunday, February 12 (cont.)

"You didn't come home last night," Edward's dad accused, his gaze jumping around in jerky movements. His dilated pupils made my blood run cold, more so because his words made no sense.

Beads of sweat glistened on Carl's forehead, and his teeth were… ghastly.

"I'm sorry," Edward said, gently, making even less sense.

Carl, unable to stop scratching at his skin, rotated to face the wall, narrowing his eyes at the bare beige surface. He lifted his finger and hissed, "You shut your mouth, you lying piece of shit!"

"Feather-heart," Edward whispered, voice deadly calm. "Can you do me a favor and go to my room with Riley?"

Heart in my throat, I squeezed his forearm. "Should I call—"

"No. It's okay. Don't get the cops involved," he replied, turning his head to press a kiss against my lips. His eyes—careful, alert, pleading—lingered on mine. "Lock the door, though, okay, sweets? I'll be there in a moment."

"I can't leave you—"

His dad sprung up as if stung when his gaze focused on my legs. "You fucker," he growled, flinging his entire body at me before Edward half-gripped, half-hugged his dad to keep him in place. Carl grunted.

Eyes wide, I scooted backwards off the couch and discovered Riley standing behind it. Unable to carry him, I squeezed his shoulder, but my desperate need to help Edward kept me frozen in place.

"Dad," Edward warned.

Carl's eyes narrowed in hatred as he struggled against his son, but Edward had muscle and height his father lacked.

"You stole Lizzy's clothes," he spat at me, straining against Edward's arms. "You had no right!"

An unsettling, ammonia-like smell wafted in our direction.

"They're gran-gran's pajamas," Edward explained, as if this was a normal conversation. "Nobody touched mom's clothes, okay? Nobody has touched them."

Seething, Carl's chest rose and fell with his breaths. He blinked and twitched before his eyes focused higher, on his son, and he sat back down, mood changed as if nothing had happened. "Did you get me the money you owe me?"

"Of course," Edward agreed, making my gut churn, but when I locked eyes with him, I knew he was bluffing. Maybe he was relying on his dad to forget about his question before asking for proof. I found it hard to believe that Edward owed him anything at all.

"Bella, baby," Edward reminded softly. "My room."

It nearly killed me to oblige his request but Riley had seen enough. Having kept a keen eye on my phone, I took it from under my pillow, and Carl was already accusing Edward of stealing his car when the door clicked shut behind us. Heart bleeding, I locked it for Riley's sake. Edward's unhinged father scared me but Edward's eerily calm and compliant replies to… total nonsense, those almost scared me more.

You didn't come home last night? Like what the actual fuck, we were right here.

But that was nothing next to him seething, spitting and shouting at a blank wall.

Riley, clearly in a different state of mind, was already scooting a stool near a shelf to pull out two books. Unwilling to think about the reason Edward kept some of Riley's books in his room, I took them from Riley and helped him down.

I gripped the books tighter to hide my shaking hands.

"Does Edward get you books from the library often?" I asked, keeping my voice unnaturally natural as I worried over abandoning Edward to handle his father, all alone. I didn't want to have to do it, but I also couldn't have left Riley by himself. What could I do, though? How could I help Edward?

"Every week if he has time," Riley answered, proudly, jumping on the bed. "He gets me anything I want! Will you read Dragons Love Tacos to me in that awesome voice?"

Gut churning at the raised voices behind the door, I hesitated. "Is it okay if I—"

"Edward is big and strong," Riley interrupted, shrugging. "He always gets uncle Carl to calm down when he's big sick. Come. Come read."

Big sick, indeed.

Fucking hell, what was this kid's life like that he wasn't the least bit fazed by the situation?

Watching Riley jumping up and down on the bed from getting to read Dragons Love Tacos and agonizing over leaving Edward alone with his father, I gave Riley my most convincing smile and made him choose a page to read as I dialed dad's number.

"What's wrong?" dad answered, well-aware that I'd never have called unless I absolutely had to.

"Daddy," I replied, feeling an unexpected lump in my throat. "Edward's dad is—" I glanced at Riley flipping pages and chose my words carefully. "—a tweaker, and I'm scared for Edward. Can you come get us?"

Dishes clanked as dad almost certainly motioned for mom to move. "Are you safe? Did you call the police? Is he violent?"

"Kind of, but—also not? He's… unpredictable. Edward didn't want me to call the police, though. He's alone with him, and… he's so, he's so good with his dad but I don't like it. I want to help him but I don't know how."

"You're at his place?"

"Yes."

Dad cursed. "You have to call Emmett, sweetie. He's closer."

"What do you mean? Our place is ten minutes—"

"We're in Covington, hon. An hour away."

"Why are you—" I paused, amused and horrified by how right I'd been about my parents needing alone time. "Never mind."

"We'll be on our way in five, but you have to call Emmett. Or do you want me to call him?"

I wasn't eager to get my bodyguard involved on yet another one of his days off but my gut-wrenching worry over Edward took care of my reluctance.

Waiting for him, I read Riley's book to him in multiple strange voices until he needed to pee. I listened carefully at the door before I unlocked it, glanced at the empty hallway and waited behind the bathroom. Edward's dad's door was open. The old mirror on the wall provided me with a limited view into the dirty, cluttered room and Edward's dad sitting on a single bed with his head in his hands. He was swaying back and forth, growling more than muttering to himself. Vulnerable and agitated, he tore at his hair, and I was struck by how gaunt he was.

Edward appeared from the kitchen with a bottle of water, and our eyes locked when Riley emerged from the bathroom.

A knock startled us all.

"I called Emmett," I whispered, feeling apologetic. "I didn't know what else to do."

Edward looked like he'd been put through the wringer. He gave me a sharp nod and unlocked the front doors just as his father reappeared from his room.

Emmett stood in the rain. We'd interrupted his Sunday, which meant that he looked like a jacked-up alien in blue sweatpants, a T-shirt and a rain jacket. His eyes were alert, assessing the situation, and it didn't take me long to notice how Edward strategically positioned himself between his dad and us, never quite turning his back on his father.

"Good morning," Edward said, barely smiling. "Thanks for coming, although—"

"You motherfucker!" Carl shouted, only failing to launch himself at Emmett because Edward reacted first. "It's you, from Owen's. Motherfucker stealing our ice in broad daylight. I'll kill you. I swear I will kill you!" He reached for something on the inside of his jacket but Emmett didn't even blink when he held out his own gun.

The world stopped moving.

Edward, pale as a ghost, held his father against him. "He doesn't have a gun," Edward whispered, an edge of panic creeping into his voice. "He doesn't have a gun, Emmett. I promise, I promise. I took it, I took it last year. Please—"

Letting out a breath, Emmett had barely returned the gun to its holster when Riley, finally snapping out of his danger-is-my-middle-name attitude, began to wail on top of his lungs.

Edward exhaled. "Jesus fuck."

I wanted to wrap him into one of his death-grip hugs and never let go. Instead, I lowered myself to Riley's level and wrapped him tight into my arms. "S'okay, Riley." I shushed him, barely covering the terror in my throat. "Just a misunderstanding. Everyone's okay. You're okay. You're okay. I got you."

When Carl couldn't stop spewing nonsense in Emmett's direction, Edward wrenched his father's hands behind him and spoke in a voice so soft I could scarcely believe it. "I'm going to put you against the floor now, okay, dad? I won't hurt you, but I can't have you hurting anyone else. It's only for a moment."

Carl grunted and fought against Edward's arms but ultimately lost as Edward gently lowered his father against the hallway floor. Our eyes met. The entire morning felt like an out-of-body experience, and Edward looked like a hurricane of the world's worries had blown through him.

"How'd you learn to do that?" Emmett asked over Riley's crying.

"Life."

Unsure of how Edward felt about me having involved Emmett in the whole thing, I hesitated. "Edward, is it okay if Riley, you and I go to our place for a little while? My parents will be there, too."

"You go," Edward replied, pulling his bottom lip in his mouth as he observed me. The alert, unguarded energy in his eyes squeezed my heart. "Take Riley's backpack and both of your helmets from Billy's. I'll follow you on my bike so you don't have to drop us off, later. Will you take them, sir?"

Emmett squeezed Edward's shoulder and muttered an apology before he tilted his head at the door, motioning for us to go.

Having gathered our things, we stepped into the wet, cold Sunday morning, and I finally felt like my heart began to regain its rhythm even if I left a strung out, frightened piece of it with Edward.

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A/N: You guys are the best. Thank you. How are you all?