11

"Why do you love me?"

Loud, boisterous laughter filled the room. "Because you let me see you naked, of course."

"I'm serious." Bella rolled her eyes before looking at Garrett. "Why do you love me?"

He smiled, shifting so he was leaning on his elbow, his fingers trailing along her stomach. "Oh, I'm serious, too, honey. I love seeing you naked."

Bella laughed. "You're such a pervert."

"And you love me for it."

"I do," she admitted, covering his hand with hers and lifting it to her lips. "But tell me why you love me?"

He grinned. "I love you, Bella Mitchell because you don't put up with my bullshit."

"Is that all you love about me?"

He shook his head. "I love that you're a genius."

"I am not a genius!"

"Hush, woman," he snickered before hovering over her. "You are a genius, and we all know it, honey. Now, where was I?"

"Telling me all the reasons you love me."

"Oh, yeah. I love that you laugh deeply. You don't giggle like other women. You laugh like you mean it. And sometimes you snort."

"No, I don't!"

"Oh, yes, you do," he said. "It's cute, though."

Bella shook her head.

"I love that you insist on watching Hallmark movies at Christmastime, even though the plot is basically the same in every single one. And I love the way you always cry a little when they finally kiss."

Bella scoffed. "Just because I think being wooed is important in a relationship."

He grinned, his eyes scanning down the length of her body. "Woo, huh? I could woo you right now if you're up for it."

"I think the question, babe, is,are you up for it?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Garrett laughed and leaned downward, pressing her lips against hers . . .

Bella awoke with a flinch when the alarm on the bedside table started blaring. She rolled onto her side and turned it off before flopping onto her back. It was just after seven in the morning. It had been a while since she'd had a good dream about Garrett. Most of her dreams were scary reminders of that night.

She slid to the side of the bed and stretched her arms above her head as she looked around the room. Standing, she walked to the dresser and picked up a picture of Edward, Esme, and someone she assumed was their mother. The first two were sitting on the front porch, and she was kneeling behind them, her arms wrapped around their shoulders. Like Edward and Esme, their mother had the same auburn hair; only hers was straight, unlike Esme's curly locks. All three had the same beautiful green eyes and curvy smiles.

A tentative knock drew her attention to the door, so she returned the picture to the dresser and hurried over. When she opened it, she found Edward leaning with one hand on each side of the frame. He'd removed his shirt, leaving him in only his black joggers, which hung dangerously low on his hips.

"Were you still asleep?" he asked.

She shook her head.

"I was going to take a quick shower and needed to get clothes," he added, gesturing inside the room.

"Oh, yeah, sorry," she mumbled before stepping out of the way.

"Don't be sorry. Just give me a few minutes, and then I can run you home so you can change."

"I don't want to go home."

"But there's a dress code."

"There are also rules about withholding evidence, yet he doesn't seem to give two shits about that, does he?"

Edward frowned.

"He's using you, Masen, to keep me here. You understand that, don't you? He knows I want to teach you — to train you, and that's why he sent you after me last night."

"I know."

"Why are you letting him use you like that? So I don't leave again? I'm not worth that it."

Edward nodded. "I think you are."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do you think I'm worth it?"

"Because you care about the victims. They tell me not to get too emotionally involved, that I need to look past the victims and only focus on the perps. But you, you make me see who they are — who they really are. Like with Heidi and Lauren, they aren't just . . . just statistics in a file. They have people who love them, need them, and we need to remember that."

"You just might make a pretty decent agent after all, Masen." Bella waved toward the inside of his bedroom. "You have coffee?"

He nodded. "Already made. Cup is on the counter. Also have muffins in the microwave. Chocolate chip and banana nut."

"Homemade?"

"Are there any other kind?"

Bella laughed. "Unfortunately."

While Edward entered his bedroom, Bella walked into the kitchen, poured herself a cup of coffee, and helped herself to a banana nut muffin. She'd just settled on the sofa when Esme hurried out of her bedroom wearing a red dress adorned with little white flowers. Her curly hair was pulled up into a ponytail, and she wore a pair of black flats. She paused momentarily before hurrying into the kitchen, returning a moment later with a large travel cup and a chocolate chip muffin.

"I guess I should thank you."

"For what?" Bella asked.

"Not letting my brother die in a blizzard in North Dakota."

She nodded. "Oh."

"I wanted to kick his ass when he told me what happened. Leaving town without letting me know, especially not knowing what the weather was going to be like there."

"Why didn't you?"

Esme grinned. "Because, while I would never admit this to him, he is stronger than me, Bee. He'd push me off, pin me to the floor, and tickle me until I pissed myself. I know this from experience."

Bella laughed. "Suppose that's fair."

"He told me about your husband."

She tensed.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. Not your fault."

Esme sat in the mustard-yellow armchair in the corner that looked like they'd found in an alley. "I worry about Edward all the time. He . . . He's a dreamer, Bee. You know, he thinks the best of everyone, and people take advantage of him because of it."

"They do," she agreed.

"Did he tell you about our father?"

Bella nodded.

"I didn't want him to become a cop. But when he sets his mind on something, there's no changing it no matter how dangerous it is."

"He is stubborn. I must have told him no at least a dozen times when he came to cart me back."

"So why'd you stay?" she asked. But before Bella could reply, they heard the door to Edward's bedroom open, and Esme stood, throwing a frantic look in his direction before turning back to Bella and saying, "I gotta go. My students won't teach themselves." She glanced back toward the hallway and yelled, "Later, Eddie!"

"Stop yelling, Essie. We do have neighbors," Edward muttered, hurrying into the living room while putting his black jacket on. "Dinner tonight, okay?"

Esme smiled. "Yeah, yeah, we'll see," she said before leaving the apartment and sliding the door closed with a thud.

Bella looked back at Edward, raising an eyebrow. "So, Eddie, huh?"

"She's the only one I allow to call me that."

"I see."

"Did you need more coffee?"

"I'm good, thanks," she said, standing and walking to the bar separating the two areas. "I like your sister, Masen. She's . . . sassy."

Edward laughed. "Sassy is fairly accurate when it comes to Esme. She's protective of me. That's why she left Texas. Well, that and our mother is a lot to handle one-on-one."

"I saw her picture in your room. She's beautiful."

"She is."

"What's her name?"

Edward filled two travel mugs before pouring the remainder into the sink and turning off the brewer. "Elizabeth. Dad called her Lizzie, though."

"Elizabeth," Belle whispered. "What's she like?"

"I've already told you about her."

"You told me what she was like as your mother. I want to know what she's like as a woman."

"I don't know that I've ever thought of her as just a woman."

"You know she is one, right? She's more than just your mother, just your father's wife."

"I know, but she's just always been my mom. She's . . ." Edward placed his hands on the counter. "She loves to tell dad jokes. Like really bad, corny dad jokes. Last year for Christmas, Esme and I brought her ten books filled with them. After we left Texas, she started texting them to us every Sunday morning."

"Tell me one."

He grimaced. "They're really bad, Swan."

"I don't care. Tell me one."

Edward groaned but took his phone out of his pocket and began scrolling through his messages. "Okay, here's the one she sent me last week. What do you call a factory that makes okay products?"

He shifted his eyes to her.

"I give up."

He grinned. "A satisfactory."

Though she tried to fight it, she felt her lips curve into a smile. "You're right; that was pretty bad."

"Right!" He laughed and put his phone back in his pocket. "She's incredibly strong. Raising my sister and me all alone, she gave up so much for us."

"What does she do for a living?"

"She's a nurse. Went back to school after Dad died, got her LVN, and then her RN. She's been working toward her nurse practitioner for the last year or so."

"Wow. She must be very smart."

Edward nodded. "Esme takes after her."

"You're smart, too, you know."

"I am? You've been calling me an idiot for four days."

"Well, they aren't always mutually exclusive. You just . . ." Bella walked around the island so she stood in front of him. "You knew they were withholding details about Lauren's case, yet you didn't call them out on it."

"I didn't think I could," he admitted. "I'm the noob, remember?"

"If you don't want to be called noob, then stop acting like one. Make them respect you. Lord knows you're persistent when it's important to you. Otherwise, I wouldn't be here, would I?"

He grinned. "Guess not."

"Don't let that go to your head, Masen. You're still a noob to me, though even I will admit that you're learning."

"I'm trying."

"I know."

He inhaled a deep breath before sliding a silver travel cup toward her. "I know you said you didn't want any more coffee, but today's going to be a long one, so . . ."

"Thanks." She picked it up and held it against her chest. "The muffins were good, too."

"Esme made them. I barely know how to boil water."

She laughed. "And you led me to believe you were a baker."

"Never said I made them. Just stated that they were, in fact, homemade." He opened the microwave and grabbed one for himself. "She bakes when she's scared, and I guess I was gone longer than I planned last night, hence the muffins."

"You didn't have to come after me. I am a big girl, Masen. I can take care of myself."

"But you shouldn't have to. And believe it or not, I care about you. After all, I'm the reason you came back."

"You're not the reason, just the catalyst." Bella paused. "I'm not leaving until Dwyer is no longer my problem, so you can stop worrying."

"You mean until we arrest him?"

"Like I said until he is no longer my problem. Let's just leave it at that."

Edward's eyes widened, but when he pulled his phone out of his pocket, he simply nodded and said, "Okay."

"We should go before my father texts you again."

"How'd you know he was sending me messages?"

"Because I know him better than you do, Masen."

—^—

When Bella and Edward stepped off the elevator and walked around the corner, they found everyone waiting, even though they were pretending to work. Jasper and Emmett were analyzing the dozens of pictures they had taken at Gianna Roman's dump site. Carlisle was standing in front of the large whiteboardwhile Rosalie was on her computer. But Bella knew them well enough to know they weren't really working. They were waiting, anxious for Bella to fill in the gaps.

She, on the other hand, didn't give a shit what they wanted. She gave Edward a look before she turned and walked over to Charlie's office, not bothering to knock before she threw his door open. He leaned back in his chair, his eyes filled with an apprehension she hadn't seen in a long time. Charlie simply tilted his head toward the black leather couch where a bag lay, knowing it had been packed with clothes for the day.

"Sit."

"Fuck you," she replied but stepped into the office and closed the door. "Were you really so desperate to get me back in the game that you put not just Lauren Mallory, but whoever his next target is, in even more danger?"

"I did no such thing."

"Bullshit." Bella took the bag off the sofa and tossed it onto the floor before sitting. "You knew she had a boyfriend. Yet, Tyler Crowley wasn't in the case notes. You knew about the graffiti left on the buildings where Chelsea Sanchez was dumped. Crazy how those pictures were not included in the case notes. You know, the ones that would have told us . . . told you that Lauren Mallory was his next target."

Charlie just stared at her.

"Why'd you send him after me last night?"

"Because you were stupid enough to go out in the middle of the damn night. Thought you might do something crazy like, I don't know, go back to where Garrett was killed."

This time, Bella just stared.

"That's what I thought." He leaned his head to the side. "I don't want to fight with you, Bee. Not anymore."

"You think this is what I want? I don't, Dad. I didn't want to be a part of this again, but you just . . ." She shook her head. "You couldn't let me have a normal life."

"A normal life isn't hiding in the middle Goddamn nowhere in North fucking Dakota!"

"Mom's going to put soap in your mouth if you keep talking like that," Bella quipped.

He laughed. "Don't you dare tell her." Bella didn't reply, though, and he sighed before saying, "I understood that you needed . . . let's call it a break, but you ran away, Bee. You ran away, and I couldn't find you for three months. For all I knew, Dwyer had gotten his hands on you."

"Bullshit."

"Fine, you're right. I knew you weren't with him, but that doesn't mean I haven't spent the last year worrying about you. Mom —"

"Don't bring Mom into this, Dad. She supported my decision to leave."

"She supported you leaving the job, not moving across the country, and hiding from the world."

"I did what I needed in order to get through one day to the next. You have no idea how hard it's been, Dad. No idea."

"No, I don't," he confessed. "But we could have helped you."

She shook her head, biting the inside of her lip to keep from weeping like a little girl. Her eyes burned with traitorous tears — tears she knew she couldn't let fall. Weakness wasn't an option; never had been with him. "Emotions don't solve the case, Bee. Emotions make you pathetic."

Charlie pushed his chair away from the desk and stood. He walked to her, sat down, and reached for her hand. But she pulled away. "I just wanted my daughter to be okay."

"And you think lying to me is going to make me okay?"

"You're not exactly the easiest person to be open with, Bee. You're kind of a bitch."

Bella's mouth opened. "If I'm a bitch, it's because you turned me into one."

"I made you tough, not a bitch."

"You turned me into you. You never cared what I wanted."

"You wanted this, too, Bee!" he exclaimed. "From the time you could talk, you were asking questions about the job. Don't sit there and act like I forced you into this."

"No, you didn't," she admitted. "But I don't want it anymore. I haven't wanted it in a year."

"Then why'd you come back? And don't use Masen as your excuse, Bee. You could have dropped him at the airport and gone back to your hole in the ground."

"I . . ." She shook her head, and before she could come up with an excuse, his phone rang.

Charlie gave her a look before he stood and walked around his desk, picking up the handset and bringing it to his ear before saying, "This is Swan."

His eyes widened. "Where?" There was a pause before he said, "We'll be there in ten. Nobody touches her until we get there, understand?"

Charlie dropped the handset back onto the base before gripping the back of his neck. "Lauren Mallory's been found."

Her eyes closed. "Where?"

"Outside Howard University Hospital."

She stood. "A hospital?"

"She's alive, Bee. Lauren Mallory is alive."

Thank you for all the AMAZING reviews! Big shout out to Sunflower Fran for being an amazing Beta and Friend! See you next Monday!