10

Bella slipped out of the yellow house on Mulberry Lane a little after one o'clock in the morning, being careful as she shut the door behind her. The last person she wanted to deal with right then was her father. He'd tried all evening to talk to her, to explain why he had withheld vital information from Edward, from her.

She hadn't wanted his excuses.

So, instead of dealing with him and his bullshit, she'd locked herself inside her bedroom and tried not to fall apart. However, whenever she closed her eyes, she could hear the gunshot, hear Garrett's wavering voice say, "I love you, Bella. I'll always love you," and she just couldn't handle being there anymore, so she did what she always did.

She left.

But because she had insisted Edward take her truck back to his place to keep her from doing the very thing she was doing, she wasforced to call an Uber. So, with her gun tucked into the pocket of her hoodie, she walked to the end of the block, climbed into the back of the silver Prius, and rattled off her destination before shifting her attention out the window.

Half an hour later, her driver pulled up in front of a rundown house in Vienna, Virginia. It definitely was rundown now, but a year ago, it was one of the nicest houses in the area. The large, five-bedroom, three-bath brick structure had been on the market for the better part of the last two years due to the hefty price tag of two and a quarter million dollars. Then, Phillip Dwyer set his eyes on it, and now the owner had dropped the price in half but still couldn't sell it.

Nobody wanted the house of death.

Bella tightened her grip on her weapon as she walked up to the front door. Glancing around, she used her shoulder to nudge the door open that was barely hanging on by its hinges. She grimaced as she stepped inside; the overwhelming smell of rot and death assaulted her senses. She slowly crept over to the stairs, taking each step with ease. That night, she'd rushed in, desperate to find him. And she had. It was the only good thing Phillip Dwyer had done for her, she thought.

"You'll find him at 253 Avondale Rd, in Vienna. Hurry, my love. Hurry."

The phone dropped from her hand as her eyes shifted to her father. He reached for her, but instead of letting him comfort her, she shook her head and took several steps away from him, Carlisle, Emmett, Jasper, and Rose, who was cradling Heidi against her.

"I . . ."

But instead of trying to verbalize what she was thinking, she simply turned and ran up the basement stairs, through the house, and to the standard, black Government issued SUV. Bella had just reached for the driver's side door, when she felt a hand come down on her shoulder. And when she looked back, she saw Carlisle standing behind her.

"I'll drive."

"You better fucking hurry."

"I'll get you there, Bee. I'll get you to Garrett. I promise."

Her legs felt like lead weights were tied around her ankles as she hurried around and climbed into the passenger seat, putting her seatbelt on. Carlisle started the vehicle and pulled away from the curb, reaching over again and placing his hand on her shoulder. Bella shrugged his touch off, her eyes closing as she struggled to keep from falling apart.

"Choose me, Bella. Pick me over the job. Just pick me!"

How many times had he begged her to put him first, yet it was always about the job. And now, he'd . . . She closed her eyes, her hands curling into a tight fist. She had to be strong for him. He needed her to keep it together. Twenty-five minutes later, and Carlisle parked in front. Bella leapt from the car before he had even shifted into park, hurrying up the front porch, kicking the door open, and rushing inside.

There was a feeling of death the moment she stepped inside, a stench that crept into her soul. She glanced around the front room until her eyes landed on the stairs. Where the rest of the house was eerily dark, there was a soft glow coming from upstairs. Each step seemed steeper than the one before, and her eyes burned with tears, and her throat ached from trying to keep from screaming. Reaching the landing, she immediately knew in which room she would find him. On the far side of the hallway, the door to the master bedroom was cracked open, and a light flickered from inside.

Walking closer, her hand trembling, she pushed the door all the way open. And there on the floor was the body of her husband.

"Thought I might find you here."

Startled, Bella turned and found Edward standing at the top of the stairs. Unlike before, instead of wearing a dark suit, he wore black joggers, a gray hoodie with New York across the chest, and a pair of white Nikes.

"How'd you know I was here?"

"It's where I would go."

She tilted her head to the side. "He told you I left."

Edward nodded. "Saw you leave. Said he would have followed, but you had been giving him the silent treatment."

"So he called you, and you came running to do what? Save me from my wallowing?"

"Just making sure you don't bail again."

Bella turned and looked back at the door to the master bedroom. "He was still alive when I got to him. Did you know that?"

"No."

"Cullen's the only one who knew. I figured he would have told everyone."

"They wouldn't tell me much about you."

"Oh?" She asked, looking back at him. "Why were you asking about me?"

"Because I was impressed with your work. I studied all of your cases."

"You studied my cases?"

He nodded.

"Wow, okay. You're a stalker."

"No, no, I'm not," he stammered, but when she laughed, he said, "I didn't mean it like that. I just . . . you're a legend, and I thought studying your cases would, I don't know, teach me to be a better agent."

Bella sighed, turned, and leaned against the wall. "You are a good agent, Masen. You just have to stop letting everyone, me included, push you around."

"I don't let them push me around."

"It's two o'clock in the morning, Masen, and you came running after me because my father called you. I am not your responsibility."

"I know."

"Do you?"

He nodded. "Why'd you come here?"

"You tell me."

His lips twitched into a small smile. "This was the last memory you have of your husband."

"Yes, but why would I want to come here? It's not a good memory."

"Because you're starting to doubt whether you should stay or not, and coming here, reliving that moment, is fueling your anger."

"Wow, look who picked up a skill or two when it comes to profiling." Bella shifted and looked back inside the bedroom. "He was lying in the middle of the floor, surrounded by candles. I rushed to his side, begging him to stay with me, and he looked at me. He couldn't speak, and Dwyer . . . Well, he hadn't taken it easy on Garrett. He was strong; he fought back. I could see the defensive wounds on his knuckles. But in the end, he . . ." She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

"He was going to leave me."

"Who?"

She scoffed and opened her eyes. "My husband, Masen. He was . . . He wanted me to quit, to walk away. We'd been talking about starting a family for months, but every time I was ready to quit, another case would fall in my lap. He thought I was using the job as an excuse. Maybe I was, maybe . . . maybe I was terrified of leaving the FBI because it's been my life since I was born. I didn't get to take piano lessons or ballet. I was studying crime scenes with my father, learning profiling. Shit, by the time I was ten, I could shoot better than most agents."

"Sounds like a horrible childhood."

She shook her head. "It wasn't. I mean, I loved it. I was good at it, but I loved him more. I had decided to turn in my papers when we cracked the case. Just one more case. But, one more was too many."

"Tell me about him."

"Who?"

"Your husband. Tell me about Garrett."

She inhaled through her nose and exhaled slowly from her mouth. "He . . . He was smart. So fucking smart. Graduated high school at sixteen, college by nineteen, and medical school when he was twenty-three. He was in the middle of a surgical residency, still trying on a specialty, but he loved the blood and guts, the rush that came with trauma. Kind of ironic, considering his traumatic murder, isn't it?"

"Tell me more. Tell me why you loved him."

"Kind of personal, don't you think?"

"You asked me about my mom, dad, and little sister."

"Fair enough." Bella sat on the floor, bending her legs in front of her. "He was beautiful and kind and such a smart-ass," she laughed through her tears. "When I struggled with a case and found myself lost in the details, he would make me dance."

"Dance?" Edward asked, sitting on the top of the steps.

She nodded. "Naked, usually."

His eyes widened.

Bella laughed. "You've never danced naked?"

"No!"

"Oh, my God, you need to live more."

"Just because I don't dance naked in my living room doesn't mean I don't live, Swan. I just choose to live in other ways."

"Like?"

"Like . . . I don't know, okay? I just do."

Bella tilted her head to the side. "Are you a virgin, Masen?"

"No!" he exclaimed.

"No?"

"No," he repeated. "Why would you think that?"

"You just seem . . . innocent, I guess. Haven't you ever just let loose and fucked against a window?"

"No," he said again. "I prefer to have sex in a bed."

"Lights on at least?"

Edward didn't reply, though he did roll his eyes.

"Oh, wow, you're a lights-off kind guy, huh? Probably leave your socks on, too."

"I do not," he scoffed.

"How many women have you had sex with?"

"Why does that matter?"

"It doesn't, but I still want to know."

"Three."

"So one."

"That's not what I said."

"I know what you said, but that was a lie. It's the rule of three."

"The rule of three? What the heck is the rule of three?"

"When asking a guy about the number of sexual partners they've had, you divide the number by three because they want to come off as a player since admitting they've only had one sexual partner makes them feel lame."

"And what's the rule of three when it comes to women?"

Bella grinned. "Multiply it by three."

"And what would your number be?"

"One."

"So three."

"Yes, Masen, I have had sex with three men in my life. Unlike you, I am not ashamed of my sexuality."

"I'm not ashamed. I was just raised that a person's sex life is private."

"Not like I take out an ad in the paper every time I get laid, for fuck sake."

Edward laughed. "Okay, that's fair."

"Why'd you come here tonight?"

"I told you —"

"He called you, I know, but why are you so invested in keeping me here?"

"Because I've learned more in one day working with you than in six months with everyone else." Edward stood and walked over to her, stretching his hand out. "Let me take you home."

"My home is in North Dakota."

"Touché, Swan. Let me get you out of here. We can go anywhere you want; just let's get out of here."

Biting the inside of her lip, she slid her hand across his and let him help her to her feet. "Take me anywhere except back to him."

"He's worried about you."

"I know."

"Okay."

—^—

Edward, true to his word, didn't drive her back to the little yellow house on Mulberry Lane. Instead, he parked in front of a two-story brick building in the heart of the warehouse district. He led her up a flight of stairs and stopped in front of a large, metal sliding door. He dug his keys out of his pocket, but before he could unlock the door, it slid open, and they found themselves face to face with a young woman with long, curly auburn hair and soft hazel eyes. She smiled as she looked from Edward to Bella.

"You said it would only be an hour!" she exclaimed.

"Shh," Edward hissed, looking around at the other doors on the second floor. "You're going to wake up the old man, Essie."

"Sorry," Essie snickered, her eyes flickering to Bella. "You must be Bee? Is that really your name?"

"Yes."

"Okay, well, Bee," Essie said, waving her hand toward the inside of the apartment. "Our casa is your casa."

"I'm sorry about her, but after I almost died in a blizzard, she's a little . . . antsy when I leave in the middle of the night."

"Gee, Eddie, I'm sorry I worry too much about you. I can call Ma."

"Don't you dare!" Edward snarled.

Essie laughed. "Fine, fine, I won't. Yet."

Edward rolled his eyes and placed his hand behind Bella, but not actually touching her, which she both appreciated yet hated. He was different than most men. Naïve, yes, but there was a fierceness in his eyes that intrigued her.

"Swan, this is my sister, Esme, or Essie as I call her. Sis, this is Bee. She's my partner."

"No, I'm not," Bella said quickly. "I'm not staying long enough to be his partner. Just trying to solve this case so I can leave again."

"Well, it's nice to meet you anyway, Bee. You can call me Esme. He and our mother are the only ones who call me Essie." Esme closed the door behind them. "I am going to bed, seeing as I have to be up in two hours for school."

"You could have stayed in bed," Edward quipped.

"Yeah, right." Esme laughed before disappearing into a bedroom on the right-hand side of the apartment.

"Sorry about her," Edward muttered, gripping the back of his neck before he looked at her. "You can take my bed. I'll sleep on the couch."

"I'm not taking your bed, Masen. I'll take the couch."

He snorted. "My momma and Essie would whoop my ass if I let you sleep on the couch."

"Did you just cuss?"

He grinned. "I do curse from time to time, Swan. Just not when I am working. Please, take my bed. The sheets are clean. I promise."

"Fine, I can see I'm not going to win this particular battle, so . . ." She walked to him, placing her hand in the middle of his chest. "Thank you, Masen."

"Why are you thanking me?"

She frowned. "Because you asked what he was like. You're starting to see he wasn't another victim; he was a person, my person. So, thank you."

Edward covered her hand with his own. "You're welcome."

Pulling away, she walked across the apartment and into his bedroom. Closing the door, she sat on the bed, her hands coming to rest on her knees as she looked around the room.

Perfect and orderly, just like Edward.

Just as she was about to bolt from the room, she heard him on the phone. "She's safe, sir. For now, she's safe. No disrespect, but you need to get your crap together, sir."

Bella smiled. Edward Masen was defending her.

Thank you for all the AMAZING reviews! And a huge thank you to Sunflower Fran for being an amazing beta and friend. See you next Monday!