Hunted and betrayed, biochemist Dr. Isabella Swan just wants her life back after her research is turned into a deadly biological weapon. She's protected by brooding rogue NSA agent, Edward Cullen, who seems to save her life just as often as he drives her insane. With time running out, she'll have to outsmart her enemies—or die trying (again).
Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight.
AN: Thank you for your reviews!
Everybody Wants to Rule the World: Tears for Fears
Edward drove in heavy silence, his focus entirely on the road in front of them, while Bella sat stiffly in the passenger seat, mind still reeling from the events of the past hour. Jake rested his head on her lap, after having jumped to the front, settled comfortably between her legs. She absentmindedly stroked his fur, her touch trembling, her mind far away.
She kept stealing glances at Edward. His earlier words—They're taking your enzyme and turning it into a way to wage silent, tailored warfare—echoed in her head, each repetition tightening the knot in her stomach. Germ-fucking-warfare. She couldn't decide if she felt more terrified, or furious, that her research had been hijacked. And worse, every time she glanced at Edward—the man who claimed to be protecting her—she was struck by his calm, unflinching demeanor. It... infuriated her. How could he be so composed when her entire world was unraveling? When she could barely breathe through the weight of it all?
She stole another look at him, her heart pounding for reasons she refused to acknowledge. The faint glow of the dashboard highlighted the strong angles of his face, the slight shadow of stubble on his jaw. His tousled bronze hair fell just over his forehead, the kind of deliberate messiness that made her think of someone who never bothered with mirrors because they didn't need to. And then there were his eyes—those piercing green eyes that seemed to see everything and yet revealed so little.
Stop it, she scolded herself, forcing herself to look away as heat creeped up her neck. This man has dragged you into God knows what kind of conspiracy, and you're noticing his jawline? Get a grip.
After a few miles, the car slowed as Edward turned into a run-down parking lot. A flickering neon sign buzzed weakly above the entrance to a thrift store. At nearly 9:00 pm, the parking lot was almost empty, save for a few beat-up sedans and a lone motorcycle parked near the curb.
Bella frowned, glancing at him. "Why are we stopping here?"
Edward shifted the car into park and pulled a wad of cash from his jacket. "Because," he started, his tone flat as he killed the engine. "You need proper clothes. You're not running for your life in pajamas."
Bella blinked at him, incredulous. "And you think thrift store jeans are going to be the thing that saves my life?"
Edward shrugged, already opening his door. "You can't outrun trained killers barefoot, Dr. Swan. And those pajamas don't exactly scream 'low profile.'"
She opened her mouth to argue but shut it again just as quickly. He wasn't wrong. She was barefoot. And wearing plaid pajama pants and an old T-shirt, she looked less like someone on the run and more like someone who'd escaped from a slumber party. Still, the absurdity of the moment made her bristle.
"Fine," she muttered, pushing the door open with more force than necessary. Jake scrambled after her, his nails clicking against the pavement as he stretched and sniffed the air. Bella crossed her arms tightly as she glared at the dimly lit building.
"Why a thrift store, though?" she asked, glancing back at Edward as he stepped around the car. "Is this part of your off-the-grid survival plan?"
Edward gave her a sidelong look, his mouth twitching in what might have been the faintest hint of amusement. "It's cheap, it's quick, and it's anonymous. If you want designer, you're in the wrong line of work."
She snorted, despite herself. "Oh, I'll settle for anything that fits and doesn't smell like mothballs, thanks."
"Good. Then you're in the right place." Edward gestured for her to follow as he started toward the store. "Come on. Let's make this quick."
Bella hesitated for a second, watching as he moved with that same deliberate ease that grated on her nerves. Then she sighed, grabbed Jake's leash, and trailed after him, muttering under her breath. "Barefoot and shopping in a thrift store. Living the dream."
The inside of the store smelled like—wait for it—mothballs and old fabric, the kind of musty air that clung to forgotten places. Rows of mismatched clothing stretched across the narrow aisles, bathed in the faint flicker of buzzing fluorescent lights. An employee sat slouched behind the counter, scrolling on their phone, barely glancing up as Bella and Edward walked in.
Bella trailed behind Edward reluctantly, her fingers brushing over the racks as she half-heartedly picked out a plain T-shirt, a pair of worn jeans, and some sneakers that looked a size too small. Edward, moving swiftly, grabbed a baseball cap and tossed it into her pile without a word.
She picked up the cap, turning it over in her hands, before arching an eyebrow at him. "Really? This is your big, foolproof disguise? A hat?"
Edward's lips curved into the faintest smirk, his voice maddeningly calm. "Got a better idea?"
Bella let out a small, incredulous snort. "Oh, yeah. This will definitely throw them off the trail," she said, plopping the cap on her head with exaggerated flair. She struck a mock-serious pose. "Who's this mysterious stranger? Certainly not Bella Swan."
Edward glanced at her, the corners of his mouth twitching. "Keep it up," he said dryly, "and you might just sell it."
The absurdity of it all briefly broke through Bella's tension, and she let out a soft laugh before heading toward the dressing room. After wrestling into the too-tight sneakers and jeans that barely fit, she emerged feeling marginally less ridiculous. Her reflection in the cracked mirror near the checkout told her the truth, though— she still looked like someone running from something. But at least she wasn't in pajamas.
Edward handed over a wad of cash at the register, keeping his movements brisk, and they stepped back into the cool night air. Jake was tied to a post just outside, tail wagging furiously as Bella crouched to untie him.
"Good boy," she murmured, running her fingers through his fur. "Almost done, okay?" She wasn't sure who she was trying to comfort—Jake or herself.
But instead of heading back toward Bella's car, Edward veered toward a beat-up sedan parked a few spots away. He pulled a slim tool kit from his jacket as he approached it, his movements deliberate.
Bella frowned, hurrying after him. "Wait. What are you doing?"
Edward didn't break stride. "Switching cars."
Bella stopped short, her stomach flipping. "Switching cars?" she echoed, her voice rising. "You're not serious."
Edward turned to face her, his expression unreadable but steady. "Dead serious."
Her mouth fell open. "You're stealing a car? Are you hearing yourself right now?"
"Borrowing," Edward corrected, crouching beside the driver's door and pulling a slim jim from his kit. "Temporarily."
"Temporarily," Bella repeated, incredulous. "Do you hear how insane that sounds? That's still illegal!"
Edward sighed, his movements not slowing as he worked on the lock. "Do you want to stay alive, or do you want to debate legality?"
"I don't know," Bella snapped, throwing up her hands. "Maybe both? How about we call the police instead? Tell them everything. Let them deal with it."
Edward let out a low, exasperated breath and straightened, turning to face her fully. "Dr. Swan." His tone softened, but his eyes stayed sharp, pinning her in place. "The police can't help you. They can't protect you from this. Do you understand that? We can't trust anyone."
Bella's heart pounded and her skin prickled with unease at his words. She crowed her arms as she tried to cling to logic. "And I'm just supposed to trust you?" she demanded, her voice cracking, trying so desperately to understand. "Why? Because you say so?"
Edward's jaw tightened, his patience thinning. Instead of answering, he turned back to the car and crouched beside the driver's side door, his fingers deftly working to open it. The lock clicked open within seconds, and he slid inside.
Bella took a shaky step forward. "Edward—"
"If I wanted you dead, you'd already be dead," Edward said, not looking up as he pulled wires from under the steering column. His voice held a darkened weight to it as he added, almost as an afterthought, "Like I was assigned to do."
The world seemed to tilt beneath her. Bella's vision narrowed, her knees threatening to buckle as a sharp chill swept through her body and her breath caught in her throat.
"What?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Edward didn't pause, his fingers moving methodically. "That's why I was sent. To eliminate you. But things changed."
Bella just balked at him. The man who had just saved her life was the same man who had been sent to end it. Her mind whirled, struggling to reconcile the pieces, but everything she thought she knew—about her work, her safety, her mentor—was crumbling around her.
"You were…sent to kill me?" she repeated, her voice trembling.
Edward finally looked up, his green eyes locking onto hers. They weren't cold, but they held a kind of heaviness that made her chest ache—a strange mix of regret, resolve, and something else she couldn't name.
"Yes." The word dropped like a stone between them. His voice was steady, unflinching, yet there was a softness there too, like he hated that he had to say it out loud.
Bella's breath hitched, and the room seemed to tilt around her. The man who had saved her—who was now her only lifeline—was the same man sent to end her life. She blinked rapidly, trying to hold back the hot sting of tears.
Her throat tightened, but she forced the words out. "Why?" Her voice cracked, raw with disbelief. "Why me? I… I mean, if Victoria's the mastermind, why not go after her?"
Edward exhaled sharply, running a hand through his tousled hair. His movements were tense, his body coiled like a spring. "It's not that simple, Dr. Swan."
"Not that simple?" she snapped, her fear bubbling into anger. Her fists clenched at her sides as her voice rose. "She's the one orchestrating this whole thing! She's the one turning my work into—into this weapon. She's the one responsible! So why am I the one with a goddamn target on my back?"
Edward stood, his height towering over her, but his tone remaining calm. "Because killing you would have been faster," he said bluntly. "Cleaner. Victoria is protected—by corporations, by politics, by people who would rather sweep this under the rug than blow it open. You, on the other hand, are the key. Without you, this project doesn't move forward."
Bella stared at him, her chest heaving as the weight of his words settled in. "I didn't even know what they were doing. I didn't know…" Her voice faltered, trembling with guilt and frustration.
"And that's exactly why they wanted you gone," Edward said quietly. "Because you're the one who built it, even if you didn't know what you were building. Without your expertise, they'd have to start from scratch. It would buy them years to contain the damage—or so they thought."
Bella shook her head, her hands trembling. "But why not take her out too? If she's the one—"
"Because she's untouchable," Edward cut in, his voice hardening. "Do you think people like her operate without layers of protection? Victoria has connections that reach places you wouldn't believe. Taking her down means going through legal red tape, bribed officials, and allies who'd burn entire cities to keep her safe. Killing you was the easier option. The pragmatic one."
His words felt like a slap, but Bella couldn't stop herself from pressing. "So what? I was just… expendable?"
Edward's jaw tightened, and for a moment, he didn't answer. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and steady, but there was something raw beneath the surface. "You weren't supposed to be a person to them, Dr. Swan. Just a loose end. A liability."
Her breath hitched again, and she felt a sharp pang in her chest. "And to you?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Edward's expression flickered—just for a moment—but he recovered quickly. "To me, you're the reason I didn't finish the job," he said simply. His words were blunt, but his eyes softened, carrying the weight of unspoken things.
Bella swallowed hard, her emotions swirling—fear, anger, disbelief, and something dangerously close to gratitude. She looked away, unable to hold his gaze any longer. "This is insane," she muttered, her voice cracking.
"It is," he said softly. "And if you want to survive, you need to stop focusing on why they chose you and start focusing on how we stop them."
Bella's breath wavered as she looked back at him, the gravity of his words sinking in. "How do we stop them?"
Edward's lips pressed into a firm line. "First, we keep you alive. The rest comes after."