AN: I am so sorry for the delay in posting, but good news, the story is written almost completely. So, I will update more consistently, just need to edit as I go along. Thanks, everyone!

Way Down We Go: KALEO

The next morning, Bella was jolted awake by a loud crash downstairs, followed immediately by an explosion of laughter so deep and unhinged it rattled the walls.

Jake launched off the bed, barking furiously as he scrambled toward the door. Bella sat up, heart hammering, sleep clinging stubbornly to her as another violent crash echoed through the house.

"Emmett, for the love of—" Alice's voice rang out, already dripping with frustration.

"Relax, Ali!" a new voice boomed—loud, cocky, and way too amused. "I'm just making myself at home!"

Bella swung her legs over the side of the bed, yanking on a sweatshirt as she stumbled toward the door.

By the time she reached the bottom of the stairs, chaos had fully taken over.

A massive man stood in the middle of the living room, grinning like he'd just committed arson and would happily do it again. He was built like a linebacker, all broad shoulders and raw muscle, with an energy so reckless it was a wonder the room was still intact. In one giant hand, he held a duffel bag—ripped wide open, its contents dumped haphazardly across the floor—a combat knife, a pair of boots, a handful of ammo clips, and a steel dumbbell.

Emmett.

"Oh, shit. My bad," he said, utterly unapologetic, his grin widening.

Next to him stood a woman so striking that Bella had to take a second to process it. She had sharp features, long blonde hair that somehow looked effortless, and an expression that screamed she had better things to do than deal with whatever nonsense was happening in front of her.

This must've been Rosalie.

Rosalie pinched the bridge of her nose, exhaling sharply. "Emmett, you brain-damaged gorilla, could you try—just try—not to destroy something within five minutes of walking in?"

Emmett scoffed. "I tripped."

Rosalie arched a perfect brow. "On what, exactly? Your own ego?"

Bella, still groggy, just stared at them.

Rosalie turned, her sharp gaze landing on Bella. "You must be Bella." She looked her over once, assessing. "Thought you'd be taller."

Bella blinked, suddenly self-conscious of the fact that she was standing there barefoot, drowning in an oversized sweatshirt, and very much not prepared for this level of scrutiny. "Uh… nice to meet you too."

"Oh, shit, wait—" Emmett suddenly lunged, moving so fast Bella instinctively stepped back.

"So you're the famous Dr. Swan," he said, practically vibrating with excitement. "Damn, I was expecting some frazzled, lab-coat-wearing nerd, but you actually look like you've seen some shit. That's hot."

Bella's brain short-circuited. "Uh—"

Rosalie immediately punched him in the shoulder, hard enough that the sound of impact made Bella flinch.

"Ow!" Emmett yelped, rubbing the spot. "Jesus, domestic abuse!"

Rosalie didn't even look at him. "If I wanted to hurt you, you'd be on the floor."

Alice stormed in from the kitchen, looking one second away from strangling him. "Emmett, I swear to God, if you break one more thing—"

"Ali, sweetheart, angel, center of my goddamn universe," Emmett interrupted, throwing an exaggerated air kiss in her direction. "You wound me. I just got here."

Jasper strolled in behind her, barely glancing at Emmett. "Took you long enough."

Emmett smirked. "What, miss me, Jazz?"

"Like a fucking bullet wound, Em. In my ass."

Rosalie, already bored, turned toward the kitchen. "Before you two start taking out your dicks, can we focus? We've got work to do."

Bella almost choked on a laugh.

Emmett, completely unfazed, turned back to her. "So, doc—you ready to go raise some hell?"

Bella exhaled slowly, still a little overwhelmed, but for some reason, Emmett's absolute refusal to take anything seriously made her feel… lighter.

"Not really," she admitted. "But I guess that's never stopped me before."

Emmett's grin turned wicked. "That's the spirit." He clapped his giant hands together, the sound echoing through the room. "Let's go fuck some shit up.

Edward, who had been leaning against the wall, arms crossed, finally pushed off and stepped forward. "Right. Hope you brought more than just your sparkling personality, Em."

Emmett let out a loud bark of laughter and grabbed Edward in a brief but crushing bear hug that lifted him an inch off the ground. "Aww, Eddie, now I know you definitely missed me."

Edward shoved at his shoulder as soon as his feet touched the ground again, scowling. "Pick me up again, and I'll shoot you."

"Big words from a guy who weighs, what—a buck eighty soaking wet?" Emmett grinned, unbothered. "Don't worry, I'll protect you, little guy."

Edward glared. "Christ, Em."

Rosalie snorted, crossing her arms. "If we'd known you were just sitting around playing house, we would've stopped for coffee first."

Jasper smirked from where he was leaning against the couch. "Please, let's not pretend you wouldn't have stopped anyway."

"Obviously," Rosalie deadpanned.

Alice, now perched on the kitchen counter, rolled her eyes. "Okay, before we get lost in another pissing contest, Rose is right—we do have a mission to plan. Maybe try to act like professionals for five minutes?"

"Ali, sweetheart," Emmett said, flashing a wicked grin. "You knew what you were getting when you called me. No takesies-backsies."

Alice flicked a spoon at him, which he dodged easily, laughing. "Asshole," she muttered, but her lips twitched upward.

Edward shook his head, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I actually missed this shit."

"Yeah, yeah," Emmett grinned. "You're emotionally constipated, we get it. Now, where the hell is the food? You dragged me out here, and I know damn well Alice has the good coffee. I can't kill people on an empty stomach—it goes against my morals."

Alice gestured vaguely toward the kitchen. "You know where it is. Make yourself useful and don't break anything."

"One time, was one time."

Jasper scoffed. "You set a microwave on fire. That's not normal, Em."

"Okay, in my defense, I didn't think that much metal was in the burrito."

Bella shook her head, biting back a smile. It was impossible not to be drawn in by them, their ridiculous energy. They weren't just here to help—they were comfortable with each other, an unorthodox, slightly unhinged family. She actually felt like maybe—maybe—they actually had a shot at making it through this.

But even as she soaked in the easy banter, an itch started creeping up her spine, a restless feeling she couldn't shake. The walls of Alice's place felt too close, too stagnant. She needed air, movement—something to quiet her mind.

The conversation was still in full swing when she slipped away, unnoticed. She climbed the stairs with Jake padding beside her.

Inside the spare room, Bella grabbed the clothes Alice had lent her—sleek black leggings, a fitted long-sleeve, and lightweight running shoes. She pulled her hair into a ponytail, catching her reflection in the mirror.

Pale. A little hollow around the eyes. But determined.

Good enough.

She exhaled, rolling her shoulders before slipping out of the room. The voices downstairs were still going, Emmett and Jasper now locked in some ridiculous debate about the best way to break someone's nose. Alice interjected occasionally, probably just to stir the pot.

Bella moved quietly through the hallway, Jake padding close behind her, his nails clicking softly against the hardwood. She didn't want to explain where she was going—she just needed a moment, some air, some control.

At the side door, she hesitated just long enough to listen for any signs of someone noticing. Nothing.

She pushed it open carefully, stepping onto the cool stone path outside. Jake slipped through after her, his tail wagging slightly, sensing an adventure.

"Just a quick run," she murmured, scratching his head.

And then, without looking back, Bella ran.

The morning air wrapped around Bella like a shock of cold water, waking her up completely. She pulled in a deep breath—pine, damp earth, the faintest trace of rain still clinging to the air.

It smelled like home, or at least like something familiar.

Without hesitation, she set off down the narrow trail, her feet finding their rhythm against the dirt. Jake trotted beside her, his ears perked, tail swinging in an easy rhythm.

This was what she did every morning, back when life was predictable. Back when she woke up to alarm clocks instead of gunfire, when the biggest stress in her day was whether an experiment failed—not whether she'd live to see the next.

Her muscles burned as she picked up speed, but she welcomed it, needed it. The weight pressing on her chest—the uncertainty, the loss, the fear—it dulled with every stride. The trees blurred around her, their towering silhouettes filtering the pale morning light, the world narrowing to nothing but the steady pounding of her feet and the sharp intake of her breath.

She wasn't running away. She was running toward something.

Control. Routine. Herself.

She pushed harder, the ache in her legs a welcome familiarity. The wind tugged at her hair, cool against her skin, the ground firm beneath her feet. She focused on that—the raw, physical sensation of moving forward, of her body doing something she knew, something she understood.

She had no say in how her life had unraveled. But this? This was something she could own.

After about two miles, Bella gradually slowed, her breath steady but labored. She wiped the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand, rolling her shoulders as she took in her surroundings. The forest was still, the early morning light breaking through the canopy in streaks of gold. She felt a welcoming sliver of peace.

Jake trotted ahead, his tail swinging lazily, but then—suddenly—he stopped. His ears pricked forward, his body going rigid. A low, uneasy whine rumbled from his throat.

Bella frowned, jogging over. "What is it, boy?" she murmured, crouching beside him. She ran a soothing hand down his back, feeling the tension coiled beneath his fur. Her eyes scanned the trees, searching for the source of his unease.

Everything looked the same—the same dense pines, the same shifting leaves in the breeze. But the air had changed, the quiet no longer peaceful but wrong.

Jake whined again, his body tensed like a drawn bowstring. His gaze locked onto something deep within the trees. Bella followed his line of sight, squinting into the dappled shadows. Nothing. Just endless green and brown, shifting slightly in the wind.

She exhaled, forcing a small chuckle. "Come on, buddy. Probably just a deer." She ruffled his fur and straightened, brushing her hands against her leggings. "Let's—"

She never finished the sentence.

The moment she turned, a cold weight settled in her stomach. Someone was there.

A man stood about twenty feet away, half-hidden by the trees. Tactical gear, dark clothing, mask obscuring his face. But his eyes—sharp, focused—were locked onto hers.

Bella's blood turned to ice.

Jake let out a deep, warning growl, stepping protectively in front of her. The man didn't move. Didn't speak. Just stood there, watching.

Waiting.

Her breath came in shallow pulls, the adrenaline she'd worked off during her run now flooding back tenfold. She could try to bolt, but two miles from Alice's house was too far to outrun him if he was trained.

Options.

If he wanted to kill her, he would've already. Which meant he wanted something else. Which meant—

Bella shifted her stance subtly, preparing. Whatever this was, it wasn't ending in a conversation.

Then, the man moved.

A step forward. Just one. Deliberate. Measured.

Jake lunged.

The snarl that tore from his throat was guttural, raw, the sound of a dog who knew exactly what this man was. Bella barely had time to react before the man pivoted, dodging Jake's teeth by inches.

That was all she needed.

Bella turned and ran.

Not blindly—tactically. She didn't go straight. She zigzagged, her feet pounding the dirt, her breath coming in sharp gasps as she pushed herself to full speed.

Jake's growls echoed behind her, followed by a grunt of impact—he'd made contact. Good. But it wouldn't last long.

She veered toward the thicker part of the woods, forcing herself into the terrain where a bigger body like his would struggle. Low-hanging branches whipped at her arms and legs, the forest floor uneven beneath her steps, but shedid not stop.

A shot rang out.

Bella ducked, throwing herself hard behind a fallen tree just as a bullet splintered bark inches from where she had been standing.

Shit.

She gasped for breath, pressing herself against the rough wood, mind racing. He was armed. Of course he was armed.

Jake barked wildly, somewhere just beyond her line of sight, and then—another sound.

Footsteps. Fast. Closer.

Bella clenched her teeth. No. Not like this.

She forced herself up and kept running.

Her legs burned as she pushed herself harder, her breath coming in short, sharp bursts. The sound of footsteps behind her was relentless, growing louder with every stride. She didn't dare look back—she couldn't afford to—but she could feel the presence bearing down on her, closing the distance too quickly.

"Go, Jake!" she gasped, urging him forward.

The dog barked sharply, staying close to her side, his body tense and ready. His low, constant growl was a warning—one Bella wasn't sure would be enough.

Almost there.

She focused on the path ahead, on the break in the trees where the trail curved. If she could just make it back to the house, to the others—

A shadow moved.

Bella barely had time to register the figure stepping into her path before the sharp crack of gunfire split the air.

The bullets sliced past her head so close she felt the rush of air against her skin. She screamed, instincts taking over as she dropped, covering her head with her arms. Jake snarled, his barks turning frantic.

Then, silence.

Only the pounding of her heart, the ringing in her ears.

Bella's breath shuddered as she forced herself to lift her head. Edward stood just a few feet away, gun still raised, his expression carved from stone. His green eyes, dark and unreadable, locked onto her like a physical weight.

Her gaze flickered behind her to the man sprawled on the ground. Unmoving. The sight made her stomach lurch, and she quickly looked back at Edward.

His jaw was clenched so tightly she thought it might shatter. He took a slow, deliberate step toward her, his voice low, quiet, and seething.

"Get up."

Bella scrambled to her feet, brushing dirt from her clothes with shaking hands. Her throat was dry, her pulse hammering in her ears. "Edward, I—"

"Don't." His voice cut through the air, sharp enough to wound. He turned without another word, striding back toward the house with heavy, purposeful steps. Jake hesitated, then followed, his tail low, ears pinned back.

Bella stood there, breathless, watching him disappear through the trees. The silence that followed was suffocating. She swallowed hard, forcing herself to move, to follow, though every step felt heavier than the last.

She wanted to say something, to fix the crack forming between them, but the weight of his anger pressed down on her, making words feel useless. Still, she tried, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I'm sorry. I didn't think—"

Edward didn't stop. Didn't slow. Didn't look at her.

When they reached the house, he veered away without a glance, heading toward the small shed beside it. Bella lingered by the back steps, watching as he yanked the door open, grabbed a shovel, and turned on his heel, heading straight back into the woods.

Not a single word.

Just quiet, seething fury.

Bella stood frozen, her heart pounding against her ribs, a tight knot of guilt and anxiety twisting in her chest. Edward's anger crackled in the air between them, sharp and suffocating. She hadn't meant to make things worse, hadn't meant to be reckless. But she had been, and now she was paying for it.

After a hesitant breath, she followed him again, keeping a cautious distance.

The sound of the shovel slicing into the earth was harsh. Every thrust sent dirt flying, and Edward didn't hesitate, didn't flinch—he just kept digging, his jaw clenched, muscles straining with the force of his frustration.

Bella swallowed hard and tried again, her voice small but insistent. "Edward, I'm sorry. I just—"

He stopped mid-motion, the shovel gripped tightly in his hands. Slowly, he lifted his head, his glare pinning her in place and silencing her. His voice, when he spoke, was low and cold, each word cutting deep.

"For someone so smart, you sure are fucking stupid."

The words hit like a physical blow, knocking the breath from her lungs. She took a step back, her throat tightening. The raw intensity in his eyes, the sheer fury simmering beneath his composure, left her stunned.

"I was just—" she started, but Edward wasn't done.

"Just what?" he snapped, his voice rising as he took a step toward her. "Out for a run? Clearing your head? Trying to feel normal?" He let out a sharp, humorless laugh, shaking his head before stabbing the shovel back into the ground. "There is nothing normal about your life right now, Bella. You're a target. People are trying to kill you. And you think you can just wander off like this is some goddamn vacation?"

Bella's stomach twisted, her hands clenching into fists at her sides. Tears burned at the edges of her vision, but she refused to let them fall. She fought to steady her voice. "I needed a moment," she said, forcing the words through gritted teeth. "I've been trapped, confined—I just wanted to feel like myself for a little while."

Edward let out a sharp breath through his nose and abruptly stopped digging. The tension in his body coiled so tightly she thought he might snap the shovel in half. Then, with a force that made her flinch, he drove the blade into the dirt and turned to face her fully.

"Grow up, Bella." His voice was quieter now, but no less biting. "This isn't about what you want. It's about survival. Every decision you make affects not just you, but everyone around you. You want normalcy?" His green eyes burned into hers. "Then live long enough to see it again."

The finality of his words settled deep, cracking something inside her. She stared at him, her breath uneven, blinking rapidly to keep the tears at bay. But one slipped down her cheek anyway, betraying her.

She turned sharply before he could see more. "Fine," she bit out, voice trembling. "Message received."

She didn't wait for a response. With her head high and her throat burning, she turned on her heel and started back toward the house, her steps quick and unsteady. The weight of the moment, the weight of everything, pressed down on her chest until it hurt.

Jake hesitated for a moment, torn between them, before trotting after her. His concerned whine broke the silence, but Bella couldn't bring herself to acknowledge it.

Bella's steps were unsteady as she made her way back through the trees, her breath coming in sharp, uneven pulls. The sting of Edward's words lingered, sinking into her bones, rattling inside her chest like something she couldn't shake loose.

For someone so smart, you sure are fucking stupid.

Jake pressed against her leg as they neared the house, his warm body a comfort she wasn't sure she deserved at the moment. He let out another soft whine, glancing up at her, sensing her distress. Bella sniffed, swiping roughly at her face before pushing the door open.

The moment she stepped inside, the warmth of the house hit her like a wall. The scent of coffee and something faintly sweet lingered in the air, mixing with the sound voices from the kitchen. For a split second, she considered heading straight upstairs, locking herself in her room and pretending none of this had happened.

But Alice was already there, leaning against the kitchen doorway, arms crossed, one perfectly arched brow raised.

"You look like you got chewed up and spit out," she observed, taking in Bella's face with a knowing look.

Bella huffed out a breath, dropping onto the couch and rubbing her hands over her face. "Close enough."

Alice didn't press immediately, which Bella was grateful for. Instead, she wandered over to the coffee machine, poured a second mug, and set it on the table in front of Bella before perching on the armrest of a chair. "Want to tell me what happened, or should I go ask Edward myself?"

"Go ahead. Maybe he'll actually talk to you."

Alice clicked her tongue, watching her carefully. "That bad?"

Bella exhaled sharply, pressing her fingers into her temples. "He's pissed. And not in some quiet, disappointed way. Like, actual yelling."

Alice looked mildly impressed. "Huh. You got Edward Cullen to yell. That's a first."

"I don't know why I thought I could just go for a run like everything was normal. It was stupid. He was right."

Alice tilted her head. "Ah. Well, yeah, it was stupid. But you're human, Bella. You're allowed to need air. I mean, running off into the woods with assassins on your tail? Not ideal. But the instinct makes sense."

Bella's fingers curled around the warm ceramic of the coffee cup, feeling like a child who'd gotten rightfully reprimanded. "He didn't have to say it like that, though."

Alice let out a dry chuckle. "Oh, sweetie. You don't know Edward yet, do you?"

Bella frowned, looking up at her. "What do you mean?"

"He's spent so long having to be in control, having to plan five steps ahead, that when things go sideways, when something happens that he can't control—he reacts. Usually badly. You scared him."

Bella scoffed. "He didn't look scared."

"Because Edward doesn't do scared," Alice corrected, gesturing loosely with her cup. "He does pissed. It's the same thing, just translated differently."

Bella considered that, her fingers tightening around her cup. "I don't think he'll forgive me for this." She rolled her eyes—okay, that was dramatic. "Or, at the very least, trust me again."

Alice rolled her eyes. "He will. He just needs time to stop being an asshole about it first."

Before Bella could respond, the door swung open again. Heavy footsteps echoed across the floor as Edward entered, shoulders tense, his face unreadable. He glanced briefly toward Bella but didn't say a word, heading straight for the stairs.

Bella looked down at her coffee, her throat suddenly tight.

Alice sighed, taking another long sip before shaking her head. "God, you two are exhausting."

...

Later in the day, Bella sat at the dining room table, absently pushing a fork through the remnants of her salad. She wasn't really eating—she was just going through the motions, her mind replaying the morning's events over and over again. The sting of Edward's words had dulled with time, but the weight of them hadn't lifted.

He was right.

That was the worst part of it. He had been right.

She had risked everything for a moment of freedom, and the consequences could have been catastrophic. She should have known better. But knowing that didn't make her feel any less suffocated, any less desperate for the control that had slipped so quickly from her grasp.

The sound of the front door opening pulled her from her thoughts. She heard his footsteps before she saw him, slow and heavy, like he wasn't sure whether he was coming or going. Bella didn't lift her head, but she tracked his movement from the corner of her eye as Edward stopped in the doorway, his fingers curling around the frame. He hesitated there, as if debating whether to just keep walking. But then he sighed, a long, weary exhale, and turned back around.

A chair scraped softly against the floor as he slid into the seat across from her.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Bella forced herself to take another bite of her salad, even though it tasted like nothing. Edward drummed his fingers against the table once, then stopped. The air between them felt heavy, thick with something unspoken, something waiting to be bridged.

Finally, Edward spoke. "I'm sorry."

Bella's fork stilled against the bowl. She blinked, surprised, and glanced up.

Edward's hands were clasped loosely in front of him, his eyes locked on them like he was still deciding whether or not to say more. He exhaled through his nose, shaking his head slightly. "I shouldn't have spoken to you the way I did," he admitted, his voice quieter than usual. "I was angry. I let that take over."

Bella dropped her gaze back to the table, idly tracing the rim of her bowl with her fingertip. The weight of his anger from earlier still sat in her chest, heavy and unmoving, but she wasn't mad at him for it. Not anymore. She deserved it.

Edward shifted slightly, leaning back in his chair, his green eyes searching her face. "I get it, Bella. You want something—anything—that feels normal." His voice was softer now, but steady. "But the truth is, for a while… nothing will. And I'm sorry for that."

Something in Bella's throat tightened. She swallowed hard and nodded.

He didn't say it with pity. There was no condescension, no attempt to make her feel childish for wanting what she did. Just an acknowledgment of the loss they both knew she was still coming to terms with.

And maybe that made it worse.

Her fingers curled slightly against the table. "I could've gotten someone killed."

Edward was quiet for a moment. Then, he nodded. "Yeah." His honesty was blunt, but not cruel. Necessary.

Bella inhaled sharply, guilt gnawing at the edges of her thoughts.

Edward's voice was firm when he spoke again, but there was no anger left in it. "Everything we're doing will mean nothing if you're not careful. You're too important, Bella. You can't afford to take risks like that."

Something in the way he said it made her stomach twist. He wasn't just talking about the mission.

He meant her.

She pressed her lips together, nodding as she forced out the words. "I know. I'm sorry."

Edward watched her carefully, then gave a slight nod, like he believed her. Then, after a beat, a slow, almost reluctant smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Next time you want to go for a run…" He tilted his head slightly. "Maybe just ask?"

A flicker of embarrassment warmed her cheeks. Bella let out a quiet breath, her lips curving into the faintest smile. "Okay."

The tension in the room didn't disappear, but it eased just enough.

She pushed her salad bowl aside, finally done pretending to eat, and Edward's gaze lingered on her for another moment before he gave a small nod. Without another word, he stood and headed toward the other room, his footsteps softer this time, less rigid.

Bella exhaled, pressing her hands flat against the table as she stared after him.

She had no idea what to make of Edward. He could be so cold, so relentless, so sharp-edged when the situation called for it. But then there were moments like this—when the storm in him settled just enough for her to see the man beneath it. The one who cared enough to stop, to talk, to try.

And somehow, that was more unnerving than the anger.

I may upload the next chapter tonight ;)